Sarah Marie’s blog

wow, I can NOT wrap my mind around work today.  it's kind of amazing, how distant the task at hand is.  Has it all faded into the vaporous droplets of the quasi-fog outside this window?  I'm sitting in the Phillips Lab, having arrived early under the reasonable assumption that I would be able to control my hormones, daydreams, and Friday-interview freakouts long enough to write a one-page abstract for German Film - better here amongst all this technology and the busy tap-tapping of studious keys than at House of Aromas, where I sip soy lavender milky tea and look at pictures of Willow and Tara kissing, and Kirsten Dunst wearing nothing but ribbon-topped thigh hi's and a fan.

oh, did I mention I've been SO GAY lately it almost hurts?

it would hurt less if I had some fulfilling erotica to read, but, alas, the well-written stuff is SO difficult to come by!  And we all know the old adage, "if you want it done right..." but how am I to satisfy my own bibliosexual urges when I have an all-day interview on Friday and a freaking LESSON PLAN to organize before that?

this has been brought to you by the Pointlessness is Underrated Society.

IS

ready to be presented to the poetry-starved public!

Thinking About Mermaids Again - a zine of things forgotten and things that ask not to be - is a place for expression.  we have letters-cum-artwork, raw reactions, a sprinkling of poltical thought, lots of unbridled emotion, some Dadaist and word-collage work, and a shortstory featuring David Bowie!

want one?

Oh!

This zine has a new title.

it's called Thinking About Mermaids Again.

this week has a new title.  it's MRRRRRRRRR Time For You to End.  but I can't tell the week what to do, appearently.  Why, then, can it tell ME what to do?

I was going to fill my assumedly limited internet public in on my Agenda of the Next Ten Minutes, and then I thought, "wow, all I ever do is eat sandwhiches, if you believe this blog!"

um, much more goes on off-stage, be assured be assured be assured.

Join the campaign to end this week RIGHT NOW.

There will be to Reason in any of this - if devoloped rationale and an explicable motive is what you seek, walk on.

There are people, who, by the misfortune of WHEN our paths crossed, I don't like.  They greet me and I sense, perhaps innacurately, a judgement in the corners of their lips - because you met me on the third worst day of my life, and when we met again, I was not in top form - I was subformed, unrehearsed, trembling - the disintigrating wick in a warrior's candle, the wax that drips over the side of the table without ever touching skin.  dry.  flavorless.

It's not your fault that you saw me here,
nor is it your fault that you never saw me, again, as I am,
not your fault, of course, that you never saw the flickers,
never felt the burn,
never had any reason to, you know, believe. me.

but, "it died on your lips"?  that's harsh before 11 am.
harsh when, on Monday, I can say fully and without exaggeration that I've had A LONG FUCKING WEEK.

looking through materials for my (perhaps mistltled???) zine,
I find a card, from my father, it says inside, "Dearest Sarah, I love you and I miss you, Love Dad."
well, I miss you too.
I miss you more than I ever CONCIEVED of ever HAVING to miss ANYONE,
I miss you more than either of us could have POSSIBLY imagined when you wrote those words from New Orleans,
and sent them enveloped on the wind to Iowa City.
I miss you more than I ever believed I could live through.

and I can't fault the people who don't know that.
and I can't fault the people who don't know me.

A sandwhich is what I need.
It's what I need right now.

Other generations thought they had it.  I mean they really thought they had it, it seems, had it DOWN, had it figured out.  They were wrong, and it was this very certainty that damaged a lot of things and solidified a lot of structures and reinforced the dominant thought patterns that violently disproves any reason to have ever been sure, and then, it looks from here, like Generation X came along and said, "OH NO! WE DON'T GOT IT!"

and then my generation said, "got what?  a MySpace page?"

there really are a lot of people who Just Aren't Thinking About It, aren't there?

Yeah what should we do about that?