From my womb to my tombI guess I'll only be a child
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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Thursday, December 20, 2007

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. 

 


Wednesday, December 19, 2007

Currently Reading
The Collected Stories of Amy Hempel
By Amy Hempel
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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. 


Wednesday, December 12, 2007

Currently Reading
Into the Wild (MTI)
By Jon Krakauer
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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


Sunday, December 09, 2007

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.


Friday, December 07, 2007

Currently Reading
Things You Should Know: A Collection of Stories
By A. M. Homes
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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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