Dear Body

This one is near and dear to my heart.  The idea has been traveling around the internet so I can not take all the credit, but these words are my own.

I know that there are many men out there who suffer from physical self doubt, but this one is for all the women close and far who torture themselves with insecurities.  Who say things to themselves about their bodies that they would never ever under any circumstances say to others.  This is for the beauties that hide and hurt and cry because their bodies do not match those in the magazines, or those that they have created in their minds.  This is for my friends with whom I’ve mutually encouraged self body hatred – we are doing ourselves a disservice and I vow to stop.  Today I am making “Fat” the worst word in the world.  I know that these few words will not take away all of my insecurities.  I know that this apology will not wipe out those bad body days where I discredit everything that my body gives to me.  But it helps.  Every time a woman stands up for the healthy body she has, to herself or others, it helps.  Because my body is a wonder and I am so lucky to have it and that it works.  And because who I am, in myself, is so much more than my body.

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Dear Body,

I’m so sorry for how I’ve treated you in the past.  And for the neglect you have sometimes suffered.

I’m sorry for all of the times I have discredited you and devalued all of the amazing talents and skills you possess.
  

I’m sorry for all of the times I’ve pushed you too hard or pushed you too little.

I’m sorry for the times I have put unhealthy things into you for the very wrong reasons.

Please forgive the times I have fried your hair and your skin.

I’m sorry that I don’t let you sleep as much as you need when you need.

I apologize for the sick amts of caffeine you are forced to endure.  And the chemical sweeteners (I’m sorry too that it ain’t changing any time soon)

I’m sorry for the lack of flossing (and sometimes brushing…) and face washing…and moisturizing.

I’m sorry for depriving you of the vitamins you need and then blaming you for the resulting exhaustion.  My bad.

I’m sorry for calling you fat. 

And for all of the negative and disparaging things I have said about you and to you.

I’m so very sorry for all of the times I’ve said I hate you.  I deeply regret not loving you for all of the wonderful things you’ve given me.

I really do love you, you know.  Thanks for hanging in there with me!

Muah.

Love,

Sarah

Why finals week is the best! And other musings on no longer being a student...

What the happy non-zombie people look like...

You guys.  You know what's super awesome?

NOT BEING IN SCHOOL ANY MORE.

Ok but seriously.  I loved school.  I was the best at as a kid.  Loved it.  Conquered it.  Went to high school - was the best at that too.  And then I went to college and I struggled like crazy and then I LOVED it again.  So much in fact that I only waited 6 months and then I went back.  Because I'm masochistic like that.

After writing a thesis and nearly dying of a stress induced ulcer/heart palpitations.  And nearly killing SP and my closest friends with my panic attacks.  Along with nearly becoming a shriveled raisin of a person from crying so much.  After all of that I was done.  Like D-O-N-E.  Everybody told me:  Just wait you'll go back to school.  You'll get a phd you'll get another masters.  You're going to miss school so much you won't be able to go long at all with getting your school on.  Just wait Sarah, stay in school as long as possible, you're going to miss it it SO bad.

Well I have news for you friends.

I DON'T!!!

I love being a working shmuck.  I love not having homework.  I love not worrying about tests and quizzes and maniacal professors who like to smother me in papers and busy work.  I love not competing against my classmates!  And worrying about the curve.  And and and.

And I LOVE LOVE not having finals week.  Not studying every waking (and non-waking moment) for a test that feels like it determines your entire future.  Like you might actually just die if you don't get an A on this test.  In fact the apocalypse may start spontaneously if you don't get an A on this test. And the weight of that causes you to possibly:

A) throw up blood

B) develop a tick

C) shake and eat your own hair in a corner

D) all of the above

You guys, not having that pressure.  It's the most amazing feeling in the world.  As I watch the poor students wander zombie like around our building at work.  With stains on their shirts and their hand forever cramped from their all night scribbles and a coffee mug permanently attached to their other hand, I feel so sorry for them.  I want to stop them and tell them that in a year they aren't going to feel that panic rising up in their throats as they walk into their classroom.  They aren't going to have to schedule their lives around their homework.  They aren't going to have to buy 3x5 cards ever again, because really what else do you use those for?  I want to pat them on the back, give them a drink of water to flush out all that caffeine, and tell them that they won't always be THAT tired, that the weight of the world does not depend on their grade in their o-chem class.  That if they have to take calculus again, that their families will not disown them, and they will not fail at life.  I want to remind them that in the big scheme of things, its just one grade and one class.  

It's all going to be ok.  Just take a breath and a shower.

Yeah, I definitely don't miss that you guys.  Not even one little bit.

You guys.  Being an adult ROCKS.

Thou shalt not wear the clacky shoes.

Disclaimer: Work people reading this...this is NOT about you.  Disclaimer part 2: this is going to come off as very self absorbed, I apologize...

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I work in a building full of nerds.  In fact I'm pretty sure the collective IQ of these people is like 9 gagillion points above my.  (yes gagillion - I had to make up a word to convey to you the gravity of the situation!)

In many ways its awesome.

Some of them are insanely awkward, which makes for some really hilarious moments.  All of them are so smart I know that they can figure out any mathematical problem I may have. Probably any computer problem also.  I'm pretty sure they speak code in there sleep.  They are also, for the most part, genuinely kind.  Even if they are possibly the worst dressed people in the history of the world (I love them all so I can say this).  But really.  If I could nominate an entire building onto what not to wear...ding ding ding...

Some things are not so awesome (or at the very least quite quirky)

For one thing.  The academic type, they get pretty sucked into their insanely smart brains.  Therefore they are not so good at the hearing of the things you are saying.  Thus there is a lot of repeating.  They also are not so big on the doing of anything else when they are in the midst of an academic fit.  They like their offices dark (florescent lights are bad for academic fits apparently).  They also don't like noise of any kind.  You aren't going to hear any rocking pandora stations coming out of these people's office.  in fact you won't here anything. Even in the offices that are packed full of graduate students like sardines (when did it become ok to make graduate students live in an office with 6 of their closest friends?!).  But seriously, all they do is stare at their computers and occasionally moan (moaning helps the academia...try it some time).  The only time they look up from their macbooks is when I'm wearing the clacky shoes.  Ok look I'm no fashionista (HAHAHAHA) and generally I'm a flats wearing kind of girl because really I can't be bothered to be wearing all them fancy things to a job where I can go literally weeks without seeing another human being (I AM my office).  There ain't nobody to impress.  But on rare occasions I get out of bed and dress myself up a touch.  It is often on the 30th day of rain when I'm trying to keep myself from ramming my head into any light source (yeah seasonal affective disorder loves me like real good).  Sometimes a nice boot or heel can make a girl feel less like the sun will never come out again and that harold camping was right and the apocolypse is in fact coming tomorrow.  What I'm saying in a million words is that sometimes dressing up, it feels good. Even if nobody is going to see you.  Or that the only person who sees you is a 75 year old retired mathematician who has been wearing the same baseball cap for the past 3 years you have known him.  But oh the clacky shoes.  The academics in their fits of genius work they are SO not fans of the clacky shoes.  I feel their angry eyes being drawn away from their macbooks as I walk to the bathroom (for the 8 millionth time).  They look up in the darkness and they think, that girl and her CLACKY shoes.  And I send them silent I'm sorrys (but dang, aren't these new wedges Fab-u-lous?)

This picture looks so 70's!  Probably because thats the decade my crappy apartment carpet is from...    

So here it is, one time all inclusive, I'M SORRY ABOUT THE CLACKY SHOES ACADEMIC PEOPLE!

I love you all.  And I hope you solve the nuclear arms problem, and global warming, and find the 4th dimension.

But I'm not going to stop wearing them.

XOXO,

Clacky shoe girl

How to remove your finger prints using only paper and your own spit.

  Oh Heyyyy Paper!

Step 1: Open 5 GABILLIONITY GILLIONTY envelopes - each containing approximately a bible's worth of paper.  And those of you reading the old testament like me, you know that's pretty much a sh*t ton.  Excuse my French, but dannnng.

Step 2: Lick your fingers ever 2 pages because they are so dry you can no longer pick up anything, let alone another dang gum piece of paper

Step 3: Get a paper cut.  Lick it.  Dry your fingers out some more 

Step 4: Do this 40 trillion times a day for 10 hours straight for 2-3 weeks straight.  Repeat, repeat, repeat.

I title this one: Study in Desk Surrounded Part 1

And... Study in Desk Surrounded Part 2

It's application season for my fabulous science nerd program right about this time.  And thus begins the portion of my life where I listen to every song that exists on pandora as I sit in my office literally surrounded by students paperwork.  We are WAY over our target applications this year (somewhere around the 920 mark - multiply that by at least 3 pieces of paper and a file folder per applicant and you can see why I have no fingerprints) which means that I will probably not see the light of day for another 2.5 - 3 weeks.  I mean on Friday I forgot to pee.  Me.  The ultimate pee-er of the universe.  I got home and realized I had not peed all day.  That's how you know something is really wrong...

I did something crazy this year though, I hired myself a student worker.  Aka hired slave.  I feel cruel paying this highly intelligent woman minimum wage to open envelopes and file things.  But she needs money and I need help.  And I do listen to good pandora stations so I guess its not the worst deal in the world for her.  For me it's like winning the freakin lottery.  3 hours of help in one day was like magical fairies of joy came down from heaven and cleaned up my pig sty of an office.  I almost cried.. happy sparkle tears that is.

Happy Monday kids.  May your week go fast and your weekend last long!

Over and Out,

Fingerprintless