Sasha Darling & The BellJar Blog — Uncategorized

It's Saturday night, and I'm sitting at home half staring at an AMC marathon about gun slinging men that go on killing sprees and take their ladies along for the ride. It started with Bonnie and Clyde which inspired my last post in-between cooking my killer, vegi chili. Then Badlands starring extraordinarily creepy, Sissy Spacek and an incredibly hot, young Martin Sheen. Now it's the old classic Gun Crazy. I have only been half paying attention as I do little things around the house...that's mostly how I watch T.V. I have ADD and cant focus on anything long enough to truly absorb any deep meanings or message, but what I have surmised from 6 hours of bang bang and passionate kissing is, some chicks adore their dudes so much, that they will follow them around the country killing. I know to some of you, this might not sound too profound, but to me it's so completely baffling, that it's leading me to an existential crisis. You can ask any of my exes...they could hardly get me to follow them down the block for ice-cream. They certainly could not get me to run around the country on a killing spree. I mean killing just goes against the basic nature of a girl, so what kind of action could a guy offer, to get a girl to run around shooting people? Not that I want to kill anyone, but I would like to know what it feels like to be so passionate about a person, that I would actually kill for them. Sometimes I feel as if I'm just so totally detached and separated from the rest of the world. I mean I have felt a lot of emotions around relationships. Things like frustration, anger, annoyance, jealousy, lust, abandonment, insecurity, detachment, indifference, heartbreak, loss, comfort, boredom. But these things aren't love. They are the antithesis of love. They are the destroyers of love. I wonder if a younger Sasha had passionate real love? Maybe I just somehow blocked it from my memory in order to deal with the fact that I'm emotionally handicapped at this point. I see couples walking down the street nuzzling there noses in each-others necks, holding hands and giggling and I think, I want THAT...but somehow I'm just incapable of dealing with THAT. Even when I was married, my husband accused me constantly of being cold, unaffectionate, hiding behind work in order to not have to deal with my feelings.I thought that the year leading up to the store and what came after was going to be the cure all to my issues. I would focus on myself and what makes me happy and then I would be able to make someone else happy, but instead I have just become even more self focussed and distant. I'm even more obsessed with work, less able to open up and almost completely paralyzed by being out socially. I'm fine when I'm at the shop, or with close friends, but at other social events, inside I am silently screaming and dying to just get out and go home. For those of you that know me socially, or even those of you that know me through the store, this will seem shocking as I am so warm and cheerful, but thats's because we are not lovers. With my lovers I am left feeling cold and empty, bereft. And only when I'm in a situation that is familiar, do I feel at ease. All of this has been even more amplified lately because I have not been drinking. The great lubricator has been unavailable to me, so I'm left to sit here and contemplate how I have never met a guy I would kill for. I really should just go out...but I just don't want to. I want to stay home and cook and talk and chain smoke. How come no-one in San Francisco cooks anymore? How come nobody has dinner parties or wears high heels and real french perfume? How come I'm not surrounded by suspender clad boys that write deep, meaningful passages and like to eat bloody, rare steaks and a good baked potato? How come we all can't just sit around my fireplace, while some bearded guy plays the guitar like my parents used to do? Let's just all go back...back to the beginning.

Back in the late 90's after I shed my hardcore rockabilly look I went through a Faye Dunaway as Bonnie Look. 30's ala 70's. Loads of fedoras, floppy brimmed hats and berets stylishly sat on my head. Neck scarves and argyle adorned my look. Knee length skirts and buckle shoes to finish it off. It was a good look and that was a great fall. Reading all the style magazines I have noticed a lot of those clean classic lines are back...and for fall camel is making a big comeback. I have always loved camel. So I think I will revive this classic look once again, but this time just focus on Fayes over all effortless style and not just the Bonnie period. You can't argue that that lady always had amazing style!

When I was was 22 a dated a guy named Travis that was 35. My mother who was 47 was also dating a guy who was 35. She always tended to skew younger in her men when she was in her 40's. My father was 12 years older then her...and they met when she was 18, but after they split and she was sent back to the dating pool...younger seemed to be the trend. When I was in my 20's, I didn't even consider dating someone younger and very rarely anyone my own age. I had one on and off again beau who was my age. He was like the only guy in my age bracket that I felt passionately obsessed with. I mean there were times that I felt like I would die of we did not end up together. In a strange way we have. We are still best of friends and after nearly 12 years of on and off dating he is like family. Thing is...he is my age now...and I don't feel the slightest urge to kiss him. I think how great it would be if I still did, but sadly I just don't. The first relationship I had after being divorced, (to a guy my same age) was with someone 12 years younger then me. At the time it seemed like a really great idea. I had been with the same person for so long and had gone through so much pain and heartache, the fun and adventure of someone younger was exactly what I needed to get myself back into living again. But of course there were challenges around the relationship: life experience, expectations and mostly my inability to hang out and continue on with the party. I'm really kind of a home body at this point. I'm cool with hanging for an hour or so...and totally don't care if you stay out till 4 am...but when it's time for me to go, it's time for me to go! So my first venture in to younger dating, in the end proved somewhat disastrous. Lately every guy that asks me out out is anywhere from 5 to 13 years younger than me. Sometimes I fool myself into thinking it's no big deal, I mean look at Demi and Ashton. But then again there are reports all over the tabloids of his infidelities with younger girls and her insecurity over her age. I just don't know if it's supposed to work that way....women are supposed to be the shiny prize, the arm candy, the flashy thing that men are stumbling over themselves to win or capture. I'm not saying for a fleeting moment an older woman can not be that for a younger guy. But ultimately I'm afraid it will be just that. Fleeting. An older womans knowledge, experience & success will not mix well with younger guys carefree, flighty and idealistic lifestyle. Finding common ground with age gaps is also an area that causes problems. While on a date recently my dinner companion did not know who Joy Division was and recalled that New Order was some band his mom liked. While there was only and 8 year gap, there may as well have been 30 year difference. I could never date a person who did not know Joy Division. Not even someone my own age. So then I think about dating older, but that put's guys in there late 30's and 40's...and I just can't seem to wrap my head around that. How could someone in their 40's be in my dating pool? My dad passed when he was 50...and he is forever immortalized as a 40 year old in my brain. I can't date guys in my Dad's age bracket? It just feels so weird. So I was at the gym today, and this super hott guy with silver hair kept checking me out. He looked like he could be my age but just prematurely graying. But he also may have been in his mid 40's. But just super handsome all around. It's so strange when guys hit on me at the gym. I mean i just rolled out of bed, in gross work out clothes, hair pulled back and the only make-up present is remnants from the day before. But hell, if you think I look cute like that, just wait till you see me all dolled up. Anyway on the way in we ended up on the elevator together and he was smiling and trying to say something but I had my I-pod on and chose to just ignore him with a slight smile. For the next 1.5 hours I kept seeing him work out near me and sneaking glances and exchanging smiles. Of course, as I tried to sneak out, he ran for the elevator and rode down with me on my way out. Once again I-Pod on too loud to talk. He gestured for me to take my earphones off. I reluctantly obliged. He made some small talk about how we keep running into each-other and then asked me if I always came to the gym first thing in the morning. Blah blah blah. When we got to the parking lot I could tell he wanted to ask for my number and I kinda got weird and tried to runaway. As I rushed off he called after me, see you tomorrow at 8? We can work out together! I kind of nodded yes and ran off. SO my first thought driving home was great, now I can't go the gym in the morning...but then I started thinking about old movie stars that I loved as a child. Carey Grant, Marlon Brando, Paul Newman, Montgomery Clift. Now these were men. Real men. Mans men! And then I start thinking about how fun, but fleeting, with no real connection all my dates have been with younger guys and I think...what do I have to loose. I mean when I imagine my life as a grown-up, I see myself standing with this archetype. The man...not the boy. I just for some reason have a hard time accepting or seeing myself as a grown up. I'm still just a silly, awkward sixteen year old girl playing dress up in her moms clothes trying to look older. I'm still just a 23 year old art student, flirting with all the cute boys in class, trying to figure it all out. It's so ironic that someone that has so much responsibility in her life has such a hard time recognizing that she is grown up. That grown up life I always dreamed about...well it's here. I have it. Now I just need to find that movie star good looking leading man to share it with. Maybe he will be at the gym tomorrow at 8 am.