Thursday May 29, 2003

Ah, life
Right now, one of the most pressing decisions I have to make is whether I should go for the oh-so stylish new phone or go with the slightly less stylish new phone. I just want to smush the less stylish phone's innards into the other's hot exterior.

Ciao,
Sarae, 03:30 PM
while listening to
[Just this]
1 comment

Wednesday May 28, 2003

How much should we give?
I think my favorite magic trick is coming home wearing different pants than the ones you left wearing.

It's almost as fun as changing into a tank top in front of an ATM. Which I did, Monday.

That's me: wild. Or something.

Ciao,
Sarae, 07:54 PM
while listening to CCR - Fortunate Son
[Just this]
No comments

* * *


Today, I like the word "regardless."

As per usual, I loathe the word "actually."

Ciao,
Sarae, 12:15 PM
while listening to
[Just this]
1 comment

Monday May 26, 2003

What're you waiting for
I think I truly had a weekend and a half, this time.

My arms and back are twitching with pre-sunburn pain. I'm sleepy from all the beer and the sun and delayed hypothermia (illicit midnight swimming is, while fun in concept and possibly in the future, not fun when realized when it's still late May.) I'm sore from the volleyball and tennis and other limb-streching activies done en masse, in addition to an almost unhealthy dose of laughter. Plus, I stole a knife.

Time to douse myself in lotion and hit the sack before goin' back to the daily grind.

Ciao,
Sarae, 11:37 PM
while listening to Justin Timberlake - Take Me Now
[Just this]
No comments

Saturday May 24, 2003

All in a day's work
Today, I:

• Woke up before my alarm went off.
  
• Went home.
  
• Planted for almost an entire afternoon.
  
• Made many semi-funny jokes.
  
• Was enlisted to haul forty-pound bags of soil and manure, because my dad's back was sore.
  
• Was driven around in a Madison suburb by my parents, and had no idea where I was.
  
• Ate a delicious steak for dinner.
  
• Pulled a rather amusing prank on my brother, courtesy Seventh Heaven.
  
• Rode a bike for the first time in eons.
  
• Beat my brother's ass at tennis for the majority of two hours.

And the night's not even begun!

Ciao,
Sarae, 09:45 PM
while listening to
[Just this]
No comments

* * *

And I can't see where I went wrong
It occured to me last night, in that half-awake hyperactive mind state, that I'm quite...not the same as last year. Both superficial things as well as real.

For example, I don't worry anymore. And when I say that, I don't mean that I worry less. No - I don't worry at all. I honestly can't remember the last time I worried. And that doesn't bother me in the least.
I'm a hell of a lot more talkative now, and not just when I've been drinking. I drink with intent, not idly because it's there. I tell people when I'm pissed at them, or when they annoy me, instead of doing that sullen thing which I deluded myself into believing was best for everyone.

And I can't remember anything else from my list last night. I think there were a lot of stupid things on it, as to be expected, but quite a few good ones. Now, damn my mind for forgetting so easy.

Ciao,
Sarae, 11:30 AM
while listening to The Watchmen - Run and Hide
[Just this]
No comments

Thursday May 22, 2003

Turn on the lights, gettin' ready for the night
My horoscope for tomorrow contains a sentence which utilizes both the words "probe" and "penetrating." How did it know I like fun words that begin with p?

It also tells me, in fancier terms, to tell everyone off. Or something along those lines. But, you see, I will not. Because I have no reason to tell anyone off. It's a delightful thing, that is.

Ciao,
Sarae, 11:19 PM
while listening to
[Just this]
2 comments

Wednesday May 21, 2003

Returning home, it smells of summer.

Ciao,
Sarae, 09:39 PM
while listening to
[Just this]
No comments

* * *

All my blood for the sweetness of her laughter
Must remember that no matter how often people claim that writing something down, just getting it out there, makes it better, it is a lie. Three tightly filled pages in my journal, and it is not better at all. In fact, it is quite possibly worse. Suggestions unhelpful. Nothing learned, except that I like to write in blue ink that doesn't smudge.

And that my horoscope was wrong.

And that today's been remarkably long feeling. I mean, really. Wow. I've been up for forever.

Ciao,
Sarae, 02:36 AM
while listening to Jeff Buckley - Lover, You Should Have Come Over
[More]
No comments

Tuesday May 20, 2003

This time I'm looking
Good: Sink fixed. New photo prints to play with. Not late to work. Gossip at work. Bright and sunny out. Impressively deep blue lake color. Sleater-Kinney on headphones while walking. Not Sunday. Book nearly finished, the third in the past week. Cleaning messy room may lend itself to discovery of other new, as yet unread books. Taking interestingly compositioned picture without looking at the LCD or viewfinder. Cutting down the blog consumption to only those truly enjoyed.

Bad: Today's horoscope (another in a recent, long streak of abysmal predictions). Showing up twenty minutes early to work. Forgetting wallet. Grandparent in hospital. Cold despite sun, and windy. Realization that have terribly embarrassing look of intense thought when listening to Sleater-Kinney on headphones (or unnerving grin). Feels like Sunday. No more unread books in ownership. Messy room. Having to clean messy room. Enjoyable blog probably dying.

Unknown: Body thinking it is Sunday, when in fact it is Tuesday. Weird. Josh's idea of what constitutes constructive criticism. (Just for the record, "I fucking hate the background on your blog right now" is an opinion, not constructive criticism.) The fact that all clocks in my room are up to ten minutes early, and cannot remember which is which.

Ciao,
Sarae, 11:47 AM
while listening to Sleater-Kinney - The Last Song
[More]
No comments

Monday May 19, 2003

Pee before reading; this is long
So. I saw the Matrix. The second one, of course.

All this hoopla, the weeks of advertising and promoting and whatnot really didn't get to me. I looked at it like any other science-fictiony sequel (much in the same vein of LoTR, Star Wars, et al) which was supposed to be groundbreaking and spectacular and beyond your imaginations. You know, those movies where the good parts are shoved recklessly together into previews and commercials, leaving the rest of the movie dull and predictable.

Or I expected it to be like the second Star Wars and first LoTR (I would assume the second as well, but I never bothered to waste a second of my time watching it) wherein the graphics were supposed to be seamless, unobtusive and integrated so well that you actually believe that what you're seeing all exists, outside of the movie itself - but doesn't quite happen. I cringed, watching Star Wars on DVD, at how pathetically fake it all was. Yes, perhaps if I were a fan to begin with I'd let it slide - except I enjoyed the LoTR books. Quite a bit, actually - but the movies (or rather, movie)? No. I'll pass.

So I was going to let this all slip past me - until I caught part of The Matrix on FOX about two weeks ago. And I remembered: this is cool. This looked real, because they didn't try to make people animate (much) but because they made the world animated. So tonight I went.

I will now end this shortly, because I'm bored and no one's that interested. Plot: understandably lax. Special effects: non living objects good, living objects poor. (I repeat: do not gratuitously animate any more humans.) Soundtrack: exceptional, except for the rotten DMB song at the end. Credit organization: Piss-poor. You may think you're being funny, arranging it alphabetically by actor's last name, but no. It's not funny. Sex scene: Hot.

Overall? I'm glad I paid only three dollars for it. Surely on a bigger screen the annoying video game quality would be even more grating. If those computer tweaked fight scenes fooled anyone, then, well... it just proves that humans can be stupid, stupid creatures.

Ciao,
Sarae, 10:47 PM
while listening to
[Just this]
1 comment

Saturday May 17, 2003

I have just two simple, pressing questions to ask today. Two questions that no one will respond to, but y'know - at least they're out there.

One: Are there people out there who still use screensavers? I mean, seriously?

Two: Are there actually people who don't like tequila shots?

Ciao,
Sarae, 05:04 PM
while listening to
[Just this]
No comments

Thursday May 15, 2003

Right now, I wish more than anything that I was outside on this gloriously weathered evening. I can see it through the windows, and the color and the sun and everything is just making me salivate with desire. I'm such a nut. I am the one who took one hundred and sixty-six pictures yesterday afternoon in the span of an hour and a half, tops.

Might I mention that I'm on a serious photography kick?

Ciao,
Sarae, 07:40 PM
while listening to
[Just this]
No comments

* * *

Also:
I saw a female duck today in our backyard. I went to take pictures of her, but scared her away while wrestling with the plastic sheeting-covered patio door. Oh well.

Thought you should know.

Ciao,
Sarae, 03:34 AM
while listening to
[Just this]
No comments

* * *

Dear Sir and Madam:
So, as an awkward way to lighten the mood (y'know, bring back the yuks.. at least Yvette claims to have cracked a smile from time to time. Then again, that may have been the Vazoplex) I would like to offer this, fresh from my short stack of old floppies. That's right. At some point in my life, I decided it of utmost importance that I acquire (and save for future confusion) a midi file of the ending song from Monty Python's "Life of Brian."

Please remember the bulk of this is from '95 and '96. When I was thirteen. And in a year when midis were not quite yet ancient relics.

After looking through a few more of these floppies (what, you expected I'd actually wait til tomorrow?) I would like to offer a very humble, achingly sincere apology to anyone who knew me when I was thirteen. Or fourteen. In fact, I'd like to extend the apology to anyone with whom I may have had even the briefest of conversations with at that age.

I know all people that age are intolerable, but yes. The contents are that bad.

Perhaps if I get drunk anytime in the future, I'll post one or two in their very embarrassing glory. And just because I've said this, I will not be drinking for the next month, in order to stave off any possibility of this happening.

The one good thing is that a good six years after first desperately craving a specific cd, I own it. I've owned it for a good year and a half, but that's beside the point.

Ciao,
Sarae, 03:31 AM
while listening to 'Always Look on the Bright Side of Life'
[Just this]
No comments

* * *

Maybe one day soon
I have a hard time, letting go of the past. Today I went home with innocent intentions, a simple plan that would take no more than an hour. Instead, I spent seven hours away, laughing and thinking and realizing.

As a joke, because he was being a surly teenager who acts like they don't care about anything, I went into my brother's room to clean. I cleared two shelves of inconsequential things - old books, boxes of cards - and stepped back, getting little joy. But, suddenly I knew what I had to do.

It's a process that's been going on slowly here at my apartment, without even realizing it. However, in my bedroom, the room I slept in nightly for three years, the room I cried in and yelled in, it snowballed into something concrete and intentional. This was the room in which I sat, visiting with a handful of friends before we ever moved in, empty save for an unused fishtank and shrieked - hollow joy echoing off a household of bare walls - hiding from myself, from everyone, the pressing fear and hatred of change. This was the room that was mine, from the walls (light grey) to the light fixture (none, by choice); the smattering of Monet prints carefully framed and the desk placed in a passive-aggressive location to dissuade visitors. This room is not mine. Like an archeological site, my past presence is still apparent if you look - beyond the stacks of insurance information, of medical bills and of new, frilly fabrics covering my minimal grey-and-black, I'm there. My artifacts are there.

It began with the removal of anything me from the bulletin board. My neatly assembled list of colleges I was accepted to, waitlisted at; my concert stubs and my lists of other inconsequential things. All are gone now. Then my desk: every iota of my existence has been shoved into one tiny drawer. (To be fair, this is primarily stationary and unused CD-R's.) Then my dresser, both atop and inside. My closet doors. My other dresser. My old pieces from long-ago taken art course, stuck haphazardly between a file cabinet and other flat, vertical surface. It's all gone, thrown wildly into my trash can (then later, once that'd been overfilled, into two large garbage bags.)

I saved little. A handful of diskettes with things like, "Sara: non-school writing" and "Sara: stuff" scrawled on the labels have been spirited away to the apartment. Tomorrow I will sort through and save important items in various other locations. The rest is gone, stuffed into the rain-splattered trash can in our backyard. Old, unimportant schoolwork. Doodles, lists for myself, plans. The notes I'd long ago sorted by author and placed in shoeboxes were unceremoniously dumped into the same bag, mixing in some sort of bittersweet reunion. Or so one could take it, were they sentimental.

The photos have been saved, except for the few found cropped and taped together. Once they were in montage frames, visual depiction of my life, the happy-looking scenes that give off the illusion of a happy life. I have to remind myself to not cement photographs of people in any significant way anymore. For nearly every picture, I remember the day it represents, some day long ago, or one that's relatively recent. For those chosen to be gathered, the ones I put work into, I remember the work put into the selection, the preparation, the assemblage. It all seems so silly and superficial, now. My room is in no way devoid of me, and I doubt it ever will be. But there is that calm that comes after settling something, especially when you had no idea that it was still lingering. And the timing was right: now, when I'm making a fully concious change, a completely subconcious one springs from nowhere. Now, when I'm so filled with memories and pointless anniversaries and reminisces and general thoughts of the past, now is when I'm able to break with it.

Sometimes the best ideas are the things that just happen, without analyzing and rethinking and second-guessing. It's a shame that those are the things I take comfort in.

Ciao,
Sarae, 03:04 AM
while listening to Fountains of Wayne - Troubled Times
[More]
No comments

Tuesday May 13, 2003

Oh yeah

• Last week, I was apparently into the term "get my swerve on." This was due to semi-drunken Fraternity Life watching.
  
• Tonight, I am very into my skirt. And new purse. This new purse is quite possibly the best purse ever made. It is so great that I, never one to boast, am thrusting it into people's faces and demanding that they admire my pretty new purse. Not just admire, but to agree that this is indeed the best purse on the planet. So far, they have. Damn skippy.
  
• I've been sitting at the table, sewing, for so long today that now, while I'm at something distinctly a keyboard (and therefore, not a sewing machine) I have the compulsion to guide fabric forward, and to step on a pedal. My computer has no pedal, sadly.
  
• I must go. Katie is talking back to the sex lady. This is not a good sign.
  
• The phone really ought to ring. I've been threatening for weeks to answer the phone in a breathless voice, stating, "Katie's house of sex, how may we service you?" I haven't, because the idea of it being a parent is beyond terrifying.

Ciao,
Sarae, 11:01 PM
while listening to The sex lady and her rockin' accent.
[Just this]
No comments

* * *

It's so hard for you
I've discovered a new, extremely fun way to spend finals week. Once you're finished with your own exams (and therefore have no lingering feeling of sympathy for those still needing to cram), you wear your loudest flipflops. You know the pair - the ones that clank when you step on hard flooring, as well as make the satisfying flip when they smack your foot on the way up. Then you walk through a library where people are frantically cramming every bit of information from their courses.

It's amazing, the dirty looks you get.

Ciao,
Sarae, 01:01 PM
while listening to Sleater-Kinney - One More Hour
[Just this]
No comments

* * *

Shiny shiny pants and bleach-blonde hair
Once this week is up, I will write the stories that have been accumulating. Stories brought about by songs, stories from nothing, stories about things. This is the plan, and I must make myself stick to it. The next few weeks are all about staunch self-discipline.

In lieu of anything truly interesting, I offer the following tidbits: Kirk Penney likes Macs, and Rene Bourque likes John Mayer. True. I did not laugh, for I do not currently have a death wish.

Ciao,
Sarae, 02:20 AM
while listening to Wilco - Heavy Metal Drummer
[Just this]
No comments

Monday May 12, 2003

Fin
I'm through with this semester. It's a little odd, and hasn't quite sunk in yet. I think it won't for some time, since it doesn't really feel as though the school year's over: I don't need to worry about finding an acceptable sublet, I don't need to pack up everything I own and move, and I don't need to fret about having new roomates. It's more than a little odd.

For the next few weeks, I can do whatever I want. I can do those things that I've been putting off due to school. I have a feeling that I'll forget them, though.

It's been ages since I've last watched a Law & Order rerun. I think I've seen them all, and mindlessly rewatching one doesn't seem fun anymore.

I'm exhausted, but can't take a nap. In a bit, I will be whisked away to home, where I will see my mother as penance for having to miss Mother's Day. There I will do laundry, torment my brother because I am done with school, and continue to not let that fact sink in. And probably consume incredible amounts of caffeine.

Ciao,
Sarae, 11:26 AM
while listening to Law & Order rerun
[Just this]
No comments

Sunday May 11, 2003

In addition to the hindsight, I am also all about the instant gratification. Oh yeah, baby.

Ciao,
Sarae, 04:41 PM
while listening to cars in rain
[Just this]
No comments

Saturday May 10, 2003

That tornado siren sure is loud. Makes it kind of hard to concentrate. Or think. Ow.

Ciao,
Sarae, 09:02 PM
while listening to
[Just this]
No comments

* * *

Livin' my life in a slow hell
Having a lot of time to think (see: unable to fall asleep ever; see: inability to concentrate all of brain on flashcards) recently, I've come to the conclusion that I could live my life exceedingly well. The only problem is that this requires rewinding a few years and going from there. If I could start college over knowing what I know now, I would be so set. I am all about the hindsight.

I just hope that my recent decision to wash my purse in the sink doesn't turn out to be one of those numerous mistakes.

Ciao,
Sarae, 03:24 PM
while listening to Lucido Felice - Bohemian Rhapsody
[Just this]
No comments

Friday May 9, 2003

I make myself unhappy so you'll go
The best time to watch MTV is a bit before four, when you're slowly becoming sober, only to find a Tegan and Sara video playing. This leads to staring agape at the tv, trying to figure out if the video is real or an (goddamned synonyms) illusion of your tired, stressed, saddened and alcohol-soaked brain.

It's not.

At least I am good about not doing that which I am not supposed to do. Sometimes. If someone tells me, at least. God I'm tired.

Ciao,
Sarae, 03:52 AM
while listening to Tegan and Sara - Monday Monday Monday
[Just this]
No comments

Wednesday May 7, 2003

And you're the only one you'll scar
I never really believed in things. I did, however, used to believe in people.

I no longer believe in them.

Ciao,
Sarae, 12:30 AM
while listening to The Murmurs - You Suck
[More]
No comments

Monday May 5, 2003

Just play with my hair and I'll be happy
Here's to small victories and amusements.

Ciao,
Sarae, 12:51 AM
while listening to The Murmurs - Squeezebox Days
[More]
No comments

Saturday May 3, 2003

Date-rape has a new meaning in the apartment. The term now refers to when my roommate attempts to discuss ghosts, her scary-ass dreams, snakes, or the green phlegm she's been dealing with recently. Not specifically, mind you: but she always starts talking about these things and I say, quite clearly, "No."

When she persists in the manner, I just say, "Katie, no means no." Somehow this persistence translates into a vague concept of date-rape. I'm not entirely sure how.

I'm tired, you see. Two hours of sleep in the past twenty four does not exactly cut it.

Ciao,
Sarae, 04:50 AM
while listening to
[Just this]
No comments

* * *

Important lesson
I've learned that, at nearly four in the morning, a roomate yelling your name will keep you from falling asleep. And having to rush outside due to incredible amounts of sooty smoke/haze billowing into your apartment from the hallway, and covering the stairwell, will sober you up rather quickly. Incredibly quickly, I might add.

Once I found my shoes, anyways.

Ciao,
Sarae, 04:17 AM
while listening to
[Just this]
No comments

Friday May 2, 2003

Good morning starshine
So, it's garish. Bright. Quite possibly not me. Definitely not finished. And, staring at the umbrella (yes, that's an umbrella) I realized that I had the April showers/May flowers cliche backwards, but who cares! May is right smack between rainy rainy April and bright sunny June, so deal with it, folks.

In an unrelated anecdote, yesterday's high point is a toss-up between singing that old 70s song "Good Morning Sunshine" with my mother, father and entire Simpsons cast to my brother (he looked at us rather oddly), and getting caught on the far west side in a pouring thunderstorm wherein I had to remember how to use windshield wipers and the AC, and how to drive in a straight line when you can't quite see the lane markers. Good fun!

Ciao,
Sarae, 02:31 AM
while listening to
[Just this]
No comments