little sarah Big World

Month: June, 2012

June 17, 2012

So Fresh and So Clean

~OR~

Good Morning, Sunshine!

I pulled up this little beauty in the library garden this morning. Already we are seeing the “fruits of our labor,” and it thrills me to no end. Garden work is satisfying, says I.

I did not eat the little guy, however, as I am fasting. Yep. That’s a thing, and I am doing it.

I did a week of clean eating–absolutely no meat or dairy (I’d been cheating, especially when it was invisible, like in a cookie), no gluten, and no refined sugar (although exceptions were made for beer and french fries at the Mad Men series finale…). Then I did 3 days of raw food, which I was actually pretty good at. My only cheat was a honey delight at work–honey, seeds, and dried fruit. So I feel like if that’s the worst cheat, then I’m in good shape.

And today I commenced with the juicing.

So breakfast was beets, carrots, apple and a bit of fig. Then I went and worked in the garden. Then I came home SO HUNGRY and made lunch:

Beets, beet greens, apple, orange, and carrot. Not too bad, but I was still incredibly hungry after. With the raw food, I was only super ravenous the first day, and then I seemed to get used to it. So hopefully this will be the same.

However, it’s all leading up to a 10-day Master Cleanse (judge me, go ahead), which means I’d probably better get used to feeling hungry. I know this is hard for people to understand, but I am actually excited to be doing this. Even the first day of raw food, when I was hungry and cranky and light-headed, I just kept thinking about how I was about to go on an amazing journey, and that I didn’t know what would come next. I’ve been fascinated with fasting for years now, and leading up to this I’ve been researching like crazy, so it’s really very fulfilling to me to be finally doing it.

Call me crazy.

 

 

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June 12, 2012

Goal Orientation

Things I Am Going to Do Today:

– sleep in

– drink coffee/pay bills/check up on blogs/pinterest

– snack (salty)

– play nintendo with Kevin

– read (Barbara Kingsolver’s Animal Vegetable Miracle)

– nap

– snack (sweet)

– run

– work

– try to reconcile with a friend. again.

– make lists/set goals

 *       *       *

Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about goals. Making them, keep them, tracking them. I’ve decided that what I’d like best is to have a goal for every year, every season, every month, every week, and every day. That sounds like a lot, but really it’s not. For example, today is Tuesday, June 12th, 2012. It is summer, I am 26 years old, and here are my goals:

26 Years – be more bad-ass and independent; know thyself

Summer – go for more long walks

June – fast AND organize/decorate the apartment

This Week – better time management

Today – relax and do as I please

 

See? That’s not so much, is it? And they fit nicely within one another, like Russian nesting dolls. It is important to note, however, that goals are not the same as a To-Do list. Today’s To-Do list involves calling my dad, paying the bills, blogging for the library, etc. A To-Do list is about tasks and accomplishments, whereas my goals are about growth and progress. They represent a steady evolution, rather than a check-mark.

And the list above? Well, that’s just because I realized that I would be able to do everything I wanted to do today, at a more-or-less leisurely pace, despite having slept in until ALMOST 11:00 and having to work at 4:00. It pleased me, and so I celebrated with a list.

*       *       *

How about you? What are your goals for today, tomorrow, this week, this month? What are your summer goals? What do you want to do with this year of your life? And, most importantly, how are you going to make this happen?

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June 10, 2012

How I am Spending My Sunday (at work)

Catching up on friends’ blogs, like:

emilyrobin

…which led me to:

TILDA STARDUST (“dedicated to the belief that Tilda and Bowie are one person”)

and ponytail (equal parts pleasing and disturbing to look at)

and of course My Parents Were Awesome (I already know exactly which photos I would submit to this)

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Emily has another blog, which is equally worth perusing, though for different reasons. Mostly reasons involving WHY CAN’T I LIVE MY LIFE WITH A SENSE OF GRACE AND WONDER LIKE OTHERS?!?! -type stuff.

*       *       *

Do I love Way Ginger’s tumblr because she’s my friend, or is she my friend because she’s the type of gal to have such an awesome tumblr? It’s a Sunday conundrum, Friends. A sunundrum, if you will.

*       *       *

I also like this gal, and her spirit. And her craftiness. And her baked goods.

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Also, if you’re my boss reading this, then I just want to say that I totally also work super hard, like, ALL the time and work, totally signing so many kids up for summer reading and handing out mad headphones great work ethic etc.

HAPPY SUNDAY!!! Tonight is the Mad Men season finale! I’m going to drink beer and eat french fries WOOT!

 

 

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June 8, 2012

What Summer Looks Like

…so far.

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Changing monies:

Picnicking with family:

Snuggling with friends:

Baking vegan:

PETTING DASCHUND PUPPIES:

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June 7, 2012

Bon Iver, A Wedding, and Pride

~OR~

Since I’ve Been Home

The above picture is from the Bon Iver concert at Red Butte, though it is also a great representation of what I’ve done since being home, which is: eat my body weight in hummus and veggies. And drink. That’s ginger-n-bulleit in the nalgene, Friends.

The concert was the night after I got back, and I almost didn’t go due to general crankiness and party poopery, but I’m glad I did, because of this:

Lady Friendships! Oh, how I am sustained by my frienships. I’ve been battling the blues and blahs since getting home (working every day for 3 weeks straight, anyone?), and even just the little chats here and there have really lifted my spirits.

*       *       *

I played a wedding! With Eric! From pianobike! Here’s what that looked like (from my POV):

*       *       *

…and then there was Pride, for which I baked the most failure cupcakes. Actually, they were for Nicole Friend, who loved and accepted them just as they were (you see what I did there?).

Cupcakes before:

Cupcakes after:

Yes, I used pre-fab frosting. Did I mention I’ve worked every day since coming home? The lesson I learned from this is that you can’t take one concept from a favorite blog, superimpose it onto a Bob’s Redmill recipe, make a bunch of vegan and high-altitude adjustments and expect any sort of coherence. That’s just asking too much.

Anyways, Pride:

and:

Rainbows aside, it was a touching, and then painful day. Touching because over 300 Mormons marched in the parade to show their support, reducing many an onlooker (myself included) to tears. Read more about that here.

Then painful because I day drank. OH MY GOSH, SARAH, NEVER DAY DRINK IT IS ALWAYS THE WORST ALLLWAAAAYS!

I really hope that’s a lesson learned. Learning lessons has been a big theme for me since coming home. I may or may not have considered getting “This is how we learn” tattooed somewhere on my body.

I may or may not still be considering that.

Welcome home, me.

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June 6, 2012

Still Life with Vodka

Plus, you know, bananas. For banana bread. Duh.

 

 

 

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June 4, 2012

¡Hola de España! no.7‏

The epic conclusion!!!

New here? Catch up by reading these:

 ¡Hola de España!‏

¡Hola de España! #2‏

¡Hola de España! no.3‏

¡Hola de España! no.4‏

¡Hola de España! no.5

¡Hola de España! no.6

*       *       *

This will be my last Hola de España. Que triste, ¿no? But I definitely have ganas to come home and be with my friendships and my family in Utah again. Being here has REALLY enforced my appreciation for how unique Utah and Salt Lake City are. No place like it in the world. Even if we do have ridiculous liquor laws.

So…I cheered up in Valencia. I started busquing again, making money, and that’s always nice. I played really well there, and maybe now I’m addicted to the thrill of performing in the streets. Hopefully there’s a patch for that, because no way is it going to be the same in Utah. I also went to the movies two nights in a row in Valencia, the highlight of which was seeing ‘Harold and Kumar: Escape from Guantanamo Bay’ in Spanish. Except here it’s called ‘Dos Colgados Muy Fumados,’ which I think translates to ‘Two Very Stoned Stoners.’

Then, on the bus from Valencia to Barcelona, I sat next to this Italian kid named Francesco, and we got to talking (in Spanish, because his English isn’t too hot. And I don’t speak Italian…), and he said that they had an extra room in his flat where I could sleep. So, now I have my own room in an apartment in Barcelona for free for the week. Awesome, no? The other people there are a Chilean girl named Viviana and a boy from Brighton, England named Josh. So it’s all very international, which is a pretty good representation of Barcelona, as a whole. Since I’ve been here (since Sunday) I’ve hung out with kids from Peru, Argentina, Chile, England, Spain, the US, and then a ton of Italians.

Oh, and I’ve been hanging out with my amigo Brett from the U of U. Viviana took us dancing last night. And of course all of this has been very good for my Spanish. (Carol: De verdad, chica, podemos hablar muchisimo en Español cuando yo vuelva, porque ya hablo tanto mejor . Podemos hablar TODO EL TIEMPO.)

Tonight I’m gonna go check out La Sagrada Familia with Brett, and some other Gaudi building. We already went to Parque Güell, which was crazy and beautiful. I’ve also been to the beach here, and I’ll probably go again before I leave. Then I’ll be back in Madrid on Friday, and then home on Sunday in time for supper (which had damn well consist of spicy cheetos, is all I’m saying…)

Oh, and we went and got pinxos and this dark red champagne-like beverage in a bar here that was SO packed. Like, think of when you go to a concert at a really big venue, and when the main band comes on and everyone rushes the stage, and you’re all pressed in together. It was like that. For, like, 45 minutes while we ate and drank, standing. Apparently this is typical in Barcelona, and I actually had a really good time.

People keep asking me which part of Spain I’ve enjoyed the most. It’s really hard to say. I mean, I’ve only been i n most spots for a handful of days. And they’re all so distinct. Barcelona is very Metropolitan, with wide streets packed with people from all over the world. The Gaudi stuff is just icing on the cake. And I liked Valencia, because of the park in the dried-up river bed. I rented a bike there on Sunday morning and rode for an hour and just thought my thoughts and smiled. I liked Alicante, because the beach is right in the middle of the city, and so is the castle, and it’s filled with shady pocket parks, and it’s just got something special about it. I guess La Mata wasn’t that cool, but I had a good time there. Madrid was amazing, but incredibly hot. And I met so many people there, and Laura and I became good friends. I already have plans to return to her. And being there when Spain won the Euro Cup? How can you beat that?

And of course, of course, I loved Oviedo. She’s beautiful, and very sophisticated, and utterly unique. And the people there definitely appre ciate their classical music. Add to that no tourists and a million beaches that are just a bus-ride away, and what else can you say? Oviedo will always be in my heart.

But soon I’m coming home, and nothing is better than home. I miss you all dearly, and I can’t wait to see you. It’s been great. ¡Hasta ahora!

-love, Sarah

p.s. Plus I am so freakin’ tan, it’s going to blow you away. Ha!

*       *       *

And that was that. Then I came home, broke up with my boyfriend, started hooking up with another, younger guy, lived in my parent’s friend’s basement and anxiously began my last year of college. It made for a great diet.

Things I didn’t say in the emails:

-Kevin (the quiet boy) became my boyfriend of right now, after much drama and hesitation on both our parts.

-I came as close to getting sexually assaulted as I will hopefully ever come by the Italian guy in Barcelona. Just so you don’t think that traveling like this is without risk.

-I fooled around with Michael in La Mata, even though he was a dick to me. I normally don’t date jerks, but apparently in Spain I do, because Jorge was a dick to me, as well, though at least he was very upfront about having “la polla pequeña” (his exact words). Honesty can only get you so far, though, and it certainly won’t get you off.

-Also I don’t know if it comes across just how lonely and confused and cranky I was. I hated traveling alone. I hated being by myself, with only the guilt of my impulsive decisions for company. But now I love traveling alone, more than most anything. I guess it’s just…back then I didn’t know myself very well, or love myself, and now I do. Now I’m my favorite person to spend time with. And I guess we can call that growing older. I used to constantly wish to be able to go back in time, try again, start over. But I almost never wish that now. I’m happy to be where I am.

Which is to say: home.

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June 3, 2012

¡Hola de España! no.6‏

In which we continue the epic saga begun in Hola de Españas 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5.

*       *       *

Hola, todo el mundo…

Wow, can’t believe we’re up to number six already. I feel like I’ve been here forever. Although…I guess the travelling bit is going by fast enough. I already miss being in school in Oviedo oh-so much.

 I’m now in Valencia. I’ve been here since yesterday. And I am so very, very lonely and bored. Everybody who says that travelling solo is fun is wrong. It sucks. Wait, here’s a list of things that are fun to do alone while travelling: going to the beach. Seriously, that’s about it, and even that would be much more fun with others. I’ve nearly lost my will to go look at historical crap. Like, ‘Oh, there’s another old archway, maybe I should go look at it. Wait, I’m alone and nothing is fun when you’re alone. Nevermind.’ That’s me.

So basically I’ve been going to the beach just about every day. Night time is the worst, because that’s when all of Spain conspires to remind me of the joys of companionship by going out to the bars and cafes together and walking around the street in groups. And so many people have been like ‘Don’t worry,  you’ll meet people,’ but no. Michael said to try hanging out in the common area of my hostel, but neither of my hostels since Michael has had a common area. I’ll hear people speaking English in the hall, but what am I supposed to do? Run out and demand that they let me join their already established group of friends? I think not. And meeting spaniards is all but out of the question, as the only spaniards who want to talk to me are guys (or, usually, men) who want more than just friendship. Damnit!

My point is: travelling alone sucks. So there.

I did hang out with this older guy who owns a little tienda in Alicante, and he took me to a chiringuita on the beach, and also I chatted up the kid who worked in the hostel there, and all of that was in Spanish, and even I was surprised at my level of conversation. But other than that, any conversation I’ve had has been in Engliss. With myself. In my journal, which is acting like my Wilson to keep me from totally losing it.

So hopefully I can force Brett to hang out with me four nights in a row in Barcelona, and then I go back to Laura, and then I’ll be home.

Which reminds me: I want to see as many of my family members and friendships as possible upon the night of my return. Chi has tried to squash this plan, because he doesn’t want to share, but I don’t think he quite understands that all I want is to be squeezed to death in the biggest group hug of my life. I get in at 7pm on the 20th. Plan accordingly.

I really miss my sisters. I miss reading Harry Potter to mancub. I miss telling Wachira that I’m not asleep yet. I miss shelving books. I DON’T miss the homeless people, but if I did, there are plenty of them in Spain. I miss doing that fake laugh that Adam thinks is funny. I miss talking in different accents with the friendships. Goodness, I miss TALKING. Anyways. See you soon, todo el mundo.

-love, Sarah

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June 2, 2012

¡Hola de España! no.5‏

…being the 5th in a series, preceded by:

¡Hola de España!‏, ¡Hola de España! #2‏, ¡Hola de España! no.3‏, and ¡Hola de España! no.4

*       *       *‏

Hi, y’all. This’ll be short. I’m in Alicante now. I left Madrid on Thursday with Michael (the Irish kid from Cambridge) and we caught a bus to La Mata, which is a little touristy place, except all of the tourists are Spanish and Brittish and German (although it turns out they prefer to be called ‘English’ instead of Brittish, says Michael). It was fun. We mostly just hung around and he worked on Physics stuff and gave me crap for being American and we enlightened each other on different Englishes (They don’t say sidewalk! Wow! And a handful of other things I didn’t know, because I did know about flannel instead of washcloth and nappy instead of diaper and stuff like that from Chi’s family).

Except that we missed our bus, and that was definitely all my fault, and then I had to buy us two new bus tickets. So I wound up spending 90€ instead of 30€ which sort of defeated the purpose of skipping Seville and Granada to go to La Mata because I could stay for free and save money. Oh well. Moms and Dad: I am not in need of your money (which you have so kindly offered, REMEMBER)…yet. I’m gonna keep trying this busquing thing, even though I made almost nothing in both Madrid and La Mata. I’ll try Alicante, though, and see how far the money I DO have goes before I accept your oh-so-gracious offer. Wait, let me say it like this: I don’t need your money, I’d rather work the streets. Oh, that never gets old…

Pues…nada (‘So…yeah’). Now I’m in Alicante and I’ve officially begun travelling sola, which is alright…so far. We’ll see. Now I’m trying to think of a way to get back to Seville, but I just don’t know if that’s gonna happen. Maybe I’ll catch a plane. If I can do that with my maleta (‘suitcase’) AND violin. We’ll see. We’ll see, we’ll see, that’s where I am right now.

Love and miss you all! In my next e-mail, I’ll include a series of demands for the things I want to eat and who I want to see on the night of my return. But here’s a hint: spicy cheetos and friendships.

-love, Sarah

p.s. Hey, is anyone looking to move out in August? Or does anybody KNOW anybody looking to move out in August? Because I need to find someone to live with (what with the bottom end of housing being so expensive in Utah…) and right now I’m a bit effed. Keep your ears open. Thanks.

*       *       *

I had forgotten about the spicy cheetos thing. I would never eat those now. Good times.

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June 1, 2012

¡Hola de España! no. 4‏

New to this? Catch up here:

¡Hola de España!

¡Hola de España! #2

¡Hola de España! no.3

*       *       *

Hola, no time for salutations. I have a lot to fill you in on and so little time so it’ll be brief and (sorry Mike) probably not very funny.

-San Sebastian was great. There was cuddling and topless sunbathing and hamburgers, though not in that order. Except I did get my shoes dirty and broke my mom’s camera. (Hi, mommy! 🙂 You can have mine now, no worries). Oh, but everyone wanted to talk to us in English, and I will not look on the bright side of this (Kevin): I don’t think they wanted to help, I think they doubted my mad-sweet Spanish-talkin’ abilities.

-Laura from Madrid came to visit in Oviedo and we walked all the way out of town to go to a carnival/concert/party, which was great, but then we only had two hours of sleep before that day’s excursion, which was canoeing down a river. Laura was Team Resaca (“hangover”) with Dashiel and I was team Aviator with Kevin, but then later we were Team Turn-Around. The twins were Team Desnuda (“naked”). It was fun, and I totally didn’t even feel like throwing up from my resaca at all…once we got into the water.

-The program ended, and I definitely didn’t even get to go to that, because I had the worst resaca of all time, except that Fernando says it was probably an actual illness made worse by drinking the night before. So we’ll go with that. Like, I couldn’t even keep down water. And so then I missed the last day of school, which means I missed getting my diploma and missed the goodbye fiesta, and I missed saying goodbye to everyone and all of my teachers, and of course it was a really lovely day so I missed one last chance of playing violin on the street. Oh, and I won an award/scholarship for making the most of my time in Spain for learning purposes. Sweet, eh? Except I missed receiving it. I AM BATHING IN REGRET AND DESPAIR RIGHT NOW, AND THIS ISN’T ME BEING DRAMATIC, THIS IS LITERALLY HOW I FEEL!

-Oh, yeah, so I played violin in the streets 4 times and averaged about 30 euro/hour which is $50/hour, which is AWESOME. In total I made over 100 euro and I’m so American for telling you about the money I made. Or jewish. Or both. Also I recorded a song in a studio with a Spanish band, for which I was handsomely paid. Yeah, who’s doing these things? Because it doesn’t feel like me doing these things. I guess it’s like how last summer I built confidence through sports, except now it’s through music.

-Then I survived the Resaca of Death just enough to take a midnight-thirty bus to Madrid to meet Laura. That was last Saturday. So now I’m in Madrid, and crazy things have happened here, and here’s what they are:   

~Laura and I went shopping, because in July all of Europe goes on sale, and I mean that literally. It’s called “Rebajas” and seriously EVERY store has a sign in the window about it and everything is, like, half off, and I’m not sure why. People shop like animals. It was great.   

~MADRID WON THE EURO-CUP!!! And I watched it from Plaza de Colón, IN Madrid, and it was nuts, and Laura and I almost got stampeded to death when I fight broke out and this guy got a huge glass bottle smashed over his head and there was blood and panic and that was only, like, 15 minutes into the game. But then we moved, and then WE WON!!!!!!!!!!!!! And then all of Madrid partied all night, and we got a ride home from these guys we met and it was the scariest car-ride of my life and I had to keep thinking of new ways (in Spanish) to beg the driver to slow down. (Kevin: at one point I told him that I had ganas to live to see tomorrow)   

~Also we met these two guys who go to frickin’ CAMBRIDGE and one is Irish and one is from Madrid and they’re cool, and we met them on the bus and then ran into them after the game, which was like, a one-in-a-zillion-trillion odds type of thing. That was a lucky night, actually, because we made friends with the scary drivers, who just happen to live in the same suburb as Laura, and we ran into our bus friends, and Spain WON, and we linked up with Dashiel and Dylan, and I found 20 euro in the street, which gave me enough money to call my bank and tell them to unlock my card (AGAIN. THOSE BITCHES. I HAD TO BE LIKE “SORRY TO BOTHER YOU AGAIN, BUT I’M STRANDED IN A FOREIGN COUNTRY WITH NO MONEY, AND THAT MIGHT BE YOUR FAULT. THREE TIMES.”)   

~And the Irish guy’s name is Michael, and I’m going to Alicante with him, because his family has a house there and I can stay for free. Huzzah!

The end for now. I miss you all. I hope you’re having a horrible time without me.

-love, Sarah

p.s. Also, Mike sent me a package that contained: a koosh ball, a politically correct deck of cards for “war,” a Tiger Beat magazine, and a Guns-n-Ammo magazine. So he’s my new most favorite.  

*      *      *

I would totally not say that thing about talking about money because I’m American and Jewish if I wrote this today. Also I notice that I was a lot more exhuberant back then. Ah, youth. Stay tuned for more!

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