Thats what SHE said!

I would like to share some important things I learned yesterday. While they are separate lessons, they are all intimately related.

First: When bleach is poured into the place marked "liquid bleach only" in our washing machine, it simply runs out the bottom of the machine onto the laundry room floor.

Second: It is not a good idea when separating the laundry to leave the blacks piled up in front of the washing machine on the laundry room floor.

Finally: Black dye for clothing cannot undo the damage bleach has wrought.


In other news, after the urging of several parties, I watched the office. Every episode. And yes, it is amazing and wonderful and other positive adjectives. You were right. Now, I feel the need to spread the Office gospel, because I have been converted and I am new! Haha. And I do feel the need to share a quote from Dwight: "I know what you are thinking: Won't that just shed more light on the penises?"

More excitement? There is. I'll tell you about it, and then answer your questions:

I went on a date. (I know, right?)
I'm turning 21 REALLY soon. (Yes!)
Katelyn and I are writing a book together. (Yes, when it's finished.)
I tried asparagus. (No, it was green. Of course I didn't like it.)
I'm going to Europe. (August, 2008.)
Now I have a real cell phone plan where I can actually talk to people and stuff. (T-mobile.)
I now officially hate my job. (New people, old people gone, negativity, stuff.)


I guess that covers it. Now we won't have anything to talk about, will we?

Sarah Jo

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?"
"Yeah"

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

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:

Sarah,

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

Books = delicious

Hi!

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
singing
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
insecurities
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!

Title-smitle

Hi!

I started reading back over past posts, as I sometimes do, and it made me like me more, as it usually does. So, on those days when I can't figure out why I do this blog thing, I should remember that it is a good reflection of my personal growth/exploration/what-have-you. And, unfailingly, no matter how much I change or grow, there is always the most important part of me crying out in the loudest voice. No matter what is happening in life, I've noticed three things I write about: my relationship with God, how much I want/enjoy talking with other people, and happiness.

Everything is not always okay. Sometimes, I feel that I could not handle one more thing. Other times, I feel so happy and content that I might just explode. Today, I am in the middle portion of that continuum, or, as my health professor would say, I'm living in the margin.

Something else I've noticed? I nearly always get what I want, even if sometimes I have to wait a very long time. Other times, I realize that the things I didn't get, are things I didn't really want in the first place. God is awesome and I am spoiled rotten. *grin*

So, thinking over something I've wanted for a VERY long time, I will tell myself that I will get that too, even if I have to wait a VERY long time.

I'm happy.
I'm happy.
I'm happy.
(Let's try to keep it that way.)

Sarah Jo!

*Smile*

Because thats what I've been doing since I found the mountain dew this morning. I don't drink very much pop, but apparently it is an effective cure for evil-morning-Sarah.

Two more days of classes and I can spend three months allowing my brain to slowly dissolve into a jello-like puddle of jello-like stuff. (Dissolving has aparently already begun.)

I wish I had some wonderful story to tell you involving a handsome gentleman and an adventure that changed my life, but. . . I don't. Oh wait, I do! Once upon a time I was all kinda sad on the inside and pretend-happy on the outside and I was sure that I would crumble into a thousand pieces with the unstable world I was living in. Then, someone introduced me to a Man that loved me so much, He actually died for me. Ever since then, I have been falling more and more in love with the very One that fell in love with me. Oh, and it changed my life. The end!

I know, I know; you knew that story already.

This perfume is making me smell magically Delicious. You should feel sad that you cant smell it right now. If you were here, I would hug you to make you happy again and then you would smell my perfume and be twice as happy!

I went for coffee with Katie again. It didn't last three hours this time, but I dont think that was an improvement. Long talks = awesome. Yes, my verbal abilities astound.

Okay, well, this is obviously not going well. I'll try to write something when my life gets interesting.

Sarah Jo

A waste of your precious time follows.

I don't really have anything in particular to share, just the urge to communicate. So, here I go:

At church this morning we had a speaker (I can't remember her name) who has written 14? books so far; the first was Jesus CEO. She was a very moving speaker. Then. . . I came home.

Hmmm. This is not a very interesting entry. Maybe you should go find something more entertaining. Maybe I should grab someone off the streets and make them tell me about their feelings. Or. . . solitaire? homework? reading? knitting? eh.

I think I'm going to join a small group at church.
Thursday a beetle hit me in the face.
I'm going to have a niece.
I've got a week and a half left of school.
I'm kind of looking forward to that first sunburn.
I'm currently addicted to Jimmy Needham.
Theres a large yellow jacket outside the window right now.
I would like to go lay a blanket on the grass and close my eyes and daydream, but the neighbors would stare and their dog would investigate me.
I got a random free hug today!

Okay, I'm distracted. I'll go.

Sarah Jo!

Pink stuff and whipped cream!

Last night I went to a comedy club for the very first time! It was fun minus the old guy at the end talking about his penis several times. I dunno what that was about. Yay for new experiences!

And. . . Katie asked me join her for coffee after work and it was much fun as we talked about boys, excuse me, guys for quite some time. Other topics were covered. Apparently, three and a half hours is not too long for coffee. Oh, and the coffee-shop-worky-lady/girl gave us free drinks! She said that she saw our drinks were empty and she was bored, so she made some new concoction involving strawberry bomb and vanilla. My mouth liked the concoction.

And now my mouth would like some, uh, food. I'm thinking the hamburger wagon. Have you ever been there before? Its good like. . . stuff that tastes good!

Sarah Jo

Juice!

Is there anything better? Well, yes, but right now this wonderful creation is what's making my mouth, and therefore, me, happy.

Yes, that was all I had to say.

Sarah Jo!

Current Status: Choas

I've come to view my desk as a reflection of my life. When a new semester starts, I've got all my books and folders organized into neat piles. Everything is in its place. As the semester progresses, those piles turn into scattered papers on the desk, backpack on the floor, books haphazardly piled on the chairs, the bookshelf, any horizontal surface. Then comes summer, and a nice layer of dust settles on the now clutter free surface.

Similarly, as a new semester starts I prepare. I am organized and ready to go. Then, I procrastinate and stop putting things in the dividers I so carefully labeled. I've got three projects going at once and they are all due tomorrow. Finally, I've survived and I have three months to recuperate from the self-induced stress. Usually, this involves reading books that have no educational value whatsoever. Yay!

Presently, summer will arrive and I can sell back these books and dump the contents of these folders and shake the dust of education from my heels for a season.

For tonight, I have a five-page paper to write and its 1:30am. Go me!

Sarah Jo

AndsothenIdidthisanditwassoamazingthatI'lltellyouthestoryforthenexttwentyminutesokay?

Katelyn and I went to 1835 tonight and it was amazing fun. Lots of people from the service went for dinner at IHOP afterwards; fun ensued. As Forrest Gump would say, thats all I have to say about that.

So, in the past two weeks I've encountered two people that have clearly not learned the art of conversation, more specifically, the turn-taking part. Usually, you say something and I respond and add something that you respond to etc. . . but not so with these two. They just keep talking and talking and talking with the only chance to respond is "mmhmm". Tangents pop up out of no where until I don't remember what point they were discussing in the first place.

With the first, I said "hello" without knowing what I was getting into. Five minutes later, I manage to extricate myself from the monologue about 30 years of teaching experience. Oh. My. Goodness. I backed up, she followed. I said the normal good-bye type things, "well. . . I better go", "thanks for sharing that with me", "it was nice to meet you", "I'll see you tomorrow". . . it didnt work. I left when someone else walked by and made the same mistake. I bolted.

With the second, I was in a group situation and this person kept talking and talking to me and I couldnt participate in the conversation with the rest of the group. "uh-huh" "I see" "oh?" "mmhmm" "I guess so" "thats interesting" . . . Hello? How do you get out of it? I'm listening to someone recap the entire set of some comedian I've never heard of. Other people at the table are rolling their eyes.

So, what do you do? They are nice people, they are just painful to talk to. Do they not have any idea? Is there a nice way to explain to them whats wrong? Do they care? Would that be appropriate?

There should be classes for this.

Well, they've succeded

With all their coughing and sneezing and snot-wiping and hugs, the second graders have managed to infect me. I swear, they've had it in for me since day one. But, the sickness also falls on the last day of my field experience, my last field experience EVER. I am not going to be a teacher and I NEVER have to spend all day in an elementary school again. Really, the outside world has no idea, no idea what its like in there.

So now I feel like a great burden has been lifted. I've planned my schedule for next semester and its going to be fabulous: only two days of Oxford included.

I joined this group on facebook called "I'm saving myself for wild, passionate, awkward honeymoon sex" or something like that. The message boards are so active that I've been stalking them in an unhealthy manner. But, its nice to see that I'm not the only one, you know? There are even some people that are saving their first kiss for their wedding day. Isn't that great (or some may say, crazy)? But hey, I'm twenty years old and have never kissed anyone, so what are a few more years? I think it would be special. There are so many topics that come up on the boards that make me feel part of something. I thought I was the only one thinking some of these things but then dozens of people are sharing their versions of my own thoughts. Specifically, one topic was about being afraid that if someone REALLY knew you, they wouldn't love you, but it seemed that nearly everyone felt that way. I think we are all secretly insecure about these things. Another topic was about being afraid of ending up alone. I share these feelings and it was reassuring to know that there are other people like me out there (at least 23,000 right now). Other topics are kind of silly and fun. All of this has led to much contemplation on my part, apparently because. . .

Last night I dreamed that I met my future husband and he asked, well no, he told me I was going to marry him and he kissed my forehead and my cheeks (yes, my version of wild, crazy sex dreams haha). Then, I was all sad when I woke up. :( The point of this story? I think I should spend less time on facebook talking about future husbands and more time with, you know, real people.

I think I'll take my infected self to bed and think happy, healing thoughts. Come on immune system! ( I think I might cough on the mean customers tomorrow) *evil laugh*

Sarah Jo

I don't know why I'm always suprised at stuff like this.

I woke up this morning and walked down the stairs. Mom had company; she did not hear me come down the stairs. She did not know I was listening as she carried on a conversation about how much this or that person charges for pain pills, what each one makes her feel, about breaking into my dads cabinet to get pills. She did not know that I heard her yell down the stairs to ask my brother if her guest could have a joint. No, she didn't know how long I stood there. Finally, she sees me, greets me good morning, realizes I'm upset. I tell her that I heard that. "What" she says? "Shannon is just here to see if chris can fix her car." she says. I tell her again that I heard it, I heard everything. "What?" She asks.

So. . .

Did she never quit? Did she quit and start again? How long has she been lying to me? HOW LONG HAS SHE BEEN LYING TO ME?!?!

I didnt ask her this. I left. I havent said a word to her. I don't know what I'm going to do. I'm tired of being lied to. People are going to do what they want to, but why lie to me? She says she doesn't want to upset me, but I'm upset right now.

But, I'm done crying. I don't want to leave anymore. I'm tired of leaving. I'm tired of trusting. I'm tired of all of this.

I don't know how I'm ever going to learn how to trust people.

Deception seems to be the main form of communication in my house. And everyone does whatever they want. It doesnt matter if its illegal. It doesnt matter if its going to hurt everyone around.

I feel like I'm in one of those movies where the gate is closing and the characters are racing to get through the gate before it closes or the building collapses or blows up. I sure hope I can get out before this house crumbles.

Have you seen the new Choco/Nilla Krispies?

Thirty - something black gentleman: Hey
Me: Hi
Him: What yo name?
Me: Sarah
Him: Do I know you?
Me: I don't think so.
Him: Can I GET to know you?
Me: Uh, I don't think so.
Him: Why not? You a pretty lady.
Me: No, no I don't think so.
Him: Well, it don't hurt to try.
Me: No, I guess not

________________________________


So, today I made corn chowder and homemade croutons. It was much tasty. Yum.

Lascivious

Yesterday, I learned how it felt to be leered at.

And then, a customer made a comment about my necklace, asking if I got my beads at Mardi-Gras. I informed him that I will never, ever earn any mardi-gras beads. My next customer exclaimed, "Well, your face isn't so red anymore! Oh, there it goes again!"

And later, Katelyn (not the toddler, but my friend) informed me that my breasts are scary.

Its nice when a day has a theme to it, you know?