tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35338342011-04-21T15:39:31.737-04:00"Allergic To Lingo" Imagination is a quality given a man to compensate him for what he is not, and a sense of humor was provided to console him for what he is.
<br>
-Oscar WildeSarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comBlogger2471100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1091671091800657692004-08-04T21:21:00.000-04:002004-08-04T21:58:11.800-04:00
It was Mr. Katz, in the Dining Room, with the Sleeping Pills and Vodka.
In the past week, the focus of my mind has been on a topic that I’ve done very little talking about. Actually, it’s something that nobody from Bard, save for a very few people, know anything of. This isn’t so much because I’m reluctant or embarrassed about it, but more that finding a way to fit the statement "So my dad lostSarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1091598674037441402004-08-04T01:48:00.000-04:002004-08-04T01:54:25.250-04:00
But I’m not dead yet!
Though I must confess to having sold my soul (at least for the summer) to fake Irish casual dinning. Specifically, the sort that usually comes with a side of tartar sauce. In other words, really, really, fake Irish food.
Those who are aware of my employment history know that I have a tendency to apply, (or, as in the case of Hooters, "try" to apply, as they claimed to be Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1085634105265484602004-05-27T01:01:00.000-04:002004-05-27T01:01:45.266-04:00
Well, maybe you can go home again
I see coming home after completing a year of college as somewhat like coming down with a severe cold, not because I find it to be unpleasant, but because I see it as a temporary free pass. For these first few days back I have a minimal amount of expectations of myself. Yesterday was spent lying around listening to my dad’s Robert Johnson records and reading Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1085375264296202122004-05-24T01:04:00.000-04:002004-05-24T01:07:44.296-04:00
Before I forget it, the last week or so of my first year of college:
1. What Leon Botstein said as he turned to me to put his hand around my shoulder:
“Today I talked them most wonderful ignoramus.”
What I said to Leon Botstein as I got up to leave:
“You should give Andy Champ-Doran a big raise.”
What Leon Botstein did not say, but I’d like to pretend he did:
“Sure thing, I’ll make room in mySarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1084126413132823512004-05-09T14:13:00.000-04:002004-05-09T21:12:41.873-04:00
When your legs are black and blue it's time to take a holiday
1. My photography professor told me earlier this week that I’m a conceptual photographer. The worst part about this is that I think he might be right. Another check mark for accomplishing the next step along the path to becoming the sort of person I like to make fun of.
2. Some friends and I have an ongoing conversation that gets Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1083293961725875792004-04-29T22:59:00.000-04:002004-04-30T00:48:56.250-04:00
Suprise
1. As soon as we stepped into the auditorium for the talk before we would all be presenting our research, it became apparent to all of us how much we stood out from the rest of the crowd. It had been a long time since I had been off campus, and I find that anytime I've been at Bard long enough I start to forget that the society that exists in outside world is different then that of BardSarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1082609705616577142004-04-22T00:55:00.000-04:002004-04-22T22:43:33.826-04:00
Notes for mostly famous people who will never read them
A note for Frank Gehry who likes to design unpractical things including the location of my current employment:
The first part of my work shift on Tuesday was devoted to hiding shelving units from your impending presence. For while you didn’t even want there to be a scene shop, after loosing that battle you apparently took little interest Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1081640415354528762004-04-10T19:40:00.000-04:002004-04-11T03:17:07.090-04:00
Back at Bard, in Reverse Chronological Order
1. Today we met one of the greatest B-celebrities of all time. There we were, enjoying one of the first warm Saturdays at Bard, and amidst the hipsters riding a pony, boys stabbing each other with Styrofoam swords, and South Asian students playing cricket, there walks by Bob Saget. There was eye contact, a nod of recognition, and then off he walked Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1080791813407441652004-03-31T22:56:00.000-05:002004-03-31T23:00:25.513-05:00
Two More Reasons to Love The Human Race
1. The other day I was reading a restaurant review that wasn’t really noteworthy, save for the line, “My friend enjoyed the fish soup, but personally I found it to be too fishy.” Now, if a restaurant reviewer wrote, “I can’t say I liked the chocolate cake, it tasted too much like chocolate,” it would be edited out, but clearly complaining about fish soup Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1080536555896028932004-03-29T00:02:00.000-05:002004-03-29T00:06:04.840-05:00
The Girl That Never Sleeps
On Friday afternoon, I was thinking about how great it was when life managed to resolve itself. Facing being stranded in New York City for two nights without a place to stay I had found a prospective free lodging last minute, which at the time seemed pretty much guaranteed to work out.
On Friday night, I was thinking about how staying with a friend’s brother who wasSarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1079327692276257582004-03-15T00:14:00.000-05:002004-03-15T00:19:03.326-05:00
1. Cities Can Never Bore Me
I at least attempt to understand what protesters are trying to say, but the sight outside Grand Central was beyond comprehension. The main visual aspect of the rally was a giant inflatable rat. The signs said, “Strike!” The soundtrack for all of this, and I think this was what completed the spectacle, was Brittany Spears.
2. On Bard Professors:
After exiting one Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1078722102515993162004-03-08T00:01:00.000-05:002004-03-08T00:04:43.780-05:00
A Very Bard Moment In Kline
Between bites of what was another bagel sandwich for dinner, a man with dreadlocks and intense, somewhat frightening, blues eyes approached our table.
“Can I draw a star on any of your shoes?”
“Well actually” I said, “I think you already have.”
[Back up to Saturday morning when I discovered that my shoes, which had spent the night outside my door, had been adornedSarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1078376650339736522004-03-04T00:04:00.000-05:002004-03-04T02:01:06.170-05:00
1. The sacrifice we'd been planning for weeks -or- The only order here is chronological
At work on Tuesday someone asked me what I did with myself this weekend, and after briefly considering my options I replied, "To be honest I didn't really do much of anything."
2. Tuesday also marked the end of what was an impressive streak that lasted a total of two weeks and one day. At some point Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1077694364976844232004-02-25T02:32:00.000-05:002004-02-25T02:49:32.060-05:00
We may be out of control, but Cat Power is crazy -or- The concert we went to instead of Botstein
She had only played two songs and she was already crying. Before she had come onto the stage Omer had turned to Angela and I and asked, “Are you guys nervous about this?”
Suffice it to say it didn’t take long for it to become clear that our pre-concern was with good reason.
Which isn’t to say Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1075704826167831452004-02-02T01:53:00.000-05:002004-02-02T01:58:16.340-05:00
It's Good to Be Back
1. I've discovered that the only thing cooler than closing the library is getting closed in the library. When I left the small reading room it didn't take to long for what had happened to sink in. Last semester Nick and I toyed with the idea of leaving Keen and taking up residence in the library, and now it turns out that the idea wasn't so implausible afterall. Add motion Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1074327024585924792004-01-17T03:10:00.000-05:002004-01-17T05:09:24.653-05:00
The Importance of Being Earnest
Most of my break lately has been passed in a state of restlessness. While I fully condone the idea of taking breaks, no matter how you look at it five weeks is a troublesome length. Too short to find someone in Baltimore to hire me, but too long to keep track of time by how long it’s been since you’ve gone to an all you can eat Indian buffet. For as much as I Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1072677437434711372003-12-29T00:57:00.000-05:002003-12-29T01:07:08.543-05:00
Another Sign it’s Nigh Time I Got My Hair Cut
Between the pants and winter coats a woman turned to me and said,
“You know who else has long hair?”
“Huh?”
“Jesus Christ.”
“Oh. Uh…”
“Here, I’ve got some literature you can have.”
Holiday Traditions
Every year I make a secular pilgrimage of sorts to the mall. Every year I become too frustrated before I’m able to buy anything, save for an Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1071201625714090882003-12-11T22:56:00.000-05:002003-12-11T23:04:08.700-05:00
Bard: A place to be told your current passion will soon cease to be by the very person who instilled it.
It’s funny, considering how much of my time photography consumes, that I talk about it very little with other people outside the department.
Tonight, instead of writing of focusing on a term paper, an upcoming exam, or even a poster session, I decided to meet with John Pilson, my current Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1070565668246178322003-12-04T14:20:00.000-05:002003-12-04T14:23:11.903-05:00Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1070339329969933392003-12-01T23:26:00.000-05:002003-12-01T23:29:42.793-05:00
Home or “that place where I don’t feel compelled to wear sandals in the shower”
1. Somewhere on the New Jersey turnpike it occurred to me that the degree that I value coming home can be found in the people I’m willing to share a small space with for seven hours.
Girl: There are two types of people I really hate: Mormons, and people from Baltimore. Mormons are just nuts, and people from Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1069831498712738912003-11-26T02:23:00.000-05:002003-11-26T02:25:43.826-05:00
Applying Knowledge Learned in the Classroom to Real Life
The story for how I ended up in Microeconomics is a lengthy one, but to give you a basic idea it was around my 6th choice for my last class. Signing up was somewhat an act of desperation for credits. Though I also remember thinking something along the lines of “this will help me understand the world works.” Yeah, something like that.
Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1069385078957984022003-11-20T22:16:00.000-05:002003-11-20T22:25:16.233-05:00
One of those "Woah, Shit, I go here" moments
"The first thing we learned was that the Revolution will not be comfortable. At every rest stop and gas station we were received as a traveling circus / freak show (one woman literally asked us if we were members of a traveling circus, seriously). Tattoos, dreadlocks and piercings become more and more obvious the further South you go. ... Also, we Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1069134277366545552003-11-18T00:09:00.010-05:002003-12-04T12:44:13.593-05:00A few things about the last few weeks or, "hey look I still use this thing"
1. Outside the Calvin Theater in the cold I pretended to read for two and a half hours. At one point a deranged old man interrupted my vain attempt to catch up with work and asked us tell him about the band we were waiting for, because as he explained, “I’m an old fucker whoSarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1067733423541175892003-11-01T19:31:00.000-05:002003-11-01T19:37:15.686-05:00
Work, Part II
It wasn't until about fifteen minutes that one of us finally realized, 'hey, you know we're literally watching paint dry."
It was a glorious moment for human inefficiency at 5.15 an hour.Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1067136462453776932003-10-25T22:45:00.000-04:002003-10-26T01:22:36.000-05:00
Teen Tempe and Stretched Puns
Before my arrival at Bard I had heard of the phenomena that after L&T the quality of Kline food went considerably downhill. So after the end of L&T I waited for the dependable pizza to loose its crunch, the tofu what texture it had, etc. Yet after a month of the semester had come and gone without any decrease in my enjoyment of meals I assumed I was in the clear. “Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1066581822374324442003-10-19T12:38:00.000-04:002003-10-19T12:49:29.713-04:00
Something I wrote around a week ago, but was too lazy to post:
As a little kid I’d see ads for sitcoms, and as a result I had a lot of preconceptions on what sort of person I’d be as a teenager, all of which later turned out to be wrong. For one I was convinced that I’d be spending an inordinate of time talking on telephones. This of course never happened for multiple reasons, the main being Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1065716737624792282003-10-09T12:23:00.000-04:002003-10-09T12:32:32.543-04:00
Because it's been awhile and this is worth hearing:
A Fith of Beethovan -Walter Murphy
Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1064546283109773872003-09-25T23:16:00.000-04:002003-09-25T23:21:38.126-04:00
Why I will never work in an office in 3,454 words
In the scene shop the other day someone was there for their first shift. “So,” she asked, “how many hours a week do you work?”
“Well, I work 12 hours here, 7 hours at ISROP.”
When she heard this, her facial features formed a surprised expression, which in turn surprised me.
“Why do you work that much?”
The easy answer is that I need the Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1063944295806128012003-09-18T23:44:00.000-04:002003-09-19T00:52:17.406-04:00
Le Banquete; Bernard Faucon
Of all the spots on campus, Keen is not exactly the most conductive to thought, and so I find myself spending a fair amount of time in the library. As a sort of reward for finishing my work, it’s my custom to browse through the photography books. The other night it soon came apparent that one of the books I picked out was one that I had looked through a few years agoSarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1063782432840130752003-09-17T03:02:00.000-04:002003-09-17T03:07:12.930-04:00
On Tuesdays I get up ridiculously early. The whole concept is rather novel to me, for in high school I always took the option getting up as late as possible (or as was often the case, later than was possible) in order to get to school as it started. I even coined my daily morning sprint as the “8:00am shuffle.”
Now on Tuesdays I wake up at 7:10, and I don’t even have to be anywhere for over an Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1063299035561556102003-09-11T12:47:00.000-04:002003-09-11T12:50:35.423-04:00
A miscalculation
For every action I make, I have some logic behind it. Not to say that it often makes a lot of sense, but it’s there nonetheless. A perfect example of this is when I would tell people languages were my Achilles heel, their follow up question was understandably, “Then why the hell did you decided to take Russian?” “Well,” I’d say, “I already had taken Latin and French and knew I Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1062459744952298822003-09-01T19:42:00.000-04:002003-09-01T19:42:24.853-04:00
Out
“It is very strange that when you set a goal for yourself, it is hard not to hold toward it even if it is inconvenient and not even desirable.”
Sure, Steinbeck wasn't referring to updating his blog once a day, but he could have been.
And now my schedule, but first a disclaimer:
The irony of registration day was that the class for which I waited in line for an hour before the whole mess Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1062211511669213432003-08-29T22:45:00.000-04:002003-08-30T01:37:17.050-04:00
Hannah's Here
With each passing train I became filled with anticipation as my eyes scanned the faces flashing by behind the small tainted windows. But any positive feeling was short lived, and soon a sense of dread would descend when all the passengers had gotten off, revealing Hannah’s absence was once again confirmed.
Sometimes express trains passed by without stopping, and each time I felt Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1062129094065448192003-08-28T23:51:00.000-04:002003-08-29T02:10:45.350-04:00
Happy Happenstances
1. When I sleep, I sleep. One Saturday while I munched on a bowl of Chex cereal at around 3:00pm (sometimes I feel the need to eat meals in a proper order, regardless of time) my Dad remarked that when it comes to sleep, I’m like a camel. It’s true; I can go for stretches of time without much rest, but I can also sleep 15 hours consecutively with ease.
Last night you Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1062041168431313132003-08-27T23:26:00.000-04:002003-08-27T23:27:14.786-04:00So, what did I see last night?
Nope, definately not that.
Hmm...warmer.
That's the one.
So it turns out I can't say I saw Mars when it was closest to the earth. However I can say I was looking in the right direction at the patch of dark blue clouds where it should have been at 5:51am.
The color of the sky at sunrise however, did not disappoint.
Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1061934736150274872003-08-26T17:52:00.000-04:002003-08-26T17:52:16.156-04:00
In case you didn't hear:
Tomorrow morning I will be able to say (with pride) that I've seen Mars at the closest distance from earth in all of human existance. When I was explaining this plan of mine to someone a few days ago they gave me an odd look and asked, "Isn't Mars bright enough tonight?"
Hannah was right when she called me "selectivly anal retentitive."
I've even got Annie signed on Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1061867252191189522003-08-25T23:07:00.000-04:002003-08-26T00:26:34.190-04:00
Part II of All Things Terrible
I’ve mentioned before that I enjoy bad films. I wouldn’t say that I like them, just that I enjoy them. I should note that this sort of thinking goes beyond movies. The next topic I’d like to touch base on is a publication that’s near and dear to my heart, and is, I’m proud to say, the broadest reaching publication in this fine country.
Parade magazine doesn’t Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1061772531119865502003-08-24T20:48:00.000-04:002003-08-24T20:48:51.103-04:00
Sometimes you have nothing to say.
Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1061687358756029182003-08-23T21:09:00.000-04:002003-08-23T21:09:39.750-04:00
James, Annie, Sperkins and Skratz go to town
After waiting around for fifteen minutes we decided to sit down. When another fifteen minutes came and went we began to consider the idea that the loop bus just might not be coming back, and that it was quite possible we were…(dramatic pause) stranded in Red Hook!
We weren’t alone though. There were three other Bard students, and one adult who Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1061601502665999912003-08-22T21:18:00.000-04:002003-08-22T22:29:26.553-04:00
Graffiti straight from an Olin bathroom stall:
Person 1: Maybe if women made more Hollywood films then Hollywood films would be less shitty!
Person 2: Or we’d get more “chick flicks” (Nora Ephron) or action films muddled with errors (Peacemaker)
Person 3: Just teach the men.
Person 4: All men aren’t soulless. Just most of them. (Like most women)
Person 5: You mean like all women.
Person 6:Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1061519354359115982003-08-21T22:29:00.000-04:002003-08-21T22:29:14.353-04:00
Cannibal Tours
This movie was my cup of tea; it was the sort of film that makes the horrible seem horribly hilarious.
First off, I should mention that it was a documentary on tourism in New Guinea.
In one scene a French woman turned to her husband and said, “Oh, look at these children! I want you to take my picture with them” as she sat down on a log nearby. After much effort she finally is Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1061436699207877812003-08-20T23:31:00.000-04:002003-08-20T23:31:39.133-04:00
Trains, Planes, and Automobiles
Prompted by our discovery of the train tracks on our second day at Bard, Annie and I were both instantly reminded of books from our childhood. Was this just a coincidence, or did everyone read books about a pack of kids who, for whatever odd reason, end up on a train trestle, and then fate makes the train come so most jump off in the river below, but one doesn’t Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1061345071841894472003-08-19T22:04:00.000-04:002003-08-19T22:06:45.250-04:00
“Nudity is not an accomplishment”
Besides from saying a few things that sound amusing taken out of context, Botstein (president of Bard) made a lot of other statements, many which would be meaningful no matter what form you put them in. I realize that some Bard students have an aversion to him, but honestly I can’t see why. While I realize it’s probably because I’ve only been here a little overSarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1061262167381267592003-08-18T23:02:00.000-04:002003-08-18T23:04:45.326-04:00
For all of those who said I wouldn’t be spending much time in Red Hook…well let’s put it this way: in the last five days I’ve been in town three times. Sure, it doesn’t hold a finger to Baltimore as it’s about the size of one small neighborhood, butSarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1061169951228012402003-08-17T21:25:00.000-04:002003-08-17T21:25:51.223-04:00
"It's a wide, wide world web" or "when ethernet still hasn't lost it's novelty"
Really, this has to be one of the more bizzare reasons for creating a website that I've seen. If I actually thought it would work I'd make one asking for coffee money, except coffee doesn't exactly make for cute Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1061077784640028292003-08-16T19:49:00.000-04:002003-08-16T19:49:44.500-04:00 The shortest job interview
"Hi, my name's Sara."
"Hi Sara. My name's Andy."
"I was wondering if I could get a job working in the [theater] shop"
"Do you want a job working in the shop?"
"Yeah."
"Well then you meet the qualifications."
If only more things in life could be that easy.Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1060984776412679002003-08-15T17:59:00.000-04:002003-08-15T18:05:56.620-04:00 Bubbles
It was a muddled state that I found myself in when I awoke from a much needed nap. Interestingly enough, one of my firsts thoughts was “huh, if the college changed while I was asleep I’d have no way of knowing it.” Not a particularly remarkable thought, the sort one has when they’re still trying to figure out exactly where they are Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1060747259577735222003-08-13T00:00:00.000-04:002003-08-13T00:03:47.643-04:00"De ja vu all over again" in the Kline
Part I: Getting in
"Card please"
"Oh, well see I don't have one yet, but I am a student"
"Write your name down and get one by lunchtime."
"Okay."
(24 hours later)
"Card please"
"Oh, well see I came late so I don't have one yet, but I am a student"
"Write your name down but you really need to get one by lunchtime."
"Okay."
Part II: "I'm from Baltimore"
Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1060658557138516222003-08-11T23:22:00.000-04:002003-08-11T23:24:16.513-04:00(Note: For those at home the reason I haven't been online isn't because I don't want to talk to you, but I still don't have ethernet, I problem I hope to fix tomorrow.)
Summaries
When class started the professor waved her hand in the direction of the ground and said, "Write a summary of the text you see on the floor." Looking down I saw several random objects and so, while wondering what the Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1060546921875227012003-08-10T16:22:00.000-04:002003-08-10T16:22:01.860-04:00I took a challenge to post once a day, and I plan to keep that challenge...even if I don't have ethernet yet. In the place where my port should be is just an empty hole mocking me and my unquenched internet addiction.
For this reason I give you cheap filler, but as a lot of people have been doing the same, I don't feel too bad doing it. It seems really the challenge isn't so much to post once a Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1060423129950326842003-08-09T05:58:00.000-04:002003-08-09T05:58:49.916-04:00
I have an illogical, but nonetheless long standing tradition that the night before I leave a location I pull an all-nighter. Essentially the idea is to get the most out the remaining time left, even though it’s usually spent alone with a book, an activity that really has nothing to do with your location. Like I said, it’s an illogical tradition. As much as I hate to admit it, I, like most humansSarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1060379531552229622003-08-08T17:52:00.000-04:002003-08-08T17:52:11.380-04:00
As the time when I’ll be able to count down the hours until I head off to Bard gets closer and closer, I’ve been thinking about what it will be like to leave. I’ve been trying to predict what I’ll miss most, and the more try, the more I realize it’s impossible to separate things. At one point I decided it would be the city I’d miss most, being that Red Hook isn’t exactly a metropolis. But then ISarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1060230438044606382003-08-07T00:27:00.000-04:002003-08-07T00:27:17.973-04:00
Red Lights
While waiting for a light to turn in my favor as I drove home, I saw a malnourished man, who couldn’t be much old than I, strut across the street. The thing that was most striking about him was the belt that held up his baggy jeans. In large silver letters that glinted under the mid afternoon sun, the word “MONEY” was spelled.
It’s always struck me as ironic, and slightly Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1060155168707823872003-08-06T03:32:00.000-04:002003-08-06T03:32:48.676-04:00 Yesterday, without knowing it, I worked my last shift at work. I assumed that after having the same conversation about wanting to work Mon-Wed ten times with Rob, the scheduling guy, that I could assume he remembered. Apparently all those fables about his sour memory are true.
Initially I felt rather sad, as lately everyone has Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1059942229580600732003-08-03T16:23:00.000-04:002003-08-03T18:20:08.280-04:00 She came in through the living room window
Yesterday I broke into a house.
My house.
But before I go into why such a ridiculous thing would occur, I need to talk about my front door.
Of all the things I’ll miss leaving next Saturday, the lock in my front door isn’t one of them. We have a long history full rejection, Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1059549066939300402003-07-30T03:11:00.000-04:002003-07-30T03:11:06.923-04:00 Walter: Well I’ll be damned if you’re not right, Zagg. There is something about a cigar!
Young Fellow: Well, what the hell do you think I’m telling you. I said so, didn’t I? What do you think I am, a scholar? Or a diplomat? Or a bookkeeper? Brother, I say this and I mean it, and I know I’m right. That’s why I’m not Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1059020791854370652003-07-24T00:26:00.000-04:002003-07-24T00:26:31.906-04:00
As a busboy I never have to talk to the patrons, except when they first sit down.
“Hi, I hope you are doing well today. We have three types of water at Mezze. We have sparkling water, Evian, and then lastly we have tap water. Which kind of water would you like to drink?”
I figured that with time I’d feel less ridiculous having to give such an absurd spiel.
I hate it when I’m wrong.
Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1058812893821163992003-07-21T14:41:00.000-04:002003-07-22T02:57:46.953-04:00“Sunday Nights are Crazy”
Hannah and I have a habit of taking credit for any trait we find in the other that resembles a characteristic of ours that we take pride in. Often we are incorrect in our pompous assumptions, but there is one area that Hannah gets full credit for, and that’s my acquired taste for shit. Let me explain so there are no misunderstandings. I enjoy good things just like Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1058686738340761502003-07-20T03:38:00.000-04:002003-07-20T03:47:47.626-04:00.
Why Henry Scott remains to be one of the greatest people over 35 that I know:
Inside a beautiful edition of A Hundred Years of Solitude:
Sara,
The purpose of an education is wisdom.
The purpose of a job is so that you can have free time to read.
Fondly,
Henry
Sometimes I think it’s rule that if one part of your day goes amok, then all proceeding events must, as if by some evil fate, all goSarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1058428732005731792003-07-17T03:58:00.000-04:002003-07-17T04:01:48.140-04:00.
And now for an update so Hannah can have me in a half assed (like the old lady in Candide, eh?) manner.
I had basically given up on getting a fulltime job this summer. I figured if I was hirable material, twenty various applications would not have all ended in phone conversations that went something like this:
“Hi, my name is Sara Katz, and I handed in a job application four days ago, and I Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1057646480887853752003-07-08T02:41:00.000-04:002003-07-08T02:48:23.990-04:00.
Home Alone
The other night as I walked into my kitchen, I commented to myself that while my parents had only been gone for 36 hours, I had managed to turn the room into, using my mom’s phrasing, “a disaster area.”
And I had gotten carryout that night.
My parents have gone to the beach for the week. When I tell people this they all react the same. With a confused look on their face they Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1057118315379725682003-07-01T23:58:00.000-04:002003-07-02T00:53:49.080-04:00Finding parking in the city isn’t an easy task. Fueled by the all you can eat Indian Buffet (or in our case, more than we could comfortably eat) Hannah and I blundered about, remarking that our newly unfolded stomachs made the most banal motions (like sneezing and laughing) most painful experiences. But that didn’t really matter, because the weather was that perfect balance of dryness and heat, Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-1056668593041434742003-06-26T19:03:00.000-04:002003-06-26T22:37:24.896-04:00The Agony and the Ecstasy, as brought about from working at Loco Hombre
Agony: \Ag"o*ny\, n.; Having to scrape off into the trash beautiful shrimp, sautéed to utter perfection, while you are currently hungry.
Ecstasy: \Ec"sta*sy\, n ; Falling into a deep sleep before midnight, when for the last week, despite all efforts, you have not been able to fall asleep before sunrise.
It turns out I’Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-959952512003-06-24T18:13:00.000-04:002003-06-24T18:13:46.453-04:00
Today was to be my first day of work. I was excited, but mostly just relieved that after weeks of searching and taking annoying drug tests that I was finally going to be getting a paycheck. Bard's L&T program cuts the summer by almost a month, and I'm quite aware that time is running short, not that I could ever forget for a minute with my parent's incessant reminders.
So I left the house earlySarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-959326632003-06-22T23:26:00.000-04:002003-06-22T23:26:32.480-04:00
Oh lost youth!
On the way to drop off Lucie, Hannah’s sister, at the movie theater we found ourselves not surprisingly stuck waiting at a red light. To our left was a SUV. In the back was a young face with brown eyes peering our way from behind a tinted window. Hannah, having an affinity for young children, smiled and waved. Unlike most children who would have waved back, or at least cracked a Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-958830452003-06-20T23:42:00.000-04:002003-06-21T00:28:50.000-04:00
With a little help from my friends the Supreme Court will answer any qualms about being unable to find a job.
During the ride my mom was singing along to The Beatles. For “With a Little Help from My Friends” she’d sing,
“Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends
-- - --- ---- with a little help from my friends.”
To find out what people are ashamed of, just listen to the song lyrics theySarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-957318192003-06-16T18:20:00.000-04:002003-06-16T18:20:23.066-04:00
Tea for two, unless you’re a Jew
Soon after I parked a car pulled in next to me. I had parked fairly close to the line, and since I noticed they were pulling in cautiously, I stayed in the car just in case they couldn’t fit. For this reason I didn’t get out until they did, and so we both approached the parking meter at around the same moment. As it would turn out, interestingly enough when I Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-956673692003-06-14T15:25:00.000-04:002003-06-14T15:25:36.110-04:00
It had been months since I had last seen Mali. In the past six months I’ve only seen her a few times, usually in a large group of people, not the sort of circumstance that lends itself to frank discussions.
Seeing Mali made me realize how radically my social situation has changed in a year. Now it’s occupied by people I’ve only really gotten to know in the last year, but before it was Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-955255362003-06-10T19:03:00.000-04:002003-06-10T19:05:54.000-04:00
And I finally make the 2.5 hour rite of passage into the elitist society
If there is one thing I’m not particularly proud of, it’s the fact that I’ve gone to the same school since I’ve was six. Twelve years is a long time, especially when you spend it at a place you’ve grown less than fond of.
While I can’t say I feel nostalgic, it does feel a bit odd to know that I’ll never see those people ISarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-953917272003-06-06T20:56:00.000-04:002003-06-06T20:56:13.890-04:00
Margot and I made it to the ice-cream store ten minutes before it closed, but we would not be the last to make it in. As we were ordering a woman in her forties walked passed the tables, chairs already stacked on top of them, and made her way over to the counter. She started to talk to the girl behind the counter, but she must not have know her in very positive circumstances, because the girl Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-953077392003-06-04T20:45:00.000-04:002003-06-04T20:45:16.410-04:00
Margot and I got to the cabins a good fifteen minutes before everyone else. Having reserved two spots in one of the nice ones, we walked off to the picnic tables nearby to read. As our classmates made their way to the cabins we wondered who would join us, hoping we’d get some quiet good-natured folk. However, the first people to enter our cabin were the exact opposite. But I wasn’t daunted. Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-951613182003-06-01T15:32:00.000-04:002003-06-01T15:32:08.623-04:00
It was a sloppy turn. But in all fairness I did it one handedly. Somewhere in the middle an object flew by, just making it into my peripheral vision. Worried that something was wrong with the car, I turned to the faithful rear view mirror.
I remember as a child being amazed at the ability of the adults around me to leave coffee mugs on the roof of their respective cars. I remember making fun ofSarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-949796622003-05-28T03:57:00.000-04:002003-05-28T04:04:47.000-04:00
Three Things:
1. As Puh’tok to comes to a close I’ve decided in many ways it isn’t so bad. Not that I like carrying rusted iron bed frames out of a chapel that reeks of mothballs, but all and all the work is doable. That is, except for the constant state of being tired that goes along with it. The only moment in my day where any energy exists is that brief moment between the day being over, andSarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-946600202003-05-20T20:53:00.000-04:002003-05-20T20:53:13.693-04:00
Yesterday it seemed like one big cruel joke. I mean who rakes leaves in the forest? I don’t know about you, but when I go to the woods I expect leaves.
Welcome to Camp Puh’Tok
Remember how in the second Adams Family movie the kids are sent to a summer camp and the theme is Native Americans, but it’s done in a campy patronizing way? Well Camp Puh'Tok is just like that. I bet “Red Feather,” Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-944134402003-05-15T17:55:00.000-04:002003-05-15T17:55:10.526-04:00
It's over and done with
Today marked the last day of high school for me. Sure I still need to spend nine days setting up a summer camp, but rumor has it you finish in the first three days, and the rest of the time you can spend however you please. Sounds like a perfect excuse to spend hours reading outside.
Being the sort of driven person that I am, I wanted to finish the year off with a bang.Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-941158662003-05-10T15:27:00.000-04:002003-05-10T15:27:55.763-04:00
I might not have found god yet, but I finally found Jack Kerouac.
I should be said that I love libraries. They might be one of the most socialistic programs in the country, but more then that I just find the idea that anyone who wants to can read almost any book they desire (at least in big cities) and it’s all free. Baltimore has a particularly beautiful main branch downtown with marble Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-939121272003-05-07T02:18:00.000-04:002003-05-07T02:18:00.910-04:00
In the name of progress
While searching for my most recent learning disorder screening to send to Bard, my mom happened across one taken when I was in second grade, and I quote:
"One day when Sara came to my room I noticed that she was wearing her shoes on the wrong feet. When I alerted her of this she replied, 'It doesn't matter. They're the same.' "
Sure, I still turn left when Hannah tellsSarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-938413402003-05-05T23:17:00.000-04:002003-05-05T23:17:13.716-04:00
Utilitarian Cat Nap
When I came home today I had resolved that despite any apparent lack of energy, I'd finish all of my work in one fell productive swoop, rewarding myself by turning in early.
Then I entered my room.
On my bed lay two of my cats, curled in ways that my spine envies, their fur dappled with that warm late afternoon/early evening sunlight. It was then that something Margot saidSarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-937253512003-05-03T20:24:00.000-04:002003-05-03T20:24:47.473-04:00
As I rolled over to look at my alarm clock the reality of being awake at 8:30am on a Saturday morning slowly set in. I say slowly, because I haven’t slept much lately, and so lately the mental gears haven’t been working at full capacity. Especially at 8:30am on Saturday.
Hannah and I always like to ask how much we’d do for the other. Cutting my weekly Saturday morning coma tragically short to Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-934320532003-04-28T20:23:00.000-04:002003-04-28T20:24:59.000-04:00
Money doesn’t talk, it swears
From Ashley’s away message last night:
One day Alice came to a fork in the road and saw a Cheshire cat in a tree. 'Which road do I take?' she asked. 'Where do you want to go?' was his response. 'I don't know,' Alice answered. 'Then,' said the cat, 'it doesn't matter.'
That said, all of the final offers are in, and here are my options on how to spend the next fewSarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-933197982003-04-26T21:06:00.000-04:002003-04-26T21:06:01.310-04:00
For sometime I’ve had a philosophy of illness that more or less states that if one ignores their sickness, they aren’t really sick. The result is that when the symptoms of sickness begin to rear their ugly face I make every effort to go about my business as usual. Because if I let the terrorists in my body change my life, then they’ve already won.
The truth of the matter is I’m just that Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-931568022003-04-24T00:09:00.000-04:002003-04-24T00:17:34.000-04:00
New York City in a Day
5:15am
Today I actually woke up at 5:15am. I’ve gone to bed at 5:15am before. But all honesty, I couldn’t have been more genuinely willing to be somewhat conscious at such an hour, because I was going to New York City for the day.
As we made our way to the car two joggers ran by. There are a lot of things in the world that I’ll probably never understand, and one of Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-930200932003-04-21T22:35:00.000-04:002003-04-21T22:35:32.560-04:00
A post that for some reason never got posted, on an event that happened over three weeks ago, that I now post in dedication of Hannah's most anticipated return to Baltimore.
It was one of those situations that, had it not been for the substances swirling around our inner lobes, would have been quite easy to figure out.
The facts of the matter were simple. The bus took only exact cash. The Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-928117942003-04-17T21:48:00.000-04:002003-04-17T21:48:48.780-04:00
Let’s try “human kill day” instead
He started out saying, “I’ve never given a high school talk before.” This would to prove to be a most accurate harbinger.
The idea behind Human Relations day is to provide us with information on either other humans, or critical analysis on how we relate with others. It’s a noble concept. In the past we’ve had a media analyst come in, the president of the Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-924953592003-04-12T15:04:00.000-04:002003-04-12T15:04:26.746-04:00
Waking Up is Hard to Do
Judging by how often I’m late to school, after seventeen years of experimentation I’ve yet to find a way that works. The usual drill involves having a “dream” of my mom yelling at me at around 7:00am, followed by actually hearing my mom yell at me again at 7:15. Then at 7:20 the sheets are ripped off with and air of frustration and I’m forced up, giving me ten minutes toSarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-922740462003-04-09T02:15:00.000-04:002003-04-09T02:15:21.653-04:00
As Meredith already pointed out, today [well technically as I write this "yesterday"] is [was] my birthday. Being 18 so far hasn't changed anything in my life, except for the fact that tonight when I was driving past midnight a cop couldn't pull me over for breaking curfew. Not like they ever do that anyway. One advantage to living in a city known for its heroin junkies and high murder rate is Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-921822262003-04-07T19:40:00.000-04:002003-04-07T19:40:53.890-04:00
There have been actual studies that show that what people fear most isn’t death, but public speaking. I am one of those people. My public speaking experiences then, not surprisingly, have been fairly limited; the 7th grade musical that everyone had to participate in, my 8th grade speech, and now my senior speech had come.
When people asked me about it during the morning I told them I was Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-920695682003-04-05T22:25:00.000-05:002003-04-05T22:25:07.466-05:00
I haven’t posted in awhile. My apologies. It was a combination of having a lot of work to do, being extremely tired, and not having much to say.
My school has a lot of silly traditions. One of them is that for any graduation everyone must wear white dresses. The 5th and 8th graders can get away with something just below the knee, but for your senior graduation it must be at least down to the Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-917462062003-03-31T20:49:00.000-05:002003-03-31T20:49:33.436-05:00
And the final score is in:
Those who love me: Bard, Beloit, Clark, GW, Hampshire, Kenyon and Lewis and Clark.
Those who love me in theory: Carleton and Oberlin
Unrequited love: Chicago
Conclusion? I applied to too many colleges. That, and I still don't know where I'm going as Bard has yet to tell me [they said sometime in early April] how much money they'll be giving me. However, if their Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-916713312003-03-30T18:29:00.000-05:002003-03-30T18:29:25.390-05:00
We learned in biology that the main purpose of sleep is to reboot the human machine; to discard all the dead matter which results from the daily battles of the immune system, to go through all of the stimuli that took place in the last day and sort them out, etc…
I never really sleep during the week. This is what the weekend is for.
And by this I mean more than just the actual process of Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-915120352003-03-27T19:21:00.000-05:002003-03-27T21:36:28.000-05:00
Once again I’ve fallen in love with Allen Ginsberg’s writing, the first time being in sophomore [wise fool] year when I wrote a paper on his poetry. Except this time it isn’t his official poetry I’ve been reading, but instead a volume of his journals [that read rather like his poems] ranging from the early 1950’s to early 1960’s. For me reading Ginsberg is a similar experience to living that Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-912661452003-03-24T01:58:00.000-05:002003-03-24T02:13:31.000-05:00
This spring break, like all of those who have come before it, started out with a lot of good intentions. I promised myself I would do all of the following things:
*Catch up on all that Calculus homework I've spent the last few months ignoring
*Finish The Republic and start and finish "Bush At War."
*Go down to D.C with Margot and be part of the live audience at Crossfire.
*Shoot at least two Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-911094072003-03-21T01:38:00.000-05:002003-03-21T02:07:00.000-05:00
Paternal Wisdom
"It's a hard job being a human being, and everyone is trying their best, it's just that most people fuck it up."
Well said dad.
In the last few days I've been floating between protests, candle light vigils and teach ins. Every time I tell myself I'm being proactive and that that's a good thing.
Now I'm not so sure.
I've felt this way for awhile, and with every event I Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-910401862003-03-20T00:18:00.000-05:002003-03-20T00:20:11.000-05:00Lately I've been driving everywhere with the windows down, wearing a t-shirt and the disposable sunglasses the eye doctors gave me that resemble something that people 60 years my senior would wear. But that's okay, because according to my biology teacher, when you don't sleep at my age your brain in response actually releases chemicals that "age" your chemistry, so you can function on little Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-908656842003-03-17T12:51:00.000-05:002003-03-17T12:51:06.280-05:00
Saturday I headed to D.C to reassure my consciousness that if idealism turned out 50 years from now to be valid and not just a load of crock, my bases would be covered. That, and it was utterly beautiful out. It was the sort of weather we dream of in January, as we stubbornly wrap ourselves in our blankets, refusing to make our way into the cold world.
For whatever reason I was tired on Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-908121752003-03-16T13:44:00.000-05:002003-03-16T13:44:26.090-05:00All Girl Schools Are Scary Places
Yet the 100th night dinner, with its red balloons and school napkins, was supposed to make me feel nostalgic for all the memories I have of the place, but if anything, it just made me all the more excited that I'm leaving it forever in a few months.
A few weeks previous they had us write down where we saw ourselves in 10 years, realistically, and in our dreamsSarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-906633612003-03-13T14:47:00.000-05:002003-03-13T14:47:52.450-05:00Star Trek, Drugs, and other Nonsensical Remarks
My calculus teacher was on a roll today.
"It's a matter of what happened to theta as it got out of bed this morning."
"Maybe I'm from planet Zerous but not according to our mathematic system!"
"You'll think I'm really kooky now, but the sanctity of the equal sign is...."
And then, the climax. Today was senior day, in which there is a tradition Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-905671242003-03-11T23:37:00.000-05:002003-03-11T23:37:08.733-05:00
Two Aspiring Theater Critics from Clifton Forest High
"So um.....how exactly are we getting free food, and free tickets?"
"It's sorta a long story....."
"Ah.....is this legit, or is this Hannah-legit?"
"Hannah-legit. See, Center Stage has this program where if your going to write a review of their shows for your school newspaper, they'll give you free tickets."
"Ah.....so I suppose I should Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-904984822003-03-10T22:38:00.000-05:002003-03-10T22:40:10.000-05:00
In Today's Inbox
From: Harrington, Meredith Sent: Mon 3/10/2003 1:25 PM
To: Class of 2003
Subject: PKG FOR YOU IN US OFFICE
From: Katz, Sara Sent: Mon 3/10/2003 13:78 VM
To: The Man
Subject: Stop wasting my money
At first I was excited. A package? For me? This could only mean good things. Or at least that's what I thought. So what was my mystery package? Fifty index cards that tell me I'mSarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533834.post-903870382003-03-09T00:19:00.000-05:002003-03-09T00:23:30.000-05:00
I'm tired of a lot of things, but don't worry, I'm not going to talk about them. That would make for one of those pathetic posts nobody cares to read. Still, I feel the need to make this statement, because I do get nostalgic for the past every now and then, and so as a message to my future self that will one day read this, Sara Katz at 11:46 on 3/8/03 was tired.....of things. An ambiguous Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08296457161004876411noreply@blogger.com