Start stop and start

Lo!
And it is fall now!
Here are the latest of foibles from my newest season!

Act I- That job I shouted out last time is not for me. They told me I was too awesome, I respect that decision. I do have another interview for tomorrow and if that doesn't make me an honest woman, well who knows? Honesty is pretty much a gift from Christians and blunt grandmas; I am neither. Just slow (and lazy) and tedious, one of those start and stop glides from a Rankin-Bass catwalk. Eventually I'll find my own way out of this tricky foxhole. I'll try to do it gracefully and if you like, you may watch.

Act II- I love ice cream.

Act III- I plan to see the Lady Dot Walker tonight. She is one of maybe five people who would test well in a test of knowing me well. So we will later chill like polka-dotted twins at a bargain basement freak show. We're not THAT crazy, this show is not THAT expensive. Still fun, though. Come see, come see. I don't know what any of that means.

ACT IV- And here I'd place a scene for my play that made my character fly because I've always wanted to soar over a classily dressed audience while wearing an aerial harness.

Fin.

geek.

Well I am lucky. Pretty damn smug and pretty damn happy. In life, I guess there are valid moments where people get excited, narc-like urges to yell public declarations from rooftops. And because I don't have a rooftop but because I'm geeky enough to have a blog, I'll just do my town crier-ing from the warm indoors. Except no, not actually anything town crier-ish but more something like yeah!, I'm too happy to be a part of that!, and then if you know me you can think yeah!, so we are happy right back for you!

And this is what love looks like in the hands of Sarah Jane. I am fine with all of it.

I guess the Beavers won, anyway

Shit. I just watched a movie on Lifetime. I was going to watch the football game and then "Forever Love" came on, starring Reba McEntire as a lady who wakes up from a 20 year coma. During that stay, Reba's best friend and husband fell in grief-drunk love with each other. So awkward. They had a very hard time working through the slog of that. In addition, Reba kept freaking out about cell phones and found out that her parents had died while she napped. That's tough! The real Moment of the picture happened when Reba got dramatic and ran away to San Diego to prance around in the house where she grew up. That's when she mentally squared herself with all the infidelity.

This was a very sage film. Much to learn. Most important: if you have an early stroke and get knocked down for 20 years, you can pick up a new accent. Young Reba(San Diegan!) + premature stroke = voice with Oklahomish dazzle tones. This probably was some psychosomatic coping device. Personally, I'd be upset if I woke up and found my husband and best friend dating, but yes, maybe the first few weeks would totally be easier if I could listen to and make cool new sounds out of old boring words.

My top favorite movie. Ever. Go OSU!

You'd better look out because I'm gonna eat duck

I wanted to buy some scones today. I was downtown and went into a deli and they had samples of a weird salad made with vegetables and duck pieces. I love vegetables. I sometimes enjoy new things. I'm a person with layers. But let me drop some science: I do not like eating ducks. They feel greasy and thin and chewy. I have no time for eating ducks.

Scones, however...deeeeelicious.

I threw some information at a place today. I guess it's September. I'm excited for leaves and rain and jackets. I'm looking forward to eating soup again. Tomato soup is my favorite. It's almost Saturday and that's fantastic. Also, I hope that this year when the ducks fly south for the winter they just decide to stay forever. It's a perennial dream. Apparently, I plain hate that ducks exist. They remind me of piano lessons at a house on a canal. This was a pink stucco house with a vicious lady and every Tuesday when I arrived the ducks were there, guarding the place like Cerberus. Ghastly. And they like to eat wet bread? So useless.

I hated to quit the roids, too

I scanned my favorite pictures from when I used a polaroid. That money pit was my lone camera for a solid two years before I created fire, ate the dinosaurs and bought a digital. Go look at them now. Polaroids are very selfish/expensive and owners like me never give them away without a fight. But one, two and three years later, I'm all for reparation and a few moments are newly available to the world.

If you are in any one of these, thanks very much. I wouldn't bust out a Washington for just any old memory so you must be damn awesome in my book.

Viva technology.

You can go home again

You just have to stoke a fat entourage and an affectionate tolerance for hangovers.





And a quick PSA-
I'd like to apologize to the season ticket holders at the misadvocation of me. I've been a total pantywaist lately and that's never a passel of laughs. I want you jackals to know how I'm Off To Kick That Stigma In Its Balls and plan to further proceed with strong glory. The gait will be upped, the lazy ambling will be euthanized, other tall orders will be served, and you'll have an honest Sarah with backbone and sparkle...once again. I love the shit out of you all; I appreciate your ears and head cuffs and frowns and believings and even the strong pistol whippings with the word guns. Will send notice.