Inquiring minds want to know

aka Sarah puts off doing the 2958295829358235 things she has to do today by writing another lame survey.

1. I had a dream last night that I killed a vulture with plans to eat it.  Is this a bad omen?  Or does it have something to do with the fact that I also dreamed about the Oscars last night?  Are vultures edible?

2. Would you pay to go see a movie starring Mark Hamill?

3. Friday the 13th: A New Beginning: unwatchable dreck, or underrated black comedy?

4. Are you going to watch the Oscars tonight?

5. Who would you rather be a houseguest of: Alfred Molina in Boogie Nights or Paula Abdul right now?

6. Does Christian Slater deserve to have a career right now?

7. Could knowing Middle English conceivably be a skill that would save your ass in an action movie-type context?

8. Alan Rickman: sexy, scary, or sexy-scary?  (Or just too British to be any of the above?)

9. Hollywood is remaking Gone with the Wind, and you are in charge of casting.  (Go you!)  Who do you choose?

10. I'm listening to 105.9 right now, Portland's home for hair metal, and Dee Snider is hosting the Sunday morning metal show.  I assume this is a nationally syndicated thing, but even so: cool or kind of depressing?  Also, is Dee Snider datable?  What role does his hair play in this equation?

11. Is Lita Ford the rockingest chick ever, or what?

O Angeline

I gotta meet this freakin' bird!

Is it possible that this is only the fifth post I've made here in over a month?  There was a time not so long ago when I could make more posts than that in a single day.  Important things were always happening, realizations were being made, questions had to be asked--questions like, who's cooler, Kurt Russell or Patrick Swayze? or, Would you rather do Alec Baldwin now or Mark Hamill thirty years ago? or Am I the only person who really loves semicolons?  (The answers, by the way, are tie, tie, and obviously.)  And now...I don't know.  It's not like I'm less excitable, or have less going on, or have even become less annoying.  I just channel my annoyingness into other outlets, and use fewer exclamation points.

Anyway, the whole MFA race has come and mostly gone: there was rejection, and an afternoon when I got really depressed and drunk and made my mom watch The House Bunny with me, and during the Playboy mansion scenes said "LOOK, mom, this is what grad school is like FOR ME," to which she diplomatically replied that she didn't think most grad students actually walked around in bustiers and bunny ears.  (Yes, I know.  My poor mother.)  And then there was a period of recovery that took place immediately after the drunk House Bunny watching, since I have trouble staying depressed about anything for more than four hours or so--not because I'm a paragon of mental health, but because I get bored really really really really easily.  And during my House Bunny hangover I realized that I loved Portland, loved PSU, loved my friends--that, God, I even loved the hipsters.  And that I'm going to stay here, get a cheapo apartment, put on plays, go to the MFA program at PSU, bake rainbow cupcakes for my friends' birthdays, and continue to look to The House Bunny for emotional guidance at all times.

It really is a deep movie, you guys.

(no subject)

The spider

Then there was the time in 
New Orleans 
I was living with a fat woman,
Marie, in the French Quarter 
and I got very sick. 
while she was at work 
I got down on my knees 
in the kitchen 
that afternoon and 
prayed. I was not a 
religious man 
but it was a very dark afternoon 
and I prayed: 
“Dear God: if you let me live, 
I promise You I’ll never take 
another drink.” 
I kneeled there and it was just like 
a movie— 
as I finished praying 
the clouds parted and the sun came 
through the curtains 
and fell upon me. 
then I got up and took a crap. 
there was a big spider in Marie’s bathroom 
but I crapped anyhow. 
an hour later I began feeling much 
better. I took a walk around the Quarter 
and smiled at people. 
I stopped at the grocery and got a couple of 
6 packs for Marie. 
I began feeling so good than an hour later 
I sat in the kitchen and opened 
one of the beers. 
I drank that and then another one 
and then I went in and 
killed the spider.
when Marie got home from work 
I gave her a big kiss, 
then sat in the kitchen and talked 
as she cooked dinner. 
she asked me what had happened that day 
and I told her I had killed the 
spider. she didn’t get 
angry. she was a good 

Charles Bukowski

kitty kitty kitty


Amelia has been gone for a month now, and in that time my quality of life has decreased a perceptible amount.


1. She regularly takes ten mile walks for fun.
2. When she was on a semester abroad in Senegal, she bought a wooden statue of a man and named it El Hadj Fall Awesome, and talked to it when she had malaria (and was delirious).

3. She gives second-hand smoke TO FLOWERS.

4. She is unperturbed by goat viscera.

5. She also looks excellent in a bubu.

6. Behind that stuffed blue bunny, THERE IS ONLY ANOTHER FIST.

silver threads and golden needles

My friend Claire came over to have a study-party with me today, and after hour nine or so of reading we decided to start a gospel/blues/country/folk band called The Sweetwater All-Girl Gospel Choir, along with my friend Emily, who has not yet actually called us back about this but who basically has to do it because we already gave her a nickname.  Actually, we all have nicknames:

Claire "Sweetpea" Simons (Guitar)
Sarah "Clover Honey" Marshall (Autoharp, Jews Harp, Harmonica, Tambourine)
Emily "Ramblin' Rose" Gray (Whatever she wants to play)

The conversation kind of devolved after that.  Mainly we lay on my bed for an hour, singing "This Little Light of Mine" and "It Don't Worry Me" and clapping whitely, and I tried to play my autoharp, although, since it's out of tune and kind of rusty, it ended up sounding like the soudtrack to Black Christmas.  And eventually, when I went to bed to say goodnight to my mom:

ME: Claire and I are starting a band!
MY MOTHER: Are you starting it right now?

I think my dad bought me a harmonica a while ago and then surreptitiously stole it back.  Will the All-Girl Gospel Choir prevail in the face of adversity?  (Yes.)

(no subject)

Since all I've done in the last MONTH or so is post clips from movies I like, proof that Joel Hodgson is awesome, and arguable proof that Nicolas Cage does not suck quite as much as everyone says he does, I feel like I owe yon minions something about my actual life and what's happening in it (although we all know that clips are kind of what you've come to expect of me.  Am I the human equivalent of a VH1 special?  Well, let's not go into that).

1. I'm all done with Creative Writing MFA applications, and will find out whether I got into Brown, Cornell, Iowa, Michigan, Oregon, Pittsburgh, Portland State, Texas-Austin, Virginia, Wisconsin-Madison, or none of the above.  I'll start hearing back from places in about a month, which is a simultaneously daunting and extremely exciting prospect.  I'm basically trying not to think about it too much.  But I do plan to throw the party to end all parties once I've heard back from everywhere and decided where I'm going, a party whose nature can be understood if the reader comprehends these two facts of my life:

A. My friend Emily lives next to a Hostess outlet.
B. I own a deep fat fryer.

How could anything be better?  I ask you.  And, of course, if any of you live in the Portland area and would like to shorten their life span by about five years, come and be creative (and fat).

2. My classes are almost uniformly brilliant this term, partly because I'm not taking twenty credits and therefore don't constantly feel like my brain is trickling out through my ears and down my neck.  It's a good feeling.  I'm in two highly cerebral English classes, a super serial Women's Studies class, and Spanish 102, where we draw monsters to learn the parts of the body ("tiene ocho ojos, cuatro narices, y dos cabezas, y la prima cabeza solo tiene uno ojo.  Y gusta fumar y leer").  I love 100-level Spanish because it's exactly like the second grade in another language, and I really, really miss the second grade.  Especially the part where you get to draw monsters.

3. I've been working out nearly every day lately (although it's been more like once every other day for the last week or so, since I've gotten busy and lazy), lost ten pounds, and fit into size-10 jeans that I haven't been able to wear since my fist Christmas vacation home from Bennington, when I lost weight because I was depressed and lovesick and really lame.  Let me tell you, replacing fat with muscle is so much better than just dropping weight because you're miserable.  (Or is that obvious?  Hm.) 

I now go out of my way to watch movies starring people with great muscles, and have decided that this is kind of what it's like to be a guy--the way that middle school (and high school, and college, god help us) girls look at thinspo pictures and say "I wanna be like that!" I watch Kurt Russell movies.  (No, I don't want to be as muscular as Kurt Russell--that would result in a Tango & Cash crossdressing situation--I'm going more for Conan-era Sandahl Bergman.  But were the world mine...)

It's funny, because this whole workout craze started after I bought a Cindy Crawford workout and a Claudia Schiffer workout with Emily and Everyday Music one day, and was at first just a celebrity workout craze.  But the Cindy Crawford workout involved weights, which as we all know are a girl's best friend, and then the classic Firm series was introduced into my life, and once you've done a workout that involves clear-and-pressing ten-pound dumbbells over your head until you feel like your arms are going to snap off, jumping around your living room until you look like you've been thrown in a lake, and basically feeling for an hour or so like you're going to die right then and there...baby, you never go back.

4. Do I have a number 4?  I don't know.  Three seems like too few.  I went to the dog show yesterday, and saw ten corgis AT ONCE in the same place.  It's like walking around on Halloween and seeing a herd of batmen, or something.

5. I think I'm going to draw some monsters now.

6. But how are you?