Author Archives: Sars

About Sars

I am the full time rider/conductor of the Bi-Polar Express (2.oh!) Welcome to my ride. Please keep hands and feet inside the pretty pink car at all times, for your safety of course. Rose colored glasses are not only encouraged, but required.

the doodle effect

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So my first post of 2012 isn’t your typical first, but then again none of my firsts ever really have been. This isn’t a post full of resolutions, probably because I don’t make those. Really… who wants to spend a month trying to convince yourself to do shit, nine months in forgetful bliss (save the occasional asshat that reminds you of those extra 15 whatever’s), a month justifying to yourself and the world why you didn’t quite see your plans to fruition, and another month deciding how to tweak that shit so its easier to do next year. All in hopes of avoiding the inevitable failure hangover that happens just before new year. You know, that moment when you wake in a drunken haze resolving never to do that shit again… after you read all your sent texts and piece together what it is you are resolving not to do. Why put myself through all that shit? I decided years ago… ‘not gun doo-it’ (says with pursed lipped smile). Instead I opt for the ‘rules to live by’ approach. And… I keep it simple, I only have two rules. Now, there are many things that I have learned over the years that I try to remember when shit hits the fan, but really there are only two rules and no resolutions necessary.

1. Have respect for yourself.

Makes sense to me. Its a building block to becoming a good person and everyone I associate myself with wants that. I am consistently shocked by the number of people who don’t have any concept of self-respect. And please, don’t confuse self-respect with self-esteem. I know people who treat their bodies and minds with the utmost respect but lack the self-esteem to to open a jar for fear they’ll offend it. Self-respect is treating yourself correctly, like the amazing human being you are. We all fuck up. But when we do, having respect for ones self means knowing that it was a mistake, it is ultimately fixable. Even if its really bad, and I’ve done really bad. Respecting yourself doesn’t guarantee you get the outcome you thought you wanted, but it does mean you understand you are human and you fucking rule. You will continue moving forward, owning your shit… smellin like roses or not.

2. Have respect for others.

Once again, makes sense to me! I grew up with respect your elders rule in place and there was no questioning that rule. Now as an adult I’ve learned to recognize for myself whether or not an elder keeps my respect, or anyone for that matter, but everyone deserves the benefit of the doubt until you find out otherwise. The woman living in subsidized housing that has a nice car, while you drive a pile o’ shite, may not be milking the system like you think. She could be a single mother who is raising a son with a very rare disease. So that nice car was her whole family’s way of saying ‘we want to make sure you have a reliable way to get you kid where he needs to go’. The opposite is true as well, to be sure, but who are we to judge? Who are we to treat someone with disrespect when we know nothing of them? This seems like a pretty simple concept, respect others, but there are so many that have no clue. Respecting others is part of being a grown up and something to teach those whose small minds we have been charged with shaping.

As luck would have it, respect for others goes hand-in-hand with respect for yourself. In learning to treat yourself with respect, you will be more apt to treat others in kind. (funny -slaps forehead- makes perfect fucking sense to me) Sadly these are learned by observation then practice. You can’t find them in a book and you can’t purchase them with any amount of money and you can’t give them or have them given to you as a gift. So rather than resolving to spend my 2012 on a quest to better my body, or drink more water, or be a better friend, or say something nice every day, or write more, or whatever… I will continue moving forward learning each day to treat myself with respect and have respect for others. In reality don’t all the things we resolve fall into one of those categories anyway?

On a side note, if you asked my nephew what my rules are, he would tell you with out hesitation: respect myself and respect others. (he would probably roll his eyes) But he would also say “and don’t bleed on her watch, she’ll have a bad day”. I have no bloody watches.

I peed a little

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Holy gus….

I honestly don’t care what you do this weekend (okay maybe a little, but not the point) or if you need a laugh this holiday season.. if you need something to save you from all the family shit… all you have to do is spend a whopping $5 to buy the new Louis C.K.

motherfucking christ on a motherfuckin cheezit….

In case you were at all wondering (if you have to ask I question you in many ways.)… not for children or even most adults… but if you read this you are probably safe… Holy fuck dood.

Stomach hurts laughing hard….. piddled

One more thing, he took the power back, he’s doin it all on his own that’s why its only five bucks… so buy it: https://buy.louisck.net/

bluffing…

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You are overwhelmed, tired, feeling like the walls are closing in and all you want to do is go… go for a drive and have time to think… Listen to music, angry, soft, loud, emotive, piercing, any music to calm the mindPod… but no. Your keys are in your hand. Your tank is full (well, sorta, you never can tell since you tend to run out when the gauge reads in the neighborhood of half tank), you have a little cash for snacks and a plan, or rather non-plan, but that is the plan, but no. None of it matters, you are fucking stuck. You can’t just go. Can’t go to your favorite breakfast place to read a book and people watch. Can’t just drive and sing loudly to the same song over and over because it is what you feel right that moment. Can’t spend the day hiking along the bluffs or go kidnap your best friend to get lunch somewhere he’s never been.You no longer have that option.

Sometimes its just like that…. you sit. With your head in your hands. You sit with your head in your hands because no matter how many reasons you can find to blame someone else, the choice that brought you to this place was yours. You put yourself on this stoop with your keys in your hand next to a vehicle that is completely unsafe to take more than 15 miles without AAA and telling everyone you care for where you’re going and which route you’re taking. You made a poor choice and it was not the first time, its just visible to more people than the rest have been.

Sometimes its just like that… the ripples in your pond- the decisions you’ve made, those choices you have found ways to put band-aids on and share blame with others; or pawn off on them completely, or better yet, decisions you’ve chosen to ignore all together…. those are making the ripples in your pond. They have started to clash into each other and make bigger ripples and even waves at this point. So much so that you can’t ignore the ripples and you can see those fucking waves from your stoop. The truth is reflecting back in a way that is certainly not as pretty as it was from the glassy pond…. but reality, you threw those fucking rocks, help or no, they left your hands before hitting the water. River rocks, giant stones, small pebbles, chunks of concrete, tar from the road… they all came from you and you have to feel the effect. You are responsible for the fact that all water sports have been suspended until further notice.

It’s time to to calm the water and bring it back to a glassy pond. Time to find the bluff that lets you look down at your reflection and forgive yourself because try as hard as you like… you can’t jump in and pull out what you threw in. You can’t undo the past. You can only forgive yourself and realize it will take work to calm the waters, to trust yourself to hold a skipping stone. It will take time to find the calm and face your reflection once more.

Sometimes… its like that… you must climb to the top of the bluff to find forgiveness. It is difficult and steep.  It’s taken a long time to even get here… you’ve stopped a few times (even threw another pebble or two). But you are here now. The top of the bluff is within your reach. When you get there and see your reflection clear from the peace forgiveness brings, bring back the water sports… jump off the bluff on a sunny day, into the glassy water and make a new kind of ripple.

whatmas?

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So in browsing my comments, and all the other comments and shit I’m struggling to keep up with now that I follow so freakin many blogs, I saw a comment on “Monday Listicles”. I, being the mature woman that I am, did laugh and say ‘ppffftt….listicles….ha!” Wait, that must’ve someone else. ; ) No, I checked out what peeps were commenting on and there ya have it. Every Monday, new list. Sounds fun to me since copying conversations is difficult for me and the ones that can be safely shown to ye of puritanical mind you bitches are pretty much twitfodder. Anyhow, I decided what the hell… So I hop on over to where it all starts and think to myself… aw shit…. Well I picked a fanfuckingtastic week to start…

This week: the 10 things I hope for this christmas. Wow… This may prove a lofty task, seein’ as I don’t give much credence to the whole magic babies gettin yanked out a hoo-ha that’s never even had a bob or a well.. whatever, to give ‘er a lil stretch theory. Then this magic baby came out all perfect (of course) and and glowing and didn’t get tetnus or mad cow or whooping cough or even the croup from sleeping in a nasty food trough with half eaten hay for padding…. Oh, in musty shit filled, stank ass barn. And bythe-by who gives babies gold and perfume… on a camel? Those fuckers spit. Anyhow… Then there’s the super-stealth-ultrasonic-be-everywhere-at-once red rocket-sled that can haul a metric shit tons of toy and a giant fat dude packin enough alice-in-wonderland potion to get him in and out of every house in the world (chimney or not) with a kid in it……… I’m thinkin this could be tough for anyone, (that’s gotta burn some fierce calories!) but really? morbidly obese super hairy dude? with little people as his only help? (I know you’re thinkin it, its okay but be nice).

I think my aversion started mostly because every year my mom and sister ask me for a list. My sister usually asks me sometime in October because hers is ready and nothing on it is priced for adult sibling gift exchanging. Its usually made up of shit you should buy for yourself when you are an adult in your thirties, with a family and two stable incomes… but you know… gotta have priorities people. Oh! Its to make sure I know how much my doodle’s shit (I say shit because how many 3Ds’ does 1 child need?!?) is gonna cost… so you know I can get him a gift certificate to the proper giant chain store. And every year they get the same list from me: please, I don’t need anything. If you must have a list, I’d like to get together for Sunday for brunch. (I love a good eggs bene) It doesn’t go over well, but I don’t really care anymore. So to come up with my own list. I had to do some tweeking… But without further adieu here is my version of a 10 things I hope for this christmas list:

10 this I hope for in the Winter Solstice Season:

1. That I will actually get to spend time in the mountains this season and enjoy some of the amazing things you can only see when surrounded by a sea of white snow and the smell of fire places.
2. That the friendships I have made via the interwebs will continue and we will encourage each other to become better writers.
3. That I will improve myself as a human in a way that is marked and noticeable to others and not just myself…. Not because I seek attention or praise, but because I made a difference somehow or to someone.
4. That my brother will find someone… to share his music with.
5. That my my little pink car will slow the fuck down and allow me to rest (and that my blingy rose colored glasses will be found).
6. That I will learn to forgive myself for the bad decisions of the past, so the rippling can calm and I can find a still place to start changing the course from here.
7. That those I love and care for will know that unconditionally is the only way I know how… and that even if its been a while, still holds true.
8. That I treat others as I want to be treated and remember that it is my job to be the human I want others to be.
9. That my best friend will find a place of peace, if only for a moment… so he can know what that’s like and build from that place.
10. and of course…… to improve my shoe collection…

I probably won’t post this over on the “Listicles” but maybe next time the list will be a little more non-snarkster mom friendly.

[youtube]http://youtu.be/XW-6jKuHE1M[/youtube]

stuff, things, thanks and an apple

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image

I have so much pent up shit in my head that I hardly know where to start. Well, I will start with an apology for the length that will surely be a bit longer than usual or what I’d prefer. But that’s what hapens when well… shit happens. So I will try to temper the bad with the good and keep the ranting to a minimum…

First it is Friday and I must thank Paula… Fuck You Friday‘s are the shit! Her decision to give that outlet was a brilliant gus send. I will give you a gift when I meet you someday and you can use it to intimidate the purple house from afar… then blame me! ha! I willingly accept and will write nasty letters for days. (you’ve seen my work, unleash my fury, and I owe you a pic that will make you feel better, promise)

Admittedly this week has been shit, rolled in grass and left in the sun. Okay maybe not quite that bad but you get the idea. I got kicked it the kidneys by the tax man, kneed in the face by my management, and treated with disrespect by so many that its really not funny. So much so that my anxiety kicked into high gear and I picked a fight with the man. Now we have different styles of communicating, but we are good for each other. Well, most times. Sometimes my anxiety gets the best of me and I… well I had a meltdown and pretty much just made what could have been a simple conversation about consideration, an awful arguement that never needed to be. Now granted I (in my humble and er um correct opinion) was valid, but my method was shit and lacked consideration for him (wait.. me a hypocrite, nooooo…. must have been that other sars, I would never). And as I sat thinking about it and having my best girl call me out on my bull shit (mostly pertaining to arguements with the man, not work, but really it somewhat equates to the same shit) I realize how very lucky I am.

I realized what the geeks sorta hid from the rest of us – And why they sorta hid, they were fuckin busy with less than 256k sometimes, trying to carry on multiple conversations… All these years by having friendships online. Oh, if you don’t remember 256 because you are too young to be reading this and most of the blogs linked to it… think of 256 being an old vw bug against the broadband you are used to and that would be a M5. Yeah, that shit couldn’t get out of its own way. We may have been (or are) friends with them, but the better part of us, my rough guess is 95%, don’t know about all the “chans” and “reddits” and what “digg” is or what “stumble” -was its shit now- for. And that real friendships, that have lasted years or even decades, have been formed over cyberspace and still remain.

I now understand all this. I have made my twit-a-shiv-aho nation (we will shiv you if you even fuck with us) and friends from the interwebs via this blogisphere from all over the world. Some of us will never meet but there is a bond. We care when there is family loss or bullshit or medical crap or job loss or everyday saddness just because life is some shit right then. I am certain some of us will stop writing when the need is no longer there, some of us may become actual published writers, but some of this new little circle of mine will grow as friends, real friends. I am thankful. Its these friends that have kept me laughing through some dark days. However… it wasn’t all this squishy, gushy shit that made me realize that regardless of what I was feeling this week, theanxiety, the ache, disrespect from work, lack of consideration from so many, and we haven’t even started on the fam sitch…I have so very much to be thankful for and bottom line, it’s up to me (as usual) to get the Fuck over it! People can be shitty, so, that is on them.

What actually reminded me of this was the owner of my company (crazy fuckin kiwi) passing around ‘The Giving Tree’ in order to convince oeople not to have babies. (huh??) Well first, I fucking love this book and it would never convince me not to have children, no book could do that… my childhood and wr-ex husband did that just fine thankuverymuch. I love it enough that I gave this book to my nephew when he was merely weeks old and read it too him all the time. He still calls it his special book. I’ve also given it to my brother when he was in a dark time. This book is a reminder of so much more than how much you get when you give. And today it served to remind me I need to remember why I am here and there is more to life than the self centered glass we look through everyday. We need to listen, and give to others in the way we want to be heard and given to. Funny, this book reminded me of words my love spoke to me that in the moment I took as hurtful and even mean. They are not, they are how we should treat one another. A little book a subsiquent chat with my best girl reminded me of just that…

So here it is, better late than never. No bull shit, no poems, no fucking around… I am thankful, really fucking thankful.

a really bad poem that means well

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laughs and ((hugs)) hell maybe even some drugs
that’s what my bitches could be made of…

margaritas, potato juice, whiskey and gin
oh that’s what my bitches are pickled in…
(well there’s the one who likes latte’s but her liver’s already in)

babies and men (when they show or behave), shoes and the pen
that’s much of my bitches days are made of

bedazzled shivs, cakes with shanks and matching sequined shorts & tanks
that’s what my bitches make a fight of

funny and strong, wounded and healed, fierce, scarred and talented
that’s for sure what my bitches are…

well, there was this one from nantucket… but, we shived her and threw her in the river.

thanks for makin my day bitches… jazz hands!

 

[youtube]http://youtu.be/rp6cOgmY234[/youtube]

my head will no longer fit through the door

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Well to quote my grandma… Shit on a fuckin shingle! (I’m partial to Christ on a fuckin Cracker but that was George Carlin and well.. I don’t know him so there ya have it.) I have been awarded, and ya know it makes a craptastic week feel pretty damn good.

My loverly Becca (with her very own shiny new domain in case you didn’t know…mmm yes, just follow my link and update your shit accordingly) has given me a

“Versatile Blogger” award.

I am not so sure I am all that versatile since usually I write about myself or things I see but, try and take it back and I will cut you. All that being vomited I will start with a THANK YOU!!!! then on to our festivities (I hope you are all appropriately dressed, or at least wearing decent shoes.) While I stumbled upon Becca through one of her comments elsewhere, it wasn’t her snarky awesome biting humor that caught my attention,what inspired me was her ability to be powerful by finding just the right way to start some of her thoughts… and of course her ability to alliterate. Sometimes, a memory can hit you like a shit brick house but you need it at that moment. It only takes one person’s words to make you realize your pent up shit needs to be unleashed, and just maybe it will sound as beautiful.I was floored that she didn’t have a world of followers and was super stoked to be one of the first and even more proud to be a part of the inner circle… dude, she is totally my cuz or sister, maybe I am the milkman’s kid after all! I really think I may have some misplaced korean in my history because its bizarre.

So on to me: What are 5 things you don’t know… sheeeiiit, other than my actual real name there isn’t much.

1. I don’t own an ‘i’ anything. I don’t even use iTunes.
2. My best friend is a dude. I have tried to have chic best friends but they start callin me bestie and that smushie shit, so I stick to dudes. And no he is not my fuck buddy, we do not date, nor will we.
3. The sound of people chewing grosses me out in a way I cannot properly describe.
4. I live where most people vacation but would be perfectly happy in a log cabin by a lake somewhere.
5. For every blog I post there is at least one I didn’t.

Now that we are done with that shit, let the games begin! I get to give head awards!! YAY! I decided I’m gonna try and go outside the comfort zone as I speak of things not for the weak of heart, why the fuck would I read their shit… So in no particular order, here you have it:

Spence at Siren Voices… While I don’t comment often, I do read as often as I can. I’m not even sure he knows of me, but I don’t care… He is an amazing writer. His is not so much a humor (or humour as her would write) blog but by way of versatility, where ya gonna find it if not on an ambulance??? Try. He maintains the dignity of his patients and even though on occasion I cry, I laugh too. He is always worth the read.

Brooke Farmer. She is funny, amazing spirited and has overcome a fuckload more than my wimpy ass could ever think up… So she is rad and you should check her out.

Haylah Mae is fucking awesome. She tells it straight and could give The Wagster a run for his euros. She rules, read her or she’ll spike you with a leather cuff.

The Mad-Man Oh Steve… I think you should read his shit with a bucket of bleach water handy, your eyes will need it. Then, just form your own mad thoughts.. and send him some canned pears from me.

Da Cheese Blarg. I think I am in awe of this woman, and her ability to turn everything into a picture. She is the only person other than ms Portlandia that can give my love of bacon a fun for its money. Oh and she draws Narwahls and Llamas! What’s not to love!!!

There are a couple others who I’d have gladly given this to, but they’ve gotten it already so I am sharing the love with other peeps.  And now its your turn… Be excellent to each other and for fucksake wear nice shoes when presenting!

Here’s the rules…
1. Compose a short bit about the person who awarded you the award.
2. Write a list for your readers detailing things about yourself they don’t know.
3. Pass the love forward to five bloggers that you feel deserve to receive it too.

Again, thanks Bec.

I’m Pretty Sure That it’s Fucksox Friday

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Did you know there is an actual thing called a whirly-gig? yeah… its that wooden thing they stake into your lawn that has hands or feet or something that “whirl” around…. I myself thought I was a whirly-gig but it turns out I was in fact wrong.

So for this Fucksox Friday I take my cue from her Snarkness, and instead of waxing on and on about whatever.

sooo I’m pretty sure that,

…Ben Franklin was right and beer is proof that god wants us to be happy.

…no one should ever be able to wear Hypercolor again. PERIOD.

…if what doesn’t kill is supposed to make us stronger – my neighbor deserves a bigger set of biceps and a rockhard fucking ass.

…you shouldn’t walk around lookin like a whore on holloween, with your child in tow… save that shit for the adult party.

…my boss has no idea whatsoever. none. I am so overqualified that in about a week I could make her obsolete.

…love is love no matter who is giving and who is receiving. It’s sad that a piece of paper has become so fucking important.

…living in a small ass college town for the last 18 years has caused me to look at women differently and pretty much think that all of them are whoores between the age of 18 and 22.

…living in a small ass college town for the last 18 years has caused me to look at men differently and pretty much think that all of them are whoores between the age of 28 and 42.

…I hate the color yellow.

…if I hadn’t been so frightened as a child by so many bad things I would be a complete stoner.

…Bret Michaels should not be allowed anywhere near a microphone. Ever.

…I married satan’s spawn when I was 20. He left scars that still open at the most inopportune times 12 years after we got divorced.

…if I didn’t have those scars, I’d probably be an ugly person.

…fuckin Chuck Norris is a gangster and could take out Steven Segal any day.

…that I have been very recently influenced, loved and cared for by some amazing women (and men) I have never met and it has reminded me that we as humans are really basically good and become bad through our own choices.

…my cell phone has retarded me, as have calculators and computers… really. Do you know all your family member’s phone number’s by heart or have them written on paper??? that’s what I thought.

…I would love a shot of Jameson right now but also sure it would be a bad idea.

…that I have not had a mindPod shuffle the entire time I’ve been writing this list.

…Clowns are fucking SCARY!!!!!!!!!!

…there are some things you can never unsee: your parents fucking, your grandparents fucking, scatporn, the cross fucking scene from the Exorcist, some of the crap on awkward family photos and Human Centepede.

…the Abe Lincoln is the best type of beard. (I’ll shank you over this)

…Sushi, should be Japanese, Thai food should be um Thai and Chinese food should not contain msg.

…I love TOOL and think Maynard is a genius but do not want to have his babies, lick his shoes or any of the other ridiculous things I have seen people offer just to meet him. He’s a human, talented, but human. whatever.

…my mindPod smells like teen spirit.

…I love all kinds of music but cringe when Lynerd Sknyrd comes on.

…you should not get married because you are knocked up. Even if her/your dad threatens you. It rarely works.

…there is love at first sight, sometimes the least likely couples actually have it figured out.

…you man can never be too good looking, your drink can never be too strong and you can NEVER have too many shoes.

…

singing man

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This week, well the last two, have been about as much as I can take on this ride. But its fortunate I have a vast collection of music to shuffle through my mindPod (and actual shite too if you must know… between the collections is about two solid months of non stop tuneage) and I happened to land on Austin Lucas. Ahhh Austin Lucas. Not a well known musician, though he should be. And today, he is my hero. His style may not be for all but he was exactly what I needed. Most specifically his song Singing Man.

The past few weeks have been that of feeling weak and inadequate. Regardless  of what anyone said or did I wasn’t going to get it. That is the nature of the little car that whirrs me round. But when its quiet and I can’t hear anything I tap my dbase of songs and here it is… Austin Lucas. So today was my dad’s birthday (dude! 69 – he’s gonna throw that around all year because he’s dirty… GROSS!). I hate family events for more reasons than I can tell you today but the short version is because my sister somehow  – with her super powers (do you get those during child birth? if so I may have to rethink shit) – flip-floped me in the line of birth order and is now the oldest instead of youngest and has a complete vulcan mind-meld hold over my mother. I think its because she is married and has a child and I myself have neither, in fact I do not want child and I am divorced, thus I am broken. so there’s that… So I couldn’t go. I just couldn’t. I know I disappointed my bro, and I hate that. But to be fair I was unwell on Sunday but, it was made all the worse by my anxiety. I felt well…. weak and small and like I mattered little. My solution was to say hey, I’ll come over on his actual birthday! So the last three days I kept hearing the words…

‘I had followed her on
Until breathlessly she said
Here’s my hand, won’t you take it, won’t you?
Oh
You are not weak
And not small
In my eyes you are mighty’

I realized its only in my own eyes that I am weak and small. I may not be the singin man but I cause my own shit storm sometimes. I need to realize she is the youngest, I am the oldest, I am not weak and not small but rather a person who is mighty…

 

this is just him which to me is more pure, because if you are struggling within – you don’t hear harmony. I sing and I don’t hear harmony. Though the link above has the harmony’s with the female voice (who I’m ashamed to say I don’t know).

[youtube]http://youtu.be/F41Ddw1Czuw[/youtube]

 

Thanks Austin, needed you this week and thanks for the tweet…

 

WoW: Exercise 22 – Select a piece of music that reflects the mood of writing you’d like to aim for. Press play. Start free writing. Write the first words that come into your head. When the music’s over, so is the writing. I’d recommend finding out how long the song is before you start the exercise. You may feel cheated in your writing time if you pick a song by The Ramones. Of course, if you feel like writing a short, punky piece by all means, go for it!

not so much the shoes

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This wasn’t supposed to be my post.

I have some funny shit about my shoes – and how I don’t have a fetish, just maybe a little issue with self control on occasion. And I’m how even though the assassin thinks wives are better than cars I think that women are actually like cars.

But no.

That is not happening right this moment. Right this moment I have the shakes and I am in tears and why???? Because someone is escaping. It isn’t me. But its someone. She’s getting out. She is leaving the dark place that couldn’t manage its way out of a wet paper sack and going to a real job. Good girl. Good luck.I am still in tears and I am smiling at the same time trying ta answer the fucking phone and be perky…. yay.

I suppose I am not biding my time well enough and not accepting their bullshit well enough and not keeping my hands to myself and I keep running with scissors. Maybe I should look a little harder and remember the things I told myself like ‘If you don’t like something…. change it.’ And maybe, I shouldn’t write my resume in sharpie.

I suppose I need to breathe and just be today….

[youtube]http://youtu.be/UhjG47gtMCo[/youtube]

(sorry its long, but I love it.)