Thursday, June 19, 2008

It's not every day someone gets kidnapped by a loaf of bread.

Cleaning up the office yesterday was awesome, because it gave me ample oppurtunity to meander down memory lane. Or you know, find random strange pictures of my grandmother hanging out in a bathtub.

I am full of that super excited butterfly feeling that goes hand in hand with AN IMPENDING ROAD TRIP!, aka, Jamie and I are rocking Vancouver Island this weekend. Like, off it's axis. Like, look out Island, here comes that huge earthquake everyone's been talking about for years... AND SHE'S WEARING CROCS.

I think I somehow kind of propelled that reference into a fat joke, but I'm kind of okay with that.

We're planning the trip tonight, in between making pizza and watching Be Kind Rewind.

(BBQ Chicken Pizza: 1 pizza shell, BBQ sauce, chicken (roasted), red peppers, green onions,

shredded cheddar cheese. Throw it all on the pizza shell, bake at 350 degrees, serve with salad and love.)

There is something about June that makes me want to listen to Lisa Loeb's "Tails" album over and over again.

I have had the weirdest dreams the past two nights. The first night, I dreamt I was kidnapped and taken away to a fantastical version of Japan ... by a loaf of bread. Last night, I dreamt that the Zombpocalypse had finally come, and I kept going through these reactionary scenarios, dying a horrible digestable death, and then restarting like a video game. I finally survived when I chose Tim Hortons as my hideout place. A few things about Tim Hortons: my entire family had just decided to grab some Timbits that day and were hanging out inside, and there was a transport truck attached to the front of it, allowing us to all drive into the backwoods and live out the rest of our days sleeping on uncomfortable seating and drinking tons of Iced Cappucinos. Strange.

Finally, another photo from today's random photoshoot, my great grandparents and their stuff. And, if you have time, check out me, my mullet and some fine indoor snow pants.

Labels: Musings, Photographs, Travels

posted by sarah, the pirate at 5:03 PM

4 Comments:

The Contrarian Reviewer said...: I heard this weird news story a couple of days ago that they keep finding *dismembered feet* washing up on the shore of Vancouver Island. So far they've found five rights and a left (I wonder if the left matched any of the rights?). Anyway, the point is, you two count your feet before you leave. You don't want to become a statistic, or lose a shoe.; June 20, 2008 11:18 AM
Amy Nieto said...: i recognize the fabric and paper!; June 21, 2008 1:05 AM
The Contrarian Reviewer said...: Update: the left one was a hoax.; June 21, 2008 4:33 AM
sarah, the pirate said...: yes amy!! that's the paper you sent me!! so pretty.

and... feet. creepy. i heard about the left foot hoax though! people are so weird.; June 23, 2008 11:33 AM

Post a Comment

<< Home

SYLVIA PLATH KNOWS ME. INSIDE.

"...I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out.

I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet." - Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar, Chapter 7