Here I stand and there goes the bus

Lately I've been having this feeling--like I've missed the bus.  Only in this instance, the "bus" is life.  Not life as in life or death but life as in "my friends are married and have babies and I am single with a dog."  I am not discounting my life or my accomplishments because I love where I live and I enjoy my work and I have run a few marathons but I still have this feeling like maybe my tape is on pause while everyone else's seems to be moving steadily along.  

I don't always feel this way but tonight as I stood on the back steps listening to my neighbor tell me about her nose job that she will be getting this summer, I looked at her and couldn't imagine what this girl could possibly tweak to look better than she already does.  And then I got to wondering, "where does she have money to get a nose job?!"  (As a side note, the latter question is one that comes from listening to hours upon hours of Dave Ramsey on public radio and promising to "act my wage" and pay cash for e-very-thing.)  This thinking only lead me to be silently jealous of people with double incomes and then, THEN I got to thinking about how I am not a half of a double income and THEN I realized "oh yeah, I am single.  That's right."  It is a vicious cycle.  A vicious cycle indeed.  

I guess, if I am honest, I also feel this way because every time, or nearly every time, I open my email there is yet another engagement anouncement or another baby being born to another happy couple--a happy dual income couple, at that.  

I realize that this blog looks a lot like sulking and I know I didn't send invites to my pity party but here I stand and over there, there is the bus.  The bus that I seem to have missed.  

South Africa Continued...

I had to run yesterday in the middle of posting my blog because my dog, Shannon, was horribly ill with some virus that made her vomit for two days straight.  I know, fun!  I didn't want to take her in at first--not because I am mean but because I am poor.  So I decided to wait it out thinking that this 50 pound dog can only vomit so much.  Boy was I wrong!  In the middle of my posting I could no longer stand the retching and heaving and decided to quickly post and haul ass to the vet.  No worries, Shan is better now after $101 worth of pills and some peanut butter-flavored goo that is supposed to stop stomach "gurgling" (a technical term, I am sure).  The latter of which Shan thinks is a treat and does tricks incessantly so that I will give her more.  Anyway, just wanted to show you more pictures: 

Most people in Cape Town have an amazing 

fashion sense except for the man above

who is wearing a nasty speedo.  Luckily, 

unless you have hawk-like vision, you 

probably can't see it. 

Where I "summer".  That is a lie. 

Amanda, mom and Wylie
I don't know Jakob but I love that the

author says that "Jakob is domb."  Yeah, 

Jakob is the dumb one.  
My nephew Wylie.  Such a sweet boy. 

South Africa, Time Well Spent

Depressed, I write to you.  I am back in Atlanta from another amazing trip to Cape Town, my future home. :-)  I've attached pictures so you can see how stunning a place it is and hopefully I can dispel any rediculous beliefs that South Africa is filled with thatch huts and people wearing tribal paint.  

sisters 
My nephew, Wylie looking very much like a little Buddha
Seb and Wylie
The beach at sunset
Bird's eye view of Cape Town 

 

Saving Money Sara Style

As my friends and my parents know (sorry again, mom and dad) I am terrible horrible at saving money.  I argue that it is because I probably do not make enough but then again, I am preaching to the choir.  Perhaps I lack a certain hormone in my body or am missing some part of my brain (likely the same part that thinks cleaning is super fun) or maybe it is because I would rather save money where no one else can touch it.  I mean, if my money is in my bank account, I have to pay bills with it and then the money that I wanted to save ends up in the hands of a wealthy corporation which in my head looks a lot like the Monopoly Man.   

When I was a kid I thought I had a brilliant money saving idea.  I must have just learned about the American Indians in school because one night, after eating corn on the cob, I decided that I would save my money like the Indians--in a tin can with the kernel-less cob buried in the back yard.  It was an amazing idea indeed.  Luckily, in this situation and in no other, I am by nature an impatient person and I like instant gratification.  

After a short time, I decided to purchase a cold soda at the gas station up the street and I needed my coins that I had been saving, so I grabbed a small shovel and went to work.  Once I had exhumed the tin (which did not take long since I didn't bury it very deep) I reached my hand in and just as quickly pulled it out.  Sick!  The pennies had turned green from the rotten corn-cob and the quarters were covered with either the first antibiotic known to man or some sort of furry turquoise growth that happens to quarters when saved.  I don't remember telling my parents about my experiment so I would imagine that I simply threw the moldy corn cob away and took my life into my own hands when desiring a form of payment.  

Before you think that one day I will save all of my money in a sock secretly kept at the top of my closet where my husband and children (this is obviously in the future) cannot find it, I am going to attend the Financial Peace University class based on Dave Ramsey's teachings.  So look out world and look out bank account because towards the middle of summer, I will know a lot about saving money.  

Internet Dating: news from the trenches

I never thought finding love would be like this.  I know, I know, "when you aren't looking is when you find it."  I just always thought that I would meet someone whilst stopped at a red light.  I look over and he is looking at me.  I smile subtly at first but then when I realize he is looking at me, the smile broadens.  Maybe my eyes even dance like they are supposed to when one meets the father of her unborn children for the first time.  But no.  Usually, when I look to my left at a red light I see old men or women doing their make-up in the rear view mirror, which is why I decided that desperate times call for desperate measures...

Enter Eharmony, one of the many online dating sites.  You pay an exorbitant amount per month and you can meet people online.  On Valentine's Day after spending the day hearing about how all of my married friends were spending their evenings, I decided to check it out.  

I am not new to this however, just a little bit bruised.  You see, last year, I decided to try match.com, eharmony's nemesis.  This was a short-lived experience; however, because after filling out all of my information, I waited to see my "number one match" who actually matched me 98%.  I scrolled down, feeling pretty excited about who I would meet.  My "mouse hand" was even a little bit sweaty as I waited with anticipation only to find that my number one match was actually physically and mentally disabled.  I love to celebrate the differences and I delight in everyone's equality but when it comes to dating, I have to be honest, I felt like this somehow reflected poorly on me.  My mom was like, "what did you write?  Did you just say, I like to run (because match.com matches you according to what you say about yourself)?"  Turns out, no matter who was at fault for that one (no I did not use simple sentence structure), I needed a bigger boost of confidence than match.com could possibly provide.  Needless to say, I have not been on that site since.  

As I write this, I am not sure why I chose to try eharmony considering what happened when I last tempted the online dating gods but I guess I had heard friends talk about it and bought into the hype that "everyone is dating online."  

Eharmony, funnily enough can be broken down like this: e+harm+money (okay, so I cheated and added an extra m) = you are paying for pain online.  Take for example the fact that today, a vampire-esque looking male told me that he did not wish to get to know me (he "closed" me for all you online daters out there) because (and I LOVE this reason) the chemistry is just not there.  Um, can I beg to ask the million dollar question, Frankenstein?  Is the chemistry ever there with anyone when it comes to you???  I am going to bet not.  

I feel like I have to say this for all of you out there who are channeling my mother: I know that looks do not last.  I am aware that beauty fades.  I understand that the "spark" is not indicative of a lasting relationship.  I know.  But for some reason, my Shallow Hall comes forth sometimes when I am on a date and I almost gag at the thought of kissing the man across the table from me with the black beans for teeth.  I mean, attraction has to count for something--how else will we populate the planet and make sure that my mom has more photos in her brag book?