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sleepslikeapples
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Name: Sarah Location: Nashville, Tennessee, United States
Interests: I like weird conversational pauses, the lexicon, old things, reading, music, libraries, art
Message: message me
Member Since:
9/6/2005
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| I have been getting the most intense and strangely interesting spam e-mails. Like this one: "Guten Tag, Brahmanas. This conduct is cleansing and excellent. That seemed to prevail both within and without large feet, large hips, a large waist, and large i was, died from a fall from his horse, his children must have towered between twenty and thirty feet battlefield i'll start home tomorrow! Which shows gent. 'tis all i dare do, madam but the king will him. Senior's teeth chattered, and he looked blue bates 4, chase 2, claynew jersey, daytonpennsylvania, that might be crushed like a rose leaf. There." I mean really, is my spam being written by the ghost of Jack Kerouac? The more I read it the more it seems to mean something. Oh my. | | |
| So lately much of my day is spent in front of a computer. On this computer I do a variety of things. I do work things. This includes logging rent checks, looking up tenants and properties, typing stuff (sometimes) and then printing stuff (sometimes). I also do many many non-work things. This includes gchatting, setting up excel spreadsheets to chart the movies I see and books I read (I shit you not about this one), reading Onion articles, reading the NYT, feeling awkward on Myspace and trolling Facebook. I also read inane amounts of celebrity gossip (Jamie-Lynn Spears? preggers? must be that Kentwood water). Sometimes I do read books, you know, sheets of paper in between two sheets of much thicker paper. But this is rare as it keeps my fingers at some distance from the keyboard, thereby making gmail chatting an arduous exercise in communicating. You know, pick book up, put book down, pick book up, try to type while still holding book, get frustrated, type like this (wenl!rkah,sd86lfylug) put book down, lose page, head explodes. This sort of had a point, but then I got distracted. Oh gosh, I must have seen something shiny that I wanted to add to my nest or something. Crap. Sorry. Thank goodness only like two people read this now. I think this entry would be enough for the CIA to start a Sarah Szpak file. | | |
| There are no events but thoughts and the heart's hard turning, the heart's slow learning where to love and whom. The rest is merely gossip, and tales for other times. -Annie Dillard | | |
| The Coming of Light by Mark Strand
Even this late it happens:
the coming of love, the coming of light.
You wake and the candles are lit as if by themselves,
stars gather, dreams pour into your pillows,
sending up warm bouquets of air.
Even this late the bones of the body shine
and tomorrow's dust flares into breath.
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| I don't think I ever realized how easily my mood is influenced by the weather. Rainy/drizzly + being at work = sad Rainy/drizzly + being at home = happy, or possibly even better than that, comforted Sunny/crisp/fall-ish + being at work = antsypants/happy Sunny/crisp/fall-ish + being at home = clean/busy Emotional math, I could go on forever. If only calculus had been this heart-warming. Speaking of other numerical happenings, I went to the library last night and saw that I had 15 books on the reserve shelf. Sarah Szpak all along the shelf. That's probably as close as I'll get to seeing my name on a book. So I packed them up in my crazy-lady grocery bags (you know, with one corner about to break and the other handle broken) and made awkward conversation with the awkward librarians. I think I have reached a point that is beyond mere quirkiness. | | |
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