Big Country Blues Trailer

Big Country Blues Trailer
Sarah e Jacobs recognized as OUTSTANDING ACTRESS IN A DRAMA SERIES at LA Webfest! And nominated for BEST ACTRESS IN A DRAMA at ITVFest! Click to watch the trailer!

Wednesday, August 14, 2013

Back in the Swing of Things

In my obnoxious dedication to honesty, I come at you with humbling news. Friends, In part because of some conclusions I've drawn in the past months and in part because of my living in Bravery in 2013 ...I have...well...joined

*Insert gasp here

People keep saying that I shouldn't be so forthcoming with this info, but hell, my damn picture is on the site alongside a million other single New Yorkers. It is what it is.

So needless to say, I've been dating. Sort of a lot. And all I can say is - I'm winded. Beaten down by the barrage of douchbaggery and nuttiness. I dodge men old enough to be my Father, e. e. Cummings poems, sugar daddy offers, and inappropriate suggestions. I've sat across from the awesomely awkward to the annoyingly confident. I've met finance fools and film making fellows. I've had more muddled cucumber cocktails than I care to admit. And I've found myself in way too many life-assessing conversations than can possibly be good for the soul. ...Y'all. I'm effing tired.

BUT, not for nuthin', I have learned some things in this month of hard core online operating.
  1. People are nuts. Just off the charts bananas.
  2. Everyone Likes Traveling. And laughing. And working hard. And playing harder. And eating out. And eating in. And drinking with friends... Duh. Seriously. Duh. Originality is not something to be taken lightly, as it clearly doesn't come easily to most.
  3. People are judgmental. Quick to project their shortcomings onto others.
  4. People are scared. Most actions are dictated by fear. Things as simple as a text become complex, fear driven psychological studies.
  5. People show you what they mean. Actions matter. Not words. Words are too specific. Too honest. And people are (again with the fear) afraid of honesty.
  6. It is very easy to tell why some people are still single. Just glaringly obvious.
  7. Going on a dating rampage is not conducive to staying sane. Not even a little.
  8. People are incredibly breakable. And once you hit a certain age, everyone has been broken.
These are truths. Some are self-truths. And some are shards of personalities I've collected during conversations in dimly lit bars that leave bits and pieces of myself with near strangers. Experiences I've amassed while catching darting eyes staring at my chest.

Because of the nature of online dating, I've found the conversation topics delve deep rather quickly. And the truth is, I'd much rather talk about the good stuff than the humdrum and banal silence fillers that are within the usual rules of first date topics. I love finding myself in some winding, late night conversation that takes odd overgrown paths. It's fun.

(Disclaimer! Prepare for an ActingLikeSarah rant. It's been a while...) However, what's not fun is when I find myself in some conversation side-stepping asshole, condescending comments and defending myself against attacks of haughty know-it-allness. When asking questions and saying "I don't know" are treated like an admission of idiocy. God forbid we should actually learn from each other! It's a problem I know all too well. And it's usually done under the all too popular guise of the word, “banter.” Newsflash my oh so Manly Men of Little Mystery: That's. Not. Banter! Nope! Banter is teamwork. Banter is inclusive, not exclusive. It doesn't pit one person's intellect against another with the goal of annihilation. It doesn't test or poke. It accepts. Like improv, it says “yes, and...”

Ugh. Now that I've got that off my chest, you all can stop staring at it...

Men love to speak to me like a first grader with a learning disability (hope you weren't reading this for political correctness). It's a fact of life that I've come to occasionally use to my advantage (amazing how many people respond to feeling smart, forget about actually being smart). But, for God's sake, it wears on me! And right now, my usual snappy, confident self is feeling a bit beaten down. I've been surrounded by a little too much negative energy. I've been a little lost. Metaphorically.

Snapped from my usual route. ...but I went left instead of right.
And so in an attempt to find my way back to me, on a morning run after a particularly rough night last week, I allowed myself to get straight stolen by my runaway legs. I abandoned my usual route for an impromptu mini urban adventure. And I allowed myself to get lost, literally. Physically.

Somewhere in South Brooklyn I found my hips firmly planted in between the chains of a swing. (I swing fairly often these days at a playground by my apartment. It's where I get in my zen-zone. Some chicks do yoga, but I never could find my third eye.)

A girl, probably 8 years old, plopped down on the swing next to mine. Her Medusa braids going in every direction. She smiled at me as I moved back and forth past her- a bit of a pity smile. I'm old, and on a swing set. ...Thanks, Kid.

She started to move. Slowly gaining momentum, pumping until her swing matched my swing. We pushed our legs harder and stayed in perfect matching velocity. Peaking and sinking at the same time. She laughed loudly, I could hear her through the music in my earbud. We continued for longer than it should have been fun. Finally, we slowed to a stop. I de-earbudded.
She was dressed in a unitard. The kind with the shorts.
“Are you a gymnast?” I asked her.
“Oh,” I was surprised.
“I just like this outfit.” She looked down at her ensemble and proudly, yet clumsily pulled the legs of her shorts down to smooth out the patterned fabric. “This thing is the coolest,” she said smiling without looking up.
I couldn't argue with her there. The swirling red, white and blue motif conjured up images of a determined Shannon Miller circa '96. The little girl looked damn good. She jumped off the swing and stuck the landing. Skipped off to meet her Dad and little brother on the other side of the playground. A shining beacon of bravado somewhere in South Brooklyn...

On my run back, it started to rain. Fat drops. Cumbersome. Summer thunder rumbled in the distance. I guessed directions, weaved my way through the streets, the confident little non-gymnast on the forefront of my mind. She reminded me of the usual me. The me that's under the belief that being flawed and human is simply, “the coolest.”

Eventually, I found my way home. After a solid hour of running through the rain I entered the door to my busted Brooklyn apartment, my head cleared with the passing clouds. It turns out you have to lose yourself every now and again to appreciate the comfort of finding yourself at home in your own skin.

I've cancelled my Match membership. I have one month left, and that's fine. I'm back to “I'mma do Me” mode. I like it best. And I'm going to try to remember that it's kind of amazing to sit opposite a stranger, aware of all that you offer and all that you are, and to accept it - shortcomings and faults, quirks and crazy. And I'll ask more questions. I'll not be afraid of the sound of the words “I don't know”. I'll play in “not knowing” like a pig in shit. Throw around “I don't knows” like Weiner does sexts. Just willy-nilly like, without regard for consequence. Eff it. After all, I've found that the most interesting people are, in fact, the most inquisitive ones.

Floating amid the chaos of this city, with people in perpetual protect-mode is taxing. Not to mention auditioning day after day, being dismissed for things as trivial as hair color, nail shape, or which word I happen to inflect adds to the madness. Being a single NY girl, walking with palms open is to leave yourself susceptible. So I guess it's okay to get lost, because I do always find my way back. Adjust, and match that little girl's swagger. Sync with her swing.

As I sat down to work on this post, I made myself some potent lemon detox tea (health freak alert). I tore open the packets, and was faced with this:
...subtle. :)

Ok world.
I hear you.

1 comment:

  1. It's good to get lost on purpose, wander off the daily intinerary and see what epiphanies come to you.