she sang her didn't she danced her did

Dear Senate,

Tue, 29 Jan 2008 22:15:20 GMT

I'd like some more money, please.

BFF,
Sarah

Where will your death space be?

Tue, 18 Dec 2007 21:59:35 GMT

I heard about this on public radio this morning.

http://mydeathspace.com/

It's weird, and I felt myself constantly frightened that the next profile would be someone I knew.

Crying and Aging

Mon, 03 Dec 2007 04:46:06 GMT

I feel like that is a sentiment I often admit to. I don't hide the fact that I cry when i watch many cotton commercials. I cry at weddings. I cry when I see a fragment of beauty- a leaf's fall, a child's fear then relief when his parent is out of sight and then back. Sometimes sentiment is beautiful. But sap, oh whenever is sap beautiful? Is this my problem with writing? That I am a sap? Maybe that's why the children's realm is good for me. I am able to edit their moments, but not recreate mine, not without the sap.

I watched a silly hallmark movie tonight and cried during the movie and then again afresh for each hallmark commercial. As if my father had died, I was the old lonely woman, I had lost a child, had changed a student's life.

I turn 24 on tuesday and I ask myself whether I am in the place I thought I would be now. The answer is no. But I am proud of myself, and I believe my 12 year old self would look up to me.

I don't have plans for my birthday. I need to have plans for my birthday.

TIME Magazines Volunteerism Issue

Tue, 11 Sep 2007 14:56:58 GMT

What volunteerism could become if leadership was forward-thinking.

I wonder, though, would my two years of service be rewarded in retrospect? Because, I'll feel more than a little gipped if they get almost their entire college tuition and all I can do is scrounge for 3/8 of mine. Then again, would financial aid be a huge issue then? Any person wanting to take advantage of their service money would have to go to state school? I like a lot of ideas in this article. But, still, they're just ideas.

also, MAMBA, did you know about this?

new digs

Tue, 07 Aug 2007 16:25:56 GMT

I like the new place- although NE MPLS is now even harder to get to with the 35 W bridge out of commission for a couple years at least. My new address might be of some interest to you.

417 5th Ave NE
Apt 3
MPLS, Minnesota 55413

I might be doomed

Wed, 11 Jul 2007 20:51:45 GMT

I don't want to, I never have wanted to. I hated that my parents did it. I've vowed never to be one.

But I might be doomed to be a teacher.

I spent today with two seperate groups of kids working on making publications. The first, for the garden club. We divided the work and started planning and execution on the pages they said they would do. We're getting there. Then, two groups of much younger students 1st graders maybe? They couldn't spell "me", so maybe kindergartners. And we made hotdog book journals for them to capture their "youth voice" in.

Though my throat is a bit sore from speaking too loudly, and I was constantly worried that I was breathing awful teacher breath at them over their shoulders, I was proud of them when they proudly held up their final products. And I felt proud of myself, too.

Tell me something, do you have to be a good artist yourself to be an art teacher? Maybe that's what I like doing. Or consultant youth work-- so I never have to be anyone's mother. Oh I don't know, do I want to go back to school? Do I want to skip out on this country and never pay my loans? Join the Peace Corps? Sleep for a long long time?

I need to do so much before we leave next week. Part of that is contacting people to let them know I want to see them. I am irresponsible. Dammit.

Thu, 03 May 2007 00:54:33 GMT

I have always been a pretty slow writer, I remember that from the times when I used to write. But I don't recall if I was ever this slow. I can't remember the particulars, the second hand ticks between the letters dropped into clunky obvious sentences.

I just spent an hour trying to write on a story that I started before Christmas last year. I wrote a little over a page. But I'd love to call it two pages. I can't help myself from deleting things before I even type them. And my months of hiatus from the sport of writing haven't helped to rid me of my nasty habit of having no idea of plot.

Robert Stone was right, my character was an asshole, and I think I might be one, too. I'm thinking of stopping claiming the title. I can't be a writer. Maybe an editor, or an encourager of other writers. Possibly one who enjoys the writing of others. But I have to admit, that I have become quit addicted to television. And sleeping. And listening to books on tape. What do I have to write about other than the boredom that I've surrounded myself with?

Sun, 29 Apr 2007 13:56:38 GMT

another poem sent to me for the month of poetry, which is soon to be over. It's a beautiful eulogy to me, of missed opportunity. For the VT boy. For myself, the writer who has stopped and doesn't know whether she has the strength to start again.

In Michael Robins's class minus one
by Bob Hicok

At the desk where the boy sat, he sees the Chicago River.
It raises its hand.
It asks if metaphor should burn.
He says fire is the basis for all forms of the mouth.
He asks, why did you fill the boy with your going?
I didn't know a boy had been added to me, the river says.
Would you have given him back if you knew?
I think so, the river says, I have so many boys in me,
      I'm worn out stroking eyes looking up at the day.
Have you written a poem for us? he asks the river,
      and the river reads its poem,
      and the other students tell the river
      it sounds like a poem the boy would have written,
      that they smell the boy's cigarettes
in the poem, they feel his teeth
biting the page.
And the river asks, did this boy dream of horses?
      because I suddenly dream of horses, I suddenly dream.
They're in a circle and the river says, I've never understood
      round things, why would leaving come back
      to itself?
And a girl makes a kiss with her mouth and leans it
      against the river, and the kiss flows away
      but the river wants it back, the river makes sounds
      to go after the kiss.
And they all make sounds for the river to carry to the boy.
And the river promises to never surrender the boy's shape
      to the ocean.

Tue, 24 Apr 2007 19:52:01 GMT

I can see my glasses shiver with each of my all too hefty heartbeats.

I am tired, and 15/20 pages into the next issue of the youth leadership paper i edit.

I'm dreaming about a bathrobe, a television, some Nyquill rip off, a box of tissues, and a trashcan full of used ones.

My dreams are so much smaller when I'm sick.

I was given this by the Academy of American Poets...

Mon, 23 Apr 2007 14:33:08 GMT

So i can't say I found it for you, but I'll share it anyway.

In the old days a poet once said
by Ko Un

In the old days a poet once said
our nation is destroyed
yet the mountains and rivers survive

Today's poet says
the mountains and rivers are destroyed
yet our nation survives

Tomorrow's poet will say
the mountains and rivers are destroyed
our nation is destroyed and Alas!
you and I are completely destroyed

btw- i'm sick again. Isn't that lovely?

Watch OUT!

Sat, 14 Apr 2007 13:23:59 GMT

I'm-a comin'!

And I'm talkin' soon.

What AM I? The glass man?

Fri, 13 Apr 2007 18:00:03 GMT

I also think I randomly broke my toe. It'sahurtin'

But I'm not sick, so that's a plus.

What if it COULD happen to me?

Thu, 12 Apr 2007 22:27:00 GMT

My ear hurts, the left one only- all of a sudden overnight. It feels like maybe there could be an enormous pulsing zit inside of it.

OR

it could be a spider that crawled into my ear last night- or one of those creepy crawly leggsome creatures.. Maybe it comes alive at night and walks around on my brain and slides down my nasal passages. That would explain why I'm forgetting things and sleeping poorly.

I heard a story about insects crawling into orafices and laying eggs and killing people some time lately- what if it's my time, I could die of overpopulation of the ear canal!

Coming back around...

Wed, 11 Apr 2007 17:36:02 GMT

Hey, I'm going to be in Beloit on Saturday evening for the Renado and Detholz shows. Just, you know, fyi.

See you then?

Tubby Betrayal!

Thu, 22 Mar 2007 22:37:52 GMT

I'm not a big sports fan, but I was so shocked by the sports news this evening that I actually said "Oh My God!" outloud- when there's no one else in the apartment.

Tubby Smith has accepted the position as head coach for the Gophers. After 10 years of winning with Kentucky? Seriously though, keep a good thing when you've got it.

But I guess this means that the Gophers could start winning soon. And if I'm gonna live around here, I suppose that should matter to me, even slightly.

I got online just to tell you this.

Maia and I are considering parenthood.

Thu, 15 Mar 2007 16:20:08 GMT

http://minneapolis.craigslist.org/pet/294172705.html

What do you think? Are we crazy?

As for your end of the deal...

Tue, 13 Mar 2007 17:48:17 GMT

How is the outgoing mail coming along? Should I expect my mailbox to burst with contents anytime soon?

I'm so sick.

Mon, 05 Mar 2007 22:45:21 GMT

I haven't spent much time being sick this year. It almost makes the sick times worse. I barely remember what it's like to be sick. I hate it hate it hate it hate it. I'm half-watching Oprah on ageing well, and Reba's sitcom. I keep sneezing and I can barely hear out of both ears. I made chicken noodle stew last night (a success!) and I'm eating that for every meal, and I'm taking all these drugs I got at the store over the counter... but good lord, this is hard and exhausting. I'm going back to bed now.

White Out

Thu, 01 Mar 2007 21:06:49 GMT

The gods finally noticed
their clerical error.
See, near the eastern buckle
of Minnesota, not quite WI.
Where those cities
edged just a little too close
together. It's bleeding,
mingling in droopy lakes.

University's cracked,
they spot. And the numbering's
off here, and here. Up can't be
south of Down. But there it is,
in ink on every map.

What embarrassing cities-
mistaken, broken, boggled.
Thank the gods. Caught
in time. White it out!
Shrouded into spring
when things are regrown.

Will you send me something in return?

Tue, 27 Feb 2007 16:55:47 GMT

I made a zine- it's called Friend Ships- and it's kinda fucked up because i didn't consider the margins fully before photocopying. (dumb me) It's probably way cheesy, and super pointless but I guess that's what I'm about.

But it's something I made and I would like to send it out to people.

Give me your address if you want one. AND: promise me you'll send me something you made in return- a letter will do just fine.

Love,
Sarah

just so you know-

Wed, 14 Feb 2007 21:59:20 GMT

I love ya'll
...in honor of a day that I've liked alright before- I hope yours is filled with kisses...

Mon, 12 Feb 2007 03:08:04 GMT

If it weren't for music, I'd be lost right now. I'd have nothing to say, nothing to do.

- I listened to a Beatles mix tape on the way out to visit my uncle's family the other night. I heard each song in a different way than I even had. As I sang along to every word I realized that every word was written for me. It is amazing to me all over again that you can say sad things in ways that sound happy and happy things in ways that sound bone-crushingly sad.

- I want to purchase some headphones with cushy pads and a long cord so I can listen to music while I am working. Then maybe I can transport myself somewhere else. Maybe somewhere warmer, with some light beats with steel pan, but most probably I will hole up into the cusioned pads and be in some place where it is sad and cool- somewhere that it's okay to be sad and alone.

- I love music and bands and tours and shows. This week was lovely in music, with Viceburgh at the Turf Club on thursday and some new bands last night. In the moments of life that are filled with music I feel like I am truly living.

- I can't make music on my guitar right now. Not only have I bit my nails to a painful shortness, I feel like everything sounds the same when I play it. I really want to learn more, and I don't think I can teach myself. I'm sure half the hurdle is trying, right? Yeah, right. If that were true I'd have progressed, but really everything I know now I learned my sophomore year of highschool from my then Metallica-Head boyfriend. I don't know anything new about guitar since then. Except maybe a tiny bit of bluegrass.

Would you like to spend a day with a dead mouse?

Tue, 06 Feb 2007 22:52:27 GMT

I didn't want to either. But we couldn't put our finger on the terrible smell in my office until about 3:00 in the afternoon. Gross. I can't stand small animals, they make me nervous. I can't stand mice in particular. I have a secret fear that they could nibble me to death. I don't like dead animals. I shiver to even see roadkill, much less re-run it over. A dead mouse is pretty much at the top of my can't stand list.

The newspaper is at the printer- we should have it back by next tuesday. That means I get to ride around in my car for 48 cents a mile and deliver papers to all the schools. Hoorah. I actually AM looking forward to this. I like the idea of NOT being in an office. Yesterday I took pictures of kids making valentines. I got one, from a little boy with attention problems and a violent streak. It says...

    to Sara
you         are
       Nic
   sara

...and is centered on a finely cut piece of pink paper in the shape of what he surely meant to be a heart. But really looks like large breasts. I wish i worked with kids more. Atleast they are amusing in ways that don't make you stew in anger. Not necessarily. And it would mean more crafts. I guess I would settle for anything right now. Just for a change of pace.

Today the world is beautiful. It wears the winter like a wedding gown.

Wed, 31 Jan 2007 21:13:02 GMT

Highlight of my day-
(Adam is actually my sister, Jess on she and her husband's joint email account--- that's a whole other bag of worms )

Adam: so, guess who used the potty TWICE today...

Adam: okay, i'll give you a hint...it wasn't me

me: OH MAN! no way!

Adam: oh yeah.

me: on the little potty?

does he have trainers now?

Adam: we took pictures and everything so that daddy can see it when he gets home

me: with stretchy sides?

Adam: we went to walmart this afternoon and got some pull ups

those things are EXPENSIVE!!!

me: did he insist on it? with his regular diapers? Like, undo them himself?

or has he started telling you when he needs to go to the bathroom

so you can help

Adam: well, i asked him, just on a whim, when i was getting him dressed

he's not THAT motivated, but i have a feeling he will be

the pull ups are "Cars"

me: number one or two?

oh man- that would motivate me for sure!

Adam: just number one...two is a whole nuther battle

me: no kidding

Adam: yeah, me too

me: sometimes its hard for grownups to do number 2

Adam: nothin like wearing lightning mcqueen on your groin!

me: fo piddle

(get it?)

Adam: is that like fashizzle my nizzle?

me: yeah

Adam: gotcha

me: im so excited

thats so strange that im so excited

what a funny thing to be excited about

Adam: well, you should have seen isaac and me after he did it...

me: yeah?

Adam: the first time he didn't make any noise, so i assumed that nothing had happened

me: i bet james thought you two were crazy

Adam: and then he stood up and like woa!

me: YEAH!

Adam: high fives all over the place man

Kids make you talk about the darndest things.

Copier Chat.

Tue, 30 Jan 2007 17:09:05 GMT

It turns out that the only reason The Office is so good is because it is filmed so nicely. Working in the office is similar in content, but not in entertainment value. I've got some of the same characters, but not the same romance, not the same lighting, not the same motivation.