I just don't think it's meant to be for you and I. Sure I could do it because everyone says I should and "that's how people meet these days" but is that really the story I want to tell our grandkids someday??
You see kiddies, this one day while I was glued to my phone, swiping through hundreds of online profiles I saw one that had this great filter. His profile gave me 5 characteristics that he chose to use to describe himself and I wasn't offended by them. So I swiped right and the rest is history.
I just have a hard time with that being our "story" and maybe I'm delusional for thinking that but hey, I'm a romantic at heart. Consider it one of my top 5 characteristics.
It's been too long since I've shared a sweet jam with you all! So obviously I'll take care of that right here, right now. My main man Mayer Hawthorne has done it again! His new album Man About Town comes out April 8th and I simply cannot wait for it. His 2nd single for the album is Love Like That and I've had it on repeat! Please enjoy
i will say that the video makes more sense when you watch Part 1 (Cosmic Love) first. But the jam is still good on it's own.
Lately it seems that if a stranger were to ask me so Sarah, what is that you do with your free time?
I would have to honestly respond with netflix and knit
And that's all I would be able to say! Now, while this isn't the worst thing I could be occupying my time with, I can't help but feel awfully boring because of it. Of course knitting is something I absolutely love doing and it's a huge part of my life, but it's definitely not the only thing! Or at least I've become more aware of my not wanting it to be the only thing.
A couple weekends ago on my day off I was, you guessed it, watching netflix and knitting, when I chose a new documentary that seemed interesting called Cooked.
If you've heard of it you'll understand when I tell you that I was hooked. The things Pollan says about food and the way society has changed it's views on cooking over the last couple decades really struck a chord with me. I am definitely one of those people who has come to rely on quick fixes in the kitchen, mostly out of a sense of intimidation and impatience. What if what I make doesn't come out well? I'm too tired and would rather eat quick and relax. I don't want to spend all that time and money if I ruin it! Cooking for 1 is too hard.
Hogwash, I know. So after finishing this series (which is only 4 episodes, so easy) I was inspired. Inspired to get into the kitchen and make the time to cook and use ingredients that were simple and not processed to the nth degree. But what to make?
Last year my mother gave me a binder of recipes that she had typed up from her family cookbook. I pulled it out and immediately knew which recipe I was going to conquer. Spaghetti Sauce.
Growing up I always had fond memories of my mom making this sauce. She would spend an entire day over a huge pot on the stove, the counter covered with ingredients, the entire house smelling like tomatoes. It was a recipe that her mother made and her mother's mother before that. Each family member adding their own personal touches to the sauce. I knew that if my mom was making the sauce there was something special going on. It was always an exciting time.
I turned to the recipe in my binder and skimmed the page. Paragraphs. No list of ingredients. No Measurements. No step-by-step procedure. This was a short story that I had to dissect for clues. I read, making a list of ingredients as I went and trying to imagine how much I would need of certain things. I wasn't in need of 10lbs of sauce so I tried to cut things in half. I'm only 1 gal after all! I went to the store and prepared for my Everest.
To get in the mood I required 3 crucial elements
Frank to sing with
Wine to not overthink
and Mom to guide (it takes a village)
We began the process of making sense of my mom's recipe, which was much easier with the lady herself on the phone, and making the sauce. There isn't much in the world that truly makes me nervous, but let me tell you, the pressure of doing the sauce justice was high. By no ones fault but my own. I wanted to do my family proud!! I wanted to eat this sauce by the end of day! My mother encouraged me every step of the way. I was making sauce! And then, before I knew it, meatballs! Everything was going to plan! I was really doing it! After about an hour my mom said ok, you're on your own now and I took the reigns. Stirring and tasting, tasting and sipping, sipping and stirring. I almost had 1 minor meltdown when I put my meatballs in the oven and quickly realized that I had forgot to put the breadcrumbs in them! This obviously required a frantic call to the mom
I FORGOT TO PUT THE BREADCRUMBS IN THE MEATBALLS!!
did they start to get brown yet?
NO!!!
then put it in and re-roll them
OK!!!!
goodbye sarah
OHMYGODBYE!!!!
The drama was real people.
I resumed my constant stirring and watchful watching of the sauce and meatballs until the time had come. Time to taste and see how the stuff came out! It needed a splash more garlic (something I can never get enough of) and it was perfect! I had made the sauce. Me! To say I was proud in an understatement. I was blown away by how easy it had been. All this time I thought I would be eaten alive by this sacred sauce but no. It was the sauce that would be eaten! ha!
My kitchen confidence grew 3 sizes that day. And now after a week of eating spaghetti I think my waist has also, but oh well! I climbed this culinary Everest and feel like I can now take on the world! Ok, so maybe souffles aren't in my near future and that's fine by me...those things are tough!
I'm so glad I chased my inspiration and tried something new and challenging. I'm determined to start spending more time in my kitchen. There will always be knitting but it's time to start making the effort to do other things with my time too. I can't become a hermit at 29! Can't I though??? NO!
It's a funny thing when your heart makes decisions for you without even bothering to consider how it might affect your life. Like deciding that a certain person is someone you could really be with, like forever, regardless of the fact that you've never dated, don't live in the same place and said feelings aren't exactly mutual.
It's an even funnier thing when your head gets in on the game and makes you start pulling pieces out of thin air to start creating this puzzle of how your story is going to be with that person. Every kind gesture, common courtesy, phone call. It's all adding up to the big picture that will someday be your lives together. Right? Isn't it??
And the funniest thing of all? The icing on your proverbial wedding cake? When this person you've created this happy little idea of a relationship with finally sees the light and figures out who The One is. And it's not you.
In the blink of an eye, your half built puzzle is in pieces. You're crushed. You're going through a breakup that never even happened and wondering how you got to this point in the first place? Small moments you had turned into "signs" reveal themselves for what they were, small moments. Those conversations that you told yourself were obviously about you, were obviously not.
You want to be mad at this person! Mad at them for wasting your time and leading you on and not picking you. Mad that they didn't see you there all along. That they weren't working on the same puzzle as you. But quickly you realize that you can't be. It's not their fault that your heart and head have been playing tricks on you. You've been duped.
So you lock up your heart and get your head screwed on straight again but after some time you end up in the same place, with another person. Feeling all the same ways about someone who feels all the same ways about someone else. And this time is worse than the first. A little voice in your head tried to warn you all along but your heart was louder. And you find yourself coming out of the fog wondering how you got here, again.
Then, wouldn't you know, it happens for the third time. Because the third times the charm of course.
So what do you do? You write about it. You write about how your heart has betrayed you and you're clearly the victim. About how confusing it is and how weak you must be to let yourself get to such a place. The ridiculousness of forming something out of nothing at all.
You're mad at your head and your heart for playing these tricks on you. Or more so, that you let them. You realize that letting them build these
puzzles without your say had been easier for a while. Easier than putting
yourself out there or smiling at a stranger or saying hello in a bar. And yes, coming to that realization is a grand and freeing thing, but it
doesn't make the feelings you had lessen any. They were real and you had them for real reasons that were not created from nothing and there's no shame in that. It's simply a shame that you hid behind them over and over again.
And then, you move on.
It's a funny thing when your heart starts building puzzles for you. It makes pieces fit where you know they don't. It convinces you that it can see the big picture out of all those tiny pieces. That it knows how the puzzle will look in the end. Be in charge of your own puzzle. Life can be silly and maybe somewhere along the way some old dusty pieces that you had moved on from will resurface. Just make sure to have a say in the matter. Choose where you want the pieces to go.
Well it's almost June and that means we're almost half way through the year. Where the heck has it gone?? I suppose that this is as good a time as any to have a little progress report of my 2105 resolution: finish all the WIPs!! Remember the Mystery KAL I mentioned back in January?? FINISHED!
To say that this is one of my favorite pieces ever is a major understatement. It's so cozy to wear and the colors are amazing. I ran into the designer of this shawl while I was at Vogue Knitting Live and he was pretty impressed...and I may or may not have fan-girled a little over him....it's whatever. I also mentioned my chunky triangle shawl at the beginning of the year and I'm proud to say that it too is FINISHED!
While the weather was a little into Spring by the time I finished this I did get 2 or 3 days of wear in it. Let me tell you, this shawl and I are never going to part come winter. It engulfs me and I couldn't be happier about it. And let's be honest, fringe is pretty much the shiz. One piece I didn't mention was a super soft Alpaca cowl that I had promised Karli I would make for her. FINISHED!
Luckily it WAS still winter so she had ample time to be snuggled by this guy. Alpaca and winter go together like a kitchner stitched seam. Get it?? Yarn humor. Moving on. Those are the only personal pieces I've finished so far. Now before you go saying "C'mon Sarah, we know you're always knitting....how can that be all???" let me show you the other things I've made this year for the store.
So yeah....at times I even wonder how my fingers don't fall off. There's also another very large shawl that I don't have a picture of yet as it's drying currently...stay tuned. Needless to say, I've been a busy bee.
And speaking of needles...
...I also learned to needlepoint. I can only hope that the my good momentum will continue! Going to Europe in a couple weeks will definitely put a little pause on some things but don't get it twisted, I'll have a project with me. Hooray for 2015 and getting shiz done! It feels pretty grand.
Being a person with a roommate who works on a cruise ship makes for a decent amount of alone time. Being a person who is constantly thinking and thinking with a roommate who works on a cruise ship makes for an obscene amount of thinking time. And all that thinking time can really take over a persons mental and emotional being.
With all that in mind, it would only make sense when I tell you that something's been bugging me. A few somethings that equal one larger something, I've come to realize.
I have trouble moving on.
A couple weeks ago I spent some time trashing the slew of old emails that was plaguing my inbox. They were out of control. As I got to the oldest of emails, I saw one from 2011 that quickly put a knot in my stomach. I knew exactly what is was, without opening it, and was immediately taken to the actions that led to that email.
In high school, there was this guy {please hold all eye rolls}. We'll call him G. I met G when I joined a local track team and was just coming out of a relationship. G happened to be friends with my ex, who was also involved with this team, but that didn't stop us from becoming friends. Needless to say, things progressed. G was a catch. He was an amazing athlete (obviously there were multi-points involved there), he made me laugh,he was a gentleman, and to top it all off, he was probably one of the sweetest guys I'd ever met. He was the type of guy who had the whole package but didn't know it. We liked each other a lot, but life is no fairy tale. He lived about 45-50 minutes away from me, a drive that parents aren't too thrilled about their teenagers making at night, and I wasn't exactly in a place to jump right into another relationship. It was my senior year and I was going to Florida for college. Bad timing. But that didn't stop us from hanging out when we could and using good ol' AIM to talk. We stayed in touch for a couple years in college and his parents even made a point to stop and visit when they were vacationing in Florida, but as it usually goes, we grew apart.
Fast forward to 2011. I was living at home and somehow found out that so was G. Things picked up right where they had left off. We went on a real date, started talking regularly, and it seemed like things could actually go somewhere this time. I was hopeful but wanted to take things slowly. I had made some decisions about my approach to dating and was very honest with G about them. He was his sweet, respectful self and I was very appreciative of that. After all, I had known this guy for years. There was a history and trust there. If there was any guy I didn't have to be cautious of, it was G. Until it wasn't. Without going into detail, while hanging out one day, G crossed a line. I left and didn't look back. I couldn't believe it. I was hurt. I was confused. I couldn't comprehend what had happened and the fact that it was G. Looking back I still don't know if maybe I was partly to blame or not. Maybe I didn't make the line as clear as I thought I had? I don't know. Later that day I received the email. It was a deep, heartfelt apology. He said all the right things and none of it seemed fake or disingenuous. He was truly regretful and asked for my forgiveness in time.
I never responded.
I knew he was sorry. I knew he meant every word. He wasn't a monster. He was a guy who made a mistake, a really big mistake, that I didn't know how to deal with. I didn't know what to do so I did nothing.
That was the last time I heard from G, yet I haven't gotten rid of his email. I don't know why. At times I see it and think, maybe I need to send a response, even if it's been almost 4 years. Other times I think I made the right choice by cutting ties and walking away. So why do I still have the email? I honestly have no idea. What is it that I'm holding on to by keeping it in my inbox?
Maybe I need to feel the pain of the situation from time to time (as messed up as that sounds)
Maybe I like to be reminded that someone felt s0mething for me...even if it was years ago
Maybe a part of me isn't willing to truly close that door
It could be all of those things at once. I don't know. What I do know is that it's time to start figuring these things out. I find myself dwelling on the past more than I'd like to admit. Even if it's not in an angry or vengeful way, I think about people who have hurt me, loved me, and everything in between. The past is the past and I need to learn to move on. I need to let it go and look forward. It's hard to admit and even harder to execute. I don't know where to begin.
In the case of G....do I let sleeping dogs lay or do I reach out for some sense of closure? {Is closure even real??? Or did some clingy lady make it up to make herself feel better about needing "just 1 more talk" about an ended relationship?} Sometimes I really do feel like I've forgiven him so maybe I need to tell him that or it doesn't count.
If it seems as though I fell off the planet last week, it's because I did. Vogue Knitting Live took over my life and now that the dust has settled I feel more inspired than ever. For you non-knitter/crocheters out there that don't know, Vogue Knitting Live is a huuuuuuge event, held all over the country, where shops, designers, and yarn enthusiasts come for a weekend of shopping and classes and crafty togetherness. Every year my store has a booth in the market and while I'm pretty exhausted by the end of the weekend, I can't help but be super inspired. I get to meet other knitters and see how they're inspired and I also get to meet new yarns and the people that make them. Just seeing people in their knitted sweaters made me want to go home, not pass go, not collect $200, and finish my sweaters!
It's easy to forget what a large community the crafting world is. There are constantly new techniques and materials being brought to light and having all those crafty vibes in one place for a weekend was a real jolt for me. I'm ready to take on the world!!! and by "the world" I mean my huge pile of unfinished projects.
2015 is off to a grand start!
my co-worker/squirrel, Kelsey, and I celebrating 5 years of the store going to Vogue
each week my day planner has a wonderful quote by an amazing woman so i thought to myself "hey self, why don't you share the wealth of wisdom these women have, and why don't you share it on wednesdays??" So here they are, in a collection i will call, womanly wisdom wednedays (www)
I've decided that my wonderful track record of starting projects and never finishing them is going to be dealt with this year. I have so many wonderful things on needles, half stitched, and in progress that I can't wait to have, and yet the minute I see the next love of my life pattern it's like I have blinders on and things get pushed aside. Well no more! I am determined to spend this year finishing the things I've started. For my sanity and my wallet.
Like my mood blanket! Needless to say, 2014 has officially come to a close and while I'm not a whole year behind, I need to catch up from September. I cringe at the word. This picture is quite dated from it's current state but still....I've got a ways to go. Did I mention that I haven't woven in 1 end?? Not 1. There are more than 365 ends to weave. I cry a little just thinking about it. ugh.
Then there's this super amazing shawl I've been working on. Again, the progress since this picture has been great, but I'm still not finished. I can't wait to have this beast of a shawl to wrap around myself and keep me toasty warm. Here's hoping I get to use it this winter....we'll see.
And of course I have not 1, but 2 sweaters in progress. The one to the right only needs sleeves and it's finished. That's all! The one to the left I started BEFORE the one on the right. Are you seeing the pattern here....
Then there is my mystery shawl KAL...the mystery of which has been revealed for months since I wasn't able to knit the clues as they were sent out. {palm to forehead}
This is merely a sampling of the things that need to be completed. I'm not proud of my irrational lack of self control when it comes to starting new projects but admitting it is the first step...right?? People change...right?? There's hope for me...RIGHT???? We'll see. I'm very determined to make this happen, even if it takes me more than a year, and hopefully putting it out into the world will be keep me more accountable to doing it. So every now and then I will try to post my most recent accomplishment here, and if a while goes by there's no harm in saying "Hey Sarah....hows are those WIPs coming along????". It takes a village.
It’s time to let the cat out of the bag on something that I’m
doing come June. The production company that I stage manage for has received a
grant to take a show to Luxembourg.
And I get to go with it.
Is this real life?? Is this my real life??? Before this came to pass I had been getting the
itch to travel and really was saddened by the idea that I probably wouldn’t have
another opportunity to do so…or at least not so conveniently as I did in
college. I have a very bare passport that needs attention but living in NYC
doesn’t exactly let a gal budget a trip overseas. So it was a pretty large pipe
dream. When I began to hear mentionings of this show for Luxembourg, I didn’t
want to assume anything or get my hopes up. It sounded too good to be true.
When it became clear that not only was the show happening but that my presence
was wanted there, I could hardly believe it.
Would I be able to
afford it?? How do I ask my full-time job for 2 weeks off?? Where the heck is
Luxembourg?? Is Luxembourghese a language??
Needless to say, there were a couple hurdles I needed to get
over before letting myself get swept up in the idea. After a few more
conversations about the logistics of the trip and crunching my own numbers, it
became clear that I would be able to afford it. When I talked to my boss about
the time away not only did she say yes but she practically demanded that I go.
In her words “If you had asked for any other reason I’d have to think about it,
but this is what you’re meant to do with your life. This is why you moved here.
You have to go.” {How I ever became
so blessed, I’ll never know} A little Google research led me to learn that
Luxembourg is a small country nestled in the middle of Belgium, Germany, and
France and that Luxembourghese is not a word. However, Luxembourgish IS a word
and it’s one of the languages spoken there, along with French and German.
I’ve been pinching myself for weeks and will continue doing
so until June. I never would have imagined that this theatre thing would work
out so well AND bring me an opportunity like this. It only shows me how moving
to this city was exactly what I was supposed to do with my life.
I have a new jam and it's the only thing I want to listen to lately. It just makes me move and groove and feel all the happy feels. I love it. What's that you say? You want to hear it and dance around your room without pants on as well?? Perfect!
That's my number. The number that my scale tells me and makes me think "uh oh". Now I know the lady-like thing is not to tell the world what your weight is...but I never claimed to be lady-like...so there. A couple weeks ago I stepped onto the pesky scale and the number it told me was not 150. It was 153. This called for a bigger mental "uh oh". I knew this wasn't a 'more muscular' 153 either. This was an 'I love to eat and can't motivate myself to work out' 153.
My first reaction of course was
"Well, now I really need to get down to business"
"Only vegetables and cardboard for me"
"A new iPod playlist will help"
"Sure I could get myself to look like ( fill in the actress' name )"
"This tbt photo of me from college will motivate me"
And that lasted for about a week.
Then some other thoughts came to mind
"Hey, this isn't high school and you're not an athlete anymore"
"Maybe this is my 27 year old body"
"My clothes still fit"
These were thoughts that had never really occurred to me before and how silly that they hadn't. Where is it written that I still need to have my "track body"?? I haven't run track in years! But on the other side of that coin what exactly does a "knitting body" look like? It doesn't sound great haha.
So I'm coming to terms with something in the middle. I don't like eating well but it's something that must be done, so while I'm not dieting, I will be more conscious of what I eat. I've also begun to go for small jogs in the morning. There's something about seeing the sun come up over the East River that's really pleasant.
I'm getting older and my body is changing and that's life. And while it's safe to say that I will not be pursuing a modelling career any time ever, I think it's important to feel good in this body I've got and treat it right. So I will jog for as long or little as I feel like; I will make sure that I'm not eating noodles for every meal of my day, much to my shagrin; and most importantly I will be realistic in my expectations of what my body should look like.
One of the blogs I follow is one that I constantly find myself wanting to copy and paste here. The Wild and Wily Ways of a Brunette "Bombshell" is written by Meg Fee, another 20-something living in NYC and the only way to describe her writing is, sensational. Over the summer she and some of her friends wrote a series of posts about wanting men, not needing men. Being a single gal for longer than I'd like to admit, these posts spoke to me. They describe exactly where I'm at when it comes to my single-dom at the moment. One particular post said everything I had been thinking lately so I thought it would be best to share it.
This is a guest post from Meg's blog, written by her friend Laura Jane Williams, who has her own blog, Superlatively Rude. I encourage you to check both of them out. The link to Meg's blog also has links to the other posts from this series. I highly recommend them.
having a witness | laura jane williams
The thing is, it’s about having a witness to my life.
I didn’t understand for such a very long time. I’d had my heart
crumpled young – too young, really. I was too naïve to understand that
he was the making of me, not the breaking—and that misunderstanding
coloured my choices for days that became weeks that became, in the end,
about five years of healing. It took many forms: promiscuity, celibacy,
travel: searching so that I got my answers but was still puzzled as to
the question.
But, you see, because of all that, I’m really fucking proud of who I
am. And the woman I’ve become? She wants to share her life with a man. A
husband.
It’s not a desperate kind of want. It isn’t sleeplessness nights and
pints of ice-cream salted with the tears of singledom. It’s not the
ticking of a biological clock, nor the irritatingly true knowledge that
rent would be cheaper split by two. It’s not about sex. I’m not
searching for my other half, the soulmate who will make me whole. I’m
not incomplete. I’m not incomplete.
The obvious, practical stuff aside – making my own money, being able
to change the fuse on a lamp, backpacking solo and how to figure out
interest rates and train timetables and reverse parking and the best way
to mow the lawn – emotionally, I’m ripe.
Beyoncé said it best (because she always does): you have to have a
life, before you can be somebody’s wife. Oh baby, have I had a life.
I’ve cried tears enough to earn the right to be empathetic and strong
with the man who will feel courage from standing by my side. I’ve
laughed so much that I’ll be able to make the future father of my
children see the funny side of our lost luggage, or the leak in the
ceiling, or even, with enough time, the tragedy that’ll blindside us both
one sunny Friday afternoon. Make no mistake, I’ve experienced so much anger and frustration, that
when he thinks he can’t take anymore – of work, of family, of the
tiredness of life – well, I understand the difference between
psychological space from words, and the closeness of my chin on his
shoulder, just for a minute. I’ve known the aching for roots, so we can
build a home together, somewhere in the world. And I’ve developed a
taste for freedom, too.
I don’t need a yes man, and won’t be a yes woman, either.
This man, my husband, the one I’m ready for, he’ll have lived as
well. He’ll be whole from experience.
I don’t need a project, somebody
to mother. He doesn’t have to be broken to be interesting (why do we
always look for them to be broken?) but there’ll be cracks in us both
that being together will help mend. He’ll know himself, and his
self-kindness will teach me to go easier on myself. His manners will
make me more accountable to those around me, and possibly his ambition
will guide my own. I might be whole, but I’m not perfect; I still have
more to learn, than has been learnt. But I’ll navigate those lessons
eventually, with or without him. I don’t need him.
It’d be hella fun to do this next part of growing, of understanding, of learning and becoming together, though.
This want, it’s a want for watching how he talks to his parents over
dinner, so that I get insight into how I engage with my own mum and dad.
I want long and lazy Sunday afternoons wrapped around each other in
bed, surprising myself with truths that feel safe to share in dappled,
early evening light. I want blazing, heated rows in the aisle of Ikea
over everything and nothing at all, friends over to our apartment for
dinner, children who look like me and sound like him – everything it
takes to unfold another human being so that I might unfold myself.
I want to love whole-heartedly and without restraint with a man who
is there when I wake up, and knows when to leave me alone and when to
take the small of my back with just the right amount of pressure. Doing
so will make me better, will teach me – as will letting myself lose
control enough to be loved. Because, of course, that’s harder than
loving when we’re all waiting to get found out that somehow, we don’t
deserve it.
We do. I do. My husband does, too. We all deserve a cheerleader, a champion, an equal.
I’ve taken it this far, and I’ve done it goddamn well. If this is
life alone, then life in a partnership – a coupling where we make each
other better, compensate for weaknesses and amplify strengths – well,
shit. That’d be some life.
A few summers ago a great pal of mine invited me to go to a concert with her. She said the artists were B.O.B., this new guy Bruno Mars, and Jason Mraz. Needless to say, but I'll say it anyway, it was one of the best times of my life! I was already pretty familiar with Jason Mraz but seeing him live was just awesome. My love for his sweet sweet jams only grew.
So of course now that he's dropped a new album, it's my duty to enjoy every minute of it...and I do. One of my particular faves is the little ditty below. It just makes me feel light and happy and sunny. And I dig it.
