Day One hundred and twenty something: Beauty and the B-cup

Hey there adoring fans (Kelly Cwalina McKew!)

Happy 4th of July!  I mean 8th of July …sorry, time flies when you’re going to die alone.   I know…I know!  I take it back…a little.  But with the week I’ve had it’s been all I can think about.  Last Wednesday, I packed my bag (and my dog) for nearly a full week’s vacation.  4th of July, here I come!  Which was perfect timing because New York City and her restaurants are completely dead during the summer holidays, as the rich folks are headed to the Hamptons and the poor folks are headed to the free beaches that are filled with Hep C.  My family was going to be at our beloved Rivah (that’s how people in the south pronounce river) house for the fireworks and I really wanted to see my grandma as she was beginning to become more and more forgetful (Gold star, yet single tear for those of you that have read my last post and recognize that unfortunately my grandma had passed 2 weeks prior to the trip…still it was a great time to be down with my parents, bro, aunt, uncles, and cousins to celebrate the wonderful life that my grandma had had).  One of my higshchool friends was getting married on the 6th in Baltimore, and as luck would have it my brother has his Improv 101 showcase tonight in Baltimore as well (even more props if you remember that I signed my bro’ski up for improv classes to help with his social skills…you’re totes winning you loyal readers!)    So it has been a jam packed week of fun, but with me, I can’t have too much fun with out analyzing everything that’s happening around me.  So as I sit here at my friend Kelly’s house in Towson and hear the sorrowful groans of her husband in the next bedroom (as he has been peeing out of his butthole for the last 72 hours…big shout out to Mark McKew!) I have come to realize that what has been bothering me this whole vacay is how everyone around me seems to be in a relationship.  I’ve always been aware of the fact that 80% of the people I hang out with are in relationships, but I guess living in New York City takes the edge off.  There are millions of us living on one tiny island (totally made up population count) so I see single people around me all of the time (only half of whom are probably serial killers) but when you spend the week between family vacation…

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and weddings…

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and Clueless marathons on MTV…

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   You start to realize that although you know you are a strong independent woman…you are single…and 30.

Being a single lady has never really bothered me terribly much.  After all, Beyonce did write a song on it (which is only pertinent until Prince Charming  “puts a ring on it”).  I date a little (and I do mean little) here and there and it’s  fun for a bit and as time goes by things fade out.  I’ve always been a big believer in the fact that my life is pretty cool and unless someone is going to make my life better than pretty cool then why bother.  This week, however, has shaken me a little.  Relationships as far as the eye can effing see!!!  In some of the relationships, the two people were happy.  They were partners in the great journey of life.  Best friends.  A pod of peas.  Comrades.

Please vomit over Exhibit A:

My cousin Jessica and her husband Garren.


  And some relationships made me less than inclined to join the “taken” team.  I saw husbands/boyfriends/partners treating their significant others (and sometimes the general public) like a big sack of crap-potatoes.

Exhibit B:

‘Nough said.

But in every case I could feel these people, for better or worse, content with their partners and moving forward with their lives together.  Even a few of them are starting families.  Yes, I’m still crazy ole’ Sarah who’s fun to be around…

Just ask my Dad!

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or this bottle of Diet 7 up!

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or my friend Kelly!

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Ok…don’t ask Kelly….she’s still mad that I haven’t made her an adoring fan yet…until she reads this post…and cries with joy…and doesn’t complain about taking me to the bus station at 1am…

But I’m not the most important person in anyone’s life.  Except Ruby.  My dog.  That just stared at me while licking her butthole as I’m typing this post.  And then I feel like I’m in a Horcrux.  No.  That can’t be right.  I think that’s Harry Potter.  Debating weather or not you are ok to be alone for the rest of your life should not be decided while drinking Carona’s in the afternoon.  Don’t judge me.  I’m still on vacation until tomorrow…when I will go back to drinking at a more reasonable hour.  I’m in a conundrum?  Oh what the Hell…I’m in a pickle.  I’m 30.  I’m moderately attractive, with a decent personality and a full B-cup***.  I love my friends and family very much and I know they love and care about me.  But then there’s that little voice in my head… “Should I be actively pursuing the chance to be the most important person in the world to someone?  Maybe actually bring a date to a wedding for once in my adult life?  Have I been purposely pushing people away because I am worried to have someone mean more to me than I mean to myself?  If it was meant to be wouldn’t it have happened?  Am I taking back women kind 50 years by possibly hoping to find someone that will take me to the hospital when I’ve been peeing out of my butthole for 72 hours?”

 I just don’t know.  And maybe I never will….but now that I got that all off with my chest, be sure to stay tuned for how I spent the next 4 hours making myself feel better by playing improv at the mall…

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***Since writing this post I received a lot of lovely feedback from friends telling me how great I am, and I know, I know!   I am pretty awesome so I shouldn’t have down graded my good qualities.  What I should have said was that I’m smokin’ hot, with a better-than-Zoe-Deschanel personality, and a nearly C cup size (when I have period boobs).  

Thanks J-Pack!

Day 5: O is for Oh my god I have to get my s*it together….

Hey there adoring fans (Jessica Pack)!

Have you ever had one of those days where you realize that your life is not going in the direction you want?   Well maybe it’s going in the direction that you wanted for the last 20 years but all of a sudden it doesn’t seem quite as fulfilling as it did before?  And then you realize that in order to change the path your going down, you should probably have a panic attack and decide you need to change everything about yourself all at once and then drink a bottle of wine and start googling things like:

“How to make a living out of the things that you love to do.”

“How to take a break from Musical Theatre (that you’ve spent your entire adult life focussing on) and not feel bad about it.”

“How to start living less like a teenage slob and more like a 30 year old woman”

“How to come to terms with the fact that you are probably going to die alone…well not completely alone if you’re surrounded by 27 ferrets…(but then realize that you’re a strong independent woman and you don’t need anyone to make your life complete… until you start watching movies like The Notebook and Sweet Home Alabama…and then you google ‘Top 27 cute ferret names'”

“How to write a screenplay.”

“How to get some damned health insurance (and maybe some dental while your at it because that back left molar feels weird and looks a little grey.)”

“How to lose 10lbs”

“How to NOT drink 2 bottles of wine every night (except Saturdays, cause that’s when you drink a dozen Corona’s and Jack Daniel’s shots…at work…which is probably not helping you lose 10lbs you fat moron).”

“How to save enough money so that you can afford this new shiny computer that you financed, be a bridesmaid in your best friend’s wedding (who is getting married in Illinois this summer and the dress alone costs $211), and I don’t know, save for retirement because ferret food is expensive.”

All of these thoughts came rushing at me like an angry mob carrying pitchforks and those big sticks where the ends of them are lit on fire …torches!…that’s the word I’m looking for, torches!… on January 4th, the day after I turned 30.  Over the last few days, I’ve calmed myself down (xanax) and come to terms with the fact that although I have a ton of new aspirations, my life is pretty good right now, and I’ll be ok if I don’t get everything done in one day.  It’s time for some baby steps.  I read in an Anthony Robbins book once, Awaken the Giant Within,  (whatever, I read self-help books sometimes, well, I start self-help books and get about half way through before I get bored and start drinking wine sometimes) that…if you do something to better your life every single day, your life is gonna, duh, get better*! I also came across this quote in a women’s magazine (I don’t remember which one, “Self”, “Women’s Health”,  “Eat Right and Workout you idiot so you can stop buying all of these magazines because they all say the same thing  just in different colored fonts”, that said “it takes 66 days to form a habit**”  which I think is really poignant given the name of my beloved blog here.

 So that’s what the new Sixty-six days of Sarah is about.  Each day I will try to do something to better my life and hopefully 66 days will go by and I will acquire myself a nice little habit and an even nicer little life…smiley face!


*that Tony Robbins quote isn’t really a quote because I didn’t feel like looking it up, but I’m pretty sure he said that….minus the “duh”.

**says Professor Jane Wardle, of University College London, who carried out the study with Dr Phillippa Lally.