I am starting this again!

Happy Christmas Eve!

I started this blog last December and my goal was to do one post a week, well I didn't do that so I am going to try and do it in 2012!

Wish me luck, random strangers.

Bitchen' Birthday Blog

Ever since I have moved out of my parent's house, my birthdays have been sour and sweet.

All I remember about my 20th birthday is that I got sent flowers from my lover in Kentucky (ha ha) and that I talked to my mom on the phone and when she told me she wasn't coming over I cried on the kitchen floor. A bit dramatic and immature I know, and I don't even remember if I had any fun that birthday at all!

NO PHOTOS IS BAD

For my 21st birthday, I wanted to do the wine trail with my friends and parents.

Nope, I don't remember why we didn't, but we didn't. I had a great time otherwise the night before we had a lady gaga party,  I ended up waiting for Phillip to get home because we had the best costumes and I needed to take pictures with him!

Phillip's costume was made of his old shower curtain, 3D glasses, an old blazer and a fashion magazine.

Mine was made of an old Halloween costume, toilet paper rolls, lots of toole, beads, construction paper, and lots of hot glue.

SEE SEE HOW AWESOME!

He was at auditions, by the time he got home everyone was passed out in MY bed. We took pictures and then slept in his mattress on the floor, we soon threw away that mattress because it was gross.

I woke up and everyone was awake so I locked myself in my room and slept more because I was pissed! Then Phillip and Kayla made me breakfast and brought me a huge ceramic fish, that now sits in my bathroom My parents came over with my Toy Story cake, home-made wine, and a new laptop.

Sarah with said fish and said breakfast in said bed.

That night I  got real drunk, my best friend(Phillip) got beat up in a parking lot while I was dancing slutty with strangers, I rode home with people I didn't know, and passed out on the stairs outside of my apartment before puking up my Green Dragons.

Getting said drunk.

I am now 22 and am going to share bits about my latest birthday adventure....

This year what I wanted to do for my very mature 22nd birthday was spend the day before my birthday with my friends at the St Louis zoo and the City Museum and possibly going out and getting a much classier drunk than I did last year.

That is what I wanted to do, Phillip had to opt out because he had auditions and work ( and that stuff is more important than my birthday, I guess), Robert just sucks and forgot to ask off, Paulina remembered and so did Kayla. My parents also wanted in on the fun.

I did not go to St. Louis for my birthday. I did get to spend the last half of the day at Von Jakob and Blue Sky winery. They are both real awesome. 

My parents, Paulina, Jared, Kayla, Lauren, her friend Eric and myself all spent a lovely afternoon together. Some strange news that I sort of knew was drunkenly dropped on me. It was a bit shocking, but it's been dealt with now and I feel much better about it.

The day was nice, the wine and food was wonderful, I got money, it was a good day.

A lady in the bathroom of Blue Sky was staring at my insulin pump, so I asked her if she wanted to know what it was and she said "Nope" and I said "Fine!" What I should have said was "Fine, stop staring!" I didn't do that though, the last thing I need is to be black listed from a winery.

Maybe for my 23rd birthday I will get to have my day in STL...I hope.

Dear Ceiling Fan

A blog inspired by random ridiculousness with Kayla K.

Dear Ceiling Fan/Feminism

Please send me a heterosexual man, not bi, just plain old straight.
Please make sure all his parts are in working order and can get the job done.
Please let him love musicals too, but remember still straight.
Make him a lot like the people who I already hang out with, but you know.
Oh and my mom would like for him to be tall, so when I have kids they will be of average height, instead of being short, like myself.
It would be nice if he had an accent, like British or Australian, yes that would be lovely.
I think that's all I really need, I mean I could ask for more, but I won't.

Amen and like whatever and shit.

Almost Optimistic

I just took a sleeping pill, and I am about to curls up on my best friend's boyfriend's tiny couch.

Life has gotten the better of me recently in some very interesting ways, some really shitty things have happened, could happen and are currently happening.

But right now, I am really content. I am at peace and looking forward to the future, hopefully these feelings last a while.

I get the feeling they might.

My Silly Little Bitch Cat

I think my cat is gay, but I still love him. 

Why do I think he is gay? 

Well one of his favorite places to sleep is in closets, amid my many scarves and tights. I know gays love scarves and tights. We are moving soon so I packed up them all up and now Gunther, my cat, sleeps on top of a flannel shirt in my closet, and I swear he glares at me. Actually right now he is laying on the flannel shirt and he looks so uncomfortable, I am waiting for him to start singing a Katy Perry song just to annoy me.

When Gunther is not sleeping in my closet he is trying to get inside of my clothes, never my pants, t-shirts, or hoodies though. He wants to wear my silky tops, skirts, anything that sparkles, or my cardigans.

Sometimes Gunther is bad and he meows a long loud annoying meow, that could probably wake the dead. I think this is him singing and whining. He also likes to make messes and then not clean up after himself, although I am quite sure this is just a trait most people, and cats, who I hang out with have. When that asshole cat is bad, I spray him with something and he likes it, unless I spray it directly into his face it does not phase him. 

He also loves frozen drinks, actually I am not sure if he loves them but when Phillip and I were drinking and watching musicals on Saturday, Gunther seemed like he want to be a part of it.

I don't wonder why Gunther is gay, I am his third owner and we seem to be a pretty good fit. I think he has abandonment issues.

I call him a silly little bitch cat a lot and sometime I call him G-unit, I think he likes the first name better. It suits him.

However gay my cat is he is still pretty awesome, he loves cuddling and he plays fetch.

For the love of....

Could you stop playing that mother fucking guitar?

I just can't wait to...

be king.

Just kidding. I am never going to be king and I know that, however my name does mean princess.

I was able to buy cigarettes, lottery tickets and other novelties when  turned 18, I was also able to vote and I didn't have to listen to my parents anymore.
I did buy a ticket and lost obviously, my Mom now has me buy her cigarettes, I have been to the Lion's Den several times, I voted for Obama, and I still listen to my parents, but only about as much as I did before I turned 18.

21 brings other rights, drinking mostly. I did that too, but now I could be honest about it and do it in public and post pictures of it online.

Still there are other things I can't do yet and I really can't wait to do them. Most of the things are circumstantial and I really have no idea when I will get to do them but some are closer. I know I will be better at some than I will at others and I know some are selfish, but most aren't most of the things I can't wait to do involve others who I love and can't wait to show them what I can do.

Cats don't like car rides. I don't like the way things seem to be.

Cats generally do not like being in cars, and my cat Gunther is no exception to that rule.

My maternal Grandma (Nanny as I call her) he been in a nursing home since Christmas and she has hopped back and forth from there to the hospital numerous times since. Earlier in the week she was in the hospital and they released her and then one day later she went back. My Mom had been calling me with updates to let me know how things were and each time she called I would ask if I needed to come home.

I really didn't want to come home, because I wanted to hang out with my friends and go to a concert that night, but I still played the dutiful daughter/granddaughter role and asked if I was needed. I am sad and things don't look too good for my Nanny, but things haven't looked good for her before and she has pulled through.

I layed out with Phillip and Paulina yesterday in front of our apartment and read and relaxed and talked about how okay I was or wasn't. Then Phillip and I drove around and listened to The Book of Mormon, very good musical by the way. We also went on a search for ear candles and were a mildly horrified in both places we went into. One we are pretty sure is the headquarters of some secret government agency. It is a huge building with one tiny store in it and when we walked in the woman working asked us our names, as if she was expecting someone. In the other place we went to, first we walked around and tried free samples and then I spent a good 7 minutes smelling soaps and when Phillip finally asked about ear candles the guy who he asked said what they had weren't ear candles according to government standards and then pointed him in the direction of hollow beeswax cylinders. So we left and went to Phillip's apartment for dinner.

After parking at the school for the concert Phillip and I begin to walk towards the crowds. Once we are almost there my Mom calls and says that Nanny is being life flighted to Evansville and if I can come home and stay with my little brother. So we walk back and talk about how I can cry in the car and at least now I don't have to pretend to have a good time.

So I decide to take my cat with me to my parents house so he can play with their 2 cats. He doesn't have a carrier because I never take him anywhere so I just decide to let him roam around. We make it less than a mile from my apartment and he somehow rolls down the back window and I see him trying to make an escape in the side rear-view mirror. I stop in the middle of the road yank his ass back in the car and  put the child locks on and also lock the doors. You can't escape that easily cat!

He meows off and on and curls up in my lap for most of the ride although the steering wheel seemed to annoy him lots.

Once at my parents house he and the other cats hiss at each other and then chase each other around and I go sleep after a long hard day.

My Insomniac World

This world involves the 3 by 3 foot area around me when I sit on a couch of someone's place when I can't sleep. The world is best when it is dark and my computer and phone are the only 2 light sources, also if there are headphones. I forget I am wearing headphones when I wear headphones. This would I am speaking of is the lit up section of the room that I occupy and it is sort of weird, because only when the music stops do I hear the breathing of sleeping people, the house noises and such and when I look away from the screen I can't see and it hurts my eyes and makes me want to go to sleep...if only!

I like this world though, sometimes it involves a book or me doing my laundry at my parents house. It is a nice escape from the other weird worlds but this is the third night of it...and I am fucking ready for my happy place.

Blog about Insomnia

Well hello world! It is 12:38AM and that is relatively early for me actually. I am sitting on a love-seat in a basement listening to my 159 newly downloaded songs on iTunes on shuffle, of course. I am "like a boss." I am listening to "like a boss" like a boss, as well. The Lonely Island makes me happy, laser cats really makes me smile.

Oh and I can't sleep and it sucks dicks. Speaking of sucking dicks, I am in the Northern part of Illinois for Gay Pride (and no I am not a lesbian even though I love cats and haven't had a boyfriend in a while), I just very much enjoy the company of gays, they are a good people most of the time.

Okay and now for the reason I cannot sleep, my best friend A. Robert and I are staying with his family, and they are great and I appreciate it a lot, I just have problems sleeping when I don't get to do my nightly rituals, or in a bed that is not my own or in a bed with another person or when everyone else goes to sleep really early and I have to stay awake and entertain myself.

My nightly rituals usually include me washing my face, brushing my hair and putting my freshly brushed locks into a sexy ponytail, putting myself away in my room having a snack while stumbling the interwebs or watching netflix or reading. After that I usually play some sort of computer game such as spider solitare or a puzzle or Plants vs. Zombies (Which I recently had to delete from my computer, sad face). Then I tell my cat Gunther to get his ass out of my closet, yes he sleeps in there, and to come and cuddle with me. When he obeys my request for cuddling, we cuddle and fall asleep and then when I wake up his face is usually on my face, and I freaking love it. However I should say he more often than not refuses to cuddle until the early morning hours, so I remove him from my closet and he sleeps at the foot of the bed, where I might continuously kick him in the night but he doesn't seem to mind. After the fight for cuddling I take a lovely trip to my happy place and soon after drift off into lovely sleep.

When my friends stay over, my nightly ritual is usually an impossibility, but at least I have my bed.

However, when I sleep somewhere else falling asleep and the nightly ritual are both impossibilities. Even when I was little I would stay at friends houses and I never had to call my parents to come get me, mostly because I hate to inconvenience people, but getting to sleep was always hard. I remember my friend Gerica and I watched Pet Cemetery 2 and it was all I could do to even close my eyes that night, because immediately after we watched it she wanted to go to bed, even now I can't watch a scary movie and go straight to sleep, I must watch something funny and happy to take me back to my usual level of feeling safe and optimism.

I love trips and going places but in my ideal world I would get to sleep in my own bed, preferably alone, every night. Now as most people who know me well or semi well know, I do not have a boyfriend and if I did I would probably like sleeping in a bed with him, unless he snored a lot or something and I would still want to sleep in my own bed a lot. I am fine sleeping in a bed with my friends and such. It isn't them actually being there that bothers me. The thing that bothers me is me, I get up a lot to pee, diabetic thing, and usually whomever is in bed with me falls asleep first and I have a fear of waking them up or them telling me to stop moving so much because for some reason I have a problem getting comfortable enough to go to sleep.

I don't even take up much room while sleeping, I just like having a whole bed to myself. When I was little I slept in the same bed with my little brother because he was always scared and I was cold. The last time I slept in his bed was after I saw The Grudge and I was horrified. He was already asleep and boy does that boy take up a whole bed! I wedged myself between his flailed out arm and leg and covered myself with a corner and slept against my warm younger brother soundly. In the morning he woke me up by saying "What the fuck are you doing in my bed?" I told him I saw a scary movie and then got up and went into my own bedroom and slept more soundly because it was light outside by that time. Obviously he outgrew his fear of sleeping alone.

Wow! It has been a whole hour since I started this blog, I have moved from iTunes to YouTube and I looked at some friends blogs and did this....

I love my bed. If you have ever watched the movie Smiley Face, picture that scene where Anna Ferris is rolling around in her bed giggling. I fucking love my bed, it is comfy and awesome and wonderful and I want to be in it right now with my cat and pizza hut pizza and cheesesticks, but I can't have any of that.  I once wrote a whole poem about it...

Bed

My dearest and closest relationship.

Your companionship is second only to my cats.

But unlike the cats you never judge me or

run away from me when I am just trying to snuggle.

You are always there for me.

When I am drunk

you cushion my hangover.

When I am so exhausted I think I could pass out on the cold tile floor

you make me so happy I did not pass out on the cold tile floor.

I look forward to sinking past the day and into the covers of you, my bed.

All the pillows and blankets spilling over me, it is so awesome and warm.

However some mornings in the winter I am pissed I have to leave you.

so warm and soft and non judgmental.

Bed glorious bed.

The covers cradle and caress.

The mattress is just right as Goldilocks would say. 

The sheets are cool to the touch but warm as I lay down.

The plush pillows play me sweet melodies to fall asleep to.

Always there and waiting.

Sometimes unmade, most of the time

unmade.

Even when made you still look inviting.

It's nice knowing I have someone waiting for me when I get home.

No matter what,

whether I wish to cry into my pillows

or beat them like punching bags

or simply use one to makes sure that my legs are not touching.

Simple and so relaxing.

I think I'll take a nap.

That was it, that was the poem, I love naps too. Not cat naps though, I like a nap to be a nice 2 hour affair.

I love to stay up late and sleep late and I hate being the last one awake because then I feel weird. I am weird though and that is okay. I think I am done with this blog.

Things...

have to get better, let me tell you why.

The best cat I have ever owned is missing. She has been gone for at least 2 weeks.

I may not get to go to school this year because financial aid sucks and my parents can't afford it without financial aid.

Then there is the perpetual singleness that eats away at my life force. (That sentence was a bit dramatic, but fuck it.)

I feel like I can't actually talk to anyone. I feel like no one cares, even though I know they do.

I know I am looking for something specific, I am looking for someone to say something, or for the right opportunity.

But the way things are going I don't even know if I would see the opportunity or hear the words really.

My debit card has also been destroyed and I am broke. Nothing makes me happy except for watching Dexter, and that is just fucked up because I have already watched most episodes and he kills people.

Life is hard, television is easy, Netflix is my happy place.

Mostly, I am worried about my cat. She is orange and soft and she hates bathing herself and she hates my Mom's other cats and she is perfect in every way and I miss her and I hope she comes back.

The last time an animal of mine was missing it was my puppy Boots. Boots got parvo and my little brother's friend found her in the field across from our house dead. they told me and I started crying and ran to the bathroom, locked myself in and sobbed for at least 45 minutes.

If my precious baby Pumpkin cat is missing I hope she has internet access and my blog saved to her favorites, I hope she reads this and come home. I need to cuddle her gnarly-self.

Things have to get better.

Weird Wine

I love booze and occasionally like to indulge in excessive drinking of booze...only occasionally. I like to indulge with the same people usually, as I tend to be very drunk, loud, inappropriate, obscene and occasionally not fully clothed.

My friend Phillip works at a place that sells food and booze. This past Saturday I got off at 6 and he got off at 8. We had plans to hang out after and I decided that I would go to his work and get drunk while he was working and then he could drive me home and we could get more drunk.

I order a bottle of really yummy wine from Phillip and sit down with my young adult novel and begin to drink. I decided that I must finish this bottle in an hour and a half time frame. I think the other workers felt sorry for me, they kept asking me if I ordered food and when I received my bottle of wine I was given 2 glasses (I left one on a random table), and finally after I was almost done with my wine I was given 2 tokens to get wine or beer really cheap from a nice gentleman.

Also Phillip later told me that his boss liked me and would hire me if I wanted a job. I asked him if I could get discounted wine or beer, he said no, so I declined that job offer.

I didn't read very much, I mostly texted my friend Kasey. Drunk reading is very enjoyable though.

By the time Phillip was off I was very drunk. We went to my apartment to check on my cat and to get a box of wine that we hadn't finished yet.

Once we had properly played with my cat and gotten that half full box of wine we went back to Phillip's and got to work.

We finished that wine in no time. I cried because I thought my parents hated me and were punishing me for changing my major(they don't, I just don't understand their "logic" if you can even call it that.) We talked about how awesome we will one day be in the theater world and before we knew it the wine was gone! So we decided to walk to a liquor store to get more.

We of course took my camera and documented part of the journey. Then we met Lonnie, a 35 year old homeless man who we spent an hour sitting with under an over pass. We told him we were homeless too and  to go to Papa Johns because they would probably feed him. He asked if we were high and I am pretty sure that lead to a delightful conversation about all the drugs our new friend Lonnie had done. I was still really drunk and kept telling the homeless man that he had a warm soul.

After we homeless went our separate ways, Lonnie to find food and we to find booze, I somehow injured my hand. I woke up with a blood blister on my hand and grass in my bra. We were almost to the liquor store when there was a cop car and I got scared, so I handed my money to Phillip and probably said something like "I'll be here, go get us wine my child." While Phillip went and got the 2 cheapest bottles of wine he could find I sat on the step of an Indian food restaurant. I am unsure how we made it home, but we so did.

We then went on an inappropriate photoshoot, I had WTMB exposed and we used Phillip's exercise bands as props, oh and all of the cars in the parking lot, and a tree, and steps....

We called Papa John's at 2:20 because we fucking wanted pizza. We were on hold until 2:48 and they told us they stopped taking orders at 2:45. Phillip told them we have been on hold since 2:20 and they said sorry and hung up. Phillip made my facebook status about it.

Phillip decided we would watch Rock-a-Doodle and he would make pizza. I remember him saying the crust will be a tortilla shell and then I fell asleep.

I should add that earlier we ate a whole thing of biscuits with jelly. I was drunk when I bought the biscuits and a man tried to get me to let him buy my biscuits with his link card and I refused. I didn't understand why he would want to do that and then Phillip explained that if he bought my biscuits with his link and I gave him the money then he could use my money to get booze or cigarettes and that was illegal! I was glad I said no.

When I awoke Phillip was sitting on the floor eating pizza made of tortilla shell, Alfredo sauce, velveta cheese, 1 piece of bacon, pickles and only drunk Phillip knows what else. So I of course dug in. We finished Rock-a-Doodle and went to sleep. We didn't even finish one bottle of wine...

My Favorite Things

Cats sleeping in my lap
Castle Park
The "you are my sunshine" spot
Reading on the beach
Reading outside
Iced Coffee
Old Stuff
Target
Sundresses
My clear umbrella
Sleeping in
Lots of pillows
Crafts
My awesome insulin pump
Finding cool stuff for free
Taking way too many pictures and then subjecting the world to view them
fruit punch
being barefoot outside in the summer
A specific hot tub

Angsty

I'm so angsty as of late. And according to my spell check angsty isn't even a word!
Fuck you spell check fuck you!
I don't even know why, honestly I don't.
I thought I was supposed to be over these angsty feelings by now, I haven't felt this weird in a while.
I am not depressed, been there, I think angst is the only word I feel comfortable describing my weirdness with.
Probably because I don't know whats causing the weirdness.
Part of it may be a riff in a friendship, we both have weirdness happening, another part may be the new job, and then the constant part of my displeasure is my perpetual singleness(this is my number one issue, I know that.)

I know what I need, I need someone to shut up and just listen to me. I need them to ask me questions and let me answer them, I need someone to just be quiet and tell me it's all going to be okay. (Because I know it will be, I just want to be told by someone who I don't normally hear it from.)

I need someone new to talk to, maybe an old person, on their front porch or maybe a child on a playground. I need someone who knows things I don't or remembers things I have forgotten. I need a storybook read to me where I get to be the princess,  a prince doesn't need to save me in fact I would prefer if he didn't, but I need less harping and more helping.

Taking Names and Killing Snakes

I am about to describe this event as it happens.

My Mom and Dad are currently trying to kill a snake, I am watching from the island bar in our kitchen, my little brother and his friend are playing magic cards behind me in the dining room, and the cats are chasing bugs and watching from the window too.

Now Neil is going to scare Mom, I am still on snake watch.

Let me describe the earlier events while nothing exciting is happening.

It's Mother's Day and I am home until Tuesday. Mom bought a bunch of flowers, seeds and ferns and she was showing them to me. After we toured the gardens, we sat on our back porch and admired our land  and the nice weather and planned for our gardening tomorrow. The dogs sat at our feet and our cats occasionally paid attention to us. Dad came outside for a while. Now I don't even remember what we were talking about, but I got distracted by something moving on the upper corner of our back porch and I thought that looks like a snake! And it was a snake! So I yelled SNAKE! And we ran to the door! Which was locked! So we beat on it and yelled for Neil and Dad and Neil's friend Ian! Finally Neil answers the door and says "Is there a snake?" To which we reply yes!

Well the snake is dead now, after an epic battle, which I will now describe.

After sitting inside and starting this blog and exchanging witty snake killing banter with my family inside and through the glass, this is how the death happened.

We have had snakes get up under the roof of our back porch before (and we killed them too) so we knew how this was about to go down. Mom sprayed bleach and water and Dad sprayed wasp spray into the lip of our porch, and then we wait, well they wait and I typed that first big paragraph. So we wait and spray more water and bleach and then the snake starts to slither down the square pole that holds up our porch. Since the pole is square the snake falls about halfway down, stupid idiot snake, then Mom comes after it with a shovel. She strikes it and keeps coming back up and then Dad comes to help and Mom yells "Get the pruners and cut its head off! He is slippery and I need help!" Dad instead of getting the pruners grabs a sponge mop that we happen to have laying outside (we are classy like that, actually I bet Mom used it to wash the side of the house.) I guess the sponge mop could have absorbed some of the slippery off the snake? The snake moves back to the porch from the rocks it had been in and mom keeps swinging the shovel and the snake keeps striking up to bite. Finally after numerous blows Mom finally severs the evil snake being and then my parents bash it a few more times just to be safe. Moments after the snakes death, Neil arrives with a rake. I sat and watched the carnage happen from the safety of my tall kitchen chair.

Now we must decide what to do with the snake, Dad says throw it in the fence row, but Mom decided to burn it.

Dad said I should have videoed the killing, but I said it was really violent and I don't particularly like to video violence, unless it is well acted or between stuffed animals.

We decided this was our stance against snakes on out property "We see you, we find you, we kill you."

I have never killed a snake, I prefer to run into my parents arms screaming and begging for them to kill the evil thing with no arms. I don't think I could kill a snake unless it was a life or death situation, I would be too scared or feel bad after, even though the things terrify me.

After witnessing my parents and my brother with their tools and in action, I think my family will be fine if there is ever a zombie invasion and that is what really matters.

Happy Mother's Day! I am going to do laundry now.

I can’t help but say the words I cannot say

I can’t help but say the words I cannot say.

Every time something begins to begin to be fun someone seems to stop it out or ruin it. Now I am not saying I don’t have fun, but it seems to be the simple things that are most fun.

Every time I think I can break my shell someone seems to come and tape it up, 

“Nope you aren’t really ready to be you yet let me spackle on some more doubts and fears and insecurities for you to deal with.”

Really, I thought I had enough already? 

But if you say so, go ahead pile them on, no really I don’t mind, I am just timid little Sarah who listens and agrees and shuts up when told to. 

If I can’t talk about it with you who can I talk too? 

I can trace this back to the beginning. 

I’ve always wanted to be an actress and instead of encouraging me to try, my parents encouraged me to pick a “more sensible path.” Which really is fine, I get it. They encouraged me and helped me a lot and they still do, but I think that is the first time I was told to change and I did. But I can’t, I love theater, I really do I can’t even imagine my life without it. It moves me. I need it and now I am in school for at least another year to get that degree when I knew that was what I wanted to do since I was 8. 

(But my parents really are awesome)

The second major crushing blow to my being me happened in high school. I was quiet in high school and didn't cuss and had hopes of still being a virtuous soul when I graduated. I wasn’t, I wasn't at all. 

Peer pressure sucks, once in junior high myself and some friends were on the playground and they were trying to get me to say, Mother Fucker. Now I can say, type, spit, yell, scream that word with no problem, then it was different story. I said mother with no hesitation, but when it came to the f bomb, no such luck. 

Anyways flash forward to high school, I don’t remember exactly what year it was probably freshman or sophomore my high school boyfriend and I were at a secluded spot on the edge of town and his car had a sunroof. After what I am sure was an intensely tame lame make out session, I opened his sunroof and proceeded to sit on top of his car and sing loudly. He asked what I was doing and then we got into a fight. Why were we fighting? Oh because I wasn't being the timid little Sarah he “loved.” 

When he said I don’t know about the new you I formed a shell to live in as the real me, the loud Sarah who likes to dance crazy even while shes sober, the Sarah who isn't scared to stand up for herself or others, the Sarah who can express and back her opinion with ease. 

I melted into the seat of that charcoal Eclipse faster than butter in a skillet, I probably said something like Okay sweetie and then I probably shut up and held his hand as he sped me home. 

Occasionally, someone can break the shell and I have fun, but almost immediately I get put back inside before I can even gather the pieces of the shell to destroy them. Even when I try to storm off someone comes to find me, they won’t even let me brood, they know I am too nice.

Mother Fuckers. 

It still happens even now, people who I love keep patching the holes over so I can’t escape. I guess it would be people I love who want to keep me the same, but I can’t and I know it’s only a matter of time before I get out. 

I know I have someone with a pick axe on my side and maybe, just maybe if I can dance and yell loud enough I can get out.

Nature is Magic

Well more accurately mushrooms are magic, no not those magic mushrooms! Druggies!

Morels are magic!

They are the best tasting mushroom in the world in my opinion and I love all mushrooms, but there are by far the best and my favorite. 

What? You have never heard of morel mushrooms, well you are missing out my friend.

It is possible that many people will never know the joyous taste of a fresh, moist, soaked in saltwater, dipped in milk, lightly battered in flour, and finally fried morel mushroom. (This sentence makes my mouth water) Oh well, as we always say more for us. 

The reason these mushrooms are so good, is because they grow for a very limited time of year in very limited places and mostly you have to go foraging to find them. 

For as long as I can remember every year around April my family and I have gone mushroom hunting. We are lucky enough to have a good secret spot and this year we were also lucky enough for it to be a good year. Some years are better than others and this year they started early and are plentiful.

When I was really young I remember driving around to a bunch of different spots or maybe it was just one but I was little so it seemed different every time. Now we just go straight to our tried and true spot and find a few at least every time, I don't think we have ever came up empty handed there.

Now before we all go Dad goes and he usually finds a ton, he always finds the most anyways. There are bets made, but he will always find the most and almost always find the first one, both are a great honor. 

After Dad has confirmed the season has started we all start going to the spot. The season usually starts around April or when these little weed things called Mayapples start growing. I personally hate Mayapples, I always wished that morels grew like them because there are always tons of Mayapples, tons.

Fuck Mayapples.

You have to have a love/hate relationship with them though, they do signal the start of a beautiful thing. 

Spraying down with bug spray is always essential too. I always wear a t-shirt and shorts or capris and my Mom always yells at me every year and every year I still wear the same thing. She wants me out there in jeans and it is usually too hot to be traipsing about in the woods in jeans. For me it is anyways, that is why bugspray is oh so important.

Since I have moved out of my parent's house I haven't been able to go with them as often as I used to and I have only got to go once this year. (Hoping for at least one more time though) This time just my Dad and I went, and Mom stayed home and cooked the mushrooms they had found the previous days.

I never find the first mushroom, it is like I am completely blind to them until someone else, usually Dad, find one. We made a five dollar bet on who would find the first one, and of course he did. I never gave him the five bucks though, maybe he forgot. I wouldn't have given it to him anyhow, we didn't shake on it.  After he found the first mushroom of the day it was on, we found at least 35 and I would say we both found an about even amount of them.

While we were in the woods hunting he told me about how his back was hurting the week before and he decided to go hunt mushrooms to make himself feel better. And he found a ton the first day he went out, which didn't help his back but it did make him feel better.

If Mom would have went she would have talked to the morels and asked them to come out of their hiding places, and if Neil would have went he would have been mad until he found some or he would have been mad if I found more.

Oh and I got to keep all of the mushrooms we found that day, they were all super delicious.

Morels are awesome, delicious, fun to find and a family tradition.

The Next Few Weeks

I can't sleep and I don't know why.

Recently I have been in good spirits. But now it is almost 5 AM on a Saturday morning and here I sit: sober, awake and alone.

Now most of the time none of these things would bother me, as I am sober and awake most of the time and at 5 AM I am usually alone.

However last night was Friday and I decided to be responsible and stay in because I have to wake up at 7:30 to get ready by 8:30 and drive an hour to train for my new job. Yet had I known that I would be up all night anyways I may have went out and made a few mistakes, because I have no doubt that tomorrow while I am watching videos about folding clothes and reading just how this brand card is better than every other out there (which of course it is!) I will feel hungover or worse.

It would be really neat if my body would clue me in to it's decision not to sleep a bit earlier in the day, like say around 9PM, so I could take a sleeping pill, go pick a fight, stand on a corner so I can have a roll in the hay, just something to wear me out so I can go the fuck to sleep.

Or if it refused to sleep, like a screaming 5 year old, then it could let me know that too, then maybe I could go out and have fun, because it is going to be a while until I have fun again.

Not because I don't like fun, I love fun. But because I am a slave to the man the next 2 or 3 weeks. I have a new job, and I am really excited (I get paid more cash money), but I also still have one week left at my old job and unfortunately my new job is at a store that hasn't even opened yet. Hence I must drive to a different store in a different STATE 3 days this coming week to train and on the days I don't do that I work at my old job, and then alas God blesses me with Easter Sunday and gives me 2 whole days off! However those days will also be full of busy for me.

After the blessed 2 days off it is grand opening week, but thankfully I will be down to one job then! And then Grand Opening and who knows what the future holds!

I hope the title of my blog continues to inspire me. I put the word FEW in there on purpose, because it means not many.

Maybe my body is trying to prepare me for the lack of sleep I am about to endure the next FEW weeks, I hope that is not what it is doing because I really love sleep. Hopefully it is just chock full of excitement about this new job, it is probably more excited about me buying a tanning package though.

I will probably be posting a lot about this new job and my last week at my old job, however what I write may be indistinguishable to the human eye, it may be in sleep deprived -coffee junkie - zombie- language. That looks something like this:  7u8yr465tyer

I have no idea what I just wrote but it is undoubtedly inappropriate.

Soup of Show-tunes

Twice in the past week, musical music has saved my life....

Well not really my life, but my sanity at least. Let me start with the experience that allowed me to make the realization that show-tunes save me constantly and also explain my love of musicals.

My Love of Musicals

I love them because they make me happy, most are eternally hopeful and even if they aren't hopeful at least people still burst out into song and I love it, No no I fucking love it. I know they are unrealistic and silly, but I can't help it, they are always a nice break from real life.

Now to then...ya dig?

On the way home from a long way away from home tonight, I thought I had the perfect CD to listen to. Well it turns out this CD was not perfect for driving long distances, by yourself, at night, and so on.  I turn to the radio and listen to the YMCA and other such classic oldies,

THEN like a miracle from above I remember that I have my iPod in my purse from the next trip I will talk about. I plug in my iPod to the cassette player and the charger(because my iPod is old and doesn't stay charged), as I speed down the highway.(<-----Phrase added for dramatic effect)(MOM!)   I immediately go to my "Broadway Baby" playlist and I fucking turn that shit up! Then I realize for the 2nd time that night that my iPod sucks and I turn it back down so it doesn't sound so scratchy.

I sing my little heart out...and think back to all of the times show-tunes have gotten me through hard times....

Flashback to April 6th, 2011


On the way back from STL at around 10 O'clock at night, I instruct my co-pilot or my conductor to choose music from my 1985 Generation .0000000004 iPod to keep me awake!. He does so, first with music from GLEE and then with

show-tunes from Avenue Q
(A glorious musical with puppets!)
http://www.avenueq.com/ 


We sang, I sang badly and Phillip sang awesome, duh.


Flashback to sometime in the fall of 2008


Some friends and I agreed to help a friend move once, and a van broke down and we had to push it (well I didn't push it)  and I videoed people pushing the van, we took some pictures in an abandoned house and we got back really late and figured out that the apartment was probably haunted.

On the really late ride back we listened to show-tunes and I sounded awesome and everyone else just sucked! Wait no, reverse sucked and awesome and you have the correct version of events.

Final Flashback to late 2007/early 2008

So around this time I was breaking up with my high-school boyfriend, it sucked. It sucked a lot, and I broke up with him and it still sucked. Also around this time I was in a production of You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown. I was super sad about this break-up we had been together for 4 years and I did not know how to be my own person, like at all. I was depressed and the only CD I listened to was the original cast recording of You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown. I of course skipped the sad or slow songs, but thankfully most were happy sounds of adults acting like children.

I didn't much sing to this, well actually I am sure I did, but I mostly drowned out my feelings in a soup of show-tunes.

Lying

"Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray my soul for you to keep."

I never prayed like this. I remember the first time I heard someone say it was in the hallway of the Carrier Mills First Baptist Church just outside of the nursery. I thought about how I prayed.

Once in some bible class, I remember being told that I had to list each thing separately to thank God for all of them(This could have been imagined or misheard by my five year old mind). So my prayers I said when I crawled under covers at night sounded more like this:

Dear God, up above in heaven, 

thank you for mom and dad

 and neil and whisker and 

grady and food and 

our house and 

my friends…

I would sometimes list all of my family, but it was only usually on holidays or birthdays, while I had them all fresh behind my face and bundled as important in my brain. Next came my animals, yeah they are that important. Then came food, I always pictured a salad for some reason, and home. I would list things important to me that day.

I have to be cold to sleep, I feel more secure, I suffocate in heat.  Usually I don’t pray before I go to sleep now, but that doesn’t mean anything. I talk to someone, it is probably God. Only not all bearded and white, I like to imagine Whoopi Goldberg as what God would look like. How can one not love Whoopi?

It should be raining

You are lying on your stomach on a small table

Unable to move

Meanwhile I am leaving class to check my messages, walking to my car in the smirking sunshine

All the while thinking it should be raining

I don’t know why

I just think it would make me feel better

I wore black today

To mock the sun

I should have worn your or her favorite colors

I’m only scared when I think about it

I’ve got my lists made to keep me busy

All day and all night until you call

I’ll make something because it’s safe

I’ll do all the things I shouldn’t

I’ll do all the things I should

I realize things and create

Still I will have to lay down at night or early morning

And wonder if everything will ever dawn on us

All day we took memories from the surrounding areas

Sunlight or flash making us beautiful

Or hideous beasts worthy of villainy

That is what the garbage is for

Moving and unmoving

Ready slash candid

Blurry maybe lifelike

When the sunset, I saw the cityscape on the horizon
and far out the window of the ungilded palace.

At least at a palace you’ll be protected.

The dim slipped in and we slipped out
to begin the last legs of our adventure.

Frantically searching for the filmless machines,
it never dawns on me that it’s dark.

Finding them at the bottom of the pit,
and thank God for the ropes attached to them, found.

The pyramid steps lead us up a magical mountain
with a waiting monument atop it.

In the daylight its different, everything’s different, always.

It’s not day, its dark, but not scary.

One of us lays upon the pebble soaked concrete,
and the other falls into the fold after the first

I stand for a moment, then I too put my knees on the ground,

swing my legs out from under me and end up sitting

Slowly feeling the coldish stones beneath my palms I lean my
head and body back on to the ground

I felt the earth shake, yes of course it was unnatural.

A train beneath the streets ferrying lost souls
back and forth from land to land.

As people walked near I heard their steps, their stories,

my hands still outstretched at my sides,

I look towards the sky.

Above me is a smoggy sea of stars,     
                           
                                                     I want to be happy,

but its hard to be happy in a smoggy sea of stars.

I think over it all, how things work, all questions.

I like lying on my back looking up, I still see
the two figures at my sides.

I think of figures, how many actually lay
by my sides in some way.

There are so many of us and we’re all looking up
at the same stars smoggy or not and

I bet Whoopi is watching out

for all of us.

Spring Cleaning: My Real Title is Inappropriate

A Great Big Fuck You

I am not as fragile as a flower, or as shallow as an hour or a shower for that matter.

I am as deep as a week and sometimes a month if I try.

I am strong as lily. They always come up early and get crushed back to the earth by frost and cold, but they come back, stronger and in greater numbers. 

They come back year after year.

I’m sick of complaining, and being frustrated, mentally, physically, sexually, emotionally,

all those words end in Ally. But in this sense they sure are not.

They are shitttttttty. Shitty I tell you shitty.

Real allies are there for you, even while you complain or get broken or cold.

Sure I’m breakable, mistakable, not-take-able, unreachable, reachable, able. I am able.

That is what I’ll be for me and for everyone who matters.

But not for you, never for you.

I’ll be able and strong and an ally and deep.

This is my clean sweep, 

my emotional spring cleaning, 

goodbye and good riddance skeletons in my closet, 

give the ghosts of the past the finger if you see them. 

Tell them I haved moved on and I am on my merry way.

Give them the finger and tell them to have a nice life.

A list of crushes, relationships and everything.

To you with your eyes as blue as the ocean

Remember when you carried me across the playground, because I didn't have on shoes. I don't even remember why I wasn't wearing shoes. I know you knew about the crush. I wonder though if you ever believed the story about the pencil? Well  it wasn't true.

To you who everyone dated and for once I was included

I broke up with you because you called my cousin a name. I still don't take kindly to that. You said you were just kidding, I knew better. You were a boy and a coward. I was better off without you. I knew these things before any of my friends did.

To all those boys who asked me to dance with them at dances

Thank you so much.

To you who I dated forever and never had a date with.

I remember when we danced together and then we were dating. Mostly though I remember after staying to help clean up with my Mom and our family. I remember while they cleaned I jumped from chair to chair around the walls saying in a sing songy voice "I have a boyfriend! I have a boyfriend." I was still wearing my white velvet awesome dress, no one told me to stop. We were young and all our relationship meant was that we always had a date to the next dance and then I broke up with you, for someone else.

I was entering high school and was finally pretty.

I wonder if you are still the same person I knew. I am sure you aren't, I am not the same. I tried to change even when I was still with you and I could not. You said you didn't like it. If it had been up to you I would have stayed as innocent as I was when I first met you and you didn't like me at first either, it was another girl who caught your eye. Then I did and you did pick me over others every time. I miss that, I miss being picked. I wonder if you still have to take all of your clothes off when you go to the bathroom. I don't know why I wonder that, but I do. I broke your heart and that sucks, but you broke my spirit long before I did any wrong to you. You broke me in the guise of love and I believed it. Sometimes I still believe it. Then a glimmer of hope emerges and a friend, a real true friend, holds my heart and reminds me. I don't even know why I am writing this.

To you, you beautiful beautiful brainless man

Okay, I don't think you are brainless. You did everything right and then you tried to control me.

To all the dates and hookups in between....

To you sexy man hunk you

Yep that was just hopeless and then spark and cue awkward. I have wasted enough time poetically and otherwise on you.

To all the drunken nights

You each served your purpose perfectly.

Finally to you

I was completely enamored by you
and then shoved off of a cliff
to be
eaten by wild animals.

Thanks for that.
Now it might be even longer until this list has a happy ending asshole.

You want a show?

You want to see a show
You want to be entertained

You want a show
Walk up to my window

See the girl live and breathe
See her laugh
See her mistakes
See her the way she sees herself

Walk up to any window

See the families
See the happiness
See the struggles

Walk up to my window

See me cry
See real emotion
See behind the smile and polite conversation
See me how I see myself

If only life was made of glass
It is fragile and beautiful and can be twisted and molded into nearly anything
It is not transparent

You can keep pulling back layers forever

Baby You'd Be There

Once you left work and almost got fired
Just to see me shine

It means so much when someone sees you shine

I can't tell if I'm shining if no ones there to see

As I sit on the stage holding back stupid childish tears,
yawning not out of boredom but out of sheer exhaustion because I have been working my ass off at not only
this, but at work and school and life, as well

I realize this is what its all about.
It's about feeling like shit, because something let you down, and pushing through it
using that emotional charge to get lifted up to where you need to be.

It's about feeding off of those close to you,
Taking their energy for your own,
knowing that they love you and care and
so does everyone seated below you and those controlling things from above.

Its about paying attention to small details storing them for complements later,
sharing that vagina love.

Its about appreciating those 2 people sitting by themselves in the audience
knowing you have their support and that is all you need.

Its about the effort put in and
then that moment of peace
when the lights hit your face
and you stand
and the words flow out of your mouth like rain from the sky.
The easiness amazes you and you're away, but you're there and you disappear in what you say

                     And its such a lovely feeling, you know.

I'm Stupid, but Happy.

I started writing this last night and it turned into something not appropriate for the internet at this time. I will post it somewhere eventually I am sure.

But today I proclaimed myself the most awkward creature ever.

There are millions of people more awkward than me. I know that. Awkward Bob down the street knows that.

I am not awkward, when I am confident or I know or I know you don't like me.
but oh boy iffffff you like me
and I don't know you very well
shit.

I suck at flirting, I know how. I do, I swear.

I can do it in the car, after initial interactions.

and I kick myself for not saying that witty clever thing that I know would have made you fall madly in love with me.

I suck.

I can act like I am flirting.

I can flirt with gay guys or girls or old people.

But not with people I actually like, unless I know they like me too and even then...

I still suuuuuuuuuck!
----------------------------------------------------
Interaction

Boy who might like me and who I like for sure: Hey

Sarah: Hey

Boy(looks at Sarah)

Sarah(tries to smile and turns away and leaves)
------------------------------------------------

Fuck, I suck.

Why is it so hard for me to be semi-normal?

Unless dude is into girls who can't string words together or even manage to try and be cool than I am out of luck.

Isn't this how a romantic comedy starts?
Except my life isn't a movie. *I totally wish it was though.
Even if it was it would just be a comedy. No romance.

But alas life is good, I got a great dress on Wednesday and I got a free smoothie and a guy told me I was pretty while I rang him up at Old Navy (I didn't have on any makeup that day either)

Changed!

In books authors always describe a change that you can feel in the air or a change that reaches out and grabs you. Or they talk about someone going away for a while and then when they came back they were changed somehow and you can see it.

I saw it, yes I saw the change in a person! It was so weird. 

Let's say I saw this person lets call him Sharon and I hadn't seen them in round abouts a few years. We didn't acknowledge each other the first time we ran into each other again.

And then a time came for it and I to speak and it hugged me and muttered insincere "Ive missed you"s or come visit me"s or other random grossness.

When it hugged me I felt it leave bad energy and vibes on me. I could have mucked it off in a barrel if it had been visible or solid. It wasn't until tonight that I realized what the feeling was.

It was the feeling of change. It washed over me as we entered the same rooms, passed on the same streets, boarded the same elevators. Sharon had not changed for the better and after some investigating I found out why!

Dun dun duuuuuunnnnununununu! ( <-----Dramatic musics<-------)

It and it's significant other recently split!!! (Scandalous)

This is why the change had come over Sharon! (Scandalicious)


I call tell the changes and I can tell them from the wind!
You can try to vex me but my mind won't ever bend!

Cause I can smell the changes and I smell them on the sea!
You will never know them cause you ain't me!

Yo I can feel the changes I kin feel them the earthf!
Yeah you better go and find yoself a smurf!

I can taste the changes I can taste them in the air!
You feel me? Cause you better  or I fuck you up, I swear.

Understanding

So many people get me in so many different ways and I appreciate it more than anyone knows.

But can you completely understand me, ever, can I ever fully understand myself?

I honestly don't know.

Today I went to my first yoga class and at the end we meditate. I realized that I need more physical strength, and that I have such a great emotional strength and I am strong. At meditation, as the trippy cool Indian music played I was laying on the floor and above my chest I envisioned this golden light, it was bright and there were birds in it and voices and mouths and vines and everything was there. It was like a tornado but less violent, it was a tornado of peace.

I looked up at the ceiling and I thought this is an important moment in the movie of my life. It was a shot, the main character realizes something important or it shapes them in some way. I don't know exactly what it was, but I know it was there and I can't wait to see what I learned.

Things happen and people change and you can't always understand and there are somethings I will never understand that some people might have an infinite knowledge about, that doesn't mean they are any better or that I am any better or less than, it just means that we differ.

Life is a quest for understanding and knowledge, but also a quest to accept that you can't understand everything and that is okay.

Its all good, just know what you know and strive to learn and I think that is what will make me happiest and help me to understand more and be more understanding.

Knowing that I don't have to understand to be understanding.

No One In Particular

You

You're as shallow as a teaspoon

And you think you're deeper than a well

You say you'll go to heaven

While I know you'll go to hell

And I don't why I know you

And I don't know why we're friends 

You're never there when I need you
and somehow everyone else is

Just know that when it ends
it ends

No go backs or do overs
This isn't childhood again

Best friends forever?
Whatever. You think you're so clever?

I can't even count the dramatic acts you've put me through
Most plays only have 2

We must be on 17
Some plays have 5

and that is too many for me even
and I act


You act too
You act pretty and all knowing and naive and ugly and shy and confident and everything at once
You're like a book of emotions and colors and songs

No wonder they all love you
They can all have a different you
You change for everyone else, but not for yourself

At least I know who I am
At least I know who you aren't

When You're Gone

I just finished Never Let Me Go By Kazuo Ishiguro and I have also been watching Weeds and thinking about a lot of stuff as of late so this sort of is my solid mix of weird emotions and what the book and show just got me thinking about.

"I keep thinking about this river somewhere, with the water moving really fast. And these two people in the water, trying to hold onto each other, holding on as hard as they can, but in the end it's just too much. The current's too strong. They've got to let go, drift apart. That's how I think it is with us. It's a shame, Kath, because we've loved each other all our lives. But in the end, we can't stay together forever."

Tommy to Kath in Never Let Me Go

When You're Gone I'll feel sentimental. I'll be lonely and upset and angry at you for leaving me in this cold desolate world alone.

But while I am waiting for you the world doesn't feel cold and desolate at all.  It feels good.

I mean I know you're out there and you are keeping me warm with your thoughts and your longing for me just like I am longing for you. It helps to know that right?

The world is a really good place while we are both in it even though we may still be waiting and separate. Every experience I have I really can't wait to share.

When I think I see you or even meet you and then come to find out I didn't, a little flicker of fear lights up in my mind like grease fire or those birthday candles you just can't blow out no matter what. Then your breath, I am sure it is you, you blow it out. It's gentle though and it is simple, no one else could blow out that candle until you came into my head. It's just enough to knock the fear back and wake me like a cool blast of air conditioning on a July afternoon.

Most of the time sleep comes easily to me. The blankets wash over me like waves crash on the beach and i drown in the ocean soft plush cotton fabric. Some nights though, I'll remember falling asleep in someone else's arms. Arms other than my own. The arms have always been loving and never hurtful, they've cradled me as I've cried, held me just because I needed to be held by someone. The hands have gently caressed my face, dried my tears, swept over my cheek just to feel my skin, tilted my chin up to look me in the eyes and to make me smile. I can't help but feel that the arms and hands of these friends will be nothing compared to yours.

The nights sleep won't come, I lay on my side and close my eyes and I tell myself to just wait and then I feel a presence around me. I imagine your body wrapped around mine, I see it from above. Yes we are spooning, totally spooning. Your chin is on my shoulder and I turn my head to awkwardly look at your face and I know I 'm happy.

So I'm hopeful too. And maybe even if we never find each other we can go through life knowing that we never had to lose each other either and we can just grow old and still have the hope of our youth. I'll hope to find you though, I will keep an eye out and when or if it happens we will both know. I know that.

I'm already sentimental and we haven't even begun...