now, as ms. golightly was saying before she was so rudely interrupted...

Thanks, C-SPAN, for your totally random cut-away to Daniel Dae Kim during Al Gore's speech. That kind of made my night.

In other news, I love my sweatpants.

So I'm sitting on my desk in my BRAND NEW APARTMENT. Well, brand new as in, four or five years old. But it's still pretty sweet. Much better than the dorms ever were. And still on campus, which means (1) mommy and daddy still pay for it and (2) don't have to commute to school, which would suck. How did I ever do that in high school, seriously? College has spoiled me.

Anyway, I feel all growed up now, and that coupled with the fact that I'm never actually going home again to live (God, I love my parents, but that town is boring and I could never spend another summer there) feels super weird. Which means you're getting a semi-introspective journal entry from me which is more than just "OMGWTFDOMINICMONAGHAN'STESTICLES."*

THINGS THAT ARE AMAZING.
1. Four girls. Four bedrooms. Two bathrooms.
2. Full kitchen, sans dishwasher but still, compared to the dorm fridge and microwave we had last year?
3. The outlets are actually in normal places other than halfway up the wall WHAT.
4. I can leave my window open and no one will get cold!
5. We are totally right by the elevator, yes.
6. Also, just around the corner from the trash room and the laundry room.
7. This place rocks.

But I really am just going to go chill out now. I have until Thursday to get all settled and, y'know, actually unpack.

* Remember those days? Good times, good times.

I know I've been awful about updating, but I hope this makes up for it. To start off, an anecdote.

My project at the museum this summer has been re-typing newspaper columns written by the editor of one of the old local newspapers. Some are interesting, some are self-righteous, some are batshit insane. And then, once in a while, I get a column that starts out like this:

"We’ve come a long ways since “Johnny Appleseed.” Do you know how many lbs. of apples were produced commercially in the United States in 1967?"

OH GOD, KILL ME NOW.

Other notable events:

1. I won six dollars at the casino on Monday!

2. My brother's getting home today, big family wedding this weekend. It should be awesome.

3. Go see Pineapple Express.

4. Michael Phelps is amazing.

There, I think we're all caught up now. I'm going to try and write a little more often, yes?

So it's about 8:00 in the morning (don't ask why I'm up, I don't either) and I'm pretty sure I'm still drunk from the night before.

Worth it.

So I saw Mamma Mia! last night with my mamma mia (see what I did there?), and... it was... um... respectable. The movie itself... kind of... eh. But seeing Pierce Brosnan, Stellan Skarskgaard and Colin Firth trying to sing/dance/wear sparkley spandex suits was worth it. I'll tell you, though, my image of James Bond/that guy from King Arthur that was evil/Mr. Darcy is now forever tarnished. But in an awesome way.

Also, Meryl Streep is one fierce tranny bitch. I love her.

( So, the Dark Knight was legen... wait for it... )

FUCK YEAH, WE HAVE TICKETS TO THE DARK KNIGHT.

Cut for amusing Skype conversations.

( OMG I JUST POOPED MYSELF. )

It's not summer until you have all your friends over and you decide to blow up an old microwave with a combination of gasoline, Black Cat firecrackers, bottle rockets and Works bombs. And it's definitely not summer until you wake up the next morning feeling like you got a hangover, except you drank nothing but water last night and you trace it back to the noxious fumes emitting from the microwave. But at least it turned the fire a lot of pretty colors.

Now let's go blow some shit up.

Tonight I saw ( Wanted... )

So, obviously I haven't posted anything substantial here for a while, so I figured I'd sit down and catch all you fine people up on my life, because I know you've just been waiting on tenterhooks to find out what will happen in the next exciting episode of Sara: Museum Office Assisstant.

Currently, I'm at work. I had to get out some mailings for the threshing show today, and since that was the only thing written on my little "to-do list" I've been spending the rest of the day (and the rest of the month, really) re-reading my Little House on the Prairie books. I ate that shit up when I was little, seriously. I used to run around in a dress pretending to be Laura Ingalls and traveling west in a covered wagon. The adult read through is seriously just as exciting. If I weren't a bonafide adult now, I'd find myself a damn calico dress and pretend to be running from a cyclone or something.

The fun part is I never actually realized how incredibly racist these books are. But not racist in a bad way (which is hard, since, well, actually, all racism is bad), but more like how your grandparents are completely racist and you find it endearing because they grew up during the Depression and keep money in their underpants. And more like how my dad thinks Barack Obama hates white people and is a secret Muslim, but I just laugh and drop some sarcastic quote about how Dick Cheney drinks the blood of the innocent... after he waterboards them.

Anyway, I'm just starting the last one now, and it makes me kind of sad. Like my childhood is disappearing again. I also have all the Narnia books hanging around and I should really read them, but less because it would be nostalgic and more because I spent like, fifteen dollars on that boxed set and I probably read two of the books. Whatever. Almanzo Wilder is a stud.

Hannah got back from Sweden last week, thank God. I've been sharing my time between the basement and the museum lately, and it's been getting pretty pathetic. I had lunch with her on Tuesday and I counted all the things I had done since I got home from the summer. I won't go into any detail, but let's just say that I could count it on one hand. My God, I am so cool. Anyway, she came over last night and we watched Arrested Development, of which, by the way, the episodes are definitely funnier the sixth time around. We were both kind of quiet for a while because, wow, Hannah is my friend but I don't think we've hung out as just her and me since we were eight (probably playing Little House on the Prairie), and it was weird with no one else there. But it didn't take long for us to revert to our favorite hobby, looking through old yearbooks and trash-talking our former classmates. Good times, great oldies.

Tonight Dora and I will be partaking in our town's festivities. I don't know if this happens at all outside Minnesota, but basically every small town here has some sort of celebration in the summer, and there are literally parades and shit every weekend, which is why marching band used to suck so bad. This weekend is our town's turn, and the population has seriously doubled and I can't believe I never noticed before. I've been so used to driving into town and not meeting a single car that it seriously weirds me out now that I pass like, four or five. Anyway, we're going to the rodeo because there's nothing else to do, and probably to the street dance afterward. I don't know how long we'll stay there. No one actually dances at the street dance. Mostly, they just drink. Which kind of makes it awkward for us because we can't get into the beer gardens and the only other thing to do is run into former classmates and I don't know if you got the hint from the last paragraph, but it's more awkward than fun. I honestly think I'm starting to look down on these people. I am a total snob. And kind of loving it.

So, yes. I pretend to hate this town, and I kind of do sometimes, because there's nothing to do and it's pathetic, but you have to admit, there's something charming about people drinking and going to the rodeo. It's very quaint. Maybe if we're lucky we'll get together with Tabatha or something at the end of the night and she can buy us some liquor, because nothing is more small-town than getting absolutely trashed. I am turning into a total drunk snob. You people must hate that I'm changing so much, but here's the thing: I'm still reading Little House on the Prairie, so I can't be that bad, right?

Also, I've started trying to drink more water and oh my God, do I really have to pee again? The answer is yes.

Barack Obama's Vagina: The October Surprise In His Pants

I'm starting to realize that this journal has mostly consisted of the Daily Show/Colbert Report quotes lately. And I'm okay with that.

The lady on The Colbert Report right now has a seriously thick Minnesotan accent.

So I'm at work and going through the guestbook for reasons that I don't feel like explaining, and I found this jewel of an entry. A couple from Arizona visited back in 2006, and this is what the husband wrote under "Where did you hear about us?":

"Wife was here w/ second Husband. I'm the third."

Word for word. I about died.

"WARREN G. HARDING WAS A NEGRO."

I love The Colbert Report.

Dear Vodka,

You are delicious. Especially when mixed with rhubarb slush. Rhubarb slush that I put more vodka into than pop. I just thought you should know that.

Love,
Me

Barack Obama needs only five more delegates to clinch the democratic nomination.

WHY AM I NOT AT THE XCEL CENTER TONIGHT? Dammit.

It's 1986 Bowie from the movie Labyrinth!

Florida, Michigan get all delegates, but each gets half vote. Isn't this the same as just... seating half the delegates?

In other news, Ryan sent me the first season of Flight of the Conchords for my birthday. Best. Present. Ever.

( Lost! as it happens )