at odegaard

“To me, I think my hair is black.”

“It IS black.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Well, it’s not when you dye it.”

The library: Not just for smart people anymore!

In related news, there is a guy rapping his heart out inside of a room labeled “Sound Studio”. I know this because everyone can hear his voice carrying through the closed door of the not-at-all-sound-proof Sound Studio. The Sound Studio is conveniently located within a larger area of the library that also contains signs letting students know “You are working in a quiet area.”

E

A guy friend just texted to confirm that we have a date this weekend.

Then: “I have two ideas. What are your expectations?”

Umm…?

“What are the ideas?”

“Monster trucks or a hockey game.”

 

good intentions and sentence fragments

NEW YEARS RESOLUTIONS 2012:

1. Blog more, Facebook less.

2. Stop using nouns as verbs.

3. Finally make an effort to decrease the size of my gut.

It is the Achilles’ heel to my hotness. I reached a low point in the dressing room at Forever 21 over the holidays that made me realize only so much layering can hide it. (More crop tops!)

4. Rekindle my passion for Perler bead crafts.

5. Continue resisting peer pressure to use the compost bin.

6. Avoid dating guys who live south of the airport.

(Guys with stomach tattoos, guys who work at a bowling alley, guys from a part of town nicknamed “Rat City”, guys with three-legged dogs, guys who accidentally critically injure their friends due to drunken mishandling of a firearm, guys who put more gel in their hair on a daily basis than I have ever used in my entire life, guys I meet in line for the nacho stand at the ice rink, guys dressed head-to-toe in denim who refer to it as “a Texas tuxedo”, guys who buy Marlboro reds by the carton, guys who have more motorcycles than conversation skills.)

7. Avoid flirting with married guys.

(Any.)

8. Quit stalking people on the internet, although it does give me an undeniably satisfying sense of relief to see the dude who rejected me checking-in at a visit to his podiatrist.

9. Get a haircut.

10. Get a real job.

11. Stop partying all night and sleeping all day.

12. Find a new therapist.

It’s harder than you might think, to research, schedule, and making billing arrangements with a person when the very reason that you need to see that person is that your depression chronically blocks you from getting anything done. It’s like if you didn’t have any shoes and someone told you to just walk to the mall and buy a pair.

13. Come up with better analogies.

xox

all true

“Are you two going out?”

“We are out somewhere right now.”

“No, I mean, are you a couple?”

“We are…a couple of…people.”

“Ah. You’re good.”

HOW IS THIS ANYTHING PART 2: I SERIOUSLY DON’T GET IT

Hey, Sara. Curtis Cartier here, reporter at Seattle Weekly. 

Hope you’re doing good.

So I’m writing up a piece about Michael Walker’s blog and was hoping you had a couple minutes to chat by phone.

Lemme know!

Curtis Cartier
Staff Writer
Seattle Weekly

roommates

“Were you just laughing at me?”

“It looks like you’re not wearing any pants.”

“I’m wearing shorts, because I had to put cream on the backs of my knees, because-”

“-Oh, because that thing is back?”

“-Because I have a fungus- Yes.”

“Oh. Anyway, can you be my life coach for like five minutes?”

” … “

” … “

“Really? You really don’t think that anyone else would be more qualified for that at this point?”

HOW IS THIS ANYTHING?

Hi Sara – now that class is over, I was wondering if you would be willing to talk to me sometime about your experience with the “Photos of Sara” Tumblr. It was just a really fascinating story, and I think I know an outlet that might be interested in it. We can keep it anonymous and change the names if you’d like, but I think it might be really interesting to go through the experience, especially considering you ended up interviewing the guy! 

No worries if you’re not comfortable with it – I would certainly understand.

Hope you’re well.

Best,

m.

grocery shopping

interview with a stalker: more crop tops!

Sociopath?

As the subtitle of Michael Shane Walker’s blog (photosofsara.tumblr.com) notes, he “doesn’t know me.” At least, not really. I first met Michael back when Randi used to throw these ridiculous dance parties at her art studio, before her landlord sold it to a sandwich shop. I recall that I drank a bottle of wine that night, got too hot and changed into some Wonder Woman pajamas, but no memorable interaction with Michael comes to mind. He showed up with Nick and his roommates, who I’d invited. I later saw him once or twice at Nick’s place, and at school where I attempted to give him an acknowledging head nod, but he seemed to not recognize me. At one point I said to him at a party “Do you go to my school?” and he gave me a big shit-eating grin. He did go to my school. And somehow I never noticed him taking photos of me, never knew they were posted online, and never read the accompanying commentary he made about my style choices. Until now.

SM: What inspired you to create your fashion blog?

MSW: I wanted to have a fashion blog because I thought it would be funny because men don’t care about fashion. And I thought it would be funnier if it was just about one person.

SM: What was your most recent post about?

MSW: I saw you shopping at QFC. I took a video of it. My girlfriend was like, “Isn’t that her?”

SM: My friends want to know why you hate me so much.

MSW: I don’t hate you. I’m sorry. You seem nice.

SM: Really? Because it definitely seems like you hate me. Or are in love with me. Or you’re just a sociopath.

MSW: No, no. I’m not a sociopath. My girlfriend, Kate, is a sociopath. She is teaching me the sociopath stare.

SM: After meeting me once you commented on your blog, ‘I didn’t find her as appealing as my friends did’. Sounds like you hate me.

MSW: You’re cool. I said that because my friend James was hitting on you. He’s a creep.

SM: What would you say your fashion philosophy is?

MSW: Cheap. Tight. Cheap, tight, and…if it’s gonna be loose, it should be showing some skin, like a crop top. I wish crop tops would come back. More crop tops!

SM: What happened to the sleeves of your shirts?

MSW: I cut them off, I cut the necks too. It’s more comfortable, you can wear it under anything and nobody knows the sleeves aren’t there. I could be wearing a cut-off shirt right now and you wouldn’t know it. I probably have about 100-200 cut-offs.

SM: Cut-off shirts?

MSW: Shirts, and shorts.

SM: A hundred??

MSW: 100-200. When I was nine, I got into my first fight. I got beat up, I lost. I went home and watched a bunch of Kung Fu movies and realized, the guy always takes off his shirt before he punches somebody. That’s what was holding me back, my shirt and jacket. So I started cutting off the sleeves of my shirt.

SM: Why did someone want to beat you up? Did you make a fashion blog about them?

MSW: The guy was a sixth grader, and I was nine, so I was only in third grade. Big burly ginger kid. I was walking home and he made fun of my Fieval Goes West backpack. He was like “That’s fucking gay” and punched me. I got so fucking sad. I never watched cartoons again. Whenever a Disney movie came out I was like, “That’s gay. I don’t want to see that.”  I stopped carrying the Fieval backpack too. It was a brand new backpack from Walmart or whatever; I was really excited about it.  I started just carrying my books to school after that.

SM: How do you have room in your apartment for all those cut-offs?

MSW: Most of them end up on my floor after Kate wears them. She tries to steal all of my clothes. She’ll hide one of my shirts in her purse and then take it home and pretend like she just found it there. When I ask for it back, she’ll throw it on the floor and put on something else. But I have a secret cabinet that she doesn’t know about.

SM: Do you have any fashion advice for me?

MSW: No, you got it. Wear the gold boots more often.

SM: Done.

things that are pretty great

Contrary to popular belief, I don’t hate EVERYTHING. Here are some things that are actually pretty great:

1.Squirrels

Never pissed me off.

2. A couple of my buddies created and regularly perform at a comedy open-mic / showcase called Punchline Fridays in a bar near my apartment. With their encouragement, I finally pushed aside some of my public speaking anxiety and did a few minutes of stand-up. Not only did I “not suck”, as my friend Rick gushed, but I guess I was actually pretty good. Even some of the female comics who I’ve never talked to before approached me afterwards and were really supportive. I’m too self-conscious to relive my first set, but if anyone is yearning to witness me flap my hands around nervously and inaudibly spout such gems as “molestation is the sincerest form of flattery”, apparently there’s a video at:

http://www.ricktaylor.org/comicvideos/merker/

3.My derby team is undefeated as the official season is drawing to a close, and not only do I not suck…well, no actually that’s all. I don’t suck. And I couldn’t be more thrilled.

When I signed up for roller derby I had no idea how to even skate, let alone play the game. I was eager for whatever attention and advice I got from the more experienced girls, and as I became a little stronger and a little steadier, there surfaced a generally agreed-upon observation that I had a quantity of raw talent that could potentially turn me into a star player. Then I plateaued. For the last year I’ve found myself repeatedly disappointed in myself for not being better and frustrated with everyone around me for alternately underestimating my skills or setting expectations that I didn’t meet.

I’m only just now getting comfortable with the idea that I belong on my team, that I don’t have to be the best to be considered an asset. At the start of the season I was crushed when a coach told me “You’re not one of the better players.” He was right. I’m not one of the better players, but I’m not one of the worse ones. Looking over the stats from our last two games,  I’m pretty much exactly average. For now, my ego can accept that.

4. Also, our team mascot is the best. He dresses up in a leotard and sequined pants and goes by the name Twiggy Stardust.

5. Lord Voldemort’s tweets.

www.twitter.com/lordvoldemort

The only other twitter feed I read is my ex-boyfriend’s after I’ve been hanging out by myself for too long, listening to sad British girl pop music. Voldemort’s updates are far funnier and appropriate for any occasion, regardless of Britishness.

6. My coworker Hutch

He says things like “I stayed up all night trying to do an impression of an old lady voice to impress you. But it just came out sounding like Dr. Girlfriend.” Thus we are BFFs.

I used to have to work with this annoying cashier named Phil who laughed like a serial killer and would ask me to make him sandwiches even though he was perfectly capable of making his own sandwiches. I would put on headphones and point to them when he tried to talk to me but he would still talk to me. So then I would literally just be like “I’m not listening to anything you’re saying” and he would still talk to me. Then he made a joke about cutting off someone’s scalp with an avocado knife so he got canned and now nights in the deli are much more pleasant.

7. My super gorgeous friend Ashley Kloote got married.

I didn’t actually see the getting married part because there was a minor car accident on the way to the ceremony, but the party is the important part anyway. The other important part is that Kloote and her super rad husband are moving to Seattle in the fall so I will have Paw Paw peeps to hang out with on the reg. That’s right. I said peeps.

8. Tramp stamps

Get yours today! Regret it tomorrow.

http://www.etsy.com/listing/76298205/tramp-stamp-temporary-tattoo

-xox-