Thursday, February 24

Mom's Responce to My Desire to Come Home:

It would be fine with me, if you want to travel all that way for a dress!
I guess you're right about flying, so I hope you can look into ticket
prices and stuff.
Keep in touch. Love you, Mom

Thanks for the encouragement, in your own way, of course. *rolls eyes*

Project Jay

I told you before that I loved Project Runway, but I think I forgot to mention that I LOVE JAY. He's got an amazing sense of style, an impeccible sense of humor, and he's flamboyant and fun and altogether everything I could ever want in a designer. More. He's awesome.

Luckily for this household, he won tonight. Unfortunately, Kara Saun really showed off her bitter, repressed, spoiled-FUCKING-brat side and went with the shoes she'd been given for free. Also, as much as Wendy was a bitch to everyone, Kara Saun was even MORE of a bitch. That's saying a lot.

Jay stayed out of the whole thing, I might add.

What I really have to say about Jay is that although he reminds me of my (less flamboyant) brother, he's older and at a point in his life where he knows what he wants. I feel like my little brother isn't exactly sure what's going on for him all of the time, but I want to let him know that it will come to him. I have faith in him. He needs to be creative, and I think he's slowly coming to that realization. He needs to be expressive, and I think that's even more important. Also, I would like to know if he was watching Project Runway. And I would like to know if he's as hot for Jay as I am. Purely for geneological reasons, of course.

YAY FOR JAY! I will buy some of your outfits as soon as they come to Target and go on clearance. Probably sooner, I will buy Many Many Cheap Knockoffs, to satisfy my very real desire to be clothed in his inspiration. He's amazing.

I love Jay.

Tuesday, February 22

Caution: Scary Picture Ahead!

Here's me, looking slightly disgusted with myself about the test I'm about to take:

This is the test. It won't work unless you've got a camera to take a very specific, scary picture of yourself like the one I just posted. That, my friends, is called a fair warning. Consider yourselves lucky. I had no such warning when I took the photo, and I almost had a stroke. People are supposed to do things with their facial muscles, that's what they're there for. Otherwise, you end up looking like me, in that photo. Creepy, eh?

Anyway, here's what the test said about me:

trait snapshot:

messy, disorganized, social, tough, outgoing, rarely worries, self revealing, open, risk taker, likes the unknown, likes large parties, makes friends easily, likes to stand out, likes to make fun of people, reckless, optimistic, positive, strong, does not like to be alone, ambivalent about chaos, abstract, impractical, not good at saving money, fearless, trusting, thrill seeker, not rule conscious, enjoys leadership, strange, loves food, abstract, rarely irritated, anti-authority, attracted to the counter culture

And I think it's pretty accurate. Almost spookily so, actually.

Sunday, February 20

What I know so far...

1. He still wants to marry me.

2. I still want to marry him.

3. We are doing it on May 12.

4. We are doing it in St. Petersburg.

5. On the beach.

6. At sunset.

7. We're hopefully going to procure some sort of temporary residence.

8. Likely, we're flying down on Monday or Tuesday.

9. I am a half-assed (as opposed to full-assed, or whole-assed [not hole-assed, well, yes, hole-assed, but not in the way I'm trying to convey]) planner.

10. I'm going to Shawano for a week in March, to make full use of my mom and my Best Maid. I want them to help me plan some stuff out, and to help me look for a dress.

This "simple" wedding stuff is more stressfull and harder than I thought, and I miss my friends. I want Lisa to help me look for a dress and I figure my mom might cry if I don't invite her, so that's how she got invited.

Here's my email to LISA:

"I so want you to help me shop for a dress. You're much better at telling me what looks good on me than anyone else, and you're the least likely of all my friends to let me dress up like: a) a whore, b) a transvestite, c) a fat cow, or d) a fat transvestite whore than anyone else I know. It might just be because you want to be able to tell people that I'm your best friend, but I don't care. I'll take the charity (and the honesty) wherever I can get it. I'm thinking I can probably get something acceptable at Deb, seeing as how they've got white prom dresses almost year-round thesedays, and they don't cost a fucking fortune. Are you planning on wearing something special for the wedding? Maybe L's dress? I don't want to steal her theme, but seeing as how everyone else there will probably be in swimming suits with shorts over the top, I don't think "theme" is the word I should use. In any case, if you want, we can shop for you a good "Best Maid" dress at the same time. Lucky for you, I don't have a set color yet. The only concern I have is that you said the dress from L's wedding was navy blue, and I don't know if you'll be comfortable on the beach in a dark color. Also, I don't think the rest of my family will be dressed in anything remotely fancy (see the swimming suit thing above). I know how you love to stick out like a sore thumb, but maybe you want to consider a cheap sundress or something. How old do I feel saying something like sundress? Guess.

I was sort of hoping that I could get some of this other stuff planned while I'm home. I don't know what to do (if anything) about flowers or cake. I don't even know if we're going to need any. As far as flowers go, I want a bouquet, and we can get you one too, if you'd like. As far as cake, all I know is that any excuse for cake MUST be taken, lest you offend the cake-gods. Hopefully, we'll be able to find a nice cake in a store somewhere, because no way in hell are we going to pay a shitload for it. I want your opinion.

I can't wait to see you, and to go out and catch up. We also need to go for a few walks while I'm in town - the streets in Springfield just weren't made for walking. My boots WERE made for walking (haha), but there are no fucking sidewalks here, and the people drive like they're 80 years old, and from Illinois.

I'm so glad we got to talk today, it really made me feel better. I can't wait to get up there and see you and plan. We'll do it like we normally do, with a few boxes of wine in our system and a little black book to write in. Hopefully when we look it over at Perkins the next day, we'll have a couple good ideas and a whole lot of stuff that makes us pee our pants laughing.

Love you, but not in a gay way (ok, but only a little),


a non-stop cavalcade of fun: HEY KIDS......

This is a great post, if ever a great post there was!

Friday, February 18


I just found a karaoke entry slip from last summer. Lisa had written it out, then asking me if she should put it in for me.

Sing with Tina Marie
Song Title: ???
Song Number: ???
Your Name: Sarah S.

On the back:

That One That Goes:
Uh? wuhwhahhwah....
the road that I must travel...
uhhh-uhhh whahhwha...
highway in the niiiiight

I love Lisa.

Thursday, February 17

Baby's Named a Bad, Bad Thing

I don't remember when I last laughed like I laughed when looking over this site. I can't believe people.

Sad, almost, to think that I don't ever want children, and yet Bruce and I would be SO MUCH MORE SENSIBLE about it than these people.

A spattering of my favorites:



And my personal favorite people:
"In a few months I'm going to be a new mom, and we know its a girl. My dh and I have been discussing names lately (we already have six children: Jack Dominick, Rose Solenne, Monroe Charlize, Ophelia Eden, Heart Scarlett, Pascal Sebastien) and our favorites right now are:
Phoenix (she was conceived in Phoenix)
Cielle (see-ell)
Maxime (max-eem)

I agree with the site's owner; these people have got to be lying. "These people, being either liars, new age cultists, schizophrenic Dungeons and Dragons players, Mormons, or all four, make most commentary on those preposterous names moot."

Wednesday, February 16

"Oh My GOD, he's HUGE!" This picture was taken right as I was making the After Saying HUGE face, so it really brings out my double chin. Yay me!. After this picture, I'm going to post a bunch of cutesy pictures about my Totally HUGE!! kitten, because this is my fucking blog, and I can. He's adorable. I don't care what you cat-haters think. Also, please note that although I did post in the first person (first person being the CAT), I did restrain myself from referring to myself as 'Mom', because even though it might be cute here at home, no one can hear us and disown us at home. Because He Promised, That's Why He Can't. And because I said so. (And I'm the Mom. Don't be a perv, I'm not talking about him.)
"Yes, that's me in the box. The Lady has drank her way through many of these, let me tell you! I thought I'd investigate and see what was so spectacular about the bottom of the box. Little did I know The People were fixin' to trap me inside. The nerve of these people!"
"Maybe if I make my head really really skinny.."
"Oh no! I think someone spotted me.."
"If I move quickly, perhaps I can avoid the Giant Finger of Wine-Box Hiding Shame."
"Time to make my escape!"
"God, Woman! You TOTALLY HUMILIATED ME ON THE INTERNET! Take this, bitch!!"
Self-Portrait Wednesday rears it's (new) ugly head. Because deep down, all I really want is to be like Emily and Heather. But then again, who doesn't? I especially like the residual dinner on my right cheek. I'm so gorgeous, I can afford a little wing sauce on my cheeks. Right? RIGHT?!?

Lazy Ass

I haven't updated in about a week. I'd like to blame this completely on our firewall issue, but I have a feeling that excuse is only good for Bruce's New Website. (If any of you has a link for Bruce, could you change it to his new page? Eventually? I'll give you until after I get off my lazy ass, at least.)

I haven't had much time for the computer, as Bruce is working on it (from home, the fucker!) now. I'm stuck watching godawful TV, like Queer Eye for the Straight Girl and Project Runway instead. It's not a bad life, I guess. At least I'm feeling happier. (PS: I Love Jay From Project Runway!)

I bought (and yes, I've watched it all already) Buffy, season 3. It's good, but a little bitter. Seems like everyone was breaking up with everyone in season 3. Sort of like season 6, but there's less sex in season 3.

We went to Mac and Pam's house yesterday, and had a blast. We played Eye Toy and pool and danced with the kids for a while, and eventually had dinner. We have a new rule, "No spanking on Commando Tuesday." Best not to ask. I have to say, that EyeToy TOTALLY KICKED MY ASS. No lie. I'm totally sore in the arms and shoulders. It's a pain to sit on the couch and watch TV. And you know I'm in pain when I can't lay on the couch watching Project Runway without bitching about it.

I think I'm going to go, because Bruce chose now (after I started posting my first post in a week) to start the Batman: The Animated Series DVD we bought this weekend. I best get in there before it's too late.

Again, here's Bruce's new link.

Thursday, February 10


I wanted the people who might come to my site to read that email I sent to him, and I'd hoped to get some comments on it. I wanted to know if it was good, if it was irritable, or if it was simply too insincere to be considered.

I guess I got my answer with the email that came the next day. It was an email sent to the person I was 5 years ago. It wasn't fair, knowing myself how I know me, but it wasn't unfair, coming from someone who last knew me 5 years ago. I can say without a doubt, however, that I have changed completely from who I was at 19. Can any of you say otherwise?

Tax Return Extravaganza/Delicate Crazy Hormonal Girl

This week has been one of the most rollercoastery of my life. That's a word now, I just made it. Oh, you don't think I can do that? You don't know me very well. Ha! I'm word-creater-extrordinaire! Or something. Anywho, this week? Up-and-downy. Seriously.

Two Fridays ago, Bruce put in his 2 weeks' notice at his job. He was hoping to recieve his PTO (Paid Time Off for you civies--like me) along with those two weeks, only to find out that they wouldn't be giving it to him. Three weeks of paid vacation, down the tubes. You can't really blame him for taking a few "sick" days, can you? I sure didn't. Little did we know that because of those sick days, his boss decided to accelerate his resignation. It was effective the day he returned to work. He was paid through the following Wednesday. Then started the race to find a job.

Luckily, this all came at this most glorious time of year: Tax Return Holiday. Bruce had made a fair amount of money at his job in 2004, and had recieved nearly all of it back the previous year. I was pretty sure to get over $250, at least, and that was enough for us to get (at the very least) through our lease - which ends in March. The only thing I was really hoping for was for Bruce to have some time to find a good job. He wasn't happy where he was, and I could see it was wearing on him. As the week went on, though, I realized that I was stressing out about money and finding a job more than I had thought. Everything seemed to culminate yesterday, when we went to H&R Block.

Fortunately, Bruce got a few raises last year, enabling him to take insane trips to see that completely amazing, beautiful, intelligent, awesome girl, and fall completely in love with her. Come on, who wouldn't? Luckily for him, he made the big bucks, and was able to fly her down to spend a week with him in his hometown, and proposing to her. Haha! Yay me!

UN-fortunately, because of those raises, Bruce got bumped into a higher tax-bracket. Although I'm not a tax expert, I do know that IT SUCKS. Now he won't be getting back 3-4 thousand dollars. He's getting back only half of that. I HATE TAXES.

I'm still getting back the money I expected, which is good. I hate to say it, but I think I had my heart set on getting Bruce's return. It's getting closer to May, and I want to be able to tell our relatives exactly where we're staying, and where we're planning to honeymoon. My freak-out level is reaching the breaking point. It's TIME! My brain keeps ticking down the months, days, and hours. It's a great thing to look forward to, but we really need to get planning. Planning, as with everything else in life, is easier with THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS. Maybe we should start selling organs.

Bruce got a job yesterday. It's a job doing internet market consulting, which is exactly what he was doing at his old job. It's great because he's working with a smaller sampling of websites, and that means he can really focus and get what he wants out of them - and make sure that they make some good money. He's working for a really great guy, too. The best part? He gets to work from home! The worst part? GOD DAMN IT, WHY CAN'T I WORK FROM HOME?! Although, internet consulting works better than pharmacuticals.. WAIT, I COULD TOTALLY SELL DRUGS AT HOME!!! Kidding, folks. Please don't send out the fuzz.

Things are looking much better now. I have a suspicion that it could be the Brand New Birth Control making me depressed. Has anyone else had that experience? I need a new pack of pills starting tomorrow, so I think I'll ask the lady what she thinks. Even if it's not the pills, it can't hurt to switch. When she first put me on them, she told me that I could switch after a few months if there was anything I didn't like about the ones she'd put me on. Hopefully, it was all the stress of Bruce's crappy job situation that was making me worried and depressed. If not, I hope it was the Crazy New Birth Control that was doing it. At least that's easy to fix. I just hope I'm not one of those people who can't be on it. Just think, maybe my Delicate Balance of Hormones can't take it. Ha! Talk about the most inconvenient Only Delicate Thing About Me ever.

Tuesday, February 8


There's something wrong with me, and I don't know how to fix it.

I wish there was someone I could accuse of making things wrong, but there's not.

I wish someone could fix things, but they can't.

I don't know what to do. I know things used to feel better, but it seems impossible to me.

I'm not sure why things went this way, but they did. I want to make things better, but it seems impossible.

I'm not sure what to do. Sometimes, I feel like the world's worst person, and there's nothing to keep me from believing it anymore.

I just want things to feel like they did.

Monday, February 7



If this is still the Casey I knew, could you email me and let me know?

It's still me, your old (albeit estranged) friend, Sarah.

I would write you a huge email, but I won't. I'd tell you about my life, and how things are going now, and wish you'd write me back, but I won't. I'd ask you how things were going, and hope for a responce, but I won't.

I know that things didn't end on the best of terms, and that you had full reason behind everything that was last said. I wish things had been different, however, and that's the damn truth.

If I were a more open person, I'd tell you about everything that's been happening in my life in the past 3 years. Then again, if I were a more open person, I'd have told you as it happened. As it stands, I'm still not as "open" as I would have hoped to be. I don't want to open myself up for utter disappointment, anymore than I ever have been.

I hope this is still where to find you. I haven't searched and tried to find you, so I can't be sure.

There is one thing that you can be sure of, however. No matter how far you've gone and how much of me is past your interest, I've thought about you. If it wasn't every single day, rest assured that it was every single week. I don't expect that you've done the same, but I hope that whatever you have thought of me, it was in fond rememberance, and not spiteful. We had so many good times, dude, and I hope they haven't all been forgotten.

Please, if this is you, write me back. No judgement this time, and no pretenses. I promise.

Always, Sarah

Thursday, February 3


Here are a few things I envy:

  1. People who know what they want. I'm jealous of the kids in 8th grade who didn't go home crying (not that I did, mind you. What a loser that would have made me!) after the highschool guidance counselors came in and told us we had to have our lives mapped out in three days. I'm talking about my cousin in specific - the one who told the family that she wanted to be an astronaut when she was 3, and who is now in Huntsville, Alabama going to college for astro-physics (or whateverthefuck you go to school for before you're a fucking astronaut).
  2. a3ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww,
  3. People who's kittens will give them THREE SECONDS OF FREE TIME in which to write a godforsaken blog post about them. And then they also don't spend the next YEAR trying to BITE OFF MY TENDER UNDER ARM AREA WITH THE FLAB AND THE BITING OH MY GOD.
  4. Guys who can grow facial hair. Not cause I think it would be fun or anything like that, but because.. well, damnit, it looks sort of fun. Also, they can change their appearance all the time, or go without shaving and it actually makes them sexier. I think I've mentioned this before but OH MY GOD, THAT WOULD BE GREAT.
  5. People who don't feel like they could possibly eat ALL DAY LONG.

I've got to go, my fiance with the Very Recent Muchos Free Time is drawing feet, and he needs a model. I'll cover up my dysfunctional little toes, and hopefully he won't be into details. Like toe hair. Not that I have toe hair, because Oh My God, How Gross And Unladylike. Eww.

Tuesday, February 1

My penis's new name is Darth Vader the Great White Space Probe.
Take Name Your Penis by badasstronaut. today!
Created with Rum and Monkey's Name Generator Generator.

Yes, Even If He Talks To Himself

Somebody is cooking me dinner. It's all very exciting, and I keep hearing fragments of phrases filtering in from the.. stove. Damn alliteration and damn the Fs for not producing enough words. Some of the highlights were:

"Sauce Packet.."

"Uncooked Pasta.."


"Looks a little funny, doesn't it?*"

"Cover.. cover.. 13 minutes.. gross."

10 points to the first person who knows what gourmet meal My Darling Dear is cooking for me tonight.

Extra bonus goes to the first person to guess which flavor Hamburger Helper(TM) he's cooking!

*I think he was talking to the cat. Or that's what I'm choosing to believe.

[I get the 10 points because, well, I'm the greatest. Also, if you've been reading for any length of time, it's a stupid question. We eat Hamburger Helper(TM) at every single meal. And then we eat the leftovers after the bar closes, sitting on the floor in front of the computer desk, in the nude. And when we wake up the next morning, we get really sad when we can't figure out where the leftover Hamburger Helper(TM) went. And then when Bruce explains to us that we ate it naked sitting on the floor after the bars closed, we say, "Ahhh, yes, I remember. That was really good!" And then we make some more Hamburger Helper(TM). For breakfast.]

Raise Your Hand If You'd Rather Read About the "Stage Fart"!

I went out last night, with a new friend.

It's really strange living down here, and it's not entirely strange in a good way. I'm not sure how to explain it.

In my old town, I had friends that I'd met through mutual aquaintances, or through work, or that I simply had known forever. I was constantly running into people I hadn't seen for years. Everyone is related in northeastern Wisconsin, don't let anyone tell you any differently. I'm not trying to say that we're incestuous or anything - only that you're rarely meeting someone completely new. It's a comfort, or at least it was to me.

Here, every single person I meet is brand new. There are no comforting similarities that tie back to the people I've known my whole life. There is an invisible barrier somewhere between Wisconsin and Springfield; the two places are too far apart to have the threads of commonality that I found comforting when I lived in Minnesota. I'm finding out that the people are pretty much the same, and that is a good feeling.

The problem is that I don't have any friends that are my own. I'm pretty possessive of my friends, I'll be the first to admit. It's hard for me to *only* have friends that were Bruce's first. I like my own fan base, to be perfectly frank (again, for the thousandth time, does anyone know who the first Frank was?). I haven't found anyone I can really connect with here, oustide of B. There aren't any people I can sit down with, completely at ease, and know--just know--that even if it weren't for Bruce, they'd want to hang out with me. It's not that they wouldn't, it's that I'll never be sure. Like I said, I'm selfish with my friends.

I went out last night with my friend's new girlfriend. She's a great person, really nice and thoughtful, and we have a lot in common. The only problem I have with the evening is that it seemed a little.. well.. forced. I hate to be picky, and I'm really wonderfully grateful to her for inviting me to dinner and all, but it still held that underlying pressure. It seemed a little off to me from the start, because I've only really met her two or three times. And I was drunk those times. We had a good conversation, though, and I think we both had a good time.

I guess that what bothers me is that I haven't met anyone here with whom I have an instant chemistry. It's been a while since I've had an insta-friend. I miss that feeling.

This turned into a much bigger post than what I meant it to be, and much more unhappy. Trust me, you're better off than B, who is getting the full-force of it all. Honestly, I never ever used to cry. I'm guessing that it's my amazement and gratitude that someone's there and willing to listen to my thoughts and fears which are making me disolve into tears about once a month. Good news, though, it's becoming less and less frequent. Now, if only I made a friend, I think it would be instantly better. Life is strange for me lately, sorry about the lag in blogging.