Friday, December 28, 2007

How Bout a Little Honesty?

I'm sick of blogging.

There are a lot of reasons behind this, but the main idea is that it seems to perpetuate the negativity, and there's enough negativity without me helping it along.

So until further notice, no more blogging.

The end.

Friday, December 14, 2007

My Girl, and Other News

1. Tradition - 13th annual Christmas lighting excursion. Mom, Zion, me and a Christmas tree. It rocked. Plus, there were gingerbread lattes. Any questions?

2. In a creative mood this week. Finished some long-overdue projects, working on January's kit, and hopefully I'll get to post some stuff tomorrow. I love when those juices flow.

3. Tori. rocks. my. world. Seriously. It takes balls to kick someone out of a CONCERT for being rude. I love her.

4. Goal for the week: hit up Anastasia's in Raytown. It's this totally, totally cool used bookstore I used to visit all the time. There's literally not even enough standing room - it has to be a horrible fire hazard. I walk inside and immediately start sneezing from all the dust. There are books stacked 6 and 7 feet high from the floor - just random piles. Shelves and shelves and more shelves. Old, old books - my dad got me a complete set of Charles Dickens books that were published in 1896 from there - and brand-spankin' new books. I love that place. I miss the books. As Giles would say, "Books smell musty and rich." A seriously awesome smell, even if it does make me sneeze.


Monday, December 10, 2007

Black of the Blackest Ocean

I've posted this song many, many times before on my blog, sometimes with an explanation and sometimes without, but the fact is that this song has been there for me when no one else was. This song and I have been through so much together, and she knows me.

She knows exactly how I feel most of the time - my greatest fears, hopes...

"All the world just stopped now.. so you say you don't wanna stay together, anymore.. let me take a deep breath, babe.. if you need me, me and Neil'll be hangin' out with the Dream King."

For someone with the abandonment issues that I have - the constant feeling that the people you love will be leaving you forever any second now - this is the most familiar moment. That moment where you hear the words that someone is leaving you, for whatever reason, and your breath catches, and you think, "That's ok.. I'm just going to go to bed, now." And then you sleep and sleep and sleep, hoping that when you finally wake up, it will all be fixed and everyone will have realized what a huge, cosmic joke the whole thing was, and sometimes just hoping that you don't wake up at all...

"I think there are just pieces of me you've never seen.. maybe there are just pieces of me you've never seen.."

Such powerful words.. trying to reassure yourself that you are worthy of being loved, and that the people who have shunned you just can't seem to realize the things about you that would make them love you, but if they could just somehow see that part of you, they would get you, they would understand that you're capable of being loved..

And then realizing just how much power these people have over you - the power you give them - and the waiting game - putting your entire world on hold - while you try to figure out which way to go..

"All the world is dangling.. you don't know the power that you have with a tear in your hand."

Then comes the conviction that you're better off without them.. the fact that if they couldn't bring themselves to love you for who you are, for the things that you love, then they were never going to love you anyway, and you've probably spent the last however long it's been trying to convince them to love you just hurting yourself in the end.

"Cutting my hands up everytime I touch you.."

And then, finally, the realization that you just have to let it go..

"Maybe it's time to wave goodbye now.. time to wave goodbye now.."

The euphoria that follows when you realize that you're a better person for having gone through this, but also the terror of realizing that you'll have to go through it again, and trying your damnedest to learn from the experience..

"Caught a ride with the moon.. I know I know you well.. well, better than I used to.. haze all clouded up my mind, in the daze of why it could've never been.."

The insistence that next time will be different, because next time, you're just not letting anyone in. You're really not better off for having known this person, so what was the point? What doesn't kill you makes you stronger? Because you know for sure that the next one will kill you. Why not just go ahead and nip it in the bud this time?

Do you ever feel that if someone listens to a song - just one song - then they'll know everything they ever needed to know about you? Because honestly, that's how I feel about this song. She does this to me anyway with the majority of her songs. I can literally trace a major life changing event to every single song the woman has ever written, but this song has come up more in my life than any other, and sometimes I think that if I wanted someone to get me - to really get what it's like to be Sara - all they ever have to do is listen to this song.

Sunday, December 09, 2007

Trusting my Soul to the Ice Cream Assassin

My ex-mother-in-law used to tell me that I subconsciously felt that I wasn't worthy of happiness, so when I came to a point where I was happy, I purposefully sabotaged it because I was more comfortable being miserable.

Thursday, December 06, 2007

A Dani Moment.

Because you know how sometimes you find a friend that just (mostly) "gets" you?

Sara: Got anything to share?

Dani: I'm Pinky, you're the Brain.

Sara: Does that mean we get to take over the world?

Dani: Just for tonight. Like we do every night.

Tuesday, December 04, 2007

The End

Life is for Learning

I heard a song on my way home from somewhere the other night (don't even ask me where the hell I was, because even I don't know anymore..).

My dad is the biggest L.S. fan you'll ever meet in your life, so this song took me back a little bit. You know how a song catches you off guard? Whether it's a song you remember from a good relationship, or a bad break-up, or it reminded you of someone who isn't with you anymore - all of a sudden, you can smell things that you haven't thought of in years, remembering hurt or longing, or just happiness.

I have this love/hate relationship with my dad right now - I haven't spoken to him in over a year. I just don't have anything good to say to him right now, so I'm not saying anything. He's one of those stubborn sons-of-bitches who will NEVER change, no matter how many people tell him he needs to.

Sound like anyone you know?

We've clashed over random things - EVERYTHING - for as long as I can remember.. the only thing we ever agreed on, or got along about, was music.

He taught me about Janis Joplin, and he played "Me & Bobby McGee" on his guitar while I sang. He told me about the time Johnny Cash had dinner at house. He made me listen - really listen - to the guitar chords that Jimi Hendrix invented ("Sara, did you know that people still - to this day - can't duplicate the chords he played?").

Everytime I sat down in the passenger seat of his 1971 Grenada (yes, it had an 8-track player in it), he turned the radio on and started his favorite game: "Do you know who sings this song? What's the name of the song?"

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He delighted in my correct answers each time ("Led Zeppelin, Immigrant Song!" or "Creedence Clearwater Revival, Born on the Bayou!"), and told me over and over about the day the plane went down that left Lynyrd Skynrd three members short of their original band.

He begged me to make sure that three songs were played at his funeral: "Turn the Page," by Bob Seger, "Freebird," by Lynyrd Skynyrd, and "Stairway to Heaven," by Led Zeppelin.

Can I just tell you how many times I've seen that man play air guitar?

He used to take me fishing when I was little, and when I was seven he informed me that I was no longer allowed to fish unless I baited my own hook. Oh, that poor little worm.. I was heartbroken.

He taught me to fire a gun. He taught me to build a campfire. He taught me to drive a stick shift. He did all of this while we listened to "Purple Haze" or "Truckin'" or "Angie."

Sometimes I think it's a shame that Zion won't get to know him. I wonder who will teach him these things - who's going to tell him that Janis Joplin beats the hell out of Gwen Stefani? Who will explain to him that everything he needs to know about life can be learned from the song "Woodstock," by Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young?

Guess that's going to be my job, now.