obfuscated girl

face stuck to a vinyl settee

1. A Poem:
there is free internets at George Webb's now
I am eating some sort of thing with eggs and salsa and writing about it, also there is an English muffin
God bless technology
and English muffins

2. Last night I was at a party until three in the morning and saw my first party throwdown fight thing. Some tortured MIAD kid showed up, drank about a half a bottle of Scotch in under ten minutes, made fun of ME because I believed him when he told me that he did not know a soul in the world named Sarah, and then told the host "fuck you" and once he was forced physically out of the house started clinging to the doorway and refusing to leave. It was more drama than I have ever seen concentrated in one place at one time, and I did not even mention the part where dude tried to steal a bottle of vodka or the part where his roommate started screaming "GET OUT OF MY LIFE" at this guy . Also, discussion topic that was raised: "Is Britney Spears this generation's Courtney Love?" Because we are intellectual like that.
3. Because of the getting home at three in the morning thing and the waking up at eight in the morning thing, I plan to spend my entire day eating large amounts of food and watching the first season of The Gilmore Girls.
4. I just spat out part of my egg and salsa thing:
"Two days later I'm far enough through the stack to listen to the Ganglion album. Holy fucking shit! These guys are from Minneapolis and they sound like they are pissed off about it. Singer is up on the early-90s screaming-at-mom-because-she-fucked-up-the-French-toast emo style. No not that kind of emo you worthless piece of shit. The other kind. Remember Gravity Records? No I didn't think you did. I'll be right back I gotta go put my head in the oven."

this courageous attempt to communicate across cultures has many people asking: "is mitt romney retarded?"

This might be the best Colbert Report ever to air, or possibly even the best thing to be on television, in the history of all time, ever.

10 things i hate about news.

I hate the way you talk to me, and the way you cut your hair.
I hate the way you drive my car.
I hate it when you stare.
I hate your big dumb combat boots, and the way you read my mind.
I hate you so much it makes me sick; it even makes me rhyme.
I hate the way you're always right.
I hate it when you lie.
I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry.
I hate it when you're not around, and the fact that you didn't call.
But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you.
Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.

I am not really one to write about how sad untimely celebrity deaths are or anything, and I am not even one to write about how writing about untimely celebrity deaths is probably bandwagon jumping and just because you write about it critically doesn't mean that you aren't guilty of what everyone goddamn else is guilty of, and I don't even know if discussing something should make me feel "guilty." because, goddammit I liked Heath Ledger and it is sad that he died, but mostly I was reminded of the fact that I really, really, really love this movie, and furthermore one of two things that will make me eternally associate Julia Stiles with Ice Cube.
NB: The poem above totally makes me cry. IT HAS EVERYTHING TO DO WITH CONTEXT, SHUT UP

career! korea! career! korea!

So I got a haircut:

What that picture fails to reflect is the fact that I took a shower the next day and it got curly, since when is my hair curly, damn you, genetics. There is another angle here. I was also reminded how nice it is sometimes to go somewhere besides Supercuts.
Beyond that, I am filling out questions about how I think about things for my therapy homework--we are Thinking Cognitively Behaviorally-- and trying to find ways to spend my time before I actually start work that do not involve the internet. Whether that is finding a book club or writing group some shit or volunteering somewhere remains to be seen, but I should make up my mind soon otherwise it will be a month from now and I will be all "I AM WASTING MY LIFE" and even I am sick of me whining.
Also I just got an email informing me that my credentials are appropriate for a Starbucks barista position.
Good times./

OH, REALLY

Because of the various places that my resume is online and because of the disquieting degree to which gmail knows me, I have gotten several job "offers" in my email some of which may be real job offers but I have my doubts. Recently I got the following email:

from Career Source Team Careers Barnes and Nobles bookseller
reply-to Career Source Team Careers Barnes and Nobles bookseller ,
to me,
date 18 Jan 2008 10:49:54 0500
subject A bookseller job with Barnes and Nobles is available
"Dear Sarah,

For more information about this position or if you would like to submit an online application, please click on the link. You may also copy and paste the link into a separate browser window, if you desire.

If you are a bookseller or have been a bookseller, you can point out the two things that are immediately wrong with that paragraph with your eyes closed, but I am here to point them out for you:
1. Booksellers do not make no $19,000 annually are you fucking high.
2. Also, it is not actually called "Barnes & Nobles."

Probably if I had gotten this email three weeks ago I would not think it was so funny.

I am writing this from a coffeehouse and there are some dudes here who are doing a table read of a screenplay. In Milwaukee. Here is some sample dialogue from said screenplay.
1. "You ain't no cop or nothing so you might as well not even play hero."
2. "Well it looks like our worlds are just about to collide right about now."
3. "The fuck are you doing here, stupid asshole?"
Here is some directorial advice from the dude who is auditioning these other dudes, as to What The Character Is Feeling. "MY MOMS GOT KILLED, MAN, AND IT IS THE NUMBER ONE THING IN MY MIND."

And because it has been a while since I have posted a song and furthermore in honor of the Week Of 90s Boxed Set, here is a song, which I think is probably my favorite song of the 90s, all apologies to Nirvana*.
Primitive Radio Gods-Standing Outside A Broken Phonebooth With Money In My Hand
doo doo do doo doo do doo
doo doo do doo doo do doo
doo doo do doo doo do doo
doo doo do doo doo do doo

*...HA!

you guys know what "huckabee" rhymes with, right

Or, Why I Am Just A Tiny Bit Nervous About 2008:

"[Some of my opponents] do not want to change the Constitution, but I believe it's a lot easier to change the constitution than it would be to change the word of the living God, and that's what we need to do is to amend the Constitution so it's in God's standards rather than try to change God's standards,"--Mike Huckabee, referring to the need for a constitutional human life amendment and an amendment defining marriage as between a man and a woman.
source

oh hell no

Between the fact that I got this in at the library and the fact that everyone I know seems to have watched that VH1 90s countdown thing, I have been immersing myself in a lot of my high school musical consumption this week. Because of thi discussion, a friend alerted me to an interpretation/close reading of "The Freshmen," (a song that my friends and I feel was egregiously missing from the countdown AND which is not on the boxed set either, god dammit) according to the dude from the Verve Pipe himself:

WHEN I WAS YOUNG I KNEW EVERYTHING.

We all think we know everything at a young age. I thought I did. I realise I didn't know sh*t until I was 36.

AND SHE, A PUNK, WHO RARELY TOOK ADVICE.

How many people do we know like that?

NOW I'M GUILT STRICKEN, SOBBING, WITH MY HEAD ON THE FLOOR.

Something happened, that caused this reaction, but I wouldn't want to give that away this early in the song, so let's throw in some ambiguity.

STOP A BABY'S BREATH, AND A SHOE FULL OF RICE, NO.

First of all, forget the NO. Stop a baby's breath is just that. Abort the baby. A shoe full of rice is a result of a wedding. So, stop a baby's breath AND then you stop a wedding. She's pregnant, get her to abort, and then there's no wedding. And you know what?

I CAN'T BE HELD RESPONSIBLE, CAUSE SHE WAS TOUCHING HER FACE.

When I wrote this song, the Divinyls had a song out called "I Touch Myself". She was touching her face in the video. Very sexy. So, I can't be held responsible because she was trying to be sexy, trying to seduce me, etc.

I WON'T BE HELD RESPONSIBLE, SHE FELL IN LOVE IN THE FIRST PLACE.

I didn't tell her to fall in love.

FOR THE LIFE OF ME, I CANNOT REMEMBER WHAT MADE US THINK THAT WE WERE WISE, AND WE'D NEVER COMPROMISE.

What was I thinking back then. Who am I to put a girl though that? Why was I unable to compromise? Guilty feelings.

FOR THE LIFE OF ME, I CANNOT BELIEVE WE'D EVER DIE FOR THESE SINS, WE WERE MERELY FRESHMEN.

We were just kids. Let it go. We all make mistakes, etc.

MY BEST FRIEND TOOK A WEEK'S VACATION TO FORGET HER.

He needed to get away because of what happened.

HIS GIRL TOOK A WEEK'S WORTH OF VALIUM AND SLEPT.

Now, this is why this song is not that strong literally. It's confusing. HIS girl is MY girl. The same girl that had the abortion has now killed herself.

NOW HE'S GUILT-STRICKEN SOBBING WITH HIS HEAD ON THE FLOOR, THINKS ABOUT HER NOW AND HOW HE NEVER REALLY WEPT HE SAYS.

He has the same guilty feelings that I do about the abortion and death.

WE TRIED TO WASH OUR HANDS OF ALL OF THIS, WE NEVER TALK OF OUR LACKING RELATIONSHIPS.

We rarely spoke after the incident. We just tried to forget it. We never spoke of her or the fact that we can't have a decent relationship with anyone since then.

WE FELL THROUGH THE ICE WHEN WE TRIED NOT TO SLIP.

No matter how careful you might be, there are other perils out there.

There you go. I realise that there are always a few skeptics in the group, so I'll say this: The girl is real, the abortion is real. The death is not.
It's poetic license - to make the story more interesting.

Basically, this is why I think roughly 40% of musicians should not ever actually talk about their work.

why are you taking his advice? he's old and alone

My excuse* for continuing to watch Gossip Girl is right here.

" Blair's headbands get bigger and bigger. It's like she's wearing the Goddamn Prada turban. Plus 2. Maybe it is holding in all of her feelings."
hee hee hee hee hee hee hee

*While my ultimate goal is to be so besotted with a social life and activities and reading and volunteering and shit that I will no longer have time for television, this will do for now.

open letter to 2008

Dear 2008,

I know that we did not start out on the best of terms, but I think I like you. As of today, after six (6) (seriously) months of crying and overdramatics and wearing uncomfortable clothing and sensible shoes and rejection letters and emails and ink-stained hands and typing tests and maybe drinking a bit and envisioning welfare housing and checks and late utility bill payments and creative financing I have a job.

I. HAVE. A. JOB.
A REAL ONE. NO PORTION OF MY CHECK WILL GO TO A TEMP AGENCY FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE 2003.
YOU MOTHERFUCKER.

Granted this job will not start until February 18 and it will start with two weeks of $8 an hour paid training and then going to full time, but if anything it also gives me time to maybe hear back from the 24,000 other interviews I went on, and I can still keep looking, there is nothing that says I can't. IT HAS A 401K. AND BENEFITS. AND I COULD HAVE A DOCTOR. AND OH MY GOD I DO NOT EVEN KNOW HOW TO PROCESS THIS.

sincerely.
THE EMPLOYED.

say please please please don't go away, say you're giving me the blues

I have been quiet for a while because of 1) various and sundry tiny mental breakdowns and 2) I am in the middle of week two of 8600 interviews, which has involved a lot of time wearing blazers and being on buses and then afterwards just wanting to go home and, like, watch The Biggest Loser because who does not love a good transformation story and overcoming of obstacles and also Brita water filter product placement. Also I put "Faith" by George Michael on the mp3 player and have listened to it maybe fourteen times in a row today and it has nothing to do with that commercial for the TV show where the dude keeps seeing George Michael for some reason. Nor am I particularly interested in what that show is like. It looks like some combination of Ally McBeal and Six Feet Under or perhaps Ally McBeal and That Show Where The Guy Ran Around All Time Traveling And Shit. Either way, it smacks of everyone-else-is-on-strike desperation. And the point I am trying to make here, badly and rambling-ily, is that it is nearly impossible to be sad when one is listening to George Michael and those writer dudes are on to something.

Click!

George Michael, "Faith"
It is hard for me to be able to accept the fact that there are people who want to help me when I am Going Through Things without feeling like I'm a bad person or that I am unworthy of anyone helping me. I think maybe if we are looking at the lessons to be learned from the fact that I have been more or less unemployed for six (SIX) months, it's that I need to stop feeling that way, and family and friends are family and friends and sometimes they help their friends or their family, and while I am really good at blaming everything on myself, there are some things about this that aren't actually my fault. Maybe this is what I am meant to learn.
Or I could be learning that life is hard and things are more random and cruel than I think they are, but that feels lonelier to me.
Also: It feels kind of hypocritical for me to be searching for lessons or whatever if I still don't know if I believe in God or not. And at the very least I am picking and choosing lessons, because if I were to by extension believe in the thing that says what you do in the new year you will be doing for all of the following year, because if THAT were true I am going to not only be unemployed forever but also waking up covered in my own vomit, not because I drink that much but because I do not believe in separating the consumption of allergy medication from the consumption of alcohol.
Also too: Do you know what is going to happen this year? This thing will be six years old sometime in October. That is NUTS.