Warning this Post is not for the faint of heart...or for any die hard Michael Jackson fans....

I logged on to yahoo reaLLLLLLLLLLLy hoping someone had written something other than the glowing emotional tributes that have been flooding the social networks, news stations and radio bulletins. Hoping that someone instead of playing a musical tribute to a fallen star would stand up and take a stand against honoring someone who deserves nothing of the sort. That someone would write, more eloquently than me, how sad it is how this country idolizes all kinds of people, the wrong people and puts people with money, fame and a reasonable amount of talent up on a pedestal despite how they act in private. How sad that despite all the facts, allegations and even just plain old creep factor, millions of people were in the street crying over a aging rock star that gave us some good memories over a tape deck 20 years ago. These were probably the same people who were wearing Free Michael t-shirts back five years ago when he was accused Again of inappropriate behavior toward little kids. I wonder where were the millions of people that came to the children's defense? Even IF the extreme case wasn't true, wasn't proven, was trumped up to extort money, just the simple fact that he himself admitted to having "sleepovers" with children, with giving them "Jesus Juice" and a host of other ungodly stupidity, should make us as smart intelligent Americans say a small thank you yesterday.

Shame on the parents of those boys for being silenced for so long. In shutting their mouths while they opened their bank accounts. They let him believe even more that he was untouchable even more invincible and all the more powerful because he had money. That the thrill of sending their kids to the Neverland Ranch overrode their child's safety. Sickening. Giving him the free pass to do what he choose to do and play dumb that no one ever told him touching little kids and letting them sleep in a bed next to you at night without clothes on is Wrong.

I. Call. Bullshit.

How his fame overshadowed his misdeeds saddens and disgusts me. How people are saying "Well if it weren't for the last 5 years or so he was great" No honey, that's not how it works. He wasn't great. He was a performer who used his influence, power and excuses to do harm to children and the people who trusted him.

Just because I heard Ted Bundy had a big cock doesn't mean I want to fuck him anytime soon.

(Pardon my french)

Yes I am sorry for his children...but you know what? I felt sorry for his children when he was dangling babies over hotel balconies and having them wear towels over their faces and costumes in public. No one ever did anything though did they? No authorities stepped in, their own mother even gave the responsibility over to this sick man to raise them because of what?? Come on now I know you know the answer don't hold back on me? MONEY! I would rather my children eat fried shoelaces and live in a box next to a power plant than give my rights over to a man who sat on television and held hands with a 13 year old boy. Where are their voices? Who spoke up for them? Where were the tshirts that read "Free Michael's Children"? This wasn't Winona Ryder being accused of shoplifting this was Michael Jackson being accused of the most heinous crime I can think of Child molestation. He dies and the world is morning? What may I ask are we so sorry about? That his life as a child was shitty? That his parents were strict and cruel? Yeah well too bad. Life sucks sometimes. He was wealthy he was surrounded by seemingly intelligent people that could have helped that could have stepped up to get him the help he needed long before. That could have prevented him from being in the presence of children.

If the local sex predator who lives around the corner from you suddenly kicks the bucket playing racquetball...does the fact that he was an amazing artictecht, or well known politician overshawdow the fact that he raped a seven year old little girl in a parking lot? God I fucking hope not.

I think what makes me sad is that no one is remembering anything more than "Oh I cleaned my room to Thriller", or "I had my first kiss to Billy Jean." That that memeory makes it okay what he did later in his life. I remember reading articles about the inhumane way Mother Teresa treated her volunteers in Calcutta and how she just really wasn't a nice person...but she wore a nun's habit and gave money to charities so that excused her for being an asshat. Sorry no. Just like I don't think Mother Teresa was "moody" or just had a couple of bad outbursts, neither do I believe that Michael Jackson was a great man but he just happened to molest little boys.His hand just slipped once or twice down their pants, but hey remember Man in the Mirror? Damn that was a good song so all is forgiven. I'll pass on the warm fuszzy memories of a sicko's recording career. Thanks.

Don't care about the music he gave us because for fucking once we need to remember what truly makes us a good person. Not by the material things we do or because we can sell a hit single, or decorate the White House, or even be the god damn President and live in the White House, those things don't make us who we are. And I hope that he was ashamed of the things he did, or god forbid were still doing, and realized that World tours and Hall of Fames and Gold Records do not a good man make.

Random Tuesday Thoughts: To Me It's All Just Mental Masturbation

Cause there's only way, there's only one way (drum solo) to rock!

Why is that all of the local radio stations here feel the need to have all 80's weekends? Just because I am the slacker that hasn't converted over to satellite radio I have to be subjected to Joan Jett and random clips of Lethal Weapon? Not really fair. I can be up all night and sleep all day with the best of them but 48 hours of synthesizer music is an overkill no?

Seriously $30 for Tesla tickets? I am thinking put on wife beater and watch them on youtube, it's practically the same thing. Good seats are still available though. No shit! Even though I would trade my Dora Live tickets for some Tesla tickets right about now.

I had the wonderful good fortunate of coming across the most coveted gift imaginable to any parent....the cheap and available anytime babysitter. I felt like Christmas had come early last week when I realized the girl I had hired to watch my kids this Summer while I go to school full time only charged $5 an hour! Even though I did have to remind her that just because she's cheap it still means she can only watch porn with her boyfriend on my couch only AFTER the kids go to sleep and that the joints have to be smoked with the windows OPEN, no exceptions. I'm a hard ass like that when it comes to the people I entrust my kids too. So being that she was so cheap I immediately booked her for the next 52 weekends. Score one for me.

Eric and I watched a movie about babysitters that were selling sexual favors to the Dad's whose kids they watched. Thank god this one can drive herself home. So if you are reading this Eric, sorry baby. I was googling images for babysitters and there are quite a few pornos with babysitters as the theme. I guess I am just old school and prefer the whole teacher/student scenario. Call me crazy.

Last weekend during my new found cheap babysitter freedom. I met with some local
bloggers downtown at a bar for some drinks. It was really the first time I had met most of the people there and I was kind of like a star struck idiot when meeting alot of them. They were so nice and welcoming and could easily drink me under the table in about 15 minutes so they have my utmost respect.

As previously mentioned on another blog post, which I would link to but 1. I don't know how, and 2. I am trying to, through psycho therapy, block that period out of my life, I wrote about my very unconventional crush on one of my city's great Councilmen, Gary Sandberg. Well he happened to be at the bar that night and after I stopped blushing profusely I actually got to meet him and talk to him. It was a very Marsha Brady meets Davy Jones kind of moment and I was thrilled to have it finally come full circle. Even though I didn't get to see him lick his eyebrows, but you know what? I am okay with that. Some things are better left to the imagination.

Saturday night Eric and I and some friends went out to eat then to a local bar downtown that had a band we all thought would be fun to see. We got there at about 9:30 and had to pay a cover so we asked the guy what time the band was going to start playing, when he replied Oh around midnight I couldn't help but laugh outloud. Seriously Midnight? God damn I am old. I wanted to ask where all the old people that have to get home to sitters bands play but didn't want to look like the kill joy.

But on the plus side, I did get a cool guitar hand stamp that made me feel like a rock star while I drank my Coors Light and made out with my boyfriend in dark corners of the bar. (Actually the making out part didn't happen but not from his lack of trying, mainly from my lack of ability to stand upright for more than a couple of minutes without getting dizzy. I have become quite a lightweight in my older age) Next time I do need to pace myself more since it was quite embarrassing trying to figure out how much money to pay the sitter and my multiplication skills were a tiny bit impaired.

My two year had a busy week last week. His father I 'll just call him the Moron for this story and his girlfriend, hmm lets call her Stupid Bitch, cut off all of my baby's beautiful curly red hair without my knowledge or permission. Actually Stupid Bitch took him, not the Moron. Who by the way, she is a mother and I am still trying to decide if she is just stupid or mean? Why would she take another persons kid to have his very first hair cut? She did save me a curl. Isn't that nice? My kid looks like he could be drafted now but thanks Stupid Bitch for the curl.

Then on Saturday, because it never happens on a week day when doctors offices are open, Nathan is jumping on my bed with his brother and fell and hit his eyebrow on my nightstand. So off to the ER to get factor and observation to make sure he didn't have a concussion. After about a half an hour of trying to convince the resident that yes, he barked at people before the head trauma we were allowed to go home. So now he is a bald little boxer and I break out into song everytime I see him.

"In a clearing stands a boxer, and a fighter by his trade and he carries the reminders of every glove that's laid him out or cut him to he's cried out in his anger and his pain....Lie da Lie....etc etc."

Thank you Paul Simon, or was it Garfunkel? Well yeah I don't think Garfunkel really wrote anything except that crappy song New York. He was mainly the looks in that operation no?

The hot guy at my gym always wears a hat while he runs. Always. I would be working out behind him grossed out at the sweat ring that would form on the hat and wonder how stinky his hat collection must be? But his kind of god like phyique helped me get over the sweaty hat issue. As I was pondering one day why he wore a hat to run in,he walked into the gym said hi to me and I didn't recognize him . Why you may ask? Well he didnt have his hat on that day and he is completely bald on the top. Kind of like he put one of those clown wigs on. Bald on top then tons of hair in a circle all around his head. It was disturbing and kind of ruined the fantasy right there. Someone should tell him that the Bozo look doesn't do anything for him...at all.

I watched Marley and Me last night and I cried the whole way through, not just in the end, but the beginning the middle and the end. It was like Where the Red Fern Grows, Ole Yeller, and Charlottes Web all rolled up into one, instead of a cute little comedy about a dog.

I registered for my last semester of school yesterday! Whoo hoo. So hopefully I will be done and be an actual real adult sometime in the near future. But really I am not holding my breath.

I feel so much better now. I am sure all my facebook friends were getting sick of me posting updates on my life every 5 minutes so I thought I would come back off of my blogging break and write it for all the cyber world to read. Random Tuesday Thoughts is once again brought to you by Keely over at The Un Mom and by all the useless mess in my mind.

Happy Tuesday!

Just A Song Before I Go....

Well I am not really going anywhere, I just love that song and it came on my iTunes as I was trying to think of a good title for this post. It was either that or The Bitch is Back and really Elton John Sarah? I desperately need to clean house on my music collection...

I first want to thank everyone who has emailed, commented, called, thrown eggs at my house, wondering where the hell I have been. I usually try to comment at least when I haven't been posting, but I have been a slacker all around the blog community. To tell you the truth there was no great reason not to post except I didn't want to. I channeled my inner 7 year old girl and rolled my eyes and stomped my feet in protest of writing anything that wasn't school related. Blogging had started to take up a huge part of my brain and I needed that part. I had started to walk a little off balance and run stop signs, it wasn't pretty. Because you know, travelling twice the speed of sound, its easy to get burned (Thanks for that line David Crosby)

One of my favorite bloggers recently said that she wasn't going to say she was going to stop blogging all together, because as soon as anyone said that they were done they were suddenly inspired to write like Shakespeare. So I won't say I am done, but I wont say I am coming back to it entirely either. Just wanted to let everyone know I am here. I have been trying to read all my blogroll and know that if I didn't comment I am laughing/crying/getting angry/reflective in the comfort of my bedroom. Hopefully the words and inspiration will come back eventually and you all will have one more blog to take up your time in the mornings.

The Game of Life

The fact that I may or may not come across as crazy to you people is something I struggle with on a day to day basis. The simple fact of the matter is I will never meet most of you face to face. Peoria, IL where I am at, has a wonderful group of local bloggers that I was really fortunate to stumble across when I first started this whole "blogtastic adventure" The fact that the community of bloggers in my local area is so great and so talented and so close nit and the fact that I am just at the cusp of starting to meet some of them and hang out with them and hopefully form friendships with them was pretty scary considering some of the topics I have posted about on here. I tell someone from California or Canada about my bouts with mental illness or the fact that I love John Denver well yeah so what, but when I know that people who I will most likely meet are reading it as well, or people that I have already met are reading it well quite honestly that scares the shit out of me. I never wanted to be a writer, or a philosopher, or an advice giver, or a comedian, hell I would settle for people just coming over here cause they need something to do while they are waiting for their oil to get changed (assuming bloggers carry around their laptops at all times waiting for good blog fodder to drop in to their laps...which lets face it I know we all do. right? Shit you mean that's just me??)

Anyway my point of this and I do have one (God I swear that is my favorite fucking line ever!) is that I don't mind coming off as little off balanced to my cyber peeps. When it comes to people I love, well yeah not so much. I strive to be as close to perfect as I can be for the people around me. I wouldn't call myself a people pleaser, but I like to make the people I love happy. I don't want to let anyone down or disappoint them in anyway. I am sure all good things, except when all that pleasing and acting a certain way and trying to be something interferes with life and the quality of said life. When it means sacrificng a part of who you are by nurture or nature or just by free will who you are to be what you think that person wants, well that's when it can become a problem. And that sucks It sucks big time. I don't really know how to change it either.

I get so incredibly scared of losing the people I love, because I have lost so much in the past that sometimes I overcompensate in that department. I either try way too hard for that person to love me or else I am the extreme opposite where I do anything at all to make the other person come to hate me (which to be honest the later is much more easy) The part of me that wants to believe that love will conquer all knows full well that it doesn't always do that. That sometimes despite our best efforts love will fail us and love will lose the battle and the war. Hell it can even lose the peace talks after the war. The paralyzing thoughts about if loving anyone is worth it because that love might someday cease to exist and then what? What is our purpose? I have alot of issues. I have alot of guilt and alot of shame and trust issues. I need to have perfection at times when I know that all I am capable of is mediocrity.

Relationships since my ex husband have run the gamete of being incredibly easy and fun and carefree (the therapist) not caring if there was a future, or a past even, just living in that moment and letting it all hang out...literally. To being so in love with someone that you don't want to go any further because you know that it will hurt so badly if and when it ends(present relationship). The whole reason why I went from one man to the next,the whole reason why I never wanted to have children, the whole reason why I never wanted to get another pet even, is the risk of loss. The risk of loss is so great that I just didn't want to even try and love. I have missed several wonderful opportunities in my life because of that fear. Some have ended by my own choosing and some others were forced to end because of that very reason.I think I may be at risk of losing the one person I love more than any other (non related) human being. The fact that I can get a little crazy, I can get a little scared and start to push and run and reason in my head all the ugly reasons why it will fail instead of see all the beautiful reasons why it could and should succeed is hurting us and it is a painful reminder of what I am not.

As I get older as my kids get older I am beginning to realize that I am in charge of this sculpture, this painting, this play this game called life or whatever other metaphor (or is it analogy?)you wanna give it, I am in charge of creating the life I want to lead for the next 40 years or so, the universe willing and I am wasting alot of it by imagination and fear. I don't want to fuck this up. I don't want to do something or say something out of fear and anger like in the past that will show a side to me that I may be willing to show to my cyber people but am terrified to show to the one I love more than anything.

I need some clarity.

To love is to risk loss.As the great CS Lewis wrote. The loss by abandonment or death or distance. The choice I need to make is if I am willing to make that risk...

Friday Frustrations-Do You Think Methadone Works on Caffeine Addicts?

Friday Frustrations is exactly like Tuesday Random Thoughts except without the catchy title or little banner or links to another site, or readers, but pretty much the same.

I am giving up caffeine and I compare it to probably what it is like giving up smoking, except when I quit smoking I felt like jumping off a cliff into a rocky ocean bottom and becoming one with the water as The Sound of Silence plays in the background.* Giving up caffeine is kind of more like me running into a brick wall and it hurts really bad, no soundtrack, no nice warm ocean water, just pain. Look for my book out called Million Little Pieces Part Two.

Because of my caffeine withdrawal I credit my most embarrassing moment which I no doubt will identify as my most embarrassing moment when I go back to giving a shit about things other than caffeine and pain. I was driving in my minivan yesterday when I got behind this slow car I mean resembling a funeral procession slow. I could not pass him due to all the other morons driving on the road at an abnormally slow rate. As I finally make my way around the driver I look out my window and mouth What The Fuck Asshole? (yeah seriously not my best moment but it was the addiction talking not nice sweet Sarah. I swear you don't wanna be around me when I haven't had any caffeine in two days its scary. Kind of like Amy Winehouse without a gin and tonic scary, but without the big hair, but with the smeared eyeliner and torn fishnets. ) So as I am mouthing those words to the driver I actually focus my blurring vision and realize that it is my pastor. The pastor I have very inappropriate dreams about. The pastor I haven't seen in two years because of my lack of faith and other heathonry I am involved in . He looks at me recognizes me, and then all his good thoughts about me I see dissolving into thin air as he realizes what I am saying to him. I am telling my pastor to fuck off. I am calling him an asshole. I see the hurt in his eyes as I speed off. It was not my best moment. Except there were no kids in the car so at least I might still be in the running for the Mother of The Year Trophy, which I think I should get anyway cause I bought about 100 boxes of Girl Scout cookies. But really only so I wouldn't have to sell any. I suck at being a salesman. I actually inadvertently convinced a friend of mine to buy an Audi instead of going to Eric's store to buy a Chevy. I have no idea how I lost that sale for him, but I guess its cause I am that good at sucking.

Then as I am slowly climbing out of my cuss the Pastor out hole. Thinking that I should be okay because I did in fact by 100 boxes of Girl Scout cookies and that has to count for something in god's eyes right? I think Jesus was a Boy Scout so maybe he can relate? The lady at Subway doesn't put my bacon on my roast beef sandwich. Which I should have taken as a sign from the group Save Sarah's Thighs and just been done with it, but no I had to rewait ( is that a word?)in line for another 5 minutes to get my sandwich as I mutter under my breath as I leave something along the lines of "What a bunch of fucking morons". Maybe I need to go back to church?

Then I get an email from my sgirlfriend who unbeknownist to me at the time started the begining of the email in the subject line. Please for the love of God if you do this STOP! Or else put a little disclaimer at the bottom of the message maybe somewhere along the lines of " Oh yeah I left all the important beginning of the invitation in the subject line so you may wanna go look up there and read it before you get totally confused and pissed off and write me an irritated email stating that you couldn't understand a word I wrote"

It is not a pretty site people! I am scaring myself. My kids are scared. the man at the gym at the front desk who I rely on for my daily 'Looking good Sarah' ignores me. Which I am usually a pretty confident person. And it is sad to say that I have pretty much come to rely on that guy for my shot of self confidence. Without it I just want to go home and put on my Walmart pants and pizza shirt** and crawl up in a corner and snort caffeine. It is a little bit pathetic.

They say any habit you are trying to break takes 21 days to kick. So I am holding out for day 21 and then see how bad I have gotten. I may need to be on Oprah with Lisa Ling when she outed that whole family that did heroine and then they got their kids taken away and sent off to separate rehabs.

*That was a scene from the best movie EVER Old School when Will Ferrel accidentally shoots himself in the neck with a tranquilizer gun.

**Pizza shirts are the waffle shirts that you can get anywhere that are best for eating/getting/ordering/spilling pizza on. You are welcome.

*** I totally am stealing the * idea throughout my post from Kurt. Cause he's cool and pretty much does Random Tuesday Thoughts every damn day and they rock, and I am pretty sure he gets to wear Walmart pants and pizza shirts daily and that brings him up a level in my book****

****For anyone that is wondering my book is pretty full right now, but I am still taking orders.

I know most of you are not going to believe that I gave up caffeine after reading this and some may even wonder if I have replaced Meth or crack, or speed for caffeine. But rest assured I am trying to detox my body of anything harmful so no drugs are being used at the moment. No animals were harmed in the making of this blog, only possibly the Pastor's believe in humanity and myself respect.

Random Thoughts Tuesday-Gettin Nothin But Static From Channel Z*

Oh yeah its Tuesday again. Does the fact that Tuesdays keep coming around so quickly scare the shit out of anyone else but me?

Its been kind of a busy week in my house. Spring is kind of springing which means that everything I was putting off doing because it was cold out is slowly becoming a reality and I am running out of procrastination tools. My kids put a hole through my screen in one of my backroom windows during their fascination with the "guy in the forest". Serves me right for being proud that my kids had active imaginations or thinking that they were just plain little liar liar pants on fires. Their screams of "Mommy there is a man in our forest !!" Were met with my laughter. Ahh the beauty of children. My homeless man is but a memory, but the hole remains. I think I read that exact line on a fortune cookie one time.

I would now like to pay tribute to my new favorite girl crush Vic over What Were You Thinking? and her love hate relationship with flamingos. If you haven't been over to read her do it now. (Well after you finish this and make a wonderfully witty comment) Her blog is what my blog wants to be like when it grows up. Even though my blog is kind of a punk ass blog that goes to the Alternative High School and just got busted for smoking a joint behind the bleachers when it should have been in remedial Math so I don't hold much hope. But a blog can dream....

So here you go Vic, Flamingo Baby by the great Violent Femmes ( I couldn't find the video but the song is almost amazing) .

You're a flamingo
You stand on one leg
You're a flamingo baby
You hatched from an egg
Well you hold your foot up
So delicately over the sea
And when it comes down
It comes down on me
Well it used to want to hump you
I used to want to rock and roll
I was attracted to your gracefulness
But your surprise sure took it's toll
Now I guess I'd better go out now
Gonna try to find something new
And all I'm left with is this craving
For some flamingo stew
Now the beauty is in the gutter
The loveliness is off her throne
In the eyes of the beholder it's gone
And now he feels kind of alone
But this feeling it is the kind that will shortly pass
I'm gonna find myself another bird
And roll on down the grass

I have made up a new drinking game for when I am watching Big Love with my boyfriend.The rules are: I do a shot every time he asks me one of these questions:

"Do you think you will ever let me have two wives?

or

"So when you are at the gym soaping the other girls up in the shower, will you take pictures?"

or

"Why do all his wives have to have different houses? Why can't they all just share the same bed?"

Seriously, questions I hear every week. I don't get the fascination. Really? I mean I get the fascination with having sex with more than just one person, but more than one wife? I guess if your whole eternal position in the heavens depends upon it maybe but it just sounds like a big headache to me. So I am gonna get my fifth of Vodka and gear up tonight to get smashed. Maybe I will be more willing to agree to the threesome/naked soapy pictures/plural wives with some rum in me, but I doubt it.

Boobs too? What the hell? They are pieces of fat on my chest. Why why why the need to be touching them all the time? Men have nipples, men have pockets of fat on their chests ( some more than others) I mean why not play with your own? You don't see me
going around touching your penis all day now do you? ( I just laughed that I wrote penis. I think I really am a 12 year old boy at heart). I know the boob issue is a stupid age old question that I will no doubt get some emails with cyber dirty "duh" looks from the men. But that's the price I will have to pay to voice my concern. I am a citizen blogger after all. ( I really have no idea what that means except that I really don't have a whole lot to say this week so this whole post is a big stretch)

My son just came in my office and told me that he knows what hello is in Spanish and then saluted at me? He's gonna go far that one.

My two year old can't really talk yet, and his overzealous 6 year old sister is constantly trying to interpret his grunts and Japanese/Swahili sounding sounds.

This morning Nathan held his finger up to Sophie and says "bwhahtiff"

Sophie says "Oh Nathan you have a hangnail?"

He just stopped his babbling and looks at her and says:

"No! Where the fuck did you get that from? From me holding up my finger to your face? No I want a freakin cookie, when I hold up my finger and say bwhahtiff it means I want a god damn cookie!"

No he really didn't say that but that sure as hell would have been funnier than him screaming No at the top of his lungs now wouldn't it?

The idiot that ran into the ractrack Sunday to catch the runaway tire, made me think back to when my ex husband and I who was just my boyfriend at the time were moving across country to Seattle when somewhere in the middle of Montana I hear him say "Oh shit hold on" Not words you really wanna hear when you are just getting into your John Grisham book. I look up and out the side mirror only to see our tire bouncing down the interstate, never to be found. Yeah you know those turning points in relationships, the ones everyone should go through to see if you and your mate are compatible? Like taking a trip together? Or living together? Or losing a tire on the interstate together? Yeah well we failed all three. But yet we still got married and reproduced. ( I'm not claiming to be a wise man, thank god) On the plus side we got to spend three days in Bozeman Montana (God's country, which I think is on their license plates somewhere ,and where it is mandatory to say "Ahh Montana that's God's country there" at least once a day in that town)where there is no sales tax. That's me alright always seeing the glass half full I tell ya.

My house has been overrun with Girl Scout cookies. I was doing so well on my diet too and then those damn Thin Mints call to me at night. So if anyone would like some cookies just email me your address I will send you some. I promise I won't stalk you and camp out in your kid's playhouse. Cross my heart.

*The song in my title is Channel Z by the B52s. I am somewhat obsessed with their
music as of late and I have discovered that I can run a mile in the span of two Love Shack songs. Who would have thought that would have inspired me to run a 9 minute mile? So if you see me commenting on your page with B52s lyrics, well you're welcome.

This weeks Random Tuesdays Thoughts, well actually every Tuesday Random Thoughts has been brought to you by Keely over at The Un Mom another blogger I wish I had more time in the day to read more regularly. I need some blog fiber.

Happy Tuesday!

Music Memory Monday

Now those of you that read my blog, or skim it, or just google the word Sarah, will someday figure out that I am a huge John Denver fan. Yeah I realize it's not that great for my street cred, even though I am pretty sure me claiming to have street cred takes my street cred down a couple of notches but I digress. I have loved him since I was a kid and saw him on The Muppet Show and fell hard for his mop hair and round glasses and his far out and groovy vernacular.

My screen name Everywhere is jdrules23, (even though I am 32 but I feel 23 and that is when I actually got a email address.Yeah whatever so I was behind the times). To further my street cred cred, if anyone asks me what it means I am not above lying to the cool kids and saying it stands for Jack Daniels, which ironically I am betting ole JD (John Denver) liked too in his day. The difference between him and I is that I don't drink Jack and Coke and then go and try and fly a homemade airplane... there was that one time I crashed my boyfriends model airplane, but that was vodka and cranberry juice, so really not the same.

When I was a Freshman in high school I was very very involved in my church's youth group. I was the only Freshman to earn the distinguished title of President in the youth groups whole history of elections. (Granted the elections had only been taking place for a year before I got there but really its all in the way you spin the story no?) Back then I had the kind of blind faith I am so envious of now. I would probably think they were full of shit and naive now. Back then,I was a great tribute to all things holy. My church worked with the local University and would go and do Bible Studies for college students and in turn ask for college students to come and help out with the Sunday night Youth Group meetings. Now being a 15 year old girl I was all for the hot college guys to come and help out, but really we mostly got girls.

The one boy/man that came and helped out for two years was named Jim. He was cute and smart and involved in the ROTC program that they used to offer and I lived right on campus practically so they would come and run by my house and I would join them on their excruciatingly long runs, pretending I was in shape and trying desperately to hide the fact that I felt like I was going to pass out. Since I was only 15 at the time I didn't drive (legally, another post) so Jim offered most Sundays to take me to the meetings and then back home again. Well really that's all I needed to fall helplessly in love with him and dream that I would one day be his wife, or lover. I mean just cause I believed in God back then didn't mean I was above letting the cute older boy feel me up. I mean it was in a church parking lot so that had to make it somewhat OK right? Yeah I thought so too.

Wow really long way a round to get to the point of this video huh?

So......as I waited for Jim to come and pick me up in his old blue Ford I would crank up This Ole Guitar and dance around my living room pretending Jim was singing that to me. Ahhh the naviety of youth. I miss being that stupid.

When school ended for the Summer Jim left and our "relatonship" ended. Turns out he left to go back to Indiana to be near his fiance coincidentally named Sarah. Yeah I am still nursing that wound. But Jack Daniels helps and so does John Denver!

Happy Monday!

For Music Memories check out Diane and Jori!