My Family Wins

No. Really. They do.

Let me explain why they win. I've been applying to jobs all over the country and my back-up plan has been returning to where I grew up in Southern California before we moved to Utah. My grandparents, some aunts and uncles and cousins, and very good friends still live in the same vicinity. While I've been hoping to get a good paying job and decided that I would move where I needed to move, I wasn't exactly excited about the prospect of having to start all over again - new friends, new church, new stores (it's so effing difficult to find items in new stores), new roads, etc., but no family. All the places I've been applying to will be far away and I'd most likely only get to see my family members once or twice a year. For some families, that's totally fine and perhaps even the preferred/necessary M.O. But, that's not my family: that's not me.

The more I thought about my back-up plan, the more I wanted it to be my real plan, even though there are very few positions open for faculty in SoCal right now. For my academically minded head, choosing to go there is irresponsible. What a waste, right? I've spent two years, thousands of dollars, and countless tears to put myself in the position to be a faculty member, not adjunct, not part-time, but full-time. This is what academia expects of me and this, without my realizing it, is the philosophy I've adopted for myself.

After two big conversations, Rae and Cynthia - thank you, I realized I needed to prioritize MY needs and after figuring them out, no one is going to convince me differently... except for that day I know will come in the future when my needs will actually change.

Many people will say I should use this time to pay off my student loans and get myself into a good school so I can get into a good Ph.D. program so I can be a good professor one day. Others will say I should be more independent or adventurous or less scared. And that's okay. They can say those things.

But I'll say, "This is what I'm choosing and it's making me happy." One day I will get into a good Ph.D. program and become a kick-ass professor. One day, my student loans will be paid off. Right now, my adventure is for once, listening to my heart and not my head. My adventure is returning to a place I said I'd never live again and finding peace in that decision. My adventure is trading probably monetary security for the likelihood of less money and being okay with that decision.

And this is why my family is awesome:

I called my mom last night and instead of talking me out of it, because she's one of the very rational voices in my head when I'm emotional, she said she knew I was making the right decision for myself.

I called my dad this morning. He said, "Follow your heart. You'll be successful wherever you go. If this is what your heart is telling you, it's right."

I told a couple of my cousins my plan and I immediately had two offerings for housing and genuine excitement at my return. They said they'd look for jobs and pray for me.

And this is why my family wins. We're a family that no matter what the circumstances are always there for each other. A laugh, some food, a good cry, or emotional support in the face of a life changing decision. I know not everyone is as lucky as me.

My decision to go to SoCal didn't even take 24 hours to be affirmed as a right decision because my family is kick-ass. I'm so thankful that my heart told me quality of life.

Dirty Laundry

Okay. I try not to air out too much dirty laundry in the way of my romantic relationships in the public arena. While there are many reasons for this, I feel that my reasoning for this is two-fold. One. If things are going well, I'm afraid I'll eventually have to eat my gloaty-shorts when things go the way of the proverbial creek. Two. If things are non-euphoric, I don't want to be passive aggressive or tacky by complaining about every little thing. (Out of many personality traits, the passive aggressive trait has the ability to annoy me like Billy Mays - RIP -, large crowds of loud, trashy people and unattended, whaling children at the Wal-Mart, and the emission of strange odors.) Anyways, since life has been pretty slow as of late and I'm seriously at a loss about what the mature and grown-up thing is to do, I'm airing out some unmentionables tonight.

About a month ago I ended a relationship because we wanted very different things from a relationship and from life. It was headed down the tube either way, but I tapped out first. (Admittedly, it was empowering to do so ;).) The end wasn't messy; very simple in fact - only a few awkward and WTF? parts.

Most of the ties have been cut. I'm no longer friends with his sisters on Facebook and he unfriended me on Netflix (Dear Techonology, Thanks for making breaking up more complicated. Love, Slarue). There's just this matter of a book (my favorite kid's book) and an iPod adapter that I lent him and whose possession my possessions are still in. About a week ago, he e-mailed me and asked me how I would like the items returned to me. I asked him to mail them to my house in Utah. He said, well... I think I'd rather give them to any of your friends in Flag.

I didn't immediately return a response. A. I was in Cali (thanks, Rae. I had such an awesome time!). B. I got a new puppy who's wearing the ever-living out of me. C. My extended family is up for the 4th and we've been doing nothing but running around and playing. D. I didn't want to have to re-hash the feelings and thoughts that brought me to the decision to end the relationship in the first place since this is a perfect example of our dynamic. I.E. He thinks I'm needy because I need him to mail the books to me and I think he's selfish for not going to the post office and sending a package media mail. (This would make much more sense if I'd done more blogging in the past.)

Anyways, yes, I should have responded, but alas, I took the easy way out and ignored the problem and simultaneously huffed that the Post Office isn't that far out of the way.

Then another e-mail today (direct quote): "Hope you were not to attached to the things you lent to me =) LOL."

And here is where my problem is. I neither gave permission for my things to be kept, for them to be thrown away, nor did I say they could be given back to me via any other route. Really, I'm not TOO attached because they are just things and I can get them again, but, they are mine. It doesn't really matter if they're given to a friend in Flag other than they become somebody else's responsibility when those things are his responsibility. But, he asked how I wanted them returned to me and I gave a very reasonable option about how I would like and want them returned. It's not like I'm asking for a mailed copy of Bhutan: A Visual Odyssey Across the Last Himalayan Kingdom or for a courier service to deliver a briefcase. It's media mail. Seriously. Two dollars.

And here is where I would like your input, dear reader. What would your response be? Is asking for mail unreasonable when I have friends the book could be given to? Perhaps I should stop letting someone else determine my moods and move onto more productive thoughts like how to train Sassafrass or losing that extra fluff or finding a job after I graduate. Hmmmmm...

This may be the most mundane post ever, but really, it's the culmination of frustration that I'm trying to get past... and really, have done so. It's just reminding me that it was there in the first place. Bleh.

Breast Cancer Capitolism

As most of you good citizens know, October is Breast Cancer Awareness month - yes the month of pink ribbons, pink bracelets, and sometimes, pink t-shirts. Now, as a disclaimer for what follows, I in no way mean to disrespect cancer victims, survivors, or research, nor do I mean to implicate my criticisms in conjunction with the loss or heartache someone experiences when they, or a loved one, deals with cancer. However, this month, I am upset, irritated, and tired of seeing pink whenever I walk into Target.

Let me start from the beginning. My family has a long history of cancer. Two of my uncles have died from skin cancer and numerous other family members, including my mom and grandpa, have dealt with benign to malignant types of cancer. Cancer has been a big part of my life, and it is something that I worry about anytime one of us gets a terrible sunburn.

A few weeks ago, an officemate, whom I love and adore, brought a pink Breast Cancer awareness oven timer to work. My other officemate and I remarked on how neat it was, and remembered that it was time to kick off our own cancer awareness. (The oven timer was eventually going to be used in class for timing activities.) 

When I went to Target later that same day, I was struck by the vastness of Target's Breast Cancer awareness, even though it was only late September. There were pink brooms and cleaning supplies, pink pots and oven mitts, pink purses, totes, and manicure sets, pink egg beaters, even pink Brita water filters.

This is when my agitation surfaced. Now. I am all for cancer research and raising money, and if this is the only research can get funds, then so be it. But the fine makers of the Brita water filter are most likely not concerned with how many women OR men are helped with their oh-so-altruistic efforts, they are most likely concerned with how many people are paying $24.99 for  a Brita water filter... and the profits reaped therein. Are we really to the point in this country that we believe a company marketing a pink broom really cares about research, or do we understand that a company has decided to tap into a very lucrative market?

I am infuriated to think that just because something pink appears on shelves in October we should buy it because we are "socially aware." (I am equally irritated at the marginalization of all things "going green" because it's good business.)

I will conceit, though, that some of these companies must have a good motive because I know there are many, many good people in the world, but when was the last time a ginormous corporation cared about one person, let alone a minority of people suffering from a disease. Doesn't the recent $700 billion dollar bailout speak volumes about the actual concerns of fat cats?

And let me get back to this broom business, because like hell I'm done ranting. A quick search on Target.com for "breast cancer" yielded 115 results. After the fifth page of results, I ran across what I would define as five - 5 - "male gendered" products, including pink gardening shears, a pink tool set, and a Madden Football game with pink packaging compared to the 15 other results per page dealing with womanly products. How does a "Fox Run Breast Cancer Awareness Baking Set" for $14.99 help people become aware of the fact that breast cancer is an unyielding beast?! Why are most of the products geared towards stereotypical, archaic women's roles? Men have mothers, sisters, girlfriends, and women in their lives. Can they not be aware? Why do we even have to have pink as the color? Because only girls like pink? Men can get breast cancer. Should they have to identify with a pink ribbon? On that note, why don't we have a Testicular Cancer awareness month? Cancer is not indicative to the female species. Bah!

What I'm really getting at here is that consumers should not feel morally obligated to buy pink products in October OR feel P.C. because they have done so. If people want to contribute to cancer awareness, why not do so directly on web-sites and bypass companies whose main goal is more money in already bulging pockets?

Are we more worried with having a pink broom so that when neighbors come over they see we are "aware," or are we worried about the disease? (I ask myself this question because I really, really wanted the pink pots.) I think that most of us consumers really want to help with cancer research and this may be the only way we know how; these are just recent thoughts on motives for doing so. If you are the person who purchases pink products because you are a good person and know you ARE helping someone, please continue to do so because the world really needs people like you, especially right now.

Any thoughts on this are more than welcome. I would love some feedback... because, really, I could be wrong.

Who's Long Tim?

Well, I've been gone for a while; it's true, check the dates. The past month or so, I haven't been able to articulate my thoughts on my experiences well enough to merit a post, but I'm feelin' some clarity tonight. First, the Top Ten Things I Did Whilst in Europe:

10. Met Alan Moore

9. Rode the Tube around London

8. Saw Avenue Q - quite literally the funniest musical EVER!

7. Stumbled upon my first Da Vinci painting

6. Got my very own hotel room in Paris three blocks from Notre Dame

5. Tried every new food I possibly could

4. Found out about standardized health care

3. Learned that taking days for myself and sightseeing without anyone else is a great thing to do

2. Went to Evensong at Westminster Abbey

1. I freaking went to Europe, and that is awesome!

Second. I live in Flagstaff now. Crazy, right? Oh, nay nay. Crazy, my friend, is having keys to my office and having a weekly schedule that includes teaching English 1050 Monday through Thursday at 10:20 in Room 216. Crazy is paying $600 dollars a semester for my Master's degree.

The point is, I love being here. I'm totally out of my comfort zone, but I have found my people who do not take the place of my other people, but help me to deal with living in a new state. I'm in the right spot in my life - geographically, chronologically, emotionally, intellectually, and academically - but that's not saying I won't continue to try to improve.

The one thing, dear analytical reader, that is missing from my list is spirituality. This past year has been a difficult for my membership in the church, but I haven't ever doubted that my membership is right and a good thing; I've just had questions, and frankly, I've gotten lazy.

I've come to the realization, once again, that life is totally about balance and I've let certain aspects of my life get out balance, most of which has been my connection with God and spirituality. I was trying to distance myself from the things I don't like about going to church or interacting with members of the church, and I began to turn my back on God.

But, my relationship with God, Jesus Christ, and the Spirit, and my membership in the church has nothing to do with nuisances of church culture or other members. I've learned, through many sources, that I must be Sarah La Rue and that my religious affiliations are through The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, that my intellectual pursuits help me understand the world and humanity better and more compassionately, that I am an English teacher who loves comic books, Batman, and graphic novels, that I am, always have been, and always been an intellectual and a feminist, and that how I must live is through a balanced existence of all that I am.

Comparatively Speaking

So. I have this little problem where I compare myself to other people....a lot of the time. I concern myself with such thoughts as, "Am I as good of writer as he is?....well, why am I not then?" or "Am I prettier or uglier than her?" and, "Am I better girlfriend than she was?" Seriously speaking, five to ten of these thoughts run through my head on a daily basis. This, in actuality, could be better or worse than what I think, but I honestly don't care to know right now.

I think that this system/code has also existed within me - I'm pretty competitive. I've always been a bit concerned with being just a little better - the better teacher, the more trusted, funnier friend, the better speaker, the more well-liked, better-in-general person.

This thought process gets me nowhere.....fast.

What this thought process is actually doing to me as a person is making me digress in my quest to become a more balanced individual. In effect, worrying about being the "better person" is not making me a better person. It's making me more cynical, more degrading of others, more judgemental. This drive, this need to be better is causing me more pain than it is bringing me confidence.

People can't be set up in a Structuralist manner. The worth of a person's soul, life, and abilities cannot be summed up in two columns for binary scrutiny. The worth of a soul is embedded much deeper than these theories allow for - the route to humanity lies in a person's own standing.

I had a dear friend point out to me that I'll never write like Sharon Olds writes. I will never sing like Etta James sang. I'll never lead a life like Gandhi lead a life. I'll write like Sarah La Rue writes, and I'll sing like her too. I cannot find the worth of myself in other people: I must find it within myself because no one is going to live a life like I'm going to live a life.

RationalLies

To rationalize is to tell ourselves rational lies so that we believe them.

I sometimes have epiphanies in the shower. An odd place, I know, but they come whilst I scrub various appendages nonetheless. A long while ago, I was pondering the idea of being someone who I'd previously been with. He was/is a good man; I wouldn't been with him otherwise, but as much as I loved him and yearned to be with him again, something held me back time and time again. And then it came, amidst the rinse, lather, and repeat stage of my shower, a small, yet powerful voice that said simply, "No."

Instead of listening, I ignored and rationalized. He's a good man. He makes me happy. His mouth is incredible. He's the only one who wants me... My mind continued to race for a few days: luckily, I did not act on anything, especially mine own wants. After a few more rationalizations and a few showers where I committed to not think, I lapsed into the scent of my Zest - that's when it came. I thought about what my life, marriage, children - the whole enchilada - what it would all be like with him. Do not marry him. He WILL sexually abuse your children.

I couldn't believe my mind. I didn't want to believe the voice, but deep down, I knew it was true. Marrying this man would lead to a disaster of eternal proportions. I refused to listen for weeks again. I knew this man, this man that I loved, couldn't possibly be capable of such a thing. I wanted what I wanted and what I wanted was him, and to no longer be alone.

All the while the voice had been saying "No" and I'd been saying "Yes." Then I took the shower that saved me. I'd rationalized so much for so long that the voice said, "Okay. Do what you want to do."

One of the most hollow feelings in the world is what followed. I, a woman of God who is supposed to follow The Spirit at all costs and at all times and in all places, had just rationalized the safety of my own children away. I was so ashamed of myself, and to a certain extent, still am, that I would put my wants over the safety of children - my children.

I do not know if this man will ever be a sexual offender. I honestly doubt that he will. I think that my experience was a lesson for me and me alone. This experience showed me what it would be like to doubt the Spirit, my intuition, and simply live by the wants of my heart, without realization of what my current actions will have upon people in the future. Rationalization to this extent will never happen again in my life - ever.

I pose these thoughts and this deeply personal experience not to show the benefits of a highly scented soap and steamy water (although I think I can speak for most when I say that this is a good thing), but to question. How often do I rationalize? How many times have I? Don't worry, those two candy bars won't make your butt jiggle anymore. Spend the money on the shoes - you've had a horrible day. Ignore your head; it's what you really want.

I'm not married. I'm not even dating anyone. But I am happier now than I have ever been. I've been given an opportunity to view what eternity might be like if I gave into every one of my desires. I will then wait; wait until I find exactly what I'm looking for until I don't have to tell myself rational lies anymore.