Change your own life, before someone does it for you. Or worse, it never happens at all.
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@sarahbird-blog
Change your own life, before someone does it for you. Or worse, it never happens at all.
When did this all happen?
Maybe I need you after all, online journal. Maybe I need the private publicity that this blog affords me.
The last 6 months have been the toughest I've ever faced on my own. I'm coming out of it. I think this is what people refer to when they talk about bathing in fire.
I barely tweet anymore. I don't need to be updated that much, which makes the career path slightly clearer. I FB, but I know that I could go without it indetermindly. I disconnected myself this past summer, and the only thing I missed was the body and the lungs across from me. I found myself missing the tenor of voices and the strength of a touch I always knew much more than the tenuous connections cyberspace afforded.
My life manifests itself as a little one note. Work to studying to dinner to cleaning to bed. In and out, everyday, stability I've never been able to understand until I created it for myself. I can feel that, inside, I'm already building my next step, as soon as I've barely reached this one. I am looking for my home, my forever place now, my community that will make my dreams obvious and inspire me to follow them without all of this fear I had been trapped in, like some sort of suffocating concrete mold around my legs.
I'm becoming my adult self, and I have little control over it. My face is maturing and I'm more comfortable in my skin and in my thoughts than ever before. I'm responsible. I'm cautious, but not boring.
It's all just...happening. I feel like the cliche of the movie star running and her hair flying about her, lacking much control. When did this all happen?
More than putting another man on the moon, more than a New Year’s resolution of yogurt and yoga, we need the opportunity to dance with really exquisite strangers. A slow dance between the couch and dinning room table, at the end of the party, while the person we love has gone to bring the car around because it’s begun to rain and would break their heart if any part of us got wet. A slow dance to bring the evening home, to knock it out of the park. Two people rocking back and forth like a buoy. Nothing extravagant. A little music. An empty bottle of whiskey. It’s a little like cheating. Your head resting on his shoulder, your breath moving up his neck. Your hands along her spine. Her hips unfolding like a cotton napkin and you begin to think about how all the stars in the sky are dead. The my body is talking to your body slow dance. The Unchained Melody, Stairway to Heaven, power-cord slow dance. All my life I’ve made mistakes. Small and cruel. I made my plans. I never arrived. I ate my food. I drank my wine. The slow dance doesn’t care. It’s all kindness like children before they turn four. Like being held in the arms of my brother. The slow dance of siblings. Two men in the middle of the room. When I dance with him, one of my great loves, he is absolutely human, and when he turns to dip me or I step on his foot because we are both leading, I know that one of us will die first and the other will suffer. The slow dance of what’s to come and the slow dance of insomnia pouring across the floor like bath water. When the woman I’m sleeping with stands naked in the bathroom, brushing her teeth, the slow dance of ritual is being spit into the sink. There is no one to save us because there is no need to be saved. I’ve hurt you. I’ve loved you. I’ve mowed the front yard. When the stranger wearing a shear white dress covered in a million beads comes toward me like an over-sexed chandelier suddenly come to life, I take her hand in mine. I spin her out and bring her in. This is the almond grove in the dark slow dance. It is what we should be doing right now. Scrapping for joy. The haiku and honey. The orange and orangutang slow dance.
“Slow Dance,” Matthew Dickman (via vlorin)
Life has a way of putting you right where you need to be.
Dr. King, 2010
Isaac's Lip Dub Proposal
“You are the creators and the curators of your own lives. You create your own life and your work. Give us your best. Give us the best of your art. We crave it. We hunger for it. Help us to see ourselves, to know ourselves. Illuminate our lives, and keep in mind what Victor Hugo said: ‘Popularity is the crumbs of greatness.’
And please, please… for the sake of our culture, for the sake of mankind: don’t create any more reality TV shows.”
Leonard Nimoy Urges CFA Grads to “Live Long and Prosper”
Graduation weekend, part 2.
Reception, reception, reception, reception.
Not ready to do this without you, Momma.
Be honest and be kind. It's really that simple, as it turns out.
You Can't Be Serious
I've figured out the secret to DGAFing when someone flirts with you. And then you get to be the aloof, cool one for a change.
Just fall in love, get hurt really badly, stop eating after a major illness so you have that unhealthy pallor that makes 'em love you, and feel completely unimpressed when some guy drops a line on you, most especially because fake looks like wax fruit next to the incredible bounty you had before....someone lit your heart on fire. Not in the cool, Postal Service songs way.
You did love. You have better things to do now. Next stop, the world.
FACE
GPOY
You fly, bear.
Rainy day comfort for today. The video is a reminiscent homage to friends and summer to come.
Ben Howard has the best voice and lyrics-check out "The Fear", as well.
What men mean when they talk about their “crazy” ex-girlfriend is often that she was someone who cried a lot, or texted too often, or had an eating disorder, or wanted too much/too little sex, or generally felt anything beyond the realm of emotionally undemanding agreement. That does not make these women crazy. That makes those women human beings, who have flaws, and emotional weak spots. However, deciding that any behavior that he does not like must be insane– well, that does make a man a jerk. And when men do this on a regular basis, remember that, if you are a woman, you are not the exception. You are not so cool and fabulous and levelheaded that they will totally get where you are coming from when you show emotions other than “pleasant agreement.” When men say “most women are crazy, but not you, you’re so cool” the subtext is not, “I love you, be the mother to my children.” The subtext is “do not step out of line, here.” If you get close enough to the men who say things like this, eventually, you will do something that they do not find pleasant. They will decide you are crazy, because this is something they have already decided about women in general.
Lady, You Really Aren’t “Crazy” (via sparkamovement)
ouch
(via botchbot)
yeah. i got really tired of my ex “putting up with ‘my crazy’.”
(via polerin)
As abroad acceptance letters roll in, I remember one year ago, thinking about how far away you would be from me. How painful it would be to have my forever so many miles gone.
Who knew that one year later, you'd be standing next to me, yet never further away?
So many miles gone.
Dear Job Seekers: A Letter
Dear Job-Seekers,
There are some things I want to share and thoughts I have, as a current job-seeker myself, in both an economy that isn't looking upon us kindly and a society that has reinvented itself.
You are not worthless. Don't take a job doing something you hate until you really, really have to, and even then, keep searching. You're going to find something you love, and if you don't, or, if that position doesn't exist, make it. Invent it. Scrape by for now while you figure it out-we're young, we aren't supposed to be comfortable. Be hungry and scared and a little desperate, and you'll keep looking. Complacence is fine until you're 50 and you realized you never really chased what you wanted. If you want a full time job with a full salary, you deserve it. Do not undervalue yourself, your many skills, your talents, your unique personality and contributions.
You have done everything right-you interned, volunteered, all-nightered, spent your college years doing what you love and all of these things will help you, when the right employer sees your application. It takes a mutual good fit, not just what you think is your dream job. As someone who has applied for multiple dream jobs, I know. I thought I had found The One a month ago. It was my one day for not doing work during spring break, and I applied, then got on a subway to downtown New York. I spent $18 on cupcakes, found a FedEx office to print my resume, and put it in a bright blue manila envelope. I walked 20 blocks in heels to deliver these things, trying to be as memorable as possible. The guard wouldn't even let me up-I had to leave them at the door. When I called in the morning, the HR rep who answered practically hung up on me. Not a "thanks for applying", nothing. My wide-eyed optimism and belief that if I chased it, I'd get a chance, earned me a swift kick in the confidence. I was so hurt. I love this organization! They spit rhetoric about wanting to help young women like it's their life mission, and this is how they treat me? But I'm one person, in the sea of many, that they saw as an annoying pest, not a potential hire. And that's ok, because working there would have sucked. I don't want to work somewhere where they treat potential hires like dirt, as if they never had to start out themselves. This story isn't meant to discourage you-it's meant to tell you that they have to want you, too. Fight for jobs, and when it's worth it, they'll fight for you.
Ignore your parents and older relatives. They were wrong when they told you you couldn't get a job Tweeting, weren't they? Their generation, their world, is very different. Many industries that have proved lucrative, exciting, and have provided a life for many people didn't even exist when they were starting out. They grew up when people went from undergraduate to grad school to the world, degree in hand, ready to earn money and start a family. And that's wonderful, and that still works for some people. But for many of us, it doesn't. Our lives are no longer straight arrows, and that's the way we want it. I'd be a gajillionaire if I had a dollar for everytime my mom has said "How long are you taking off of school..." with fear in her voice. Don't let their not understanding make you feel badly about your future. Take their support, block out their doubts. They want the best for you, they just don't get it yet.They will.
It's not always going to be like this. It won't always be this hard. You'll get a job, and switch jobs, and change your mind, but once you hit job one, everything will start to seem a little less overwhelming. You can switch careers and industries at 27 and 67. I recently sat in a design class with a 65 year old retired nurse. She's looking to get her master's degree and pursue a career. It's never too late, and things change.
Get a mentor your own age. I love networking, I admit, and a lot of people I connect with have been older professionals, well entrenched in their field. Their advice has been invaluable and priceless to me. They have connections and wisdom I could never get elsewhere. However, they are a bit removed from where I am in life, and seeking out people who have only been in the field for a few years has been the best thing. They get how hard it is out there. They'll give you an honest opinion about how Americorps barely pays you, and how being an administrative assistant can still be a foot in the door if it's at a progressive company. There are more than 3, or 8, or 20 ways to "start out" nowadays. I know, the possibilities feel exhausting, another thing to apply for. But it may be comforting to know, at some point, that there are many things to do that aren't "wrong".
You might be thinking with jealousy about your friends going straight to grad school. They, at least, know what they are doing...I know I'm feeling scared and envious. How could I be so stupid? Why did I think I would put that off, or not go at all? The thing is, there's a reason you chose the work world after graduation. There are many reasons, in fact. You know yourself and this was the right choice, for you. Really.
You are so, so, SO not alone. It feels like that when our best friend is coffee and 8 dozen HR websites, making cover letter after cover letter, sticking them into the online black hole that is the modern job hunt. A lot of us are struggling. We're just pretending not to, so it feels less hopeless. Try to casually bring this up with someone. You'll get solidarity, compassion, empathy.
I hope I showed that to you, to some point.
Sarah
I had a really weird, confusing day today. The thing I thought I wanted to do forever felt...more discouraging than ever, while advice from strangers and life-work-possibilites sprang up from nowhere, exciting ideas I didn't even know I had.
More than ever, I've been asking myself the two simplest, hardest questions: who am I, and what am I going to do with the few years I have on the Earth? I've been feeling so...so sad lately, so disillusioned with the work that used to be the thing that drove me forward. And I'm pretty young and green to be feeling that way already. Further, I had...have?...this belief that the community I have built wants to see me succeed, understands that I need this, that I need the help because, in so many ways, I am a product of the hideous abuses I rail against.
Maybe all of this discouragement adds up to something meaningful. Maybe I am struggling to take a path that isn't really supposed to be mine.
It reminds me of when I was younger, and all I ever wanted to do was go to some foreign country and be a doctor to people who needed it, forever. Leave and never come back, honestly. And as I've grown and learned, I realized that this is totally imperialistic and problematic but the thing I've learned first and foremost, as I've gotten older, is the one thing I seemed to have missed as an idealistic kid: anything is possible. I create these blocks in my head to the things I do, but many people do amazing things not because they could overcome 5000 different blocks, but because they just...wanted to, and they figured out a way to make it happen.
All I want now, all I've wanted for years, is to be a writer. Do y'all know I wrote a novel? And it doesn't completely suck. It poured from my heart and my fingertips. My heart burst onto the page and I've barely scratched the surface. And, in my head, I keep creating this idea that I can't be a writer. That the unsteady income, the solitude, the uncertainty of being published...that my words are not worthy of giving my life to. But they are. I'd rather give my work to my words than to any other thing. And I have to take the leap of faith and believe in my ability to do that.
I have to believe that I can, and then...I just will.
When a pesky mosquito messes with Juma, Ting takes over to help his friend.
I laughed a lot at the end. Really cute animated short, especially for one under 2 minutes.