Ministering Angels
Thursday, October 27, 2005
You can't cross the sea merely by standing and staring at the water...Laurence J. Peter
By Sarita
Honestly....what's with the staring? Perhaps my childhood was so engulfed by girls and girly ways that this is something that I just. can't. grasp. I am the first to admit that I don't understand men. I blame it on the fact that I have lots of sisters, no brothers, and was the biggest homebody ever growing up. My parents thought I didn't have any friends. Which isn't true. I just didn't care about going out on a Friday night. And so I wasn't all that active in my formative dating years. Looking back, I completely sabotaged opportunities to date. Not purposely. It was just my ignorance. What? You want to go get something to eat? And you want me to come? Why?
Anyhow. The staring. Not that I turn every guys head, but their is a sufficient amount of staring to warrant a pattern. I think I have mentioned this before. Over the years, I have learned that this can indicate possible interest, and so I *sigh* make eye contact, smile, etc, etc. And they continue to stare. Sometimes I will even approach them and introduce myself, have a decent getting to know you conversation, even flirt a tad. And then they go back to the staring and pretending that they have never spoken to me before. Is this just all in my head?
What's more is that the starer is more often than not much older than myself (which I kinda understand....creepy, but understandable) or married. Take today for instance. Some men came into my office to fix the over head speakers. One of them was young, attractive, and stared like crazy. I didn't mind so much seeing that I mentioned that he was attractive before. I didn't throw myself at him or anything. But smiled when we made eye contact. Took it as a compliment, etc. Went about my work, he continued his....with the speakers and the staring. And then I saw it. He turns to reach for something with his left hand, and there it is. Un mistakable. A wedding ring. This is a far too common occurrence.
Let me just tell you, I am fully sympathetic to the fact that guys do this. Some may even say it is their nature. And even when spoken for and committed to someone else, they are human and notice other women. But sometimes it is so incessant that I have to wonder.
And while I have always been vaguely aware of and frustrated by this all stare-no action behavior, I wasted not my time considering it. Until this past Sunday. A good friend accompanied me to my ward. And let me premise this by explaining that she is quite the looker. Just a plain attractive person. Slightly better figure than myself as well. I received quite the education walking a few steps behind her down the hall. EVERY guy had their eyes glued to her. I'm talking multiple 180's here. It was blatant. And everyone. I've never seen anything like it. To their credit, a few actually spoke actual words to us. Which was new to me.
So I have been painfully aware of this male tendency ever since, and have noticed a great phenomenon. Maybe I am behind the times, but it seems that all the staring seems to be pointed in the direction of the girls with overprocessed hair, layers of makeup.....the clothes, everything screaming high maintenance. Even from guys that openly profess that they either don't find that attractive or are not looking for that type of girl. And I'm no earthy, all natural girl either. My roommate would probably consider me high maintenance. I would say moderate....so these girls are the real deal. And the men stand and stare, some with gaping mouths, none of them blinking, a few of them drooling.
Color me perplexed.
Thursday, October 13, 2005
Where have all the cowboys gone?
By Sarita
I know, I know, it's pathetic that I have fallen to such a cliche-ey cheesy song to describe my angst. But it's how I feel at the moment, so run with me on this one.
While making a very concerted effort to be uber productive today, resulting in reading a bunch of random blogs, I recalled something that was said to me circa April 2004-ish. I was living in my hometown in the good old Nevadan desert and speaking to my bishop about my decision to move to Utah for a time. Now, my explanation for leaving had everything to do with education and independence and getting out of the rut that returning from a mission had thrown me into (and I fully embraced for that matter). Bishop's response was the following:
"You know Sarah, I remember my father telling me something when I was a young man.....
'Boy ( because that is what he called me) Boy, if you're going to shoot a deer, don't go to the desert, go to the mountains'."
"I'm glad your leaving the desert sister, because you'll find a lot more deer in those mountains."
Now, let's first address the issue that I wasn't moving to fill my dance card. And I wasn't some caging girl in date desperation either. Yes, I was a little frustrated with the 'menu' items where I was, but my motivation for moving had nothing to do with the 'game' to be had on the other side. In fact just the opposite. While I have progressed in recent years, the idea of dating anyone terrified me at the time.
Secondly, though I find the analogy slightly amusing, it saddens me to have the whole dating process reduced to a quest after......meat.
So back to the cowboys....yes, they may herd cattle, but I think that's as far as the involvement with livestock should go. All I want is a good old fashioned cowboy who does not like country music, can rough it and yet appreciate my quirky obsessions dealing with a wide range of intellectual stuff. Yes, stuff that is intellectual. And big words. Even if I do use them out of context. Big whoop.
And the mere suggestion that I want a cowboy who acts slightly older than 14 and has interests expanding past that of video games should have you feeling my forehead...and it must be hot, not because of my undeniable good looks that I may or may not possess (it's up for debate) but because I grew up in a hick town that succeeded in swearing me off of anything that slightly resembled a cowboy for the remainder of my life.
So today I was speaking to one of my patients ( I shouldn't say 'my' as my work is nothing clinical in nature, but they are after all patients) who had a baby 6 weeks ago. While I held her baby she questioned why I didn't have any of my own. I explained that there was something or someone that needed to come first and she started laying into me about how I can't just go for the "guapo" ones, because it's more important that they are good than guapo. Like I never hear this. And why does everyone think that this is my problem. #1 my dating 'pool' is very shallow and not very crowded. #2 Either it's there or it isn't. Yes, I can stick it out casually to see if something develops eventually, but I'm not going to pursue it if there is nothing there. Even if he is a Steston man.
Color me frustrated. And yes, I am fully aware that it just might be entirely my own fault.
Thursday, October 06, 2005
Back by not so popular demand....
By Sarita
So, it looks like we've had a little truancy problem here. Happens. Don't blame me. And do you expect me to maintain all by my lonesome? I have a life (sort of...Depends on weather or not my 9-5 work schedule and evenings centered around running and TV programs such as Lost would be considered a life). So really, I have nothing particularly intriguing to share, and hereby claim myself innocent of any boredom that is ensued by the following content of this post.
Okay. I work with a lot of Spanish speaking patients. That's all I'm saying. Because apparently there should some measure of discretion in regards to revealing information about your personal life. I don't fully understand this idea as I really have nothing to hide, but for the sake of assuming that I am a normal functioning adult in the real world.....I work with a lot of Spanish speaking patients. Pregnant ones. Okay. That's all I'm saying.
The other day, the 2 year old daughter of one of these Spanish speaking patients points to a picture on my office wall of my nieces and asks if they are my babies. (Okay imagine her as being incredibly cute and saying this all in Spanish...Makes it much more interesting.) I reply no, she continues:
cute little Hispanic girl: "Tienes bebes"....do you have babies?
me: "No"....no.
cute little hispanic girl: "Por que?"....why?
me: "Porque necessito esposo primero".....because I need a husband first.
cute little hispanic girl: "Por que"....why?
me: "Porque"....because.
Okay so maybe you had to be there.
So also at work, there is this cafeteria (that's all the information I'm disclosing, I swear.) And there is this Argentinean chef there. I happened to recognize his accent one day and talked to him about his homeland.....which has induced conversations like this:
Argentinean: "Que quieres hoy?".....what would you like today?
me: "Quiero el...salmon? y como se dice...carrots? Zanaorias?" .....salmon and carrots (in short)
Argentinean: "di lo asi...zan-a-or-ias.".....say it like this zan-a-or-ias.
me: "Zan-a-or-ias"
Argentinean: "Suena como...suena sexy".....sounds like...sexy.
So how exactly am I supposed to respond to that, (with others waiting in line behind me) besides turning unavoidably red and muttering "gracias" and running away.
My co-worker made the observation that "Tisk, the old guys always be flirtin with Sarah."
The thing is it's true. There's this stipulation that one must be 35+, possibly married, and usually a tad bit creepy in order to flirt with Sarah. The upside being that she occasionally gets free drinks at various seedy restaurant establishments...and nearly always at hole-in-the-wall Mexican ones. But that's the Spanish I be speaking to them. I guess one might say that I be workin' it. Is that a bad thing to take advantage of? C'mon. A girls got to get attention where she can find it.
*some incidents and commentary in the above post may be slightly exaggerated in the interest of....well....interest.
*the author of this post promises to post again with possibly more interesting material. But no promises will be made at this juncture.