Wednesday, May 30, 2007

I DO have standards . . . and you don't meet them.

Ashley J mentioned the other day that something seemed "off" with me. Maybe I agree. I dunno. I'm not sure which version of me she is comparing the current me to, since she has been in Michigan most of the time for the last three years, and well, three years is a long time. Maybe. . . she just isn't used to me anymore. Or something.

Summertime is lovely, if not unproductive. Yes, the stress of school is gone, kind of like the waves disappearing, giving me time to breathe. But, without a little motion in the water, it just turns to a stagnant, dead pool. Nobody wants that.

Today, I had an "ouch" moment. You know the moments where you realize what you wish would happen is never going to happen? I mean, I can pretend for weeks, even months at a time, that everything is going the way I would love it to go but then. . . . *ouch* Oh well, its not good to hold on to false hopes anyway, right?

Ewww! Today, I customer informed me that he was passing a kidney stone. While. I. Waited. On. Him. Ewww.

So, Katelyn and I started writing books together. Its going well and its SO much fun. Its amazing to get to create characters and put them in situations and decide how everything turns out. I am learning that authors aren't crazy when they say that characters make them do things. After all, if Leena did this, she wouldn't be Leena, would she? But then, you don't know Leena. I don't know if you ever will.

Yesterday, I decided that I like Micheal Buble. 'specially the romantic tunes.

Oh! I have another story! Denise said she was at the drugstore the other day and some man told her she looked familiar. She said she worked at the License agency. He said he was there the other day and that young red-haired girl was just a joy, and she was cute too. Then, he apparently wished to revise his statement by insisting that he was a "christian man" and he meant it in a "christian way". Haha. When Denise told me this story my response was:
"He was old, wasn't he?"

Yep. Old guys and sex offenders have the hots for me! Oh, and I can't forget the toothless, alcoholic black men at the drive-thru. I'm thinking the next shirt that I order should say something like, "I DO have standards. . . and you don't meet them." It's gonna be great!

Well, I think I'll go daydream and wonder, plant some angst and see what blooms.

Sarah Jo

Saturday, May 12, 2007

You should really read this one:

I walked into work this morning and my boss informed me that I had a letter. A letter? At work? Apparently everyone else felt the same curiosity. Who would send me a letter at work? I examined the envelope. It only said "Sarah" and then our work address. Whoever this is, obviously doesn't know my last name. I looked at the return address. "Manno" in Lebanon. I don't know anyone named Manno, and I don't know anyone in Lebanon. Perhaps a customer?
I open the letter:


Hello. I feel weird doing this, mostly because I don't usually write to
strangers I see, but also because I'm really shy.

But here I go, because when I saw you and talked to you, there felt like
there was something I couldn't ignore. I don't know how to describe it, really,
but it was there in the way you smiled, the way we flirted back and forth . . .

WHOA! Stop right there! Flirted? I don't flirt. Whats going on here? I continue reading. The letter goes on to describe in detail just how I made this person feel. Then, he describes himself. I remember him. Oh no! I remember him! (I'll tell you all about that in a minute.) Next:

. . . I hope I'm not overstepping my boundaries here, but you are a very friendly and absolutely gorgeous young woman. You have a wonderful personality and I
loved the way you were "dancing" to the songs in your head. Yes, I did mention
you are pretty, and I meant it. I think your smile and your freckles are your
best attribute. There are other things I noticed, but I'll save that for later.

My hands are shaking and I think I might get sick. Really.

But I felt a nervous calmness around you. Like it was easy to chat with you,even though I was nervous and every word you spoke was like a symphony.

Oh. My. Gosh. Is he serious? Is this for real? Oh yes, he certainly is. Well, he goes on to explain what I already knew; he is currently an inmate of Lebanon Correctional Facility. He wants me to write him. He wants to see where we can go from there. He says that we can be friends "for now".

What did my co-workers say? "You should write him back! Look at his nice handwriting! He sounds smart. Maybe it's nothing serious. You know, he's just in the place for minor offenses. At least ask him what he did."

Would you like to know what he did? Because, thanks to the Internet and the information he so willingly gave me, I know EXACTLY what he did. Domestic Violence. Gross Sexual Imposition. I dont even know what that second one means, but it does sound good! And he's 32 years old! I'm not writing back to some 32 year old sex offender inmate who wants to tell me what else he noticed later. In fact, next time he comes in , I'm hiding. Thats right: Hiding.

My thoughts? Since when did being nice and bubbly mean I was flirting with someone? Now do I have to STOP being nice and bubbly around men? And why is that my very first love letter comes from a much-older criminal person? What happened to the nice young men? Dang it!

Write him back, indeed. Silly girls.

So, I remember asking what was so hard about someone thinking me to be absolutely amazing. I would like to revise. What is so hard about someone I find amazing finding me to be amazing as well. Geez. Next time, I'll clarify.

Sarah I-don't-want-anymore-letters Jo

Tuesday, May 08, 2007

Books = delicious


So, I started writing this poem and no matter what I do to it, I'm not happy. Nothing fits. It feels like the first and last verse are just pasted on there. No matter how I change it, it seems unsatisifed. I like the middle, but I don't think its saying enough, so I keep trying to fix it, to no avail. Anyway, I'm sharing here because I have nothing better to do with it.

Now, I'm going to go back to reading Twilight where, just like the main character, I am in love with Edward the Vampire.

When did I fall in love with you?

When did I fall in love with you?
Was it too subtle for you to see?
Let me show you all the ways
you romanced me:

It’s Tuesday and
you are singing softly
as I am keeping time
with my hand on my knee
and the melody
is bit off-key
but it doesn’t phase me
because you are
about love and forever
and looking into my eyes
and it’s Tuesday.

It’s Sunday and
I am slowing fading
in the passenger seat
the music
and the hum of the engine
weave a lullaby
and you cast a spell
with your thumb
tracing lazy patterns
on my knee
and the song plays
about happiness and passion
as you are touching me
and it’s Sunday.

It’s Thursday and
we are laughing
leaning forward
over cups of warm caffeine
sharing our thoughts
dreams and
your face is alight
all covered in honesty and excitement
as you talk
about beauty and romance
and you are smiling at me
and it’s Thursday.

When did I fall in love with you?
It was in moments like these
when I was with you,
and you were with me.

Sarah Jo!