OK, OK... Happy Valentine's Day

Well it's no secret to anyone that Valentine's Day is my least favorite holiday. I just find it super commercialized, forced, awkward and silly. And I'm not the only one who thinks this way. Apparently, many cynical couples and singles alike think the Feb. 14 holiday is just a bunch of heart-shaped hogwash.

But thank you to everyone who sent me a Happy Valentine's Day text or email. I appreciate the thought. And did anyone see the V-day Google banner? It's pretty much too cute for words.
Tonight Stewart and I are going bowling with a fabulous group of people, and as a "non-Valentine's Day present" he offered to pay for our cabin this weekend at White Pass. And I did break down and get him a card. Damn you, stupid holiday, for making me feel guilty and sucking me in!

Happy Valentine's Day, friends. I heart you!!

Woe Is Me... And My Laundry

Last night I was able to identify the point in my life where I can truly consider myself a “grown up.” And that, I’ve decided, is when I am finally blessed with a washer and dryer in my own home.

I’m frantically trying to get ready for my trip to White Pass this weekend, which includes the normal preparations such as shopping, packing and LAUNDRY. However, with my busy schedule I am really feeling pressed for time to get everything done before I leave Friday afternoon. And honestly, rushing home from work so I could load up all my laundry, drag it down the hallway to the elevator and into our basement laundry room in the hopes that one of the three washers would be available did NOT seem appealing. Especially considering that I needed to get about three loads done or risk snowboarding commando.

But upon penalty of being tarred and feathered or even death, we restricted by our HOA from doing laundry after 9 p.m. This creates a huge conundrum for those of us who work until 6 or sometimes 7 p.m. The situation was really starting to stress me out.

Ever since moving to Seattle three years ago I have been dealing with laundry drama. Apartment buildings in this city rarely supply enough washers and dryers in their ghetto basement laundry rooms to accommodate the large number of building residents. So unless I want to give up an entire Saturday running up and down the stairs hoping that I will time it just right before someone else comes along and tosses my clean, wet laundry onto a dirty, stained counter and I lose the machine, I have to figure out other means of wearing clean clothes.

Most often I will haul it down to my parent’s house in Olympia when I visit. WAY to reminiscent of college. I AM 26 YEARS OLD, PEOPLE. Yes, this saves me about $10 in quarters, but it’s honestly starting to become a little embarrassing. Stewart, seeing my stress this week about getting ready for our trip, generously offered for me to come over and do laundry at his place, where he conveniently has his very own stackable washer and dryer in his apartment. God that sounds glorious. So I caved, and lugged my basket of dirty clothes downstairs, into my car, over to his building, up the elevator and into his apartment. Does this sound like fun to anyone else? I’d much rather get my exercise at the gym.

As long as I continue to deal with this problem it still feels far too much like my college lifestyle. I am SO looking forward to the day when I can pick up my laundry basket and carry it 10 FEET into another room and do a load of laundry, at my leisure, at 11 p.m. When I can choose to wash ONE SWEATER if I want without wasting $3. When I can leave my laundry in the dryer without worrying that someone will toss it onto a detergent and lint covered table, causing me to do the load all over again. When I can throw a pair of jeans into the dryer just to remove wrinkles and tighten them up for a night on the town. It’s going to be absolutely amazing.

Pure Romance For Tara

Last weekend I was charged with hosting a crazy night-on-the-town bachelorette party for my good friend and bride-to-be, Tara Wooden, soon-to-be Tara Evans. To mix it up, I tried to combine a proper party with a risqué night on the town. That is, if you can consider a Pure Romance / Sex Toy Party “proper.”

But I mean, come on. After all, men have far raunchier parties that could lead to major catastrophes if things get out of control, so if the groom, Winston, gets to celebrate bachelordom’s end, I figured why shouldn’t the lovely bride, Tara, celebrate in a similar fashion? She’s rapidly approaching a major turning point in her life – which to me was every reason for her to spend an evening with her best friends for one last blast.

All Tara’s best gal pals met at my apartment around 6:30 p.m. for champagne, wine and appetizers before the “show” started. I had hired a woman from a company called Pure Romance to give a presentation on the products her company sells. And whether you’re engaged, attached or single, the Pure Romance catalog has something for every woman. And for this part of the evening, all the ladies were provided with an explanation of the products, and even a chance to taste, smell and touch them!

Afterward, we all got a chance to order what we wanted (did anyone get the Beginner Bondage Kit?) while Tara opened her gifts. We had a few more drinks and then headed out on the town!

I had reserved a room at Belltown Bistro, a swanky little restaurant / bar on First Avenue. Here the shenanigans really began. Drinks, shots, shooters, wonderful food and fabulous friends – all for Tara! At some point a few random guys joined our party and insisted that Tara participate in some “Crotch Shots.” Hmmm… See pictures for clarification. As the night got rowdier I managed to drink just a teensy bit too much and ended up going home slightly early in a cab with Jeanna. Tara rocked it out for a while longer before heading home to crash.

We all survived and had a fantastic time. I hope Tara’s bachelorette party was everything she dreamed it would be. I paid for it with the hangover of a lifetime, but it was all worth it to throw a fabulous bash for one of my best friends. Now we just have to get through the wedding!

A New Look!

Last night I got some help from a miracle worker and today I am sporting a brand new look - I now have shoulder-length, super-layered, tons-of-blond-highlights hair!! I figured it was about time that I moved away from the long, straight look I have been rocking since about the fourth grade. So I visited my friend Crystal at her salon, Michael's of Bellevue, and a few hours later I came out 11-inches of hair lighter and looking like a completely different person - and I love it!

Let me know what you think!

The American Way of Romance

A co-worker sent this to me this week and I found it so hilariously entertaining that I wanted to share it. Single girlfriends, read on… as we see below, sometimes we might just be setting our sights a tad too high…

The following exchange took place on a Craigslist New York message board on Sunday, October 14, 2007:

A Desperate Single Woman’s Question:
“What am I doing wrong? I’m tired of beating around the bush. I’m a beautiful (spectacularly beautiful) 25-year-old girl. I’m articulate and classy. I’m not from New York. I’m looking to get married to a guy who makes at least half a million a year. I know how that sounds, but keep in mind that a million a year is middle class in New York City, so I don’t think I’m over-reaching at all. Are there any guys who make 500K or more on this board? Any wives? Could you send me some tips? I dated a businessman who made around 200-250K. But that’s where I seem to hit a roadblock. $250,000 won’t get me to Central Park West. I know a woman in my yoga class who was married to an investment banker, and lives in Tribeca. She’s not as pretty as I am, nor is she a great genius. So what is she doing right? Here are my questions, specifically:

• Where do you single rich men hang out? Give me specifics – bars, restaurants, gyms.
• What are you looking for in a mate?
• Is there an age range I should be targeting?
• Why are some of the women living lavish lifestyles on the Upper East Side so plain? What’s the story there?
• Lawyers, investment bankers, doctors. How much do these guys really make? And where do the hedge fund guys hang out?
• How do you rich guys decide on marriage vs just a girlfriend? I am looking for MARRIAGE ONLY.”

An Investment Banker’s Response:
“I qualify as a guy who fits your bill – I make more than $500K per year. Here’s how I see it: Your office is a plain and simple crappy business deal. What you suggest is a simple trade: you bring your looks to the party and I bring my money. Fine, simple. But here’s the rub, your looks will fade and my money will likely continue into perpetuity – in fact, it is very likely that my income will increase, but it is an absolute certainty that you won’t be getting any more beautiful! So, in economic terms, you are a depreciating asset. In Wall Street terms, we’d call you a trading position – not a buy and hold. It doesn’t make good business sense to ‘buy you’ (which is what you’re asking) – so I’d rather lease. The deal that makes sense for me is dating, not marriage.”

Be careful ladies, or you too will be considered a “Depreciating Asset.”

Damn This Winter Wonderland!

Oh great. The National Weather Service has issued another winter storm warning for this week, and the DOT says that it might have to close the pass again because of a second expected storm. If this keeps up, I’m never going to get in enough practice to become a champion snowboarder this year!!

It’s Not Your Fault? Bogus.

I was shocked and appalled when I came across an article in The Seattle Times yesterday which stated that if people are overweight, they are not to blame. Instead, it is apparently the fault of food manufacturers and marketers, grocery-store managers, restaurant operators and food vendors – literally the people who make food visible, available and tasty. So don’t worry, all those extra pounds aren’t YOUR fault – it’s all those people who come into your home each evening at dinner time and literally SHOVE the food down your throat. You have no control, people!

Is this sounding ludicrous to anyone else?

Apparently, several recent studies, papers and a popular weight-loss book argue that eating is an automatic behavior triggered by environmental cues that most people are unaware of, or simply can’t ignore. Ah yes – my mind definitely does render me PHYSICALLY INCAPABLE of stuffing seven or eight mini candy bars from the front desk into my mouth each day. I am UNABLE TO RESIST – they are drawn into my fingers like a moth to a flame. But now I know it’s really not my fault and I should not be held accountable. I can now eat as much as I want and blame the downfall of my health on someone else. What a phenomenal concept! (Do you sense my dripping sarcasm?)

Accepting this “don’t blame me” notion seems like the biggest crock of shit I’ve heard of in years. But the theory that society – not us – is to blame for our expanding waist sizes is getting support from health and nutrition experts! They say that eating is an automatic behavior that has little to do with choice, willpower or even hunger. Oh yeah, those cave men didn’t kill Saber-Tooth Tigers because they were hungry and needed sustenance to survive, they did it because it looked so damn tasty they were unable to resist.

"The environment, I think, to a large extent explains the obesity epidemic," says Dr. Robert H. Eckel, a professor of medicine at the University of Colorado and past president of the American Heart Association. "But should we change the environment to alter the obesity epidemic? To blame it all on the environment is a mistake. There is individual responsibility." Finally, someone in this damn article is exhibiting some semblance of common sense!

Others however, seem completely idiotic. Take Dr. Deborah A. Cohen, a senior natural scientist at Rand Corp. and the author of a recent paper on the environmental theory of obesity. In her paper, she says people need protection from the "toxic environment" and calls on governments, communities and organizations to solve the obesity problem. She advocates downsizing portions, limiting access to ready-to-eat foods and curbing food advertising.

Oh my God, has our whole society turned into a bunch of five-year-olds who can’t resist shiny objects? You don’t HAVE to order the supersized French fries, or the all-you-can-eat pasta bowl. Do people honestly feel the need to have the GOVERNMENT regulate what each individual person chooses to eat each day? Will there now be Secret Service agents in bad suits and dark glasses in the back of McDonalds, snatching that double cheeseburger out of your hand when your calorie intake exceeds a certain limit? Or disconnecting your phone call to Pizza Hut when the total fat grams are deemed out of control for your order? COME ON.

I understand many people have difficulty maintaining their weight, and perhaps social pressures could slightly contribute to that. But have we really gotten to a point where people are refusing to take accountability for anything, including their own healthy lives and bodies? Are we really starting to blame our consumerism-driven society for our problems, as if we have no free will at all? If that is the case, I am seriously disturbed and sad.

Super Bowl Sunday - Go Giants!

I am personally always more of an underdog fan, so I was thrilled yesterday when the New York Giants upset the New England Patriots for a Super Bowl XLII victory! Although in my personal opinion, I think the Patriots cocky attitude jinxed themselves before the first kickoff.

After the final playoff game, The Boston Globe immediately started writing and promoting on Amazon.com a New England Patriots undefeated season book titled “19-0,” according to Editor Martin Baron. I agree with most Giants fans that the early planning for this book showed WAY too much overconfidence on the part of New Englanders, considering there was still one game to go. As of this afternoon, one could still visit Amazon.com and order a copy of the doomed book for only $10.17 – but comments on the site read something like, “I think I will order some my dog can piss on it!” Ha.

I admit that some things have to be planned ahead for, but come on. And ironically, yesterday the Patriots’ expected perfect season dreams came to an end, when the Giants ended New England's bid for perfection, 17-14. I’m guessing this nixed Boston’s pre-planned a Super Bowl victory parade.

But here some great news to come out of the whole situation. Jeanna, who works for World Vision, informed me that prior to game day, victory t-shirts and other apparel is printed for both teams, in preparation for either outcome. Obviously, only one set ends up being used. So this year millions of dollars worth of New England, incorrectly titled victory apparel will be sent to families in extreme poverty, due to the NFL’s partnership with World Vision. Instead of being destroyed, the shirts and caps are shipped to various countries where many residents have never owned clothing in their lives.

And honestly, if I were a player for the Patriots and knew that my loss benefited thousands of poverty-stricken people in third world countries, I don’t think I would be so upset about losing.

But hey, let’s still be realistic here – GO GIANTS!!

Meet the Parents

This year, for the first time, my boyfriend invited me to spend Christmas with his family at their house in Vancouver, WA. Unfortunately, Stewart’s dad and his wife got stuck in New York and didn’t make it back in time for Christmas, so the plans were canceled at the last minute. However, this weekend they made up for it by coming up to Seattle to spend some time with us.

Yep… I MET THE PARENTS! Scary, I know. It’s literally been years since I have been introduced to the family of the person I am dating, so it was a pretty big event for me. But even bigger for Stewart, I think, because he apparently has never introduced a girl to his family… ever! (He will be 27 this year).

So on Saturday Stewart’s dad, Russ and his wife, Patty, and Patty’s son, Patrick, met us at Sunset Bowl for a few games. It was a great ice breaker environment and I actually had a lot of fun after the initial awkwardness of, “Hi, I’m Sarah…” cheesy, uncomfortable smile, etc. We bowled two games and Stew’s dad and his wife are really great people. I felt comfortable around them almost immediately.

Afterward, we headed downtown to the Tap House Grill for dinner. Fantastic drinks, appetizers, entrees and desert combined with great conversation made for a really fun evening. And to top everything off, they had brought our belated Christmas gifts!

Overall the whole situation was much less stressful than I anticipated it being. I had a really good time and since Stewart and I have been together for almost a year now it was nice to know that he wants to include me in all the parts of his life. I can only hope that they had a good time and enjoyed meeting me as well. In any case, as Stewart said: “I think my dad is probably just surprised to find out that I’m not gay.” Oh Stewie.

The ILY Stage

So a couple months ago, sitting in my apartment with some friends, Jeanna informed me of a new term: the “ILY Stage.” I had no idea what it meant, so she had to explain that after about a year of being together, couples enter this phase – the “I Love You” stage. Interesting.

I feel like there is often so much pressure on people to say I love you. It’s assumed that after a certain amount of time passes, the phrase must be said or the relationship will inevitably fail or something. Personally, I am totally happy, secure and confident in my relationship and don’t feel the need to rush into saying something just because it is “expected.” However, I sometimes feel pressure from outside parties that make me feel like I am doing something wrong. People will ask me about my boyfriend, our relationship, etc. and then immediately jump to: “So, does he say he loves you?” Well, no.

And then I feel the need to make excuses. He’s never had a girlfriend before. He probably doesn’t feel like he needs to say it. He doesn’t really talk about his feelings that much. But then I start to second guess myself. Maybe the real reason is he doesn’t know if he loves me or not. What if he simply… doesn’t.

I find it unfair that the pressure of those three stupid words make me question my relationship, and how much my boyfriend cares about me. Because I firmly believe that he does care, very much. He shows me every day just by the way he treats me. And personally, if I had to choose, I would rather have him continue to demonstrate this by his actions, which mean so much more than words in the grand scheme of things.

I think expectations really just suck, and put too much pressure on things. For example, Valentine’s Day is coming up. Blech. Just the thought of it makes me want to puke. I hate the idea of a specific calendar date dictating what should be a romantic day filled with gifts, chocolate, kisses, love – God, how annoying. I don’t mean to be a pessimist or anything, but I just don’t see the point of celebrating for something that in my opinion is for no reason. It’s just a day, but it puts so much pressure on couples to give amazing gifts, do amazing things, show off roses received at work and cards received in the mail. I CAN’T TAKE THE PRESSURE!

Help.