For today

A good word

I am itching to chase one of these

Another good word that I need to always remember

Some new tunes (Anderson East)

Saw this badass woman last week.

And i want to be her.

No lie.

And sometimes this sums up my life

Sorry I'm not sorry..

But really, I'm planning on more of this

but really

And..

I plan to..

Read more

Write more

Laugh more

Be more

Fish more

And sometimes, just do nothing.

Yes.  Perfect.

 



the weekend

Knee deep

There is not much that can compare to standing knee deep in salt water with your rod in hand.  In the most beautiful place that you have ever seen.  The place that you are lucky enough to call home.  You stare into the sun hoping like you have never hoped before just to see the tip of that red tail weaving above the water.  You forget to breathe in anticipation.  You begin to hear sounds that you didn't notice before.  You don't notice all of the bugs swarming your ghostly white skin.  Or your feet slowly sinking into the mud.   Nothing else matters.  It actually feels like time is stopped.  Except for the sinking of the sun.  And then you know your time is precious.  Even if you see no tail, which happened last night, it is worth it.  Worth standing in a spot for one hour and witnessing a perfect sunset.  Worth it to take it all in.  Last night, while we were wading out on that flat, I was so thankful to be just standing there sharing it with a dear friend.  I wish everyday could be like that:)

Are we there yet?

Things, moments, events happen all of the time.  Things that give us perspective.  Things that help us become who we are and more importantly, who we hope to be.  Over the past 4 months I'd say that I have experienced more of these "life things" than I'd have liked.  Both good and bad.  But, guess what?  Nothing I can do about it.  Some I welcomed.  Some I resisted.  Some hit me like a flipping ton of bricks.  Right to the face...  Some even deepened friendships.  Even the bad things have given me new perspective.  They have made me tougher.  They have made me more vulnerable.  They have made me more honest.  They have made me give up control (kicking and screaming).  They have also shown me something, that I never want to lose sight of.  When I think back over the last few months, I feel like I have caught little glimpses of something more.  Something bigger than me.  I caught glimpses of the person that I want to be.  And for some reason, this gives me peace.  I will more often times than not, catch myself getting a little downtrodden.  Usually it happens after a good dose of self comparison.  Or if I have to see more baby ultra sounds on my fb feed.  Or TMI honey moon pics.  Just venting here...  (No offense to any of you.)  But, I will get kind of down. Like I missed the boat or something.  But, if I look at it as a bigger picture- I'm ok.  I will be ok.  I know that I am doing what I think I am being called to do.  And that is to love God.  To love people.  To be kind.  And to do the best that I can.  It's all supposed to point in one direction.  And that is up.  Not inward (although, I sometimes botch that part up).  I used to want to hurry up and get where I am supposed to be.  But, deep down, it's good to take it all slow(at least for me).  To process, to take it in, to live.  Even the hard moments.  I don't want to be in a hurry to get somewhere and then miss out on the moment.  I'm sure I'm a lil behind the game or whatever, but I don't care if I am not out every night, living the dream (yes, an occasional night is fine).  I'm a nerd, I'd rather be watching a sunset with a cold beer.  Or casting my line aimlessly into a flood tide.  Or playing my guitar.  Or writing on this here blog. Or having a really good chat with a great friend/s.  These are the pieces of life that I absolutely LOVE.  These are pieces that give me a glimpse into something more.  I know there are great things awaiting.  I know there are hard things awaiting.  And they will get here when they get here.  And when they do, I will embrace it.  Because I know they are growing me.  And challenging me.  And moving me one step closer to who I want to be.  So boom.  Those are my thoughts on this lovely Wednesday.

Currently jamming to:
Andrew Belle
Gareth Dunlop
Marvin Gaye

Get down on it,
SRS

Open for Business: My first time

I know some of you got really excited when you read that title. (Tyler)..  Any who.  Sorry to disappoint, but I don't think you will be getting what you think just yet.  As I explained in my first "Open for Business" post, I've been proactively trying to match my outfits, brush my hair and just look a little more together than I had been for the past 27 years. No biggie.  I'd like to go ahead and say thanks for the positive feedback.  It has been hilarious.  I appreciate it.  My favorite part is how funny people are.  Like if I wear a watch or a bracelet I feel like I just rescued a cat from a tree or something.  Praise comes from all around.  It must have been a dire situation...  Haha. 

Today I had a first.  (It's not what you are thinking).  I was measuring a lovely triplex in a not so fine part of West Ashley this am.  I finishing up the last unit when I noticed the tenant kind of watching me.  Staring at me.  I am incredibly awkward naturally, so this was starting to get weird.  And funny.  Finally she complimented my chacos.  I should have known she was up to something with that because my fashion advisers are not big fans of the trusty chacos.  Then she dropped the hammer and asked me if I had heard of Mary Kay.  Oh shit.  Crap.  Why me??  I do not like make up.  I do not want to know about make up.  I do not want you to tell me that I need to wear makeup. I have enough of that on my own.  Panic set in.  I frantically mentioned that I have in fact heard of Mary Kay.  The pink Cadillac right? Please don't invite to a Mary Kay throw down.  Scary Kay.  She then says that she wants to give me a free trial.  Hello? Are you saying that I need makeup?  Is this a bad looking situation?  I happened to think that my skin was looking quite refreshed today.  I started to get nervous.  Then I started to sweat a little. I told her I was more of a tom boy.  She didn't fall for that.  She went on to tell me about her transformation etc.  I finally convinced her that I was not going to be wearing any makeup.  It's not you, it's me I told her.  She was quick on her feet and then went the skin care route.  I was not prepared for this part.  She asked if I took care of my skin.  Why? Is it bad?  I noticed my right cheek is a bit ashy, but is it obvious?  Oh no.  She asked if I washed my face. Yes, in the shower, with my left over shampoo....  This does not sound good.  So I whipped out some words of products I've heard of while living with the Wagner women.  I used words like oil free, spf, non greasy etc.  She tried to push some more product on me.  When she realized I was like a steel trap, she went for another tactic.  Would I be interested in dealing the products?  Oh hell no.  Ain't happening.  Do you even know who I am?  I'm the last person that should ever sell beauty needs.  And then the most hilarious thought crossed my mind.  What if I, Sarah Sass became a dealer of makeup.  I got the best visual ever.  I mean, I'm pretty sure I could deal some stuff.  I'd be cruising the pink caddy.  My vision was dashed when I saw her pulling out little samples.  I backed away quickly.  I thought she was going to slide them in my own pocket or put them down my shirt.  My personal space was just manhandled like none other.  I tried to kill her with kindness and then high tailed it out of there ASAP. 

I casually told her that I was working on my wardrobe situation first. But I would be in touch if I needed some Mary Kay.  Makeup and product etc could come later.  Fashion alone is enough to occupy this hot mess express.

Changing the world one outfit at a time,
The Fashionista....

Today

I'd like to take a moment and share today's inspection.  Just so you feel like you were there with me.

I wind down the unkept driveway in Dorchester, SC.  The house comes in to view.  The house pretty much matches the driveway with all the vegetation growing up against the house almost past the windows.  it looks like a nice place to hide bodies.  If need be.  So I take my precious time exiting my safe automobile.  I did let a friend know where I was, but I'm not too sure that would have actually pro longed  my short life.  I make my way to the porch.  I knock very politely on the front door.  Lots of barking.  Oh good. My favorite.  A 5'2 scary woman answers the door gruffly holding back what I thought was a polar bear.  Luckily it was just a freaking giant husky dog.  I nervously say hello.  She says, "Why would you knock?  You should know to ring the bell.  I could hve been in the other room and would have never known.  Geez, shouldn't you know that?"  Nice to meet you too...  I can smell the inside of the house from my spot on the porch.  Great, this should be real fun.  So I go around the house, silently cussing to myself.  She comes out with her two dogs.  She tells me the dogs are named Daniel and LaTasha.  (She may think they are actual humans, I'm not sure).  LaTasha doesn't like strangers she says.  Oh good.  LaTasha was copping a tude with me and let me know with a lovely snarl.  We go back into the house.  Which is almost completely dark.  I just love when I go into a strangers house and then hear them lock the deadbolt.  Awesome.  I ask her (casually) why she needs to lock that.  Her response, "My husband could come back anytime.  Scuse me, my Ex.  I had dead bolts put on everything because you never know when he will try and get back in.  His brother lives next door and has been spying on me."  Oh good.  I feel so good now. "Oh and I have only seen him once since he left and he died his hair white.  And gained wait.  He looks like Saint Nick.  Bad Santa." Lovely. I then ask if maybe we could turn on some overhead lighting. (Seemed pretty normal at the time to ask that)  "No.  I don't like light."  Oh ok.  I then all of a sudden just start sweating.  She could probably see the beads of sweat free falling off of me.  "My ac is broke.  But I am not putting a dime into this since he is getting the house."  Oh alright.  Good thing I hydrated.  So here I am, sweating, trying not to throw up from the smell, and going as fast as possible so the ol husband doesn't make his return while I am here.  I am meandering through the place and realize the worst possible thing imaginable.  I stepped in a flipping hippo sized pile of dog shiz that there could possibly be.  In the bedroom.  Great.  Sick.  Now I'm really going to throw up.  Mild panic sets in as I realize that the shit could actually be touching my skin.  Oh god.  She acts pissed.  Pissed that I didn't know to look out for crap inside the house???  I realize that I don't even want to take the shoe off, because I don't want my bare feet being exposed to anything in this place.  She hands me some old magazines to use.  Shotgun news.  She collects them.  Her ex also collects plastic bags from any store.  They are stacked from floor to ceiling.  I manage to just wrap my foot/chaco in the bag and proceed.  No need to waste anymore time here.  We get to the second bedroom, where the dogs live.  They have their own tv.  They like to watch nypd blue.  re runs.  Naturally.  She then informs me that she is a cross stitcher.  And shows me some work.  After several minutes of staring I ask what apparently a dumb question.  "Are these all cross stitches of The Godfather?"  She stares at me like I am a complete idiot.  "Yes."  And that's it.  Alright. I realized suddenly that she would be Megan from Bridesmaid's less sophisticated sister, if there was such a character.   I politely said my goodbyes as fast as humanly possible.  I had to drive all the way back to the corner store of Dorchester and beg to borrow a hose. 

So that is my adventure of the day.  Just thought I would share.

Open For Business

And so it begins.

Alright.  I am about to give some full disclosure here.  Vulnerability at it's finest.  I've been meaning to write this for many months, but kept hesitating.  Maybe out of fear or insecurity.  Or maybe I just didn't think that the world was ready for what is about to go down.  Or maybe you would think I was a cray cray.  Oh well.  Lately, I have been trying to drop this whole fear thing, so I am going to give it a go.  It's about to get real up in here.  Buckle your seat belt.  Maybe all the boys can stop reading now..

And so begins the Open For Business Saga.

If you know me (even the slightest bit), then you know some of the Sarah Sass basics.  I am not what some would call prissy.  I love my ugly blue fleece jacket (some compare it to a sweatshirt, but I see it as the Hope diamond.  Okay, maybe not that nice, but you get my point). I love to fish and hunt.  I will do almost anything to avoid things that make me uncomfortable.  Such as dressing up.  Or talking about  periods. (There I said it.) (sorry to the boy readers out there).  I don't love change. I could eat at Mozzo everyday for the rest of my life.  For breakfast, lunch and dinner.  I play it tough, but I am a sap.  Huge sap.  I can now cry at any moment.  Happy or sad.  I love my people.  I like the Atlanta Braves.  I love sad songs.  Seriously.  Sometimes a sad song just gets you.  Nothing like listening to sad songs with a nice iced coffee while riding in the car with the windows down.

Enough of the background info.  Here goes nothing.  If you have known me prior to 2013, then you know that maybe I haven't always been the most fashion forward woman on this planet.  Not the worst per say, but definitely not the best.  Dressing up or even actually just matching my outfits was never actually a concern for moi.  Until now.  I have had a little inspiration.  And here is where we begin.

I'm just going to be straight up (may get in trouble for this, but I'm taking a chance.) Many moons ago I was talking to a friend.  A good friend.  Probably complaining about something.  Like womanhood or losing all of my friends to marriage.  I'm sure I was dooming myself to becoming an old spinster.  I'm not even sure how this went down.  But I was kindly and gently informed that maybe wearing the fleece everyday and a backwards hat was not exactly key in my scoring an independently wealthy other half. (I'm not really after the other half- it was just the topic of one of many conversations.)  This was actually one of the best and definitely most hilarious conversations that I have ever had the pleasure of having.  Normally I would excommunicate someone from the pleasure of my friendship for speaking such heresy, but for some reason I was not offended.  (Supernatural powers must have taken place) (Nobody get any ideas bc this was a one time thing) In fact, slowly, but surely (a little kicking and screaming) I weirdly have embraced it.  I shocked myself.  (Still in a little shock).  Maybe deep down, this person was speaking a little truth?  Maybe I was avoiding.  Maybe I was hiding.  Why?  Who knows.  Lack of self confidence?  Fear of rejection?  To much time in the friend zone?  (Getting deep here I know)  Could it be possible that I had a little pride deep down in there?  Could I have been fueling this "I don't care attitude?"  Now just to clarify- this whole conversation was encouraging. (not condemning) I was only 40% uncomfortable.  I probably made it more dramatic than needed, but it's what I do best.  I felt like coach Taylor had just given me the clear eyes, full hearts pep talk.  I was ready to throw for the end zone. (Or happen to find Tim Riggins)  Maybe don't wear the fleece every single day. Maybe brush the hair.  Maybe match the clothes.  Maybe learn about flats.  Maybe care just a hair (hehe).  While this has all been very entertaining and hilarious, there are bits of it that are true.

So where are we now?   Well, I'm happy to report some improvements.  I got Toms.  I got a fashionable watch.  I have many different stripes to sport.  I got some hair product and like 5 different shampoos.  Picked up some moisturizer.  I got white shorts.  I got red shorts.  I got skinny jeans.  I got colored jeans.  These seem like little tiny things to the average civilian.  But, let me tell you.  To this Tom boy in recovery, it has been like moving mountains.  I'm even less scared of boys.  Miracles do happen people.  Womanhood is harder than I thought though.  Way too much shiz to be dealing with.  Seriously.  I wasn't even aware of most of it.  I'm not sure it's even worth it, but I'm going to keep sticking it out.  Because I have noticed 2 things as of late.

1-I weirdly have more confidence.  I don't know what has made that change, but I feel more confident some days.  Don't want to get mushy over here, but I am not the most confident person that you will know.  I'm actually pretty insecure.  I just try to play it off.  (With a fleece and skate shoes...or with some sarcasm or humor) Flying under the radar was much easier than looking like you actually tried...  Don't get too excited yet. I'm not bouncing around singing Christina Aguilera's "I am beautiful" over here, but we are making some headway.  We are more in the Celine Dion/98 degrees encouraging stage.

2-The feedback.  At first, I didn't pay much attention to it.  But lately, I keep getting surprised.  I keep getting the funniest comments.  Seriously.  You would be amazed.  Half of me thinks it's hysterical.  The other half is mystified.  Mystified that people are noticing.  Which ultimately leads me to believe that maybe I wasn't as cool as I thought.  The fact that people notice my shoes or bracelet concerns me a little that maybe I was a little worse off than I thought before this Open for Business revelation.  Hello?  Friends why did you not inform of all of this over the last 27 years?  I 14% blame you for this situation.  But, really, the feedback has been the best part of all of this.  I die laughing almost on a daily basis.  You know you are moving mountains when the bishop comments on your enhanced girliness (Sorry bish) I posted a picture of some accessorizing on Instagram today and got quite a hilarious response.  The best part is that most of the comments come while in the presence of my Open for Business friend.    It couldn't be planned any better.

So I have decided to embrace this fashion fanfare if you will.  Now, just so we are clear- I am not about to burn the fleece or anything, but I have been upping the game a bit.  I think there is more to come, but this is enough embarrassing disclosure for tonight.

Your inner fashionista,
SRS

Thoughts from Gryffindor Tower: Woman hood

Listen, I will just be 100% real here.  Being a girl is hard.  All you boys can just stop reading now, because you probably don't want to hear this.  Plus you have it so easy that you have no freaking clue.  I'm 27 years old.  I have made it pretty darn far under the blinders of my tomboy ish ness.  I've been desperately avoiding the inevitable transformation into woman hood.  I've been rolling around with un brushed hair, long sleeve t shirts, shorts, chacos, hats etc.  The number one concern has been comfort.    Well, maybe I got a little too comfy..  With the prodding of several fashion advisers, I've felt a little bit of a challenge. To up the game a bit.  At first I was all "hell no."  (Little bit of pride up in there somewhere).  But, over the last few months, I've come around a bit.  It was becoming apparent that one would not attract an independently wealthy husband (in perfect world thinking) (a little dramatic I know) whilst rocking the backwards hat and long sleeve tee.  Although that is my down home choice and we can't just change everything right away.  Anywho.  So I have made some baby steps. I got Toms.  I got moisturizer.  I got a hair product.  I got colored pants. White shorts. Stripes galore over here.  But it is stinking over freaking whelming.  You can't just got for a hair cut.  Once you are there, you may as well get waxed.  Because god forbid you have an eyebrow with a little extra growth on it.  Then you have to have your nails looking good if you are going to be wearing chacos.  Which technically is a no no and I am now on the prowl for nicer flats/sandals etc.  How do you even know if what you are picking out is good?  I mean, every 7th grade girl I know dresses like a million bucks.  Skinny or straight leg?  Flat or sandal?  Do Toms even count as a flat?  What if you wear a size 11 shoe and are forced to get boy Toms because no other woman has the Yorktown for feet??  I can't even begin to address the beauty product situation.  That is a cluster.  Too many damn choices.  I just want to cry when I am looking.  Do I need firming creams?  Anti aging?  I can't be old enough for that yet??  Oil free?  There is no end in sight.  Even the shampoo people have gone overboard.  It is a vortex of choices, indecision and trauma.  Then you need to accessorize.  I just like to rock my watch.  I always wanted to sport bangles, but I'm pretty sure my wrists are ginormous compared to the tiny little frail anthropologie people's wrists.  It's a lose lose.  Then you throw in all the woman crap that comes along with being a woman.  Crazy.  I don't even fully comprehend all of it.  But most of it is a pain in the you know what.  All for what?  The fairy tale.  The fairy tale that you see on Pinterest or in all the magazines.  All the hard work to keep up with the modern woman. 

This is going to be a long, long, long process.....

Okay, I'll stop now...

Cheers.