Advice from the farting dog

     So, I was just sitting here, trying to get some stuff done, when my dog came up beside me to snuggle. Now maybe I'm just turning into an obnoxious dog lady, but I think my dog is pretty stinkin cute, so I went with it. But then he farted, and it smelled so bad that even he couldn't stand himself, so he left the room. And somehow (through the twisted workings of my mind), that got me thinking...how many times in life have we been getting along just fine, minding our own business, when someone that looks cute , cuddly and fun to pet, comes into our lives, pays us some attention, distracts us from our purpose, only to later leave us alone and gasping for breath?
     Now, let me be clear on one thing. This is in no way some kind of feminist "Girl power" post or rampage against dating. I don't really like feminists...sometimes they don't use deodorant and I'm personal hygiene's #1 fan.  And, truth be told, I actually kind of like dating...except for the time that that guy named Dick pooped on my bathroom floor (true story, more on that later...well actually not...its gross). Even that date was totally worth it for the story.   Rather, this is more of a "devil's advocate" post, encouraging my party peoples to stop wasting time pining after the "one that got (ahem ran) away" and enjoy life, because life is pretty freaking sweet as is, farting dogs and all.
    As my peers and I encounter our "mid-20's",I've been hearing a lot of biological clocks ticking...I think there's something wrong with mine because to me they sound kind of like bombs just waiting to explode.  I see a lot of people investing all of their time and energy to finding "the one", and ultimately putting all of their self worth based on other people's perceptions and treatment of them. When someone breaks it off, so many of us immediately pine after that person, wondering "what if", and trying to figure out what we could possibly do to have them want us again. And sometimes we don't even really want to be with that person, we just want them to want us so that we can prove to ourselves, in a roundabout way, that we really did have it goin on that whole time, they just didn't realize it. Gosh, rejection is addicting isn't it? I mean, I'm guilty of it myself...I even keep in touch with the ex from time to time just to get a good shot of the hard stuff. Mmmm...it burns.
   So, oh yea, the point... i almost forgot...the point is screw that...screw making yourself feel bad based off of how other people treat you.  The truth is, everybody has a story ....including the person that broke your heart. Heck,beyond that....the crabby work security guard, the d-bag cop who wrote you a ticket for an expired tag on your way to the DMV, the clingy girlfriend, the nag boss. Everyone has experiences that have contributed to the way they are, and how they treat other people. I mean, look at my dog...can I really be mad at him ? The poor guy has colitis and is on a "gastrointestinally friendly" diet, rendering him with poor sphincter control. Can I really blame him for that? I don't have to stay around it and enjoy it, but why beat myself up over it? So , maybe your ex isn't actively trying to be such a prick,maybe his own parents didn't really even like each other , so the poor guy hasn't a clue how to love other people, because he was never shown. Or, maybe your crazy clingy girlfriend has a past of being cheated on, so she feels incredibly insecure and her defense mechanism is to haaang on tiiiight so you can't cheat too. I'm not saying that we can make our past "our story" to use as a get out of jail free card to act totally ridiculous to other people. You can't go around saying "sorry, but I'm a Gemini who's daddy didn't love her, so I'm going to be totally bipolar and you'll have to be ok with it, because , you know, im the Twins".  I'm just saying, rather than blaming yourself for what's wrong and why that person hurt you, try and look at the other person's experience and release yourself from a false sense of responsibility for things they've been through that you can't help. I mean, if there's something you're aware of that you can do to help that person, like show them how to love, positively reinforce them to be all they can be, etc thats fabulous. But, if things don't work out, stop blaming yourself. Whatifitis makes you ugly.  We're all on this Earth rock to evolve and learn a set of lessons. The cool thing is, every person that enters our lives does so for a reason. And, when the purpose of that relationship is served, that person may exit our lives...and when that happens, both parties are a little bit different, and hopefully better for it.  For example, bachelor/bachelorette #1 may have been a part of your life to show you the importance of setting boundaries, bachelor/bachelorette #2 may have been around to show you how to trust other people and not be so uptight, bachelor/bachelorette #3 may have just been a pain in the butt, but maybe you were a vital part of their life experience that taught them a lesson they needed to learn.  We are all on one crazy trip through life, and it goes fast,so rather than waiting on stand-by for someone else to make you feel a-ok, hop on board this plane of life with a first class ticket. Enjoy the turbulence, it'll help you appreciate the destination a little more. Thank God for the learning opportunities, and then LEARN from it, and fllly on little ones. Take care of yourself, because the best gift you can give to the person that you reallly want to be with , is your whole healed self. And, while your taking care of yourself, letting go of self- blame, and enjoying life, you might just find yourself a travel companion. And, it'll likely be an upgrade from the gaseous person you were beating yourself up over in the first place. In the meantime, be nice to the grumpy cafeteria lady, her husband was probably mean to her this morning, and she might have gas. She's doing the best she can the best she knows how.

The Blogging Virgin Voyage

    What the hay...I, Sara Vinci, have a blog. I feel like that would be more appropriately suited as a question...I, Sara Vinci, have a blog??! How did I get here? How did I evolve from the girl who made fun of people's overly emotional facebook statuses (which are, BTW, still extreeeeemely lame) to straight up blogger chick? I think it started with the purchase of my MacBook...I think one has to turn just a tad bit Emo with the Apple (something about all the cool media features I guess) Next thing you know, I'll be eating vegan foods blogging about the emotional experiences of a squirrel.

   But seriously, how I got here...Where do I begin? Long story short, over the past two years, I've been doing a lot of growing up. I mean a lottttt ( emphasis placed with extra t's).  It hasn't been easy; I've been doing a crap ton of looking inward and self-analysis (talk about painful). But, in the process, I've come across some pretty cool tidbits of information (and dare I say, wisdom), that have helped me tremendously through some pretty crappy times ( I like parentheses). So, for two years,I've been jotting this stuff down in my super fancy leather-bound journal, minding my own beeswax, all gung-ho about my new path of self-development....but extremely content in keeping it locked up in the internal safe....somewhere alongside those stories about always pissing my pants in kindergarten. Until now...I keep getting the message (more on how I've been doing that later) that I'm supposed to "speak my truth".  

   "What the hell?" I ask God (ok, on second thought, maybe not the best way to pose a question to God, but it's cool, we're friends). I don't feel like I've been going around telling lies all the time, so what do you mean I'm supposed to "speak my truth"? Then yesterday the answer fell in my lap, through talking to a friend, that maybe I could start to share my discoveries with others. I don't consider myself one with a lot of "experiences," but maybe the few I've had can be slightly entertaining, or perhaps even helpful, to a person or two. You know, in a Chelsea Handler meets Buddha while partying it up with Jesus kind of way. So here I am, with step one, blogging it up.  ( I think this is the part where really fun girls insert something like "holllaaah"). 

  So yea, that's what this is about. If you take offense to things like angels, God, autism Tuesdays, or saracasm ( originally a mis-spelling, but then I realized I like it), you should probably stop reading here. And go see a proctologist to do something about that stick up your butt.

God bless and good night,

Sara