little sarah Big World

Tag: daily grind

If You Can’t Be With the One You Love…

…Love the One You’re With

I have a very rainbow-centric job…

…and I kinda dig it.

Truth Time: remember when I was not digging it? And not dealing well? (Here ‘s a refresher. Also here.)

And, really, I was pretty all over the place with most things. Emotionally.  Some days my jobs were okay, some days I liked my friends, some days I felt like MAYBE I’d made the right choice…but other days I was just hanging in there. Like a cat on a tree branch.

But…then I decided not to make any more plans. Because making plans was stressing me out. See, making plans meant making A DECISION, which naturally involved re-assessing all past decisions, in an effort not to eff everything up again. But it also meant trying to figure out the future, and what I might want a month or a year from now.

And I just don’t know that, Friends. I just don’t know.

*       *       *

So. No more plans. Just here. Just this. Some other quote from Rent…

Seriously, though, letting go of the past AND the future has done wonders. Guess what? My jobs are awesome. I love kids. Even when they’re little shits. Okay, especially when they’re little shits. They’re just so bad ass. Look at what my kiddos did for the storytime craft last night:

A metaphor:

You know how some times everything sucks and your friends are flaky and your family doesn’t understand you and your job is killing your soul and you don’t want to do anything and nothing is ever going to get better? But then really it turns out you just needed to eat?

I guess I just “needed to eat.”

Savor

I had to text my Eric friend the other morning to ask him, “…where did all of this self-love come from? Im enjoying it, but i also find myself asking ‘why now?’ ”

Because I don’t fully understand it, Friends. Something I’ve been striving for for so long–a sense of grace, of calm and peace and joy–is suddenly within my grasp. All I had to do was let go.

More and more I spend my time as I please, and every moment–every movement–seems delicate and sweet. Like making lists, reading in bed right when I wake up, tidying the apartment, and baking banana bread.

It was a rare slow morning, a “day off” I believe it’s called, though it’s been so long, who can remember? So I blissed out, enjoyed every aspect of it. The soft sunlight shining in through the kitchen window, circles of brown sugar and white flower. Soothing stirring and pouring motions. Listening to the Temptations and wearing a fancy apron. All of it.

And so maybe you folks will not be as into these photos as I was, but I seriously appreciated every step in the process, every angle and curve. Therefore, I documented:

I like the way everything comes together with baking. You measure, mix, and it’s like magic, the way it turns into something more than the sum of the parts. Except when its a disaster. Then I throw a tantrum. But not this day. This day I had a morning to myself, a spot of sunlight to dance in, and a delicious chocolate chip banana bread muffin.

…which I could only eat half of. So then I stopped. Just like I stopped going to CrossFit, for the time being, because I prefer running and yoga to weight training.

I think this is what they call “listening to your body and your self,” which is also a novel approach for me. Because a easy, peaceful morning can just as easily slide into a 48-hour work week, leaving me with an eye twitch and a need to seriously re-asses my priorities.

Because lately little sarah Big World Traveler would like nothing more than to settle down for a minute, commit to the plans I’ve made for right here, right now. Work less, relax more. Then maybe more mornings could be filled with baking, blogging, and self love.

As opposed to, you know, waking up at 5:30 and working until 9pm. I don’t want that anymore. I want to savor the moment.

Being a Girl

I enjoy it, that’s all.

I mean, yeah, getting my period is pretty much a torturous life-and-death experience every month, but then I just forget about it. Isn’t that why people have more than one child?

Anyways, I’ve been waiting for over a month to post this picture of my most favorite (and, well, ONLY) toiletries. It’s because I can only get the Rose Petal Witch Hazel from Whole Foods, and goodness knows I don’t go there but twice a year.

Sometimes I’m prone to daintiness, friends. To beautification rituals and tonics and powders and creams.

I kinda dig it.

…and now…

I guess now is the time where I once again apologize for slacking as a blogstress and promise to post not only new stuff but all the retro-acties that I’ve long been promising. It’s just that time of year, Friends. It comes ’round more often than Daylight Savings Time.

WHICH, by the way, is the most ridiculous SLASH the best ever word-of-mouth campaign. I mean, have you ever, in your lifetime, been forewarned of the impending Spring Forward or Fall Back by any manner OTHER THAN word of mouth? I always seem to just hear about it the night before. Every year. Twice a year. For life.

Ridiculous, is what it is.

Almost as ridiculous as my SEEMINGLY EMPTY PROMISES. However, in keeping with the theme of Zany Time Antics AND in an effort to make a post, no matter how trivial and last-minute AND to relieve myself of the burden of random old emails filling up my inbox…here’s some pictures from, like, two years ago:

 

Ah, bebbes. Gotta love ’em.

And here‘s a DST-related post, from even longer ago! The past, Friends!

What You Missed at the LEO Party:

A Sarah Custen Guilt Trip

Let me just start off by saying that I don’t even understand why people pass up the chance to gather, eat, drink, and be merry. I do not accept excuses of upcoming tests, family obligations, or illness. I demand that good times be had by all, whenever the opportunity presents itself.

I am a highly-biased reporter, is what I’m trying to say.

So for those of you who simply could not make it to the wonderful and magical and cooperative LEO Holiday Party, here’s what went down.

There was food. Delicious food. I personally enjoyed two different types of ham, some sort of marinated tofu magic, corn-n-veggie salad, and roasted cauliflower. Also rice. But that was so much more! So many epicurean delights! I ask you: why would anyone pass that up?

There were desserts, plural. Myriad, really. Maybe you feel like this doesn’t apply to you, because you are lactose intolerant, or celiac, but did you count on…

…dairy-free, gluten-free strawberry-coconut cupcakes?!?!? Because those were there. I know, because I brought them. And did we enjoy these treats in isolation? Did we stuff our faces and then run home to our DVRs? No we did not!

We socialized! Oh, man, we socialized so hard…it was CRAZY.

Also Whitney Houston played. RIP, Whitney.

Also there was booze, and afterwards, there was more booze, at the Red Door. That’s what we call an after-party.

Then after that I left to go out dancing. Lately I have a need to dance bordering on clinical.

ALMOST AS GREAT AS MY NEED TO SEE ALL MY COWORKERS’ LOVELY, SHINING FACES AT THE LEO PARTY. And you wouldn’t want to deprive a girl of camaraderie, would you? THAT’S WHAT I THOUGHT.

See you next year!

Some Days

Some days you just can’t win. Some days people expect more of you than you’re willing or able to give, and it is only 9:20 am. Some days you have more things to do than time in which to do them, and it is snowing, and you ride a bike, and you know that nothing is going to be easy or convenient or efficient.

Some days you have to boil potatoes before 10am, just to stay on top of things. (But the steam on the stove makes the kitchen warm and fuzzy).

Some days you know that you are going to get a talking to, and it will not be pretty. You know that you have to tell the truth to some friends, and that it will not be any prettier.

Some days you cry (sob, really) in the bathroom at work for a solid 15 minutes. You pace the halls and take deep breaths, and you are not proud of yourself, but you love yourself and so you say “It’s okay.”

Some days you return to work with eyes so red and swollen that there is no denying what you’ve done, yet nobody says a thing. And that is somehow worse than whatever you’d dreaded them saying.

Some days you roast potatoes, with garlic and rosemary. 

It’s your own recipe, and you use a fancy tip from Cooks’ Illustrated, and they turn out just right.

And you know that, when you get off of work, you will turn those potatoes into potato salad. You will pack up that potato salad, along with some mustard, vegan bratwurst, and beer, and you will go watch Newsies and have a meat-n-potatoes dinner with your girlfriends.

At least that much you can do right. And some days that’s the best you can do.

*       *       *

Rosemary Roasted Potatoes

-Preheat your oven to 450 degrees Fahrenheit

-Cut some red potatoes up into little cubes. I used 5 medium potatoes, with the intention of feeding about 5-7 people (as a side dish). Leave the skins on for maximum nutrition.

-Boil a big pot of water, then add cut up potatoes to the boiling water PLUS a bit of baking soda. Say…1/2 a teaspoon for lots of potatoes, but only 1/4 of a teaspoon for not so many potatoes.

-Boil for 3 minutes. Then drain. Then let those hot little spuds cool off.

-Toss your potatoes in some olive oil, a bit of salt, and crushed or chopped garlic.

-Spread the whole mess out on a cookie sheet, sprinkle with more salt, some pepper, and rosemary sprigs (fresh or not, whatevs).

-Bake/roast for 20 minutes or so, until they are golden brown and crispy in parts and a fork slides easily in. BONUS: you can add some lemon juice for the last 5 minutes of roasting for extra amazingness.

-ENJOY! Try them in a salad with mixed greens, dried cranberries, sunflower seeds, and tuna. Or not.

Scenes from a Coffee Shop

 

 

 

 

Early mornings, watching the city wake up with the sun outside and the busying street. Hot, black coffee. Regulars, like Art, who always gets a glass mug, a palmier, a refill, and tips at the end.

Chatting with the bakers, filling orders, grinding beans. Coffee dust everywhere, perfuming my hair and clothes for hours afterwards.

The hiss and purr of steaming milks, delicate dripping filling huge pots of coffee, and light crunch of flaky pastries. Clinking plates and silverware.

*       *       *

It is not my dream job, not my life’s work, but it is a satisfying way to pass the time.

I’m a Lady

~OR~

This is How We Thursday

Oh, mans, I wasn’t even going to post tonight, DESPITE the fact that yesterday we reached a new all-time high view count of 111! (Yes, WE, Friends. We did this together!)

See, tonight is Thursday, and Thursdays I work until 9. Thursdays I eat whatever I want for dinner while watching TV. Tonight it was vegan hot wings, a side salad, and beer(s).

Hot wings courtesy of Nicole friend. Love it. Love her guts. Love Thursdays. Tell you why:

Because sometimes Life is shit, Friends. Surely I don’t even need to tell you this. You already know about Life/shit, about long-distance relationships, about working too many jobs with conflicting early and late schedules, about crying in the bathroom on your lunch break because you are so tired and walked all the way from downtown to your moms’ house and all you want to do is take a nap and eat lunch before second work, but the maid is there and you don’t want to disturb her with what you are about to do to the kitchen/fridge area. Okay, maybe that last one was mostly specific to my life.

But STILL.

Sometimes Life is shit, and it’s complicated, and you have no control (and maybe you’re a control-freak-type? I am!), and nothing is going to get solved tonight.

And is that okay, Friends? YES, that is okay! Because it is Thursday. Thursday means hot wings for dinner, and watching TV while you eat, and dancing around your apartment, and cleaning dishes, because you know that shit is gonna please you much-like in the morning, and reading a book that you can not WAIT to read, generously loaned out by a co-worker:

What’s that in the upper right-hand corner, you ask? Is that a Santigold album? IT IS. Am I going to shimmy-shimmy-shake while drinking beer and blogging?

I AM.

Thursdays.

Zines!

~OR~

The Part of My Job That I Like

I like the part of my job where I come up with ideas for zine-making workshops, write up the copy, plan out the details with my coworkers, gather supplies, set up shop, and then spend a quiet afternoon cutting, pasting, chatting, and listening to music in the sun-lit basement of a SugarHouse library.

Pretty much everything else about my job right now is driving me nuts, though. Except the part where I can work on my blog at work. Like right now.

More Zine/Graphic Novel/Alternative Press info a photos here.

Slight Discomfort

I’m not okay with “HAPPY MORNING” and “impregnated” existing in the same sentence, even at the dentist’s office. Okay, especially at the dentist’s office.