obfuscated girl

a/s/l

Dear Internet Dating:

I am done with you. This is it, that is all, I am done. I am tired of fucking getting my hopes up about someone (and not even someone, getting my hopes up about selected information that gets displayed on a computer screen, it is like getting my hopes up about the Princess from Super Mario Brothers or something) only to be routinely disappointed and hear nothing from anyone who I actually want to hear from and wonder if I look fat in my pictures/misspelled a word/like the wrong books/ am overbearing/in general what is wrong with me. I am already really REALLY well-versed in picking out what is wrong with me on my own, thank you, and I don't need you to remind me of my shortcomings anymore. I am sick of concentrating on the shortcomings and it may as well start with you. We are over. No, I don't know how to meet people in other venues or am at the least very out of practice, but it has to be better than this. I always thought that internet dating was kind of a refuge for the slightly socially awkward, but APPARENTLY I AM TOO SOCIALLY AWKWARD FOR THE INTERNET. THIS DOES NOT FEEL VERY EXCELLENT, INTERNET DATING. I am going to go crawl under something and die, but not before I find five cats and name them after the members of the Strokes and bring them with me. I hope you are happy now.

Sincerely and fuck you,

sarah

throwing yourself against a wall

I do not know if it was the burrito that I had for dinner last night but I had the scariest and most vivid nightmare that I have had in a very long time:
I dreamed last night that my father had cancer and very little time left to live and my stepmom refused to take him to the doctor because of the Lord and his magical healing ways. I think I was crying in my sleep. Also Emily was raising rabbits and took them outside for food only they froze to death and separated their own heads from their necks to try and drink water from frozen puddles and ponds and she and my dad went outside to collect them and carried them inside, one by one, decapitated part by decapitated part. And they all looked exactly like the rabbit Emily had when she was little, Bun Bun. I have no idea what this means. Someone suggested that I was distrustful of my stepmother's religion and/or intentions, but she is a Lutheran, not a Christian Scientist. And BUNNIES? DEAD BUNNIES? WHY

I have started a new job and it is still in the county system and still $8.50 an hour, but it is a receptionist job and entirely less stressful. My eye has not twitched. Once. Also I do not know whether or not the fact that I applied for unemployment led the temp agency to place me so quickly, but if it did I will be applying for unemployment ALL THE TIME NOW. I will apply for unemployment in a box. I will apply for unemployment with a fox. I will apply for unemployment in the dark.
In the all-important Things I Am Consuming Besides Burritos Right Now category:
typical
it is summer, okay, I do not have to read War and Peace
another toothpick
and in a she-is-29-in-a-month,-folks shocker:
"Mama, we all go to hell/Mama, we all go to hell/It’s really quite pleasant except for the smell/Mama, we all go to hell".

Pretty much because of the dying-alone thing I am okay with all of these.

might catch some perch

A couple nights ago I got drunk and wrote about the Replacements and Nebraska and submitted it to my editors fully expecting them to go "haha are you insane also why does this sentence say 'ampersand ampersand tapdance criminology woop woop I Will Dare swishy.'"
But they published it. And I was encouraged to write while drinking more often.

Go figure.

three months and i'm still breathing

Fuck, I love Kelly Clarkson.
And fuck you, I don't love her because there was some proclamation from Pitchfork or whatever that said it was acceptable to love her, or because Mike Watt plays bass or something on the new album. Frankly I am not even sure what band Mike Watt is in. I love her because she has a real pretty voice and "Miss Independent" was the fucking angsty jam and okay I don't like "Breakaway" so much, but girl has drama, and a voice, fuck, her voice. I only started reading about the controversy surrounding her new album, My December, which will be out in July, about three minutes ago so I have no idea if it was actually held hostage by her label or whatever, but you know what? I will probably buy it. And I will probably play it. A lot. And I don't care who rolls their eyes at me. And if you click that link up there you can preorder it. In the meantime:
Kelly Clarkson, "Sober"
I just read something that said this album will probably be her Jagged Little Pill. Fuck that too.

i'm going to get off scot-fucking-free and we all did

I am back.
I managed to lose my job and my dignity in the course of one week. I did, however, gain a newfound appreciation for my family, not meeting bears and also roads where there are streetlights and which are not on top of mountains that you could fall off of at any second and die a fiery death and then be eaten by bears. And mountain lions. They would fight over your carcass. And then laugh.
There are some pictures and shit over here.

So far, the ability to undock my laptop has amounted to perfecting colossally wasting my time. Yesterday I sat in one place and drank endless cups of coffee for an OBSCENE amount of time and did nothing of value except download My Chemical Romance songs.* It was great.
This time next week I will be in a Jeep on the way to Colorado to watch my baby sister get married. Or on the side of the read thumbing my way back to Wisconsin depending on whether I decide that the my-sister-is-a-hippie joke has any juice left. It is kind of unbelievable, this constant sudden realizing that neither of you are eleven anymore and you don't share a room or fight over the Atari or demand matching sweatsuits for Christmas or go through unfortunate sartorial phases in general that involve overalls and also rainbow suspenders or fight over whose copy of August and Everything After on tape it actually is, and while you always suspected that other people grow up your siblings were never going to, and marriage is such a huge thing, and sometimes it just leaves you dumbstruck that this is really happening, that there's no way to turn back the clock, and then you start thinking about the fact that you yourself are not getting any younger, and not in the marrying sense or the oh-Jesus my uterus is drying up sense, but when we were sharing a room I thought 28 was so old. There are so many subject-verb tense things that do not agree there but I am too tired to figure out what they are. There's also the fact that my sister has found the best person she could possibly get married to, which is excellent because, like, probably they will not get divorced. I'm not sure if I would want to go back and be a kid again, and I am not really sure where I am going with this, but I could not be more proud of my sister. And I wish I could be more eloquent about it, and I wish this entry did not sound like I got 5 hours of sleep and have been neglecting my laundry for two weeks--oh wait I did--but what are you gonna do. I could try poetry writing, I suppose. Or therapy.
In other news, everyone fucking see The Heart Of The Game right now.
It will make you cry. And THERE'S NO CRYING IN BASKETBALL. UNLESS IT IS THE NCAA FINALS. OR A HIGH SCHOOL BASKETBALL TOURNAMENT. OR IF YOU GET TECHNICAL FOULED. OR IF SHAQ STEPPED ON YOU BECAUSE HE IS HUGE AND I IMAGINE THAT WOULD HURT. Okay, crying is totally acceptable in basketball.

In the morning in the winter shade
On the first of March, on the holiday
I thought I saw you breathing

All the glory that the Lord has made
And the complications when I see His face
In the morning in the window

All the glory when He took our place
But He took my shoulders and He shook my face
And He takes and He takes and He takes

i can go home now

I have literally been trying to fix my website for TWO HOURS. I am writing this from a coffeehouse where I am full of coffee and surrounded by guys in trucker caps and girls in leggings and reggae music because I finally learned how to undock the laptop because the dudes who unknowingly gave me home internet finally moved out.

I have nothing else to say, really, except I rule.
And I can go eat now.