Sunday, August 27, 2006

I wrote a poem about you. . .

I guess I dont say much anymore. I used to write those long, introspective entries all the time. (Is that was this is going to be?) But. . . I don't do that so often. Why?

I dont know for sure, but I have tons of ideas.
I won't list them.

Classes started and I know that this semester will be challanging but nothing I cannot handle.
I've been writing a lot of poetry lately. That, I had not done for a while either, but I was inspired. This will not, however, become my forum for posting every single thing I write. That would either get very boring for you or very personal for me and neither one of us likes both of those possibilities.

But I've found that I've already said everything I wanted to say in a less wordy, but more eloquent style.

One that note,
I take my leave.

Sarah Jo

Saturday, August 26, 2006

I never thought I would admit this but. . .

My throat hurts.

From talking too much.

Sarah Jo

Friday, August 25, 2006

You and I.

Do you remember the stories our mothers told us?
We used to run around naked together
abandoning onesie and diaper for the promise of
You and I.

Do you remember playing in Grandma’s pool?
We must have played The Little Mermaid
and our pretend-games hundreds of times
in that water,
You and I.

Do you remember talking for hours in the dark?
We would giggle across the blackness
chasing away fear and holding today hostage
in the way of youth,
You and I.

Do you remember the first books we read together?
We escape so often to our fantasy lands of
Hogwarts, Partholon, Alagasia, Atlantis,
and Narnia,
You and I.

Do you know what is going to happen tomorrow?
We cannot hold the day hostage anymore
but I know that many stories I have yet to tell
will certainly end with:
You and I.

Sunday, August 20, 2006


The toilet seat broke, snapped right in half. I didn't notice before I recieved an unexpected pinch. My mothers solution: wrap a washcloth around it. My current state of almost-germaphob-ness would not allow this to continue. My plan, now carried out, involved me learning where the toilet seats are located at lowes, and discovering that I don't need a man to fix it, just directions.

Monday, August 14, 2006

Flaming Marshmallows! (do not taste good)

Something about smores around a fire, a girly movie, and a perfect Sunday. Details are better left to the imagination. I like writing in cursive and watching movies and the way your facial expressions change as you tell me about something you find engrossing. I live in anticipation and excitement over the smallest things and I'm easily distracted and disappointed and I like spending time with people more than I like to hear, "I love you." Delighted, that's what I am. With the way the sun shines through the raindrops on my windshield and the way my purse unzips all the way and the way the ink flows out of that pen so liquid and dark and rich. I like to talk too much and tell you everything little thing I think about every little thing until I think you don't care anymore. And I like spontaneity AND structure. Its comforting to have a routine but its fun to decide at 7:20 that we should go see the 7:30 movie. I want to say the same thing over and over because I like saying it so much and I want you to listen because you like being with me that much. And I

am done.

Sarah Jo