taking the leap.

domain

My life’s predominant theme right now seems to be uncertainty. From major decisions [what kind of job do I want?] to minor ones [what shall I cook for dinner tonight?], I never seem to have the answers.

I dislike change – unless it’s a good change. Then I’m on board. Oh, I know you need the bad with the good or the good doesn’t seem so… good. But, dammit, it seems most of the change in my life recently has been bad. Trust me, powers-that-be, I will recognize the good and appreciate it enthusiastically! I promise!

In accordance with my recent life-theme [yes, I just make up words], I don’t know where this blog is going. Hell, I’m not even clear on my goals. [Oh man, I am not a goal-setter.] But despite my aimlessness and indecisiveness, my doubts and hesitation, as of today, I own whatsandrathinks.com. [FYI: I am warned it may be unreliable for up to 72 hours, but it is live for me.] I don’t know what made today the day. I guess I was in a leaping mood.

My unemployment [and therefore financial status] is somewhat limiting, so it is entirely possible that I have lost my mind incurring any expense, no matter how small. But this was a good change, I think. And I even made it all by myself!

The other piece of this is my decision to make whatsandrathinks an ‘award free’ blog.

Admit it – you’re sick of seeing how many different ways I can say how thankful I am to all of you for reading and enjoying my blog enough to honor me with awards. While I do truly appreciate the support and generosity, I would like to graciously leave those encouraging, motivational awards to new[er] bloggers.

Because I’m thoughtful beyond words, I’ll offer an alternative. Instead, I hope you’ll like and share and comment and reblog. [Doesn’t the world need to know ‘what sandra thinks’? Okay, ‘need’ may be a strong word…] And if you want to know 7 things about me, you need only ask. I’m an open book. Especially since I’m [mostly] anonymous.

I want to focus on my writing [of all kinds]. I do, however, need to share my time with my dreadful job search, to which I have committed a specific number of hours per week to preserve sanity and reduce guilt. Because, my God, I have been feeling incredibly guilty for every moment of not-job-searching. Even my fun wasn’t fun.

Of course, I will continue to be an annoying show-off whenever I earn a writing ‘prize’ – big or small [even if it’s for only 6 words]. And if you’re interested in hosting a ‘guest post’ on your blog, I would happily write one. On a topic of your choosing… or mine. Please drop me a note if you’d like to work something out.

I made a special little thank you… especially for you. Thanks for being here, for reading, and for recognizing me generously over the past four months.

Now, I must go. I have to finish my fiction friday post for tomorrow lest one of you kick my ass.

thanksfor
~

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limerick poetry challenge: happy

I’ve decided to participate in the Limerick Poetry Challenge at Mind and Live Matters. Not sure if I’ll do it every week – but I thought I’d give it a go.

Disclaimer: I’ve never written a limerick before.

This week’s prompt: happy

I drink too much coffee, some say.
I disagree, just five cups a day.
I’m addicted, it’s true.
I should cut down to two.
But my happiness wins so it stays.

♥ glyphicons-295-coffee-cup

Posted in challenge, poetry, writing | Tagged | 19 Comments

new year.

Nearly five days deep into 2016, I bet you thought you weren’t going to find out what sandra thinks about the New Year. And you were almost right. I wasn’t going to do it. No New Year post.

However.

I have caved.

I’ve read many blog posts over the last few days extolling the feelings of renewal and fresh starts that the New Year brings. I’ve encountered the words ‘hope’ and ‘goals’ and ‘reflection’ and [ugh… shoot me…] ‘resolutions’ more often in the last five days than one can sustain without risk of vomiting. I’ve seen lists of things people accomplished or experienced in the last year and lists of what they hope to accomplish in the new one.

This post isn’t going to be quite like those.

fireworks

A few days ago we slipped from 2015 to 2016. I barely remembered it was going to happen. And I barely noticed when it did.

John had been in his studio in the basement messing around with his guitar while waiting for the familiar ding of the clothes dryer. When it sounded, he rested the guitar aside, pulled out the laundry, grabbed the basket of clothes, and marched upstairs. He found me on our beloved red sofa, laptop on my lap, eyes jumping from television to laptop at irregular intervals.

I was online, typing madly, hoping to finish this post before midnight [for no special reason… an arbitrary deadline I imposed upon myself – why do I do that?]. But David Tennant sucked me in. [Sounds dirty but it’s not. Unfortunately.] The Doctor Who marathon stole away any inkling I may have had to track the minutes approaching midnight. Thank you BBC America. Love you!

davidtennant_tardisride

During one of the commercial breaks, I left John on the sofa to check on the kids. Sound asleep. Warm and cozy. I poured myself a glass of water and noticed the clock.

Hey, honey,’ I said to John as I returned to him and The Doctor. ‘It’s 12:02.

Oh.

A hug and a kiss and back to the Tardis. [Hmm, that rhymes. Consider this my tiny Doctor Who poem.]

And so it was 2016. Woo. Hoo.

Nothing changed. Nothing internal or external. No sense of rebirth… no sudden influx of hope for the future. No miraculous solutions or resolutions to anything. It was Thursday becoming Friday. Just like every other week.

I am a [mostly] rational adult. I knew a waterfall of hope and inspiration and motivation and answers was not going to magically rain down on me. But something did rain down on me. A flood of mistakes. A deluge of bad luck and unfortunate circumstances. Every major crisis currently playing out in my life splashed me in the face. A new year changes nothing.

It’s all on me, I know. Though I try and then try harder, I struggle to be positive [I know, stunning development]. Maybe, despite my seemingly cursed existence, 2016 will be the year of me. Maybe everything will turn around. Isn’t that what I’m supposed to think?

The fucked up thing is… every single damn year, I do start out thinking that! I’m going to kick last year in the ass and move on to a better year. I actually have these thoughts! I am totally, uncharacteristically optimistic! For about 5 minutes.

Really, this year has to be better than the last. But, of course, the truth is… no it doesn’t.

And… my brief connection to hope and optimism is severed. It all turns to shit so fast I miss the transition by blinking. But – I’m supposed to reflect and hope and plan and aspire! Instead, my brain conjures up every past failure, every past disappointment, every past crisis and tragedy, every enormous stroke of bad luck. It reminds me so vividly that I can only fear what fresh hell the New Year will hurl at me this time. I’d better duck.

However.

Before I jinx this New Year, I shall try to think about some goodness from last year. It can’t be all bad. [Wow, look at me being all positive-ish!]

My husband got a [small] raise at work.

My son earned a finalist spot in the whole-school spelling bee. Smarty pants.

My daughter gives me ‘best mom ever’ notes for no reason on random days. Adorable.

My father-in-law generously helped us afford the new roof our house desperately needed.

My mom is finally beginning to understand me better than she has in a very long time.

My hair looks beautiful.

My husband surprised me with a new printer when mine started to fail. [He even did enough research to save $30!]

I started this blog… and I met amazing people because of it. I hope you are all still reading and will continue to visit. It means more to me than I know how to express.

I discovered that I can write poetry. I mean, decent poetry.

I have gotten some wonderful, helpful, lovely feedback on my writing and my psychoses. [Because of all of you amazing people. Thank you, my dears.]

Special thanks to my top 5 commenters (per my Year-in-Blogging):
Lovely Turtle | The Turtle Way and Paul | wwwpalfitness and Wandering Soul and Tiegan | Harbour and Stephanie | stephellaneous

I made some wonderful, understanding, supportive friends through this site. [Thanks for putting up with me turtle!]

My old jeans fit.

Hmm… Look at that! I thought of twelve good things. I didn’t think I’d remember that many. Maybe things are finally looking up. Working on this positivity shit just might help me.

And hey, that new weekly feature is coming soon – the positive thinking one – the one I keep putting off. What is wrong with me that I put off the positive things and obsess over the negative ones? [Kind of a rhetorical question… pretty sure there’s no answer to that.]

I still won’t say “Happy New Year,” though, because I still don’t like the pressure for which it stands. Instead, I’ll just say…

New Year.

sparklergirl

 

 

 

 

xo ♥

Posted in anxiety, blogging, depression, list, personal, writing | Tagged , , , , , , | 29 Comments

six word story: accomplishment.

I hope everyone is having a wonderful new year so far…!

This week’s prompt for the Six Word Story challenge at Sometimes Stellar Storyteller is…

Accomplishment

My story is posted in the comments of the weekly Six Word Story Challenge post — if you like my story, please visit here and like it in the comments. The winner is the story with the most likes on her/his comment/story. And while you’re there, enter your own!

My story…

Fallen. But I will rise again.

xo ♥

 

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six-word thank you.

Just wanted to drop a quick post of thanks… in six words, I suppose would be appropriate… to those of you who have visited the Six Word Story Challenge at Sometimes Stellar Storyteller and voted for my six-word stories [you know, those tiny stories I like to write each week where the winner is the one with the most ‘likes’ in the comments over on Nicola’s blog?]……

Thank you for all the love. 

This week I won my third 3rd place award! I know it’s only six words [okay, times 3, so 18 words… ha!], but winning anything at all at any level for anything I’ve written means so much to me. Maybe one day, I’ll even get 2nd or 1st place! I have dreams, you know.

six word third.

If you’re interested and you haven’t seen these before… the stories that won were written for these prompts:

Memory  |  Believe  |  Resolution

~~~
Thank you again, all of you wonderful, lovely people. xo♥

Posted in award, blogging, challenge, writing | Tagged , , , | 3 Comments

fiction friday 6: roses are blue.

fiction friday.


fiction friday 6.
Sixth installment of…
roses-title-trans
  [But first: Blue 1 – Blue 2Blue 3 – Blue 4 – Blue 5]

Picking up where we left off…

Des sat on the sofa near Kate and pulled her hands from her face. She had to look at him. She didn’t know why, but seeing his eyes only made her tears fall faster. Alex told Des everything. Kate knew that. She saw it on Des’ face.

“Katie.” He spoke her name softly and pulled her into his arms. “I am so sorry I made you come here tonight,” he said, pulling her closer.

“God, it’s so not your fault, Des.” She took a deep breath and finally felt her tears slowing. She lifted her head from Des’ shoulder and slowly pulled away. Looking at his eyes again, she spoke softly. “Sorry, kid. I…” But he wouldn’t let her finish.

“Katie…” He took her face in his hands, gently wiping her remaining tears away with his thumbs. “Sorry for what?”

“I got your shirt all wet,” she said softly, touching his tee shirt on his damp shoulder. She finally cracked a little smile.

“It’s okay, hon.” He smiled for her, wanting to take all the pain away. “You’re okay.”

“I am?” Kate wasn’t sure.

“You are.” Still he held her face in his hands. “Do you want me to pound him?” He smiled. And he actually made her laugh.

“Oh, kid, he’s not worth it,” she said.

He leaned closer to her. “You’re right. He’s not.” Des kissed her forehead. “Tell me what you need. Anything…”

She parted her lips, but before she spoke a word, she saw Nat poke her head into the lounge. When Des saw Kate’s eyes wander, he slowly took his hands from her face and turned around.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Nat’s sarcasm was overly dramatic.

Before Kate could say anything, Des spoke. “I’ll be right there, Nat. Just give me two minutes.”

“Whatever,” she said. “I’m leaving. Just thought I’d let you know.” She sounded annoyed.

“Two minutes,” Des repeated sternly. He stared at her until she left. Once she was out of sight, Des turned back to Kate. He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Katie. Let me go deal with her. I’ll be right back.”

“It’s fine, Des. Really. I’ll be okay.”

“Dammit, cut that out.” He tried not to, but he smiled.

“Cut what out?”

“Stop trying to be so strong all by yourself. You know, you’re allowed to let me help you.”

“I know.” Kate put a hand on his arm and pushed him away. “Go. I’ll be right here. Hoping I don’t look as terrible as I feel.”

“You don’t.” Des stood from the sofa and turned to leave. But before he walked through the doorway, he turned back to her. She looked up and met his eyes. He smiled, stuck his tongue out at her, and disappeared out the door.

~

Kate sat alone on the sofa taking a few more deep breaths, hoping the teary-eyed look on her face would fade. She spent a long time working to convince herself that she was finished crying. She even began to think about returning to her friends. But before she could get herself to leave that sofa, Alex came over and sat with her again. He shyly touched her arm and smiled.

“You’re not mad at me, are you?” he asked. “For telling Des what happened, I mean.”

“No, I’m not.” She gave him a little smile. “Kind of glad you did… so I didn’t have to.”

“Are you okay?”

“I will be.” That was the best she could do just then. “What happened to Des? Still talking to Nat?”

“Uh… kind of…” Alex hesitated and looked away, but Kate wanted to know what was up.

“Alex, what?”

He turned back to her. “They’re having a bit of a fight. I didn’t hear much, but enough.”

“A fight about what?” Kate wondered. Alex looked away again, but she pulled him back to look at her. “Alex?”

“They’re fighting about you.”

“Me? Why?”

“She’s jealous.”

“Of me? What?”

“Kate, Des showed up tonight… with you. Then Nat found out you’re single. And this whole thing with Michael being here and Des rushing to you when I told him about it…”

“Des is my best friend. He always has been.”

“I know that. We all know that. Even Nat. But I guess it still bothers her. I think it always has.”

Kate shook her head. She could feel her tears returning. “It’s my fault,” she mumbled.

“Kate,” Alex sweetly took her hand. “Don’t think that. Nat’s a little… crazy.” He smiled and was happy to see that Kate did the same.

“Thanks, Alex. But I think I need to get out of here. Could you check if you can sneak me out?” Again, she wiped her eyes. “I’m kind of a mess. I want to go home.”

“You’re not a mess,” Alex said. “But yes, I’ll see what I can do. I’ll be back soon.”

Alex left her again. And again she was alone with her thoughts. Nat’s always been jealous of me? We’ve all been together… lots of times. I never realized I bothered her so much. Maybe a little, but not like this. Kate sighed and her mind replayed her earlier conversation with Des about Nat. She knew Des was going to end things with her. God, is it my fault? Did I destroy their relationship?

Kate stood from the sofa and peeked through the doorway. She saw Des with Nat by the stairs. Kate had no idea what they were saying, but she could read Des’ body language like a neon sign. His gestures were intense – running his fingers through his hair, shaking his head in exasperation. Kate knew what all of those things meant. She knew exactly how he felt. And she wondered if he was ending it with Nat at that very moment. And if he was, she felt responsible.

Kate backed away from the door and sat back down on the sofa. She felt terrible. And where was Alex? She had to get out of there.

When she saw a shadow in the doorway, she looked up from her lap expecting Alex. But it wasn’t him.

“Des,” she stood and met him halfway. “I’m sorry.”

“Katie… for what?”

“Alex told me you and Nat were fighting.”

“I swear,” Des said, shaking his head again. “He has such a big mouth.”

Kate tried to laugh. “Don’t be upset with him. It’s my fault.”

“No, Katie,” Des took her hand. “It’s not.”

“Des, go talk to her. I’m okay. Alex is going to walk me out.”

“No, he’s not.”

She looked at Des with confusion. “But I…”

“He told me you asked him to do that. I told him not to.”

“God, he does have a big mouth.” She tried to smile, but she only got halfway there.

“Katie.” Des lifted his hand to her shoulder. “I don’t want you thinking that this stuff with Nat and me is your fault. It’s not. She’s being ridiculous. I came here with you tonight. Not with her.”

“But the fight was about me, wasn’t it?” She knew it was.

“She insists that I have to make a choice. You know, because you’re single now.”

“Des, that’s crazy.”

“That’s what I told her. Please, Katie, don’t worry about it. God, you’ve got enough on your mind.” His hand slid around her shoulder to her back and he pulled her to him. He gave her a squeeze and held her there for a moment before letting her go. “Come on,” he cracked a little smile. “I’ll take you home.”

“What about Nat?” Was she waiting? Did they end it?

“She’s gone,” Des said. Kate wasn’t sure if his words meant more than the obvious, but she let it go. She wanted to go home.

lights-street

Kate stared out the window in silence as Des drove. Even when he pulled up to her building, she still stared blankly, anxious and upset. She tried so hard not to cry, but she only gave herself a headache. And all her effort was for nothing. A few tears fell anyway. The moment Des parked, she reached for the door handle and spoke without even looking at him.

“Thanks, kid. I’m sorry about Nat. I’ll talk to you later.” Before she could push the door open, he grabbed her arm.

“Katie? Wait. Look at me.”

She lifted her hand and covered her eyes. “Des, please. Just let me go.”

“No.” He took other arm, uncovering her face. Kate finally turned to him. “You’re crying,” he said.

“No, I’m fine,” she lied. “Please, Des. Let me go. I don’t want you to see me like this.”

He let one of her arms go, but he wouldn’t release the other. “Like what? God, honey, I’ve seen you cry. I’ve seen everything with you… our whole lives.”

“It’s just… different. I don’t know… I can’t explain it.” She took a deep breath but it did nothing to calm her. “Des. I’m going to completely fall apart in about two minutes, and I’d really rather do that alone.” She freed her arm from Des’ grip and pushed the car door open.

Kate stepped outside, pushed the door closed, and rushed inside. Two minutes turned out to be an overestimation. She was already falling apart. Hurrying toward her apartment door, she fumbled through her bag fishing for her keys. Her tears fell faster by the time she reached her door making it even more difficult to function… and to find her keys. Exhausted and frustrated, she let out a long sigh.

When she heard footsteps approaching, she stopped trying to find her keys and looked down the hallway.

And she found Des walking straight toward her.

~~

You just read Fiction Friday: Roses Are Blue #6. Also available:
Blue 1 | Blue 2 | Blue 3 | Blue 4 | Blue 5 ||| Blue 7 | Blue 8 | Blue 9 | Blue 10 | Blue 11
©2015 what sandra thinks
Posted in blogging, fiction, fiction friday, love, romance, writing | Tagged , , , , , , | 27 Comments

how I met their father. part 4.

Previous installments: 
Part 1 – Fame
Part 2 – Sandra Goes Wild
Part 3 – Sandra Grows Up… and Down

Part 4 – Uncomfortably Numb

sadness

By the time John contacted me, I was a cynical, bitter, hopeless twenty-something. I had given up on love… on happiness. I was miserable. I was in therapy. [Which was nothing more than some dude sitting there while I yammered on about how I was afraid I would be alone forever and if I just had someone to love – and someone who loved me back – I’d be all better. Yes, I really believed that. God, I was so stupid.]

But from his email, John seemed like a decent guy. So despite the extremely negative attitude I had by this point, I figured I should meet him. I guess I still had some hope buried deep inside me somewhere. Probably down at my toes or something.

I sent John my phone number. And he called. We had a nice conversation. It wasn’t earthshattering in a good way or a bad way. But I was okay with him calling me again, which he said he would do so we could make plans to meet.

Days. And days. And more days.

Well, fuck. Another lying jerk. Shocking.

It was a cold Saturday afternoon in February… one week before dreaded Valentine’s Day. I’d been lazing around most of the day, disinterested in seeing anyone or going anywhere or even changing out of those sweatpants. When the phone rang, I didn’t feel like answering, but I did, expecting my mom.

Hi. It’s John.

Well, fuck. When he said he’d call me again, did he really mean almost two weeks later? Because I was certain he was gone for good before we even met.

I’m so sorry it took so long for me to call you. I woke up so sick the day after we first talked. I haven’t been to work since. I’ve barely been out of bed.

That’s okay. I did kind of think I’d never hear from you again…

I was afraid you were going to think that. I’m sorry.

No, really, we haven’t even met. Don’t worry about it.

Did I believe him about his illness? I don’t know, but I had no reason not to. I let it slide and he asked me if I wanted to meet for dinner.

Because I’m a masochist, I agreed.

Deep breath. Okay, here we go again.

I sat at the bar waiting for my soda. Yeah, just a soda. I wanted to be in full control of my [few] inhibitions. As is to be expected, the moment I took a sip of my soda, and therefore had a mouthful, a guy walked up to the bar and spoke my name. I was mildly startled and almost choked.

Once I managed to swallow, I confirmed my identity… and his. So this was John.

Tall-ish. In my dreams, he’d have been taller.

Dark hair. In my dreams, he’d have had more of it.

Not a bad looking guy. In my dreams, he’d have been drop-dead gorgeous.

I didn’t have a feeling. I didn’t have a racing heart or a flustered head or a stirring in any other part of me. Maybe I had succeeded in making myself numb. Or maybe it just wasn’t magic. I figured I was never going to get the magic. Which made me sad… disappointed. And that wasn’t entirely about him. I think most of that was about me.

I’ve always been a romantic. For as long as I can remember, I’ve dreamt of that perfect beautiful man who makes me melt the moment I lay eyes on him. The man who makes me fall in love the moment I know him. The man who makes my heart race whenever he walks into the room. The man who falls madly in love with every single thing about me, even the things I hate about me. The man who makes me feel like nothing is missing anymore.

I spent so long building up this imaginary perfect man… this perfect feeling… this perfect love. I became almost obsessed with it. And no man, no emotion could live up to any of it. Yet I still dreamt of it… still wanted it.

But life is not a fairy tale. My life is not a fairy tale. I had to stop waiting for one to materialize. I knew it was never going to happen.

castledoor

John and I had a nice night. We had dinner and we went for a walk in the city. He seemed to really like me which amazed me because I was hopelessly bitter. I may have even been a little bitchy. Not toward him. But I know I was not my charming self. My attitude sucked. How could he be so nice to me? I didn’t deserve it. Maybe that was what endeared him to me. He saw something in me that must have been very well-hidden. I’m not sure how he found it.

I let him drive me home. I invited him in and leaned on him while we watched Saturday Night Live. It felt good having him there. And I couldn’t believe he was still with me. Maybe I wasn’t quite the moody bitch I thought I was. Or maybe he was as desperate to stop being alone as I was. [I would later discover that there was some truth to this.]

Kissing happened. And a little bit of curious touching. But it was late. And I didn’t want another strictly physical involvement. Not that he was necessarily pushing for it. In fact, I got the impression he didn’t want to go too fast either. I could already tell he didn’t just fool around. He was a relationship guy. And that’s what I wanted.

Wasn’t it?


Part 5 – What is Love?
[Cue Howard Jones.]

Coming soon.

Update – now posted:
Part 5 – What is Love?
Part 6 – The Love of Romance
Part 7 – Let’s Go to Bed (the final chapter)

Posted in depression, love, personal, relationships, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , | 22 Comments

internet famous.

internetfamous

I’m not really internet famous… but Grizz thinks I am.

Today… this happened…

followers

I won’t lie — I knew I was close and I’ve been checking every day. I thought it would be lovely if I reached this milestone before the year ended… and tonight, I did. [Okay, technically yesterday since it’s after midnight here…]

Of course, I realize anyone could unfollow me at any time so that number could drop. But I still reached it! And I’m kind of amazed. My personal crap, my life stories, my fiction, and, God, even my poetry — Is it really entertaining? Most days, I still can’t believe that. [Then some days, I’m oddly cocky and think I’m pretty awesome with words…]

Whatever makes you visit… and revisit — thanks for being here. [And please do tell me what keeps you coming back — it matters to me!]

thankyou

xo♥

Posted in blogging, milestone, writing | Tagged , , , | 32 Comments