OK, so I was tagged by Betme to do a list of fives.  First off, for reasons I am unsure of, I have never been comfortable with the number five, so with that said, I give you my list.

Five Things in my Bag:

1. Sunglasses:  Very important to the happiness of my driving.  I always need to have my sunglasses, no sunglasses equals a very unhappy Sarah.
2. Wallet:  This post might as well have been five things in my wallet.  I could probably live without my purse, but that’s only because I keep everything in my wallet.  And yes, those are skulls on my wallet.  They are Jack Skellington heads from The Nightmare Before Christmas which is one of my favorite movies.
3. Gum:  If my dentist were to see this post, he would be very disappointed in me.  I’m not actually supposed to chew gum due to issues I have with my jaw.  But, who can resist Orbit melon mint or whatever the hell it’s called.
4. Notebook with a pen attached:  As Allison said in her five things post, you never know when a blog idea will strike. 
5. Electronics:  It’s sick, but the phone I have has an MP3 player and a camera in it.  And yet, because the phone is new I still carry my iPod and digital camera with me.  You can’t see the camera in this picture, because it’s what I’m taking the picture with obviously.  Oy people.

Five Things in my Room:  (Ok, one of these things isn’t from the bedroom, but I’m not going to show you the porn collection, so instead I took a picture of mine and my husbands favorite piece of art that we bought together.  It may end up in the bedroom at some point in the near futute anyway.) 

1. My side of the bed:  On it are my alarm clock, a bottle of lotion because dry skin is my enemy, chapstick, foot healing balm and the jewlery that I wear the most often.
2. Always Kiss me Goodnight:  I was guilty of going to bed angry a lot.  It was when I was working at the library and I guess I took things out on my husband.  It got ugly for awhile, and last year after being unemployed for a few months I found this sign at a craft fair.  It’s worked.  No matter how angry one of us is, we always kiss goodnight now.
3. The bed:  First off, yes at 29 going on 30 years old I still sleep with a stuffed bear.  I can’t help it, it makes me feel better and my husband doesn’t complain about it.  Second, those are pet stairs at the foot of the bed.  The damned cat refuses to use them, but I’m afraid that she will give up all hope of getting up onto the bed if I move them.
4. My Coach purse:  This is the most expensive and extravagant purse that I own.  I really never get to use it because it’s basically just a clutch and doesn’t have anywhere near enough space in it, but it’s mine and I love it. 
5. The artwork:  It’s a digital image of The Devil and an Angel playing chess with humans.  Let’s face it, isn’t that how it feels sometimes.  On either side are a couple of my favorite dragons.  These aren’t in the bedroom right now, but my husband and I have plans to buy some more artwork and I get the feeling that this one, dark as it may seem, may end up in the bedroom at some point. 

Five Things I am Into:  (In no particular order)

1. Reading:  I’m very into the reading.  I have about 6 bookcases of various sizes to prove my love of reading.  They are all full of my books.  I will attempt to read anything.  I love the classics.  It took me forever to get through Vanity Fair because of  the style it was written in, but I did it and I felt really good about it.  I’ve discovered since I’m not working that I’m picking up a lot of non-fiction books like Don’t Know Much about Mythology and books like that.  Stuff I feel like I should know, but maybe I don’t.  My husband may occupy one half of a shelf on one of the bookcases.  To be fair though, he occupies a good part of the closets with his boxes full of comic books.
2. Body art:  Even if I’m not covered in tattoos and piercings I love to pick up magazines about such.  I have been known to walk into a tattoo studio to just look around and see what other people are getting.  The people who work in these shops seem OK with me doing that.  I don’t do it every week or anything but I’ve done it more than once.  I also have a list of tattoos that I want to get.  I’ve taken the idea to several shops to have them drawn up (I can’t draw and I don’t know any of my friends who can) and have the prices quoted so that I know what I’m working up to.  A lot of people don’t like tattoos and piercings.  They say that if you weren’t meant to be covered in ink and piercings than God would have given them to you.  I say if he didn’t want me to have them, he wouldn’t have given me a blank canvas to work with.
3. Music:  I love music.  There is a song for every mood, thought, and feeling.  Music can be inspiring.  Music can bring you out of a funk, and occassionally it can work you into one.  I can’t live without music.  I listen to it everyday.  I know a lot of people who listen to talk radio and audio books, but words just distract me.  Music though, that’s like a heartbeat.  Actually, a heartbeat is music.   
4. Dragons:  If dragons were real, I would want to own one.  But since they aren’t my husband humors me by buying me just about anything that is a dragon.  I’m picky about my dragons though.  I don’t like Asian dragons because they look too much like snakes (I’m afraid of snakes).  If it doesn’t have wings, then it’s not really a dragon.  My husband isn’t the only one who indulges me in this dragon fixation, most of my friends and my parents do too, but my husband tends to take on the brunt of this collection.
5. Photography:  My dad is a professional photographer and I think he always hoped that I would follow.  I’m reluctant photographer.  I tend to look at something after it happens and wish that I had taken a picture of it.  I try to go for the arty pictures, and they always come out blurry.  I prefer black and white to color.  Black and white makes you think about what you’re looking at.  It’s just nicer to look at sometimes, at least in my opinion.

Five Things I Have Always Wanted to do:  (In no particular order)

1. Bungee jump:  I don’t know why.  I don’t even know if people do this anymore.  Falling has never scared me though.  Flying, now that scares the crap out of me, but if I had to jump from a plane, I would probably feel a rush that could not even be described.
2. Travel:  I want to go to Europe.  Problem is I’m afraid to fly and I have claustrophobia.  These are two things that don’t bode well with an 8 hour flight across an ocean.  There is also the lack of money thing.  I’m good with flying within the country, but across an ocean and I can feel the panic attack right now. 
3. Write:  I know, I’m writing now.  I want to be able to write a book or a story or an article.  I guess I’m saying that I want to be published.  Maybe this technically counts.  Maybe I want people to have to pay for what I’m writing.  I want to be paid for writing something.  Wow, I’m babbling.
4. Drive a Dodge Viper:  I know it’s silly, but the first time I saw this car I fell in love.  Or maybe it’s lust, anyway something guides me to this car.  It is my dream car.  I want it, I want to be inside of it.
5. Work a clutch:  I have tried over and over to drive a manual transmission car.  It never ends well for the car.  I’m convinced that if I can learn to work the damned clutch in a car than I can finally learn to ride a motorcycle and perhaps I won’t die in a fiery wreck. 

I promise I will get around to that meme that Betme has tagged me for, but real quickly I have to tell everyone how victory is mine.

The last time I went to Marshall’s I made the mistake of looking at something but not picking it up.  Today I was much, much smarter.  Now, while it wasn’t a purse (that was taken care of the week that I wrote the first Marshall’s post) it was clothing.  And I know for a fact that I pissed someone off today.

I need a dress for the weddings I have to attend this summer, and that was my purpose for going to Marshall’s today (no water weight and feeling pretty good about myself).  I finally found a dress that I liked, and picked it up in the size I thought I would need.  I went and tried the dress on, and Hallelujah, it fit.  So, I continued to walk around the store with it. 

I noticed that there was a woman looking at the same rack of dresses that I had been looking at, and I heard her sigh when I picked up the dress.  I did notice that she had picked up the dress, but she put it back.  To be honest her picking it up and putting it back is what drew my attention to it.  She followed me into the fitting room (not my little booth thankfully) and was kind of waiting by the discarded clothes when I came out.  Since the dress fit, I held onto it, besides the fact that I worked in retail and tend to put things back in the correct spot even if I don’t want the item. 

This woman followed me around the store. 

I eventually went up to pay for my items and the same woman wasn’t too far behind me in line.  She was with her boyfriend/husband and I could hear her saying shit about me.  When I walked out the store, I finally heard very clearly “I saw that dress first.  It would have looked better on me.”  At this point I lost my last reserve of cool and told her she should have held onto it instead of putting it back. 

I know, very grown up. 

Regardless, I went to Marshall’s and I picked up my object of desire and walked out of the store with it.  See, I learn from my mistakes.

      Have I ever mentioned my slight book obsession?

I drive a Dodge Neon.  It is the smallest car that I have ever driven.  I am used to driving boats.  I learned to drive in a Ford F150 and a Pontiac Grand Am (91).  The Grand Am wasn’t huge, but not small either.  That F150 was enormous.  I then drove a 76 Mustang, a 70 Monte Carlo, an 85 Monte Carlo, a Thunderbird (90 something I think), and a Chevy Beretta. 

I’m comfortable in any car you put me in.  Within a half hour I will know what my turning radius is and where I can get the car to fit.  I’ll know how it handles when turning corners so that I know how much brake pressure I have to apply.  I know what kind of pick up it has so that I can figure out how much of a daredevil I can be while driving.  I get to know the car immediately.  Cars and I bond faster than I imagine me and my future children will bond.

With that said, I give you this letter.

Dear Idiot Who Cut Me Off,

First off, thank you for letting me test my braking system.  It’s nice to know that my brakes are in fine working order.  I do so enjoy to look behind me hoping that the person behind me has equally operational brakes and noticing about 10 feet of tire marks that I just left. 

As to your driving methods, I would prefer in the future if you chose to GET OFF YOUR DAMNED PHONE, and drive.  This would ensure that next time you want to make a right hand turn, you will pay attention to see if any cars are coming your way before turning into them.  It would also be nice if you could possibly choose a lane when you make that turn.  Just because you drive a Hummer doesn’t mean that you get to drive in two lanes.  You, like everyone else on the damned planet, have to choose a lane that has been marked by the nice road people. 

And, while I’m at it, the median is not your personal lane.  It is used to divide us and the oncoming traffic.  I’m sure the people in the oncoming lane would feel much better if you would choose a lane also.  I think they would be happiest if you would choose a lane that is going in the direction that you appear to be going in. 

Having said that, I have some words of advice.  From me, to you.  If you cannot see over the steering wheel, do not drive it.  If you cannot maneuver your vehicle without taking up two lanes (tractor trailers are exempt), do not drive it.  If you are too busy talking on your cell phone and you don’t have one of those earpiece thingy, do not drive.  If you do not understand how a clutch works, do not drive a vehicle with one (this works well for me, I do not know how to drive stick, therefore I don’t).  If you are incapable of at least observing the speed limit, you may not want to be around me, I will only make you nervous.  If other cars on the road make you nervous, don’t drive during heavy traffic time/days. 

Thank you so much for your time.  I do appreciate the opportunity to tell you how I feel.  I believe that we can both go on with our lives now.  I’m hoping that we can both learn something from this scenario, and be better people for it.

Sincerely,

The Red Speck That You Almost Ran Over

My husband once commented to me once that I need anger management classes.  The more I have to deal with stupid people, the more I think that he just might be right.  I can take constructive criticism.  Do I like it?  No, but I will take it and try to follow it.  When someone suggests something to me, I will listen to them and then mull over it.  I’m open to change, except when it comes to me or my attitude. 

I try to be an open and positive person.  People in this world tend to make that a little difficult.  They look at who I am on the outside and don’t bother to ask or find out who I am on in the inside.  People who assume I’m some kind of devil worshipper or something because of the music I listen to, just make me mad as hell (who would have thought that that stigma still exists).

I didn’t go to college because my parents got divorced when I graduated high school, this didn’t mean that I didn’t want to go.  My mom needed my help, she needed me to have a job so that I could pay for my own crap.  She was working at Sears full time and just barely making enough to get by and because my parents waited until I was legally an adult, there was no child support.  Living with my dad was not an option (I didn’t want to move to a completely different state at 18 if I wasn’t going to be going to college and no, I wouldn’t have).  I knew when I was a freshman in high school that my parents would be getting divorced when I graduated, so I didn’t even bother to set myself up for the “I’ll do really well and get a scholarship to pay for college.”  Nope, I knew it wasn’t in the cards for me; but that doesn’t mean that I didn’t have dreams about what I wanted to be and I’m sick of people looking at me with disdain when I say that I didn’t go to college.  Lack of college education does not make me an idiot.  I am a reasonably intelligent person.  I have my book smarts and my street smarts.  I may not know what people are talking about all the time, but I know how to research it.  I also know when I’m being lied to.

I took a few classes (all pertaining to working in a library environment, what a waste) when I worked at the library so that I could move up that ladder.  I knew I didn’t want to be there, and yet I climbed anyway.  I loved libraries, so I thought it was a good fit for me.  To be honest, it was raping my soul on a daily basis but we had bills to pay so I continued.  Until the day I didn’t anymore.  One can only take so much abuse for so long.  I sabotaged myself, but I wasn’t the one who put myself in the position where I would have to.  I inherited a job that I didn’t want while working at the library.  I had resigned myself to being a manager, but then they made me a secretary also.  There were no perks to the added responsibilities, only more soul raping and additional stress.  Let me put it this way, when my husband and I got married, I was too tired (mentally) to initiate the consummation of our happy union.  I cried over it for the entire weekend because my job had taken away my ability to feel joy. 

 I didn’t mean for this post to be a rant session, but things linger on my mind and I get frustrated and angry. 

Then again, maybe it’s just PMS.

Have you ever been in the shower (nope not the question yet) and finished shaving one leg only to look down at the other one and think, for the briefest of moments, I’m too tired to shave the other leg?

And in that oh so brief moment, you also think, who would notice?  I’m planning on wearing pants.

Don’t worry, I shaved the other leg.

I’m a big reader.  I’m also a choosy reader.  I prefer horror, because it reminds me that things could be so much worse for me.  If I don’t want to think, I read Chick Lit.  I’m not proud, but I tend to read a lot of books that require thought, and Chick Lit is thoughtless, it’s a romance novel without the gratuitous sex scenes.  Non fiction books tend to bore me a little, unless it’s about something that I feel passionately about: music/musicians, art/artists, the occasional actor, movies, urban legends (I love urban legends they’re like ghost stories, and I find both highly addictive) and writing.

Anyway, I started trying to read The Ruins again.  I tried reading it when it first came out and I was working at the library, and yet again I’m reading a book that was a bestseller and having a hard time with it.  It started off slowly, and I just couldn’t get into it.  People would tell me about it, and I would listen with interest.  I wanted to read it, but it felt very Stephen King to me (Stephen King is a great writer in my opinion, but you need like 200+ pages for him to really get into the story.  I find them hard to get into at first but once you pass that 200 page mark, it’s hard to put the book down).  I am currently only 65 pages into The Ruins, and having a hard time getting into it.  So, I need to vent a little.

I’m a whore for the details, it doesn’t matter how big or how small, I like details.  I get why some authors don’t give you a lot of details; they want you to be able to insert yourself into the story.  They don’t want you to get bogged down with the details of what someone looks like because they want you to imagine that it’s you.  They don’t eloborate details of where something is because they want it to feel like somewhere you would have been or something you would have seen yourself.  I get it, but that doesn’t change the fact that I need to be able to picture what someone looks like when I read the story and I need details of where they are. 

My mom would probably be able to read this book in a day because she doesn’t need details, she feels they slow the story down.  I’m creative, she is practical.  There is absolutely nothing wrong with that, I’m just stating that there are two different kinds of readers. 

My husband is trying to pressure me to hurry up and read the book because he wants to go see the movie when it comes out.  In honesty I want to see the movie too and I really don’t want to still be reading the book while I’m watching the movie.  Although, at this point I think seeing the movie would help, but I like to read and then see the movies. 

I guess the point of this post is that I’m hoping someone out there has read this book and can tell me to just keep pushing on.  I guess I’m hoping someone can tell me that yes, it is Stephen King-like but no, it won’t take 200 pages to get into.  I’m hoping at some point the details will kick in and I won’t be left struggling to imagine it all.  If anyone can help, I’m willing to take suggestions and kind words of encouragement, hell I’ll even take not so kind words of encouragement (sometimes I need someone to tell me not to do it for me to really want to do it).  Anything will help at this point, I just want to know whether or not it gets better.  Is it worthy of the Bestseller status?  Should it be a movie?

Every once in awhile I can’t wait until I have my poor unsuspecting husband in the car, and I have to pump my own gas. 

Today was one of those days.  If I had tried to make it until I had him in the car with me, we would have never made it home.  As it was I barely made it home last night, but was too tired to stop at a gas station on my way home.

Anyway, I’m at the gas station and I was just starting to pump the gas when a song came on over the gas station sound system (God forbid people have to pump their gas in silence).  It was a song that I knew, and while I didn’t love the song, sadly I knew the words (Ok, it was Jennifer Lopez’s Waiting for Tonight).  I knew the words because I am a radio station flipper and occassionaly happend across this song on my quests and in all honesty, the song isn’t that difficult to learn the words to.

So because I was in a good mood and the weather was gorgeous, I started singing and doing a little dance.  Out in public.  At a busy gas station.  I think I should mention that I may not have been singing too quietly.

At one point I turned around to see what the damage was at and noticed that the guy on the other side of the pump I was using was staring at me.  I did my best imitation of a person who was not mentally unbalanced and finished up my gas pumping duties. 

When I finished, I peeked over at his side and smiled and told him to have a nice day.  He continued to look at me like I may be insane, but gave me a little nod.  I like to think that I gave him something to smile about for the rest of the day.

On the plus side, when I was on my way to pick my husband up from work a car full of teenage boys whistled at me, and one of my husbands co-workers (and my sister in laws boyfriend) told my husband that I’m looking “hot” lately.

Yeah, it was a good day.

The thing I love about insomnia is that every once in awhile it will strike for no reason. 

Last night I went to bed at a reasonable hour, only to wake at 1:00 am for absolutely no reason.  Once I wake up, that’s it though.  My mind starts to work and there is nothing I can do to shut it off.  I have to leave the comfort of my nice warm bed, which suddenly feels too warm (another plus to insomnia), to go and let my mind run and hope that I can get back to sleep sometime before 4 or 5:00 am. 

Having insomnia when you live with someone isn’t like insomnia when you were single.  You suddenly wonder if your partner will notice if you aren’t beside them anymore, and if they do notice, do they care?  My husband likes to take my absence as his opportunity to spread out into the space that I just exited.  He is all too familiar with my inability to fall back to sleep.

And then if you do manage to sneak out of bed undetected, you have to find an activity that will allow your mind do what it needs to do and still not wake the other person.  We live in an apartment so there is really no place to hide.  I’m currently sitting in our office and trying to type as quietly as possible.  Usually my fingers fly over the keyboard doing a whopping 50-60 wpm but because I’m trying to be quiet I have had to slow down my typing.  I have a tendency to bang on the keyboard, a noise that I actually find quite soothing.  Yes, I know I’m weird.

TV is out of the question for me since I would feel the need to listen to what I’m watching, and I’m constantly afraid the noise would wake him up.  Sadly, most of the time I find myself sitting in a too dark room trying to read a book by the lowest setting on one of our touch lamps that are nowhere near to where I like to sit when I’m reading.   

On the plus side, it’s officially April 1, and even at 2:15 am it’s 54 degrees outside.  Right now it’s windy and I have some of the windows open hoping that the cool breeze will send me  back to my bed and back to la la land.  Here’s hoping.