Randomness that is Sarah

I’m not entirely sure why I’m starting a blog. I don’t even like the way it sounds. Blogs seem trendy. I don’t do trendy. I do, however email my friends multiple times a day, so I guess those feel like blogs..So why not make it official and share the randomness that is Sarah?

I don’t have an exciting life, so I won’t bore you with those details. No kids, so I can’t smother you with tidbits and cute stories you’d rather not hear. I have 2 cats. Tigger and Gatsby. I won’t tell you too many stories about them, either. Someday maybe I’ll share the accounts of how Gatsby set himself on fire 3 separate times. (We were close to #4 when he decided to chill next to the hot iron) But my poor parenting skills are not for this blog. I assumed cats were like plants, only the cats are more vocal about needing nourishment. My plants just silently wither and wilt in slow agony. But with cats, the owner is the one in agony. Why can’t they just let me sleep? What do they have against me being the one who is horizontal? Jealousy. That must be it.

I’ve always enjoyed writing. So much so that my friend Kelley and I took a creative writing class in high school together. We didn’t know what to expect. We certainly weren’t expecting that brooding young man to walk through the classroom door, late, of course. He had that “I’m indie/alternative and like to write poetry and be mysterious and wear dark clothing and keep to myself” look. She and I turned to each other with raised eyebrows and smirks on our faces. We knew what the other was thinking: “This class is looking up!” I believe he talked to me one time. It was on picture day. I was wearing my U2 Achtung Baby concert t-shirt. “You like U2, Sarah?” I’m sure I beamed at him with my braced teeth and uttered some positive response, unable to keep the conversation going. I was awkward in high school. Kelley was impressed. I also had horrible perm at that time. The day after I committed this unspeakable act, Kelley came over to try to help me undo the damage. We washed my hair over and over, trying to relax the poodle curls to no avail. I do blame her for starting me on the path of hair experiments. That’s another blog for another time.