A few of you may have noticed that things look a little different around here again.

That’s because the good stuff has moved over to Sarahndipitea.

It’s mostly explained there.

Follow me if you want. Otherwise, no hard feelings.

Just recently my life has taken a weird turn. Part of the rerouting has been a good thing, and part of it has been uhm, not so good. Part of the not-so-good has been my own fault, and I’ve got to get back onto that good path. As fun as the not-so-good path has been, my knee (and the back of my left arm) are showing signs of the blackberry brambles. I seem to follow a yearly pattern – and about this time of year, every year for a while now, I’ve stumbled. I’ve cracked my knee on a few too many bar tables and I’m paying for it. One foot in front of the other.

On another note, this weekend is going to be really low-key, which I really need. I’m having an entire mental health weekend, I guess.

Tomorrow I plan on sleeping as late as I want, showering eventually, cleaning off my desk/organizing a ton of paperwork, condensing from six drawers (of nonsense) to four, cleaning up the bags that are all over my bedroom floor (all my backpacks/purses have been having a conference at the foot of my bed for like two weeks now!), making guacamole, going to a friend’s house and letting someone else feed and water me while I enjoy myself. (Unfortunatley there will be fireworks, which make me anxious, but I don’t have to stay for those. I keep reminding myself of that.) Sunday I have some writing to do. That’s all I have on the agendy for Sunday, because the week ahead of me is going to be hell.

Next week, my direct supervisor will be gone. She’s taking an entire week of vacation and told me in a meeting today “you are me next week.” That’s a huge responsibility, and I’ve since learned it’s a litmus test of sorts. I’ll know more in a couple of weeks, but next week is very important for me. I may password protect a more detailed post, but for now I get to be the crypt-keeper about it.

I’ve been branching out music-wise lately. Been obsessed with the Adele album (19) as well as the latest Kings of Leon album (Only By the Night). I could listen to Adele’s cover of Make You Feel My Love for an hour straight and not tire of it so I feel it absolutely necessary to share it before I go back to cleaning something.

My bathtub-snuggling friend MissHeathyrm gave me a piece of blog bling (try and say that ten times fast!) today and so I have to post it and then pass it on, but I’m feeling really stuck with it … because I really have nothing to share.

You’re supposed to take a picture of keepsake and then write about it … but the two keepsakes I had in life are both gone now, so I have nothing to take a picture of. It makes me feel like I’m missing part of my life that all girls seem to keep. I rarely hold on to anything, and so even when there are intenses memories attached to a certain something, I don’t feel the need to hold on to it.

Sally was a soft stuffed doll with long braided pig tails and a navy blue polka-dotted dress I had until middle school. I don’t know where I got her or what happened to her, but she went everywhere with me until she didn’t.

Barnaby was a gift from ThEx. Well, kinda. The second Christmas we were dating, I was supposed to volunteer at the homeless shelter, but got so violently ill (I still refuse to eat green bean casserole because of this!) I couldn’t go. I was devastated – I was all about volunteering in high school. ThEx went in my place and they gave out these super-soft stuffed bears to each volunteer. He gave me the one that I would have received. For the following eight years, Barnaby did everything with me. (ThEx totally hated that he even slept in the bed with us.) Last year I took Barnaby to my parents house and we lit him on fire. That was fun.

Instead of a picture of Sally or Barnaby, I have a list of things that I hope to pass on as keepsakes. Hopefully I have a child with more of a sentimental heart than me. Damn my practicality.

1. Grams’ cooking suit – when Grams died the only thing I asked for was her fancy cooking suit. A custom-made apron for her cooking adventures now hangs in my closet, and I cannot bring myself to wear it. When I give it to my daughter, or daughter-in-law, I will sew a piece of my own custom made cooking suit (thank you Bean) into the pocket of Grams’.
2. Grams’ favorite handkerchief – when Grams was working she would tie her hair back in pretty handkercheifs. When Gramps gave them all to my mom and my mom let my sister and I pick through them, I picked the most worn, torn, raggedy one, because that’s the one I remember her wearing. My sister thought I was crazy. I dont’ think she realizes how Grams shaped who I am today.
3. Part of my wedding dress – my currently non-existant wedding dress, but I will save part of it to pass to my daughter or daughter-in-law. I think it’d be romantic to sew a part of my mom’s & my husband’s mom’s wedding dress into mine. Too bad my mom got rid of her wedding dress DECADES ago. I’ll wear her wedding shoes (black peep toe pumps!) to my wedding if I ever remarry.
4. A set of $300 pearl/diamond earrings & necklace – these will go to my “niece” when she graduates from high school. ThEx gave them to me as my first gift (the necklace) and my wedding gift (the earrings) and while I think they are gorgeous, they have so many memories attached to them, I seldoml wear them and since he’s still her real uncle, she can have them.
5. Sterling silver napkin rings – Grams gave me a set in 2003 and while I have never used them (who uses napkin rings?) they are special to me because she gave them to me. (I am totally sensing a trend, here.)
6. My book – it’s been in the process for three years now. One day it’ll be done. Hopefully.

So, I’m supposed to pass this on to three bloggers who are then supposed to share their own keepsakes with their readers. Since I took the liberty of changing things up, feel free to do the same!

• Ewokmama – you can’t count the Little Man as your keepsake. I’m keeping him. :)
• ChelleBelle – I’m keeping my neices, too. AuntieSarah from California’s Funny Hat would love to steal them away.
• Beauty School Drop-out – I’m going to start a sweatshop with the children I’m keeping. Yours included. Love you.

Dear Jillian Michaels,
My arms hate you. So does my ass, in fact. Also, if you put out another DVD, could you pick better music? I hate the stuff you’re using now.
Love to hate you,
Sarah

Dear Bank-I-Work-For,
I’d like a raise. In fact, I’d like another promotion, too. I have very little faith in your HR system and learning today that my ridiculous probation (remember, that, work? The RIDICULOUS probation you put me on the same day you gave me a raise AND a promotion?) doesn’t actually “end” until August 1st. So much for all the hard work I’ve put forth for this campaign. 18+ accounts doesn’t mean a damned thing to you apparently. I am losing my enthusiasm for my job. Something has to change soon. SRSLY.
Cannot wait until vacation,
Sarah

Dear Sweet Boy,
fkl;dsrlvcxm xzc.,dkl;lacx,m a;lkedb alkcm,.xcxz. That is all.
Thank you,
Mush Brain

Dear Mama,
Thank you for your random emails as of late. They are helping me get through my days. I haven’t explained everything to you (or anyone else for that matter) but they have become very important to me.
I love you,
Julie

Dear Wine,
I want you. Among other things, but right now, I’d like you to show up at my house. Maybe a nice Chateau St. Michelle Pinot Gris or a Folie a Deux Cab Sav. You can knock nicely on the door. I’ll spoon with you!
Could relax with you,
Sarah

Shell,
You’re going to be cutting my hair on Saturday. I have two options in my head right now. This one or this one. I love the idea of having the hair up off my neck but also know that it’s taken me a freakin’ long time to get it this long. I’m torn. I hope you are prepared to listen to my insanity surrounding my hair.
Split ended,
Sarah

Dear Life,
Can you slow down for about three days. Maybe until like Sunday afternoon? Please? Also, can you be 80* and breezy on Saturday between 11am and 2pm? I plan on putting on a swimsuit for the first time all season.
Love,
Sarah

I’ve been obsessing over a few things lately … it’s kinda interesting to be able to recognize the obsessions without someone pointing them out to me. My how the years have changed me … strangely enough, recognizing doesn’t seem to lessen the obsession much.

• Clean sheets – I think I’ve washed my sheets a half-dozen times since I got my washer & dryer. No joke. I love having clean sheets and being able to wash them whenever I want has a) helped my allergies, b) made me want to shave my legs more often.
• Be OK – Ingrid Michaelson’s latest album – there is not a song on the album that I don’t like. I have listened to it while working out, while showering, while cleaning my house, while going to sleep … essentially all.the.freaking.time. It is an amazing CD for the point my life is at right now.
• Organizing/de-cluttering – I spent four hours this morning going through every drawer and shelf in my bedroom, hallway (I have built-ins), bathroom and living room decluttering. I took so much “junk” out to the dumpster and I will be making a Goodwill trip tomorrow with the other piles of stuff. It’s kinda crazy. I’m not a clutter bug and I’m not a packrat so I really don’t understand where all this stuff is coming from. Guess I need to go back to the “one thing in, two things out” rule I used to live by. Tomorrow I’m going to tackle my desk & paperwork that’s scattered all over it. Eventually I’ll have someone help me move the TV and go through the hope chest to clean that out, too.
• Graham crackers – this is going to sound disgusting, but I’ve calculated it out and it’s not, but I’ve eaten 2/3 of a box of Graham crackers in a week. I took a package to @saramd and @bxd when they were at the hospital but otherwise, I finished the rest of the box myself. I don’t normally like graham crackers that much, but dang.
• The Iranian election – I finally had to unfollow some people on Twitter because their Tweets were making me so upset I and I was getting anxious about the situation. My friend ChelleBelle wrote pretty much how I’m feeling about the situation on her blog so I won’t rehash it (also for fear that it’ll agitate me further).

Anna Nalick – Breathe (2am)

2 AM and she calls me ’cause I’m still awake,
“Can you help me unravel my latest mistake?,
I don’t love him. Winter just wasn’t my season”
Yeah we walk through the doors, so accusing their eyes
Like they have any right at all to criticize,
Hypocrites. You’re all here for the very same reason

‘Cause you can’t jump the track, we’re like cars on a cable
And life’s like an hourglass, glued to the table
No one can find the rewind button, girl.
So cradle your head in your hands
And breathe… just breathe,
Oh breathe, just breathe

May he turned 21 on the base at Fort Bliss
“Just a day” he said down to the flask in his fist,
“Ain’t been sober, since maybe October of last year.”
Here in town you can tell he’s been down for a while,
But, my God, it’s so beautiful when the boy smiles,
Wanna hold him. Maybe I’ll just sing about it.

Cause you can’t jump the track, we’re like cars on a cable,
And life’s like an hourglass, glued to the table.
No one can find the rewind button, boys,
So cradle your head in your hands,
And breathe… just breathe,
Oh breathe, just breathe

There’s a light at each end of this tunnel,
You shout ’cause you’re just as far in as you’ll ever be out
And these mistakes you’ve made, you’ll just make them again
If you only try turning around.

2 AM and I’m still awake, writing a song
If I get it all down on paper, it’s no longer inside of me,
Threatening the life it belongs to
And I feel like I’m naked in front of the crowd
Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud
And I know that you’ll use them, however you want to

But you can’t jump the track, we’re like cars on a cable,
And life’s like an hourglass, glued to the table
No one can find the rewind button now
Sing it if you understand.
and breathe, just breathe
woah breathe, just breathe,
Oh breathe, just breathe,
Oh breathe, just breathe.

I am having serious shoe lust. I want some new super-heels. Comfy, super tall, sexy-but-work-appropriate super-heels.

Like any of the following … and yes, I see the trend, too.

I can literally count the number of people I don’t get along with on one hand. ONE HAND. I like everyone. I don’t have enemies, I forgive, move on and get over things. (I never forget.) Today, I debated adding a person to my list of people … ‘cept it would make it TWO hands … so I’m giving it another month before I do it.

Three weeks ago I got a new co-teller. She works part-time (MWF) and only 20 hours a week at that. She has been in banking one year. She is 23 years old. New co-teller is a large girl … who wears clothes that do not fit. They are almost obscene. I have seen more of her shape than I consider normal for anyone I’m not having sex with. She has more than a muffin top … she has a muffin middle and a muffin bottom. Her name? Muffin. Muffin has no work “filter”. To her, everything is appropriate work conversation. Painting a bedroom naked from the waist down? Work conversation. Drinking too much regularly and dancing randomly in front of strangers? Work conversation. Asking me prying questions about my dating life? Work conversation. I don’t deal well with conversations like this, without really knowing a person. I know my bosses very well, but there are still things I don’t tell them.

Today, I almost punched Muffin. Our bank does “cookie Friday” … wherein the staff eats most of the cookies we put out for customers. I rarely partake – I’ve been very careful about what I put in my mouth lately (oh that sounds bad) … but today I decided I’d have one. They smelled VERY good. Halfway through my tasty chocolate chip cookie, Muffin looks at me and says “are you sure you need to be eating that?” Muffin, the girl two inches shorter and at least fifty pounds heavier than me, asked me if I should be eating a fucking cookie. Instead of getting angry at her, I stuffed the rest of the cookie in my mouth and just smiled at her. That’s when the Tweets started. The text messages to the Sweet Boy also started.

There are three women in my life who are allowed to mention my eating habits or my weight in front of me. Mrs. Pants, the Admiral and my mother; all other friends are shit out of luck. Muffin is not allowed to talk about my eating habits or my weight. NOT ALLOWED. After I got back from lunch she quizzed me on what I ate. I almost socked her right there. NOT APPROPRIATE. I think she got the point when I started ignoring her. I couldn’t do anything else. I moved on.

Until 4:55pm.

On days we use the vault, as the vault teller (oh, yeah, I’m also the ATM teller now … because I can’t do enough stuff at work) I close my window at 4:45pm. I always ask whoever I’m telling with “do you have enough cash to get you through the rest of the day.” Muffin proudly proclaims “yup, got enough. No worries!” and I begin closing up. I balance my drawer, I balance the vault and I shut down the computer. Just as my computer tells me “installing update 2 of 6″ Muffin looks over at me, mid-transaction and says “I don’t have enough change!” I almost shat myself. She had FIVE people in line (no matter the busiest time I’ve been, max I have had was three. Work faster, girl.) and didn’t have enough change.

Not only did I have to do a hard restart of my system, log back into Teller, sell her $2000+ in large and nickle rolls and then help two of her five customers. I ended the day with less than $200o in my drawer (which is totally unheard of for me) and frustrated beyond belief becuase TEN MINUTES BEFORE she had told me she had enough. I left work late today because of her … and on Friday … that’s NOT what I wanted. She copped an attitude with me as I was leaving and I walked out without saying goodbye.

I spent the drive between work & home deep breathing with the radio off. Now I sit with my favorite ass-hugging stretchy pants and my favorite 9-year-old Oregon State sweatshirt on watching Weeds. The Sweet Boy is out of town for the weekend but Admiral is around so we’re going to enjoy some quality bonding time eventually.

No, really. Nothing I want to say comes out right, so I’m keeping it all in. I can tell … I’m about <this> close to an emotional implosion.

Instead, I’ll leave you with a few pictures from my life lately.

Long-time (15+ years) friend Admiral is in town for a leadership conference. This woman knows more about me than any living soul, and most of it is locked away in the Sarah-vault. Wednesday night we headed out for beer and my stomach still hurts from laughing. I am damn lucky to have her in my life.

Cha Cha & I the night we randomly decided we needed to dance. Out at the Mediterranean bar … drinking coffee and Patron shots. We’re classy like that. (It wasn’t until I started looking through the pictures that I realized how low cut that shirt is. Damn!) Another person I’m damn lucky to have in my life.

I woke up with some intense bed head last week. I slept on pulled up, damp, wavy hair. I woke up to super-soft, shiny curls. If it hadn’t been DIRTY super-soft shiny curls I would have worn it to work. I don’t actually remember the last time I straightened my hair. It was over a week ago now. Blow-dryers & hair straighteners are for the motivated.

I keep going to write a meaningful post about some serious stuff that has been settling in the crevices of my brain but every time I go to write it, it comes out jumbled and senseless. In my head it all makes sense. On “paper,” however, it’s a mess still. I hate when this happens.

Instead, I’ll leave you with the song that I have heard at least a dozen times in less than that many hours.