How about a little validation? It's all we want. We don't want "I love you". We don't want to relive the past. We don't even want affection. Just validation. We make our attempts to prove that we are over it. That we are over you. And, to prove that all of it wasn't for nothing. And even though we fear that you might think such attempts stem from desire and hope, we continue to make them – for it is necessary in our mind to make the present bigger than the past. It is necessary to plow over awkwardness, to stumble through uncertainty, and to dodge humiliation in order to show that we are strong, untouched, unemotional, and that you no longer matter. Because, quite frankly, you don't.
The loop hole, however, is that you think it is all for something more. You wonder if we are wanting more. If we are feeling more. Maybe you silently hope so – because if we did, that would be your sign that all of it wasn't for nothing. Our attempts signify to you a change in heart, a change in strength (weakness?) and you like feeling like the strong one, the important one, the one who on occasion just might still occupy our mind. It is that hope that prohibits your gift of validation to us. And it is that lack of validation that frustrates us, fucks with our mind, and on occasion even makes us hate you.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Thursday, May 10, 2007
New Blog - No Title
As if life hasn't thrown me enough curve balls these past 4 months, I had my purse stolen this weekend. Can you believe that? Who snatches purses these days? And who does it in an airport, where apparently security is "currently at the ORANGE level"? What. The. Fuck. Good news though: you can still fly without a driver's license. You spend a little extra time with those ever-so-grumpy guys at security, but it can be done.
All week I've been realizing the numerous random items in my purse that, damn it, I really wish I still had: sunglasses, that favorite lip gloss, my cute business card holder, and of course the various financial documents. Most recently, I remembered that in it was the Lane Bryant giftcard that I have been saving since December to buy something fun right before I go to New York. Ugh. For someone who hasn't had a dime to buy herself a damn thing all winter – that was a very difficult save. And, all for nothin'. All I can say is I hope that bitch is skinny, like size 4 skinny. She may be able to sport the sunglasses and spend the $7 cash I had in there, but damn it - she better have no use for that damn gift certificate. No, I'm not bitter at all….
Life's been good though – really good, actually. Despite a tough start to the year… 2007 just might hold some potential. I love my new job. LOVE IT. Seattle is feeling once again like home. And, my sometimes restless soul seems to be accepting some lovingly calm influence lately. Not a bad feeling at all. Yes, if I can just ride this wave for a couple more months, I might be home free for 2007.
Oh, and yes - thanks to all of my mileage-accruing credit card debt, I am headed to NYC. And, I can't wait. Just ask Charlie – I pretty much remind him everyday how damn excited I am: "Charlie, 19 days!" "Charlie, 18 days!" "Charlie, tomorrow, just 17 days!" The poor guy will be burnt out on the excitement before I even get there. I just hope he gets a second wind when I walk through that gate. I'm banking on an exciting reunion, my friend.
I don't have the money to do a SATC Fabulous NYC trip, but it should be fun all the same. I'm happy doing the free ride to Staten Island, the picnic in Central Park, and I am pretty used to cheap wine now. And, not only do I get to see Charlie, I get to hang out with Merissa AND Kevin! Three of my favorite people in one short week, one big city! Yes, I have a feeling it will be 5 very memorable days.
Charlie, JUST 16 DAYS!!
All week I've been realizing the numerous random items in my purse that, damn it, I really wish I still had: sunglasses, that favorite lip gloss, my cute business card holder, and of course the various financial documents. Most recently, I remembered that in it was the Lane Bryant giftcard that I have been saving since December to buy something fun right before I go to New York. Ugh. For someone who hasn't had a dime to buy herself a damn thing all winter – that was a very difficult save. And, all for nothin'. All I can say is I hope that bitch is skinny, like size 4 skinny. She may be able to sport the sunglasses and spend the $7 cash I had in there, but damn it - she better have no use for that damn gift certificate. No, I'm not bitter at all….
Life's been good though – really good, actually. Despite a tough start to the year… 2007 just might hold some potential. I love my new job. LOVE IT. Seattle is feeling once again like home. And, my sometimes restless soul seems to be accepting some lovingly calm influence lately. Not a bad feeling at all. Yes, if I can just ride this wave for a couple more months, I might be home free for 2007.
Oh, and yes - thanks to all of my mileage-accruing credit card debt, I am headed to NYC. And, I can't wait. Just ask Charlie – I pretty much remind him everyday how damn excited I am: "Charlie, 19 days!" "Charlie, 18 days!" "Charlie, tomorrow, just 17 days!" The poor guy will be burnt out on the excitement before I even get there. I just hope he gets a second wind when I walk through that gate. I'm banking on an exciting reunion, my friend.
I don't have the money to do a SATC Fabulous NYC trip, but it should be fun all the same. I'm happy doing the free ride to Staten Island, the picnic in Central Park, and I am pretty used to cheap wine now. And, not only do I get to see Charlie, I get to hang out with Merissa AND Kevin! Three of my favorite people in one short week, one big city! Yes, I have a feeling it will be 5 very memorable days.
Charlie, JUST 16 DAYS!!
Wednesday, April 4, 2007
Above the Influence... Out in Left Field
So, as a few of you know, I have been known to be somewhat opinionated when it comes to social stereotypes and mainstream media mishaps. Well, you'll be happy to know I continue to voice my opinion when I feel so passionately inclined. After ranting about my irritation to Liz, Jenny, and my poor unsuspecting new coworkers, I sent the following email to both KISS 106.1 and The Partnership for a Drug-Free America. Read on and think of me when you hear the perfect example of yet another PSA blunder.
Dear Marcus,
I am not sure if you are the correct person to be emailing in this situation. Last weekend, I heard a commercial aired on Kiss 106.1 that really bothered me. It was a PSA by Partnership for a Drug-Free America where a young girl talks in a robotic voice about the pressures to conform and specifically to succumb to pressures to smoke weed. I am in complete agreement with PDFA's latest message to stay "Above the Influence." In fact, I think its one of the better slogans that they've used in years. Not only does it encourage kids to "just say no", but it also promotes self-determination and confidence to believe in what you want, regardless of what others may think.
However, I was disturbed to hear the message blatantly target "Indie" music directly preceding the message to "stay above weed". I am not one to necessarily promote marijuana use (especially to teenaged kids), nor am I of the belief that Indie music is the only genre worth listening to; but, it worries me that we are making connections between two things that do not innately go hand-in-hand. I would be just as concerned if the connection was made between Hip-Hop and Heroine or Rap and Cocaine. Furthermore, it seems slightly contradictory to criticize the independent music genre in an ad that is supposedly not only promoting a drug-free youth, but also independent thinking in society's young people.
Though generally its my personal tendency to think "oh they didn't REALLY mean it like that", I have come to learn in both previous profession, as well as previous education in marketing, that in fact there are NO mistakes in advertising. If no connection was actually being made between the indie music genre and the negative connotations of marijuana use, I would be interested to know how many (if any) local radio stations whose majority of playlists are made of indie-style music actually air this same PSA.
Again, I am not sure if you are the correct person to be emailing in regards to this comment, but I figured as the station's Program Director, you might be a good person to voice such an opinion to. I would be interested in knowing if you (or anyone at KISS 106.1) has any say over such decisions as to what type of advertising is selected. I've also cc'd the general sales manager in case he has any feedback or insight he might also have.
I look forward to hearing from you.
Thanks for listening,
Sara C. Watson
Dear Marcus,
I am not sure if you are the correct person to be emailing in this situation. Last weekend, I heard a commercial aired on Kiss 106.1 that really bothered me. It was a PSA by Partnership for a Drug-Free America where a young girl talks in a robotic voice about the pressures to conform and specifically to succumb to pressures to smoke weed. I am in complete agreement with PDFA's latest message to stay "Above the Influence." In fact, I think its one of the better slogans that they've used in years. Not only does it encourage kids to "just say no", but it also promotes self-determination and confidence to believe in what you want, regardless of what others may think.
However, I was disturbed to hear the message blatantly target "Indie" music directly preceding the message to "stay above weed". I am not one to necessarily promote marijuana use (especially to teenaged kids), nor am I of the belief that Indie music is the only genre worth listening to; but, it worries me that we are making connections between two things that do not innately go hand-in-hand. I would be just as concerned if the connection was made between Hip-Hop and Heroine or Rap and Cocaine. Furthermore, it seems slightly contradictory to criticize the independent music genre in an ad that is supposedly not only promoting a drug-free youth, but also independent thinking in society's young people.
Though generally its my personal tendency to think "oh they didn't REALLY mean it like that", I have come to learn in both previous profession, as well as previous education in marketing, that in fact there are NO mistakes in advertising. If no connection was actually being made between the indie music genre and the negative connotations of marijuana use, I would be interested to know how many (if any) local radio stations whose majority of playlists are made of indie-style music actually air this same PSA.
Again, I am not sure if you are the correct person to be emailing in regards to this comment, but I figured as the station's Program Director, you might be a good person to voice such an opinion to. I would be interested in knowing if you (or anyone at KISS 106.1) has any say over such decisions as to what type of advertising is selected. I've also cc'd the general sales manager in case he has any feedback or insight he might also have.
I look forward to hearing from you.
Thanks for listening,
Sara C. Watson
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Something sweet....
Be my friend.
Don't forget to love me,
Think of me in your dreams,
And promise you won't forget me.
Choose to see me when you close your eyes,
And hope for me to never leave.
It could be like it once was.
All you have to do is ask,
And we could go back,
Back to when neither of us was afraid,
Back to when we were free
To touch and love and dream,
Back to when you were you
And I was me.
Don't forget to love me,
Think of me in your dreams,
And promise you won't forget me.
Choose to see me when you close your eyes,
And hope for me to never leave.
It could be like it once was.
All you have to do is ask,
And we could go back,
Back to when neither of us was afraid,
Back to when we were free
To touch and love and dream,
Back to when you were you
And I was me.
Thursday, March 1, 2007
Dreaming while breathing
So I've been doing that thing again... holding my breath in my sleep. Its so weird. I don't know why I do it, and even though it most generally accompanies a dream where I am swimming (or worse yet, drowning), I don't realize I've done it until wake up and feel the aching in my lungs. If I am drowning, I wake up just before I presumably die, my chest heaving and tight; but most of the time, I don't fully wake and don't feel the ache until the next day. I think its those times that I must dream that I suddenly acquire the ability to breathe underwater.
Last night, I was swimming - in a pool with women I feel I know, yet don't recognize. The pool was in my elementary school gym, encased in old brick and containing the bluest of Maui waters. I was swimming lengths in the same lane with a beautiful acquaintance - though I can't quite remember who it was. The person I do remember, though, is the woman standing above the pool, in an all white pantsuit and a silver whistle dangling from her neck: it's Ellen. Yes, as in Degeneres. How wierd is that? She kept blowing that damn whistle. And, I kept holding my damn breath. Until, eventually, when I inhaled slowly, shallowly, and miraculously learned I could breath in the liquid and survive moments, minutes, hours immersed in this blue heaven.
Maybe seconds later or maybe hours later, I am crawling out of straw-covered ground into an open charred field and staring at orange fire in the sky, ready to dodge sparks that might be coming my way. This time I am with men, all of whom I recognize, some of whom I love, others whom I fear. Our bodies are covered in black soot and the air is thick with black smoke. And, strangely, I do not hold my breath here; no, here, I breathe in eagerly, freely, hungrily.
Last night, I was swimming - in a pool with women I feel I know, yet don't recognize. The pool was in my elementary school gym, encased in old brick and containing the bluest of Maui waters. I was swimming lengths in the same lane with a beautiful acquaintance - though I can't quite remember who it was. The person I do remember, though, is the woman standing above the pool, in an all white pantsuit and a silver whistle dangling from her neck: it's Ellen. Yes, as in Degeneres. How wierd is that? She kept blowing that damn whistle. And, I kept holding my damn breath. Until, eventually, when I inhaled slowly, shallowly, and miraculously learned I could breath in the liquid and survive moments, minutes, hours immersed in this blue heaven.
Maybe seconds later or maybe hours later, I am crawling out of straw-covered ground into an open charred field and staring at orange fire in the sky, ready to dodge sparks that might be coming my way. This time I am with men, all of whom I recognize, some of whom I love, others whom I fear. Our bodies are covered in black soot and the air is thick with black smoke. And, strangely, I do not hold my breath here; no, here, I breathe in eagerly, freely, hungrily.
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