Monday, August 28, 2006
Splashing in Puddles
As she walked off the bus, the new song from the choir still in her head, she reflected on what she'd done.
Oh, she WAS mighty proud of it, and screw her absolute good girl image, it HAD to be marred SOMETIME!
Mmhmm, people, we're talking BIG here.....!
She wrote on the BATHROOM WALL!!
*tumbleweed* *crickets*
What?! IT WAS THE MOST REBELLIOUS THING SHE'D EVER DONE!
She recited the words to herself....next to a badly spelt love declaration, she'd written, in black felt, "Lucky you...mine still has no idea that when he laughs, the vital pump that keeps me alive....momentarily forgets its function."
She'd thought it was quite eloquent, especially next to "i LuV mY bOi".
While contemplating the mysteries of her complicated non-love life, she was distracted for a moment: a couple of kids splashing in puddles, on their way home.
While "haha, dumb kids" crept to her throat, something odd happened.
She was smiling.
And here's the weirdest part: It was completely unintentional.
She hadn't even realized she'd been smiling.
And it struck her: How long had it been since she'd caught herself just...enjoying? How long had it been since the glimmer of a smile, like a gold coin in the sand, had lit her face that had not been advertant and even more so, artfully placed?
She realized that it had been far too long. She also realized that she had allowed something as beautiful and pure as a smile to become a thing of falsity. How she was able to conjure one up, orchestrate one, forcing someone to think something or feel something or even say something that had been unprecendented.
She decided, right then, to allow these precious gifts to come naturally. To not smile at people as if it were protocol, but rather because the sight of a familiar, friendly face brought joy. To not laugh at jokes because it would appear foolish not to, but because they stirred within her heart an uproarious mirth.
And then she decided to come home and blog about it, just in case someone who needed to remember how to laugh, happened to chance across it.
Oh, she WAS mighty proud of it, and screw her absolute good girl image, it HAD to be marred SOMETIME!
Mmhmm, people, we're talking BIG here.....!
She wrote on the BATHROOM WALL!!
*tumbleweed* *crickets*
What?! IT WAS THE MOST REBELLIOUS THING SHE'D EVER DONE!
She recited the words to herself....next to a badly spelt love declaration, she'd written, in black felt, "Lucky you...mine still has no idea that when he laughs, the vital pump that keeps me alive....momentarily forgets its function."
She'd thought it was quite eloquent, especially next to "i LuV mY bOi".
While contemplating the mysteries of her complicated non-love life, she was distracted for a moment: a couple of kids splashing in puddles, on their way home.
While "haha, dumb kids" crept to her throat, something odd happened.
She was smiling.
And here's the weirdest part: It was completely unintentional.
She hadn't even realized she'd been smiling.
And it struck her: How long had it been since she'd caught herself just...enjoying? How long had it been since the glimmer of a smile, like a gold coin in the sand, had lit her face that had not been advertant and even more so, artfully placed?
She realized that it had been far too long. She also realized that she had allowed something as beautiful and pure as a smile to become a thing of falsity. How she was able to conjure one up, orchestrate one, forcing someone to think something or feel something or even say something that had been unprecendented.
She decided, right then, to allow these precious gifts to come naturally. To not smile at people as if it were protocol, but rather because the sight of a familiar, friendly face brought joy. To not laugh at jokes because it would appear foolish not to, but because they stirred within her heart an uproarious mirth.
And then she decided to come home and blog about it, just in case someone who needed to remember how to laugh, happened to chance across it.
Monday, August 21, 2006
And You Asked If I've Changed!
Friend: "So how was your weekend? Heard ya went to Sydney, how was it?
OLD SANA: (What I would have normally said).
You know what's amazing? That there can be so many absolutely unique ways people can impact you in TWO DAYS. My first impression of Sydneysiders, though, was horrible. It's like, darling....come on. Unglue your hand from the horn and roll that finger down; it's not going to make you a bigboy, it's not going to make your wife love you, and it's not going to make your son straight again.
And to random Asian cabbie who can't HELP but scream, "ESS HO! FAK, FAK!!!" Jackface. Knowing the F word doesn't make you fluent in English, and you being in a hurry to nowhere makes you no more worthy to be on the streets.
But then was the lovely man in the middle of the road who heard us wondering where the hell Myer was, then carefully stepped up beside us and started explaining where to go. And the nice man at the Crepe place who moved over and gave us his table because we were making a huge unintentional, good ol Indian fuss :)
Then was the lovely old lady at the antique shop who let us in after closing hours, to let me just gaze at that beautiful antique locket. Have I...GOD, I HAVEN'T TOLD YOU ABOUT IT?! Oh, wow....it's this beautiful gold locket with hand engraving, perfectly done on both sides with different patterns.....with glass inserts pristine and uncracked, all of it absolutely perfect with no blemishes from something as old as the 1800s. A complete blue enamel stripe, with further engraving on both sides....beautiful. I gazed longingly at this perfectly made piece of craftsmanship over two weeks, put off only by the price tag. Depressed, we left the store on Saturday afternoon after learning that she'd be closed on Sunday. Damnit. No more gawking.
It was then that the sheer beauty and generosity of the human spirit struck me yet again, when my own sisters pulled out their credit cards and told me to shut up, they were getting it for me. Hands down, the nicest thing ANYONE'S ever done for me. I mean, seriously.....supposedly, they'd been planning buying it for me since two weeks ago. I love my sisters so much.....watching them go is going to hurt.
I also got a pretty basic black dress and new shoes :) THE SHOES LOOK LIKE COTTON CANDY!
Anyway....JUST when you think the weekend can't possibly get any better, it does :) We decide, against my better judgement, to go under the chop of the merciless hairdresser. Seriously. Hairdressers HATE HATE HATE my hair, or at least the way they've treated it up til this time. Now THIS CHICK.....I think she might be my new Favourite Aussie Person. THANKS TO HER, and her alone, I now have the most ABSOSPIFFINGLY FLYEST FRO in all of Australia. Jester noticed, why else think you that I'm so thrilled? :) As soon as we were done, I said I loved it, and she says, "Of course, I'm a good hairdresser!!
I love this chick. She has the confidence of ME! And she voiced the opinion that some guy who was being a jack in the store should go screw himself :) I LOVE THIS CHICK!!!!!!!
Soooooooo that was my weekend. How was yours? I know, I know, mine RULED....but hey, it was my first great one in AGES. I loved it, and I don't think I've been so happy in a long time.
NEW SANA: (What I actually said).
Great!!! Got a haircut and some shoes! Yours?
OLD SANA: (What I would have normally said).
You know what's amazing? That there can be so many absolutely unique ways people can impact you in TWO DAYS. My first impression of Sydneysiders, though, was horrible. It's like, darling....come on. Unglue your hand from the horn and roll that finger down; it's not going to make you a bigboy, it's not going to make your wife love you, and it's not going to make your son straight again.
And to random Asian cabbie who can't HELP but scream, "ESS HO! FAK, FAK!!!" Jackface. Knowing the F word doesn't make you fluent in English, and you being in a hurry to nowhere makes you no more worthy to be on the streets.
But then was the lovely man in the middle of the road who heard us wondering where the hell Myer was, then carefully stepped up beside us and started explaining where to go. And the nice man at the Crepe place who moved over and gave us his table because we were making a huge unintentional, good ol Indian fuss :)
Then was the lovely old lady at the antique shop who let us in after closing hours, to let me just gaze at that beautiful antique locket. Have I...GOD, I HAVEN'T TOLD YOU ABOUT IT?! Oh, wow....it's this beautiful gold locket with hand engraving, perfectly done on both sides with different patterns.....with glass inserts pristine and uncracked, all of it absolutely perfect with no blemishes from something as old as the 1800s. A complete blue enamel stripe, with further engraving on both sides....beautiful. I gazed longingly at this perfectly made piece of craftsmanship over two weeks, put off only by the price tag. Depressed, we left the store on Saturday afternoon after learning that she'd be closed on Sunday. Damnit. No more gawking.
It was then that the sheer beauty and generosity of the human spirit struck me yet again, when my own sisters pulled out their credit cards and told me to shut up, they were getting it for me. Hands down, the nicest thing ANYONE'S ever done for me. I mean, seriously.....supposedly, they'd been planning buying it for me since two weeks ago. I love my sisters so much.....watching them go is going to hurt.
I also got a pretty basic black dress and new shoes :) THE SHOES LOOK LIKE COTTON CANDY!
Anyway....JUST when you think the weekend can't possibly get any better, it does :) We decide, against my better judgement, to go under the chop of the merciless hairdresser. Seriously. Hairdressers HATE HATE HATE my hair, or at least the way they've treated it up til this time. Now THIS CHICK.....I think she might be my new Favourite Aussie Person. THANKS TO HER, and her alone, I now have the most ABSOSPIFFINGLY FLYEST FRO in all of Australia. Jester noticed, why else think you that I'm so thrilled? :) As soon as we were done, I said I loved it, and she says, "Of course, I'm a good hairdresser!!
I love this chick. She has the confidence of ME! And she voiced the opinion that some guy who was being a jack in the store should go screw himself :) I LOVE THIS CHICK!!!!!!!
Soooooooo that was my weekend. How was yours? I know, I know, mine RULED....but hey, it was my first great one in AGES. I loved it, and I don't think I've been so happy in a long time.
NEW SANA: (What I actually said).
Great!!! Got a haircut and some shoes! Yours?
Thursday, August 10, 2006
One Thing I Will NEVER Understand...
Is the sheer number of them.
Of beautiful, brilliant females who look in the mirror and cringe.
Who hate what they see.
Who despise the shape of their bodies, the cut of their hair, the size of their lips.
It's not as disgusting as it is just plain sad.
I am not a feministic cow.
But I do firmly believe we are targets of the media and our emotions are played with. It's sad that such a powerful force, womankind, should be so easily manipulable because all of us, without fail, have such poor self esteem. All of us have felt bitter, and unhappy about our personal image, and if you're a girl and haven't, you're either some super brand of alpha female....
Or you're a dirty liar.
Why is it that we allow so much to influence the way we feel about ourselves? I mean, we all speak of and stand for not allowing anyone to tell us what to think, yet an we constantly do just that.
Don't believe me?
"I'm so happy with my curves". No, sweetie, NO. Guys don't dig fat girls!
"Lost all that weight, guys, this is great!" Oh, come on, girlfriend, sticks are hideous. CURVES ARE ALL THE RAGE!
And likewise, curly-haired girls get told straight hair gets the guys, straight haired girls clamour for curls because they get told the exact opposite.
I guess the reason I find it so frustrating is because I've seen such wonderful examples of the the female race completely hate themselves....and heck, I've hated the way I look too.
We all just have to remember that we'll never actually be happy with the way we look unless we realize that somewhere, out there, SOMEONE thinks we're absolutely beautiful. Beauty may not be entirely in the eye of the beholder, some people will ALWAYS be prettier than others, and other people will always be prettier than them.
I think you're absolutely beautiful.
Of beautiful, brilliant females who look in the mirror and cringe.
Who hate what they see.
Who despise the shape of their bodies, the cut of their hair, the size of their lips.
It's not as disgusting as it is just plain sad.
I am not a feministic cow.
But I do firmly believe we are targets of the media and our emotions are played with. It's sad that such a powerful force, womankind, should be so easily manipulable because all of us, without fail, have such poor self esteem. All of us have felt bitter, and unhappy about our personal image, and if you're a girl and haven't, you're either some super brand of alpha female....
Or you're a dirty liar.
Why is it that we allow so much to influence the way we feel about ourselves? I mean, we all speak of and stand for not allowing anyone to tell us what to think, yet an we constantly do just that.
Don't believe me?
"I'm so happy with my curves". No, sweetie, NO. Guys don't dig fat girls!
"Lost all that weight, guys, this is great!" Oh, come on, girlfriend, sticks are hideous. CURVES ARE ALL THE RAGE!
And likewise, curly-haired girls get told straight hair gets the guys, straight haired girls clamour for curls because they get told the exact opposite.
I guess the reason I find it so frustrating is because I've seen such wonderful examples of the the female race completely hate themselves....and heck, I've hated the way I look too.
We all just have to remember that we'll never actually be happy with the way we look unless we realize that somewhere, out there, SOMEONE thinks we're absolutely beautiful. Beauty may not be entirely in the eye of the beholder, some people will ALWAYS be prettier than others, and other people will always be prettier than them.
I think you're absolutely beautiful.