Frou Frou

In the same way that I used to scour sing365.com for the perfect Third Eye Blind lyrics to post on my AIM profile, I spent a large part of the evening scouring poets.org for some validatingly high-profile words to capture the day’s sentiments. I’ll always be insecure about staking my space in the blogosphere. Why would you care about how emo Sarah was today? If I explained through Susan Dodd would I be legitimized? Nope.

So anyways I’ll just tell you what I did today. Woke up, watched Snow Falling on Cedars (that shit was GREAT!) ran, wheezed, went to Epsteins with a dear friend, got drunk, walked from Houston to 59th, pacing with the wind in my hair and Adele blaring with vocally-precarious gusto, came home, set up shop*

*Wait – sidenote – I decided to “get my money’s worth” of my rent and SET UP SHOP on my fire escape. By shop I mean what you see. Beer, soccer mom chair (GO LADY TIGERS! etc.), laptop, and down jacket as it is not warm in New York City. Sidenote to sidenote – my wonderful roommate photographed me (“Sarah! Take a picture of me being badass on the fire escape!”…”Ok?”). My fingers are like turgid little pickles because its ultraconservacold. They hurt Rush Limbaugh bad. I’m going to go inside.

Okay now I’m inside. I like to keep it short, keep it fly. So I’ll just end by saying that I listened to this song very much a lot today. Cristobal by Devendra Banhart. Yeah yeah but good okay?! It made me think of a lot of things: my increasing wanderlust (should I do the PeaceCorps?), all of the food I want to eat before I die (turgid pickles: a priority), how I potentially contracted a $6 manicure fungal disease today, how my personality would differ if my name was Lamaiaia, and lots of other profound things.

I really liked Snow Falling on Cedars. Ethan Hawke, another reason why 1999 was a better time.

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