Sunday, October 28, 2007

When I think of it in poetry, it was a GOOD night.

Last night Nika invited me to a bonfire at her uncles house. Suppressing my insane need to arrive everywhere early, I arrived just on time. Incidentally, I was the first one there. :( Apparently, this was one of those "fashionably late" events. Oh well.

The sky was covered in not-quite-ominous looking clouds but the fire was warm and the host was friendly. I waited. When Nika and J arrived, we made hot dogs over the fire right before the rain began to fall. Here comes the poetry: we were huddled under an umbrella like an island of safety while the heat of the fire fought with the cold of the rain. Finally, the rain decided to exit gracefully. Smores, hot coco, and hot cider followed. More friends arrived and we talked and laughed in the glow of the flames, resting on bales of hay.

Later, we all went to the movies to see Dan in Real Life. Only about halfway through the movie did it occur to me that I was the only single person in a group of couples, but that didn't matter at all. As we were leaving the theatre, I noticed the sky had finally cleared, revealing a bright moon and only a couple brave stars.

Thanks Nika.

Sarah Jo

Saturday, October 20, 2007

This is how I show my anger.

"Will you come pick me up?" He asks over the phone. It's more of a prompting than a question; he thinks he knows the answer.
"No." I reply casually, as if he had asked me if I'd like a Popsicle or if I'd seen the latest blockbuster.
"No?" He struggles, trying to make his lips, tongue, and teeth work together to form this foreign word.
"No." I repeat in my best friendly voice.
"What do you mean?" He gropes for understanding because, contrary to all obvious evidence, I can't really mean "no", can I?
"I mean 'no', as in, 'no, I will not come pick you up'" I clarify. Poor thing, hes so confused.
"Um . . . okay." Silence. "Can I talk to mom?"

(Yes, I am satisfied.)

Wednesday, October 17, 2007


I had a bad day. I'm so tired of crying at work. I want a job that doesn't make me cry. I keep telling myself that I graduate in May and then can go do something else, but now Katie is leaving and it's not going to be the same without her. I thought I was going to visit her in Canada but that fell through and now theres only that distant future that's so foggy I can't make anything out.

School is great this semester. I haven't complained about it, have I? I can't remember. But, work is another matter. I just had my annual review and it didn't go so well. She told me what I should do to improve and I tried that today and she told me I had a really good day, but it wasn't good at all. Why should I try harder when I care so little? I know I should work hard at what I do because I'm getting paid to do it well, but a person can only handle so many mean, mad, grumpy people and still be able to smile.

Let me talk about something positive now. Katelyn and I finished the book! Now, we are going to get it printed and give copies to a couple people to read and give us their (constructive) criticism. Hopefully, people wont hate it. Then, I guess we try to get an agent. We'll see where it goes from there.

I dunno. I'm in an awfully sour mood. I have been all day. Being around people didn't help. Maybe I'll go be alone now. Me, and a book.

Sad, Sad, Sarah Jo

Tuesday, October 02, 2007

Bad stuff happens like the seasons around here.

So, after 12 years at one place, my dad got laid off. As you can imagine, it is a little frightening to have the source of income to dissapear. However, my dad is always calm and resilient, making even a crises seem like a minor setback. Hes not upset. I asked him how he could remain so calm and he told me that much worse things could have happened.

It reminds me the day of my grandma's (his moms) funeral. There we were, standing in the line at the front of the church where people are supposed to walk by and offer their condolences like some kind of grieving recieving line. But, I wasnt shaking anyones hand or listening, I was clinging to my dad and crying all over his shirt while he held me like the world wasn't falling apart. That will always be my most prominent memory of him, like a summary or a defining moment. This is my father: the one person who didn't expect me to cry, the one person who held me until I was finished.

Dad said, "What bad can happen as long as we are all together? We'll get through this, Red." And I suppose we did. And I suppose we will.