10 years later

This last weekend, I reluctantly made my way down South to Portland to attend my 10 year high school reunion (okay, so maybe reluctantly isn't necessarily the right word; I may or may not have complained to Katy for about 6 months prior to the event, hoping she'd tell me we didn't have to go). It wasn't that I didn't like high school; I did. I really did. I just have little tolerance for bullshit and I got in my mind that it would all be bullshit - all of these people (including me) trying to prove that we'd done something with ourselves when really no one has had enough time to do a damn thing. 10 years is not that long! However, as much as I hated to admit it (especially to Katy as she would have every right to say "I told you so"), I had a really good time.

And, so I have decided to devote this week's entry to THE 10 THINGS THAT WOULD NOT HAVE HAPPENED 10 YEARS AGO.

1. I would not have been deemed the public transportation expert on the bus and train on my way down (apparently I looked like I was seasoned in area as at least 6 people stopped me to ask questions and/or proceeded to follow me); no, that would not have happened - after all I grew up in disgustingly boring white middle class suburbia where public transportation meant a yellow school bus going to a school in the aforementioned category.

2. Taken shots and proceeded to get hammered with half the people that shared/encouraged my intoxication that night; in fact, given that I was only 18 years old and didn't start [really] drinking until I was 21, I wouldn't have done that with anyone.

3. Taken a full day to recover from an all nighter and the above said intoxication; how is it that teenagers have the phenomenal ability to sleep all day and night and yet also be able to stay up all day and night? I can no longer do either.

4. Needed to look at name tags of my classmates; proudly, Katy and I knew the names of every kid in our class on graduation day (yes we tested ourselves with a year book).

5. Been described as "fucking hot" by someone I didn't know (or at least had a hard time remembering exactly how I knew them); "you have such a pretty face" or something equally as patronizing would have been more like it.

6. Discussed "losing it" with those that I did; no, wouldn't have discussed that, because happily there was nothing to discuss on that subject back then.

7. Considered our old neighborhood so small; I swear the walk from home to the bus stop was fucking long back then (yeah, it was 3 houses away).

8. Missed my parents so, so badly; I was always close to them growing up (and in ways still am), but I would never have imagined driving by our old house and yearning to walk through that door, see and hug them so tightly.

9. Been so excited to see a friend's new baby; while I'm not totally sure even now that I want a baby at some point in my life, back then I had my mind up that I was not a baby person and motherhood would never be for me.

10. Thought I'd be this comfortable, happy, and proud of who I am and what I've become.

There are one or two other things that wouldn't have happened that did on this momentous timeline marker, but I will leave it at this and give you an update in 10 more years.

5 Things: Boob Week, Spider Kisses, Mosquito Birth Control, and Jumping Ship

1. Ladies! Its time to celebrate your boobs. No, I'm not referring to the mashup of topless hos and jello shots at SeaFair this last weekend. Its World Breast Feeding Week. Yep, I'm serious. I know that as an employee of a leading global health organization where maternal and child health and nutrition is at the forefront of our mission I should be way more enthusiastic about this; but, I just can't. Now, now, to any of my MCHN colleagues who have stumbled upon this and might be reading, I understand the importance; I do, I really do. You don't have to explain to me the nutritional value of breast milk, the important role it plays in connecting a mother and child instantly, or even the recent connection to reducing the risk of post-partum hemorrhaging in mothers. And, I also know that in regions where food and water are scarce, breastfeeding is many times the only thing that can keep an infant alive. But you have to admit that the title World Breast Feeding Week is pretty comical. And so, to make light (though not necessarily make fun) of a funny but probably well deserved awareness week, I will take this moment to express a bit of breastfeeding cynicism that I have come to hold:

When I hear people passionately defend a woman's right to whip out her boob in public and openly let her baby (or in some cases, toddler) go to town on her nipple, calling it "a natural thing", I often consider asking them if they'd have a problem if my boyfriend whipped out his penis and started masturbating at the table next to them. After all, it too is a "natural thing."

Just something to ponder. By the way, its also Shark Week. As a friend pointed out to me tonight, maybe its the same thing? Happy feeding...

2. ....deleted this post due to incorrect info.... guess I should change the title to 4 Things!

3. Earlier this week, I woke up to find that it apparently wasn't as lonely of a night as I thought. No, instead, I had been visited by a friend, in my sleep, while completely unaware. You see, it appears I had been kissed (or rather, bitten) by a spider. Lovely. My lower lip was nice and fat on one side (the least he could have done was kiss me twice so that I might get the Angelina look!). And just when I thought it was bad enough, about 2 hours into my day, the allergic reaction began. So to go along with my lopsided lip, a nice little rash that resembles some sort of herpes-like infection developed. And the kicker? Tomorrow is my 10-year high school reunion. Hi, my name is Sara. Remember me? I didn't have sex in high school but I clearly made up for lost time as I now have what looks like a nasty STI on my f*ing face. Oh, this is so my life.

4. The People's Daily Online published an article last month about the latest (and possibly most creative) attempt to eradicate Dengue Fever. Scientists are looking at the possibility of sterilizing male mosquitoes that carry the disease and genetically engineering the species so that offspring who are carrying it never fully develop. Its kind of like preventing unwanted pregnancies for at-risk bugs (hmmm... maybe we should offer this up in high schools, too). There are, of course, many unknowns associated with this developing idea, including the fear of creating a "Frankenstein Mosquito." Really, you should probably just read the full article....

5. While it is no longer my full time line of work, I still find myself planning 3 to 4 weddings a year. And this last weekend, even after almost 9 years of experience, I had a wedding first. This particular wedding took place on 2 different boats - one for the ceremony, which cruised around Lake Union, and one for the reception, which remained docked on the northend. Because the ceremony boat would not dock until just before the reception would start, we planned it so that I would not be onboard during the ceremony (with the right amount of prep, planning, and practice this can be done). Therefore I could prep the reception boat before guests arrived. Before the ceremony boat set sail, however, I arrived to set up, round up the wedding party, and do any last minute fire extinguishing. As I'm pinning the the last few corsages on the grandmothers, I hear the captain of the boat come on over the loudspeaker. After welcoming the guests to the vessel, he says, "We'll be on our way shortly, folks. We are dropping our lines and pulling away as I speak." Shiiiiiitttt!!!! I all but throw the rest of the corsages at the remaining patiently waiting grandmothers, flash a here-goes-nothin' look at the groom who is standing next to me, and then take off running from one end of the boat to the other, dodging oblivious guests and grabbing things I need as I go. I run to the bow, down the stairs and without thinking, duck under the chain and leap off of the boat and onto the dock just in time. I turn to see the crew (who had been flailing their arms and telling me to wait) looking puzzled and the groom wide-eyed and wearing one of the biggest smiles I've seen from him yet. If we could reach each other, a high five would have definitely be in order. Someone later in the night referred to it as Extreme Wedding Coordinating. Ha! Extreme wedding coordinating... take that, Martha Stewart!

musical memories

music is a powerful thing. and precisely for that reason, i love it. last night i watched a movie and while the movie brought back tons of memories on its own, it was the music that enveloped me and swept me away, back into the past. memories of the first feeling of something closer to love than i had ever experienced at that young age flashed within me and for a moment i felt like i was young, innocent, and giddy again. i turned the television way up and listened to the building sounds of strings, piano, and my favorite - the drums; and, then, not too long after the crescendo came back down, i remembered the pain i felt when it was over so many years ago. it was probably the first real heartache i had ever felt. in my maturity, i would be reluctant to say it really was love, but instead confusion fueled by a flurry of flighted feelings neither i nor my flame could ever properly or sincerely express. i have really only been in love, a love that i can only recently admit, one other time and it was many, many years after this.

when i hear james taylor, peter, paul and mary, or harry belafonte, i immediately think of my father. childhood memories of whirlwind trips to see grandparents in rural idaho encompass my thoughts and i can almost hear my dad singing Sara Maria ever so sweetly to me; i can almost feel in my chest, in my stomach, in my face pure joy, comfort, and true father-daughter love. and, it completely and wholly warms my soul.

i should think of this power that music, much like smell, has over us before i decide to compose a moment with favorite beats, melodies, and lyrics. i should think twice before putting on an album that i love during a moment in which i know will be short lived and will most likely later result in disappointment. just because the kings happened to make an album that serves as the perfect soundtrack for a cluster fucked, yet fairly satisfying, rush of drunken passion, it does not mean you actually have to put it on, sara. while i rarely regret anything and certainly don't this, it would have been nice to have had the ability to think ahead and realize that now every time i hear caleb's sweet raspy, and sometimes hollow voice, i have flashbacks so vivid that i can't help but feel wildly inappropriate thinking about such things while composing a routine email at my desk. and yet, on the other hand, i will admit that such flashbacks fueled by core-shivering sounds almost always make me smile and provide a very nice vacation from microsoft office hell.

anyway, my point is that while visually stimulated memory recall can be strong and effective, it is, for me, nothing in comparison to the recollection that accompanies my most favorite thing in the world, music.

5 Things: Dirty Words, Shitty Stats, Twitter Vomit, Condom How-Tos, and the Demise of Social Interaction

Alright, here we go! The first entry in the new theme. This one got a little long (I envision much shorter ones in the future), but I hope you find something interesting, a little humor, and maybe even something useful below.

1. I was in Leavenworth (which was most recently described to me as Bavarian Disneyland) this weekend for a Bachelorette party and the iPhone came in handy, once again (I really want to hate this thing, but damn it - I freaking love it). As 9 of us, all dressed in shades of red (you know, just to draw a little extra attention to ourselves), walk up the main drag, we pass under a street sign that says Chumstick Highway. I immediately ask, What the hell is a Chumstick? I mean, I know what chum is - chopped up fish, most commonly used for bait. But what would a Chumstick be? So I get out the trusty iSara (yes, I named it) and google the new word. UrbanDictionary displays the first definition. And, now that I know, I'm happy to relay that not one of the nine of us had any clue what this innocent vocab search would come up with. Do you know? If you do, HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT!?!?! If not, I'll let you go ahead and look it up on your own. All I can say is that apparently Leavenworth is Bavarian Disneyland FOR ADULTS!


Photo by Kristen Proctor

2. So, while the majority of my work at PATH is focused on the Safe Water Project, a miniscule amount of my time has recently been allocated to a new project on Sanitation. Sanitation, you say? You mean like hand sanitizer, and disinfectant? Um, no. You see, I have been assigned to a project all about Shit. Yes, shit. And while I can't say I'm passionate yet about my new project on poop, I can definitely say I'm fascinated and appalled by the statistics I'm learning along the way. Though the majority of my small work on this project will most likely be limited document review, I figured it would be good to gain at least a little background on this topic. And, so I have started to read Rose George's The Big Necessity: The Unmentionable World of Human Waste... And Why It Matters. Reading it, my jaw dropped so much that I couldn't help but feel compelled to share some of the things that I found interesting, shockingly eye opening, and that make me feel once more so lucky (even about my the privileges surrounding poop):

- Going to the bathroom will make up approximately 3 years of your life.
-Scatology is the study of feces and and coprophagia is the consumption of feces (yes I said consumption).
- More children have died in the past decade from diarrhea than all of the people killed in war since World War II. And, guess what is a leading cause of diarrhea? Feces contamination (in food, water, on hands, clothing, etc) and lack of sanitation.
- 40% (thats 4 out of 10, ladies and gentlemen) in this world do not have any access to a latrine, toilet, bucket or even a box to do their business in. Instead they do it in the open, in bushes, next to trees, in rivers, in alleys, on train tracks, in abandoned buildings. Meaning, 40% of our fellow humans spend 3 years of their life searching for a place to do something we simply follow generic signs leading us to a throne in which we can royally sit upon and poop.

Amazing, isn't it? And, this is just in the first part of the book. So far, its quite good, an easy read. Intrigued? Visit The Big Necessity site for more info. All facts above are credited to Rose George.


3. Ok, so I realize I have succumb to the Facebook craze, and that I occupy a blogspot, and that in the recent past I once had a MySpace account... but, I do NOT get the fascination with TWITTER! It is EVERYWHERE! And, did you know that there is a whole new set of vocab that has been built around this new social phenomenon? I had heard of tweeting, but was in complete awe when I saw (posted on Facebook, incidentally) the word twittascope (yes, as in a twitter horoscope). And then I read in a news article about kids and tweetups! What the F is a tweetup? Luckily the author of this article was either in the same boat as I was in the WTF sentiment, or had the foresight enough to suspect at least a portion of his potential audience would be. He directed me to Twittazon. TWITTAZON!?!?! Ha! There I learned that a tweetup is a meetup in real life between two tweople (yep, you guessed it: people who tweet). At this tweetup, tweople may become tweeps (friends who tweet) and may decide to twirt (flirt) with each other. At this point, I couldn't help but start thinking of my own twitter words (though I'm sure most of them have probably already been adapted by the twitterati and tweeters are using them around the world); I then couldn't help but write with my new words a little twitter narrative (see if you can translate):

There once was a girl named Twara. Having been bombarded with Twitter in all parts of her life (most recently at twork), she thought, "Maybe I should start tweeting, then maybe I can meet a nice twoy and we could twirt." If he didn't turn out to be a twouchebag, Twara could possibly twate him and most likely twuck him. She thought, who knows, maybe they'd get twengaged, twed and have 2.5 twids and a twog (afterall, Twara was not a "twitty person"). If she did this, maybe Twara had a chance to live twappily ever after."

Ha! Sorry, Twara, I highly doubt it... You're living in a tweam.


4. One of the coolest products being improved and tested at PATH is the Woman's Condom. There are many reasons this is a breakthrough technology, but most notably it makes disease prevention a woman's choice - and, most importantly in the sex trade industry (something very few Americans ever have to consider as a source of income, but one that millions of women in other less developed regions of the world are forced to practice).

I remember hearing about early versions of the female condom that hit the market and made the news a few years back. Like many of you, I would guess, I couldn't fully wrap my head around how it worked. It was once described to me as something similar to a sandwich baggy that gets put "up there." Well, now I know that while that description is somewhat close, its not quite like that. I recently had the opportunity to review an instruction booklet on how to use this new female-initiated contraception tool. The test was to see if I would understand how to use it simply by studying drawings (therefore making it universal in any language). So, as I sat staring at images of a [hopefully] fictional woman's vagina, which had been carefully sketched by one of my colleagues, here is what I learned (boys, if you can't handle words like vagina and labia, you should just skip over this part - and by doing so, you should also come to terms with having no hope of ever crossing over to "man" status):

The condom, which is quite a bit larger than the traditional male version but just as thin, is packaged so that the majority if it is folded and compressed into what looks like a pill capsule. The part not squeezed into the capsule is the open end, which contains a flexible ring that I would guess to be about 2 1/2 inches in diameter (think about the part of the male condom that surrounds the base of the penis, only bigger). The ring rests outside of the labia after the capsule part is inserted into the vagina, preventing the condom from slipping inside the vagina during intercourse. Okay, so now for the really interesting part: the capsule is held together at the tip by a substance that when it interacts with vaginal fluids, dissolves (usually in less than a minute), allowing the condom to unfold inside. Wait, there's more! Now, we are all aware of the movement involved in intercourse, so how does the thing stay inside? Well, PATH added four small foam dots to outside of the condom. And, again, with the help of those womanly juices, the dots expand and adhere to the sides of the vagina, holding it in place. And, finally, the best part? Apparently, according to couples testing the condom (imagine having THAT task!), these dots produce an enhanced sexual experience.

Pretty cool, huh? Yeah, I love my job. More info can be found in the PATH Woman's Condom Factsheet.

Photo by Glenn Austin/PATH

5. Friend sent me an email advertisement and coupon this week for AmazonFresh, Amazon.com's newest installment in one-click shopping: groceries delivered right to your door. I realize grocery delivery isn't exactly new, but the fact that Amazon is now offering it blows my mind. More importantly, it also eloquently adds to my "thanks-to-the-internet-we-really-never-ever-have-to-leave-our-homes-anymore" theory. And, we wonder why we have so many socially awkward people walking around. Why practice our interaction skills when we have an internet option to fulfill every need: vpn access for working from home, webmd and online pharmacies for medical care, facebook for socializing, match.com for dating, internet porn for sexual gratification, cnn.com for current events, and amazon.com for [now] everything a person could ever want/need. AmazonFresh... really? Just pry yourself away from the computer and go to the damn store.


Until next week, friends...

5 Things

Since taking my new position at PATH, I constantly get questions about what I'm learning and what its like to work there. And, my general response is "so much" and "its awesome so far". But people always want more. And while reportedly entertaining, blogs of late have been few are far between, and usually muddled with insomnia mixed with a little hyped up emotion; I think its time to return to some substance. Therefore, I'm introducing the "5 Things" series. Each week, most likely toward the end of the week (think Thursday night or Friday), the entry will be about 5 things I have learned this week. Now, now, not to worry - these things won't all be work-related (some weeks maybe not at all work-related); the occasional (and not so occasional) emotional outbursts, political rants, and general hollering from my soapbox will still spill out into this Infinite Abyss.

So anyway, there's that. We'll see how well this works.

Preview for the first 5 Things: Worldly Shit (literally), Internet Dependence, Urban Dictionary Bliss, and… well, there's still two days left this week. Surf over later this week to see what surfaces. Happy Hump Day, y'all!

Welcome to The Island

You should probably know, though I’m not going to be the one to tell you, that I’ve placed you on “the island.” And, no, this is NOT the island that’s deserted and where we have to spend the rest of our lives depending on each other, no doubt spending the first 3 weeks doing it on the beach morning, noon, and night (oh come on, you know that’s the first thing everyone thinks of with this scenario). No, I’m not on this island at all. You are though, along with those who are like you and have been sent there previously. You guys can totally do it on the beach morning, noon, and night should you wish – but I’m pretty sure you (and the others – uh, okay, MOST of the others) don’t swing that way.

For the first few weeks, there will be attempts to test out your carpentry skills and build a raft, and I’ll even have sentencing remorse and send out a lifeboat (or two) to bring you back. It’s usually an attempt late at night, after you’re delirious from something island-like, like fermented coconut milk, and me suffering from a more common intoxication. And because of your lovely allure and sweet, perfect kisses, I can’t help but welcome you back, even if just for a moment. But, I promise you, its short lived; just ask your new island buddies. They know. They’ll tell you that I’m crazy (that’s always your guys’ excuse) and that you’re not alone. They’ll say there are way better fish in the sea (and you’ll think, there damn well better be –we’re surrounded by miles and miles of water!). And finally, they’ll say not to worry, man, you are definitely better off on the island. And, hey, you know what – honestly, you probably are. And while it was fun and exciting, having you there, and not here, is better for me too.

Home

Well its been a long time since I’ve written. I know, I know… it’s rare that I take such a long hiatus, but for a while something somehow managed to squash the urge to purge my thoughts on the screen.

For the most part, things are going really well. Sure, I have my complaints (which will, I'm sure, be unveiled in late night scribbles soon), but who doesn’t? Even in the most comfortable and smoothest of times, one generally has at least one thorn under foot. While my previous entries are not always riddled with sadness, frustration, or anger, I do find myself at my most creative and descriptive when I am holding a passionate pain. I was re-reading past narratives the other night and I was flooded with the memories of how difficult 2007 and 2008 were. Wow. The ups and downs, the confusion, the hopeless frustration, all consumed with such disappointment; the reappearance of a ghost who draped my spirit in bright brassy red; and the anger and bitterness that I rarely have that bubbled to the surface and narrowed my vision of possibility. And yet, again, the words that fill those pages are so much more real and raw than anything I’ve tried to write recently.

But, 2009, so far has been a different story. I’m happy in Seattle today. For the first time in a long time, the wanderlust that has always been so ever-present has subsided for a bit. This is my home, a place that comforts me and calls me when I am away for both long and short periods of time. The deep desire to travel is still there, of course, as it is something that will never leave me, but the urge to move somewhere new has turned its powerful head and is no longer staring me in the face, seducing me. Even the call of the ocean and lure of the sun and sand has quieted for the moment. We’ll see how long it lasts, but right now, it feels really, really good... to be home.

Things I learned in 2008

(a continuation of 2006 and 2007)

Trust is a very delicate thing.

Snow isn't as exciting as it was when I was 10.

Surprises are so much fun!

If it seems too good to be true, sadly, it probably is.

The youth vote is a powerful thing.

Yep, I still hate skiing.

I have more balls than many of the men in my life.

Doing the hard thing is sometimes doing the right thing.

Grantseeking is proving to be way more rewarding than grantmaking.

I still know how to throw a damn good party.

All men aren't pigs.

Jumping ship without knowing how to swim isn't necessarily suicide.

Sunshine does wonders for the soul.

Fuck 'em, they'll get what they deserve... someday.

I love the pounding feeling in my chest when you pound on those drums.

America is finally more excited than afraid of change.

You can fall out of love with someone and still love them more than ever.

Having a messy room is just "my thing".

I am still so lucky.