practicing the creation of situations.

the third issue of the real shotgunwedding paper-blog has been in its conception stages for closing in on a year now. now that i'm a week away from dedicating substantial time to it, i've been glancing over the stuff i've written for it. i've written 3 different introductions, one failed poem, 2 short short stories, a handful of drawn-out anecdotes, and taken 27 zine-specific pictures. i don't think i'm going to use any of it. but it's strange to look over the things that i chose to document and the themes i wanted to focus on. last summer, i think i was way too happy to want to publish sw #3. there were too many fun, sweaty things happening and for once, i didn't think about how they would translate onto a page. by winter i was confused and miserable and injured. the idea of working on my zine with my right arm strapped into an orthopedic brace seemed like more of a chore, so even though i was all full of thoughts i wasn't interested in writing them down. not to mention the idea of cutting and pasting with one hand (and my left one at that) seemed like the most implausible thing ever.

now here i am, and the weather is warm again. i've taken my last class ever. by friday i will have taken my last exam ever, written my last collegiate paper ever, smoked my last cigarette on the porch of combs, eaten at seacobeck for the last time, biked recklessly and helmet-less one final time down campus walk, among other lasts. and then what do i do? i have no place to live after june and no real desire to stay here any more. however, i have a great job, wonderful friends, and my love for the only little town i've ever really made mine. westminster was just where my parents lived; fredericksburg was my home because i wanted it to be. so i'm here, placeless and confused, my whole body wanting to drift but finding that i have one stubborn hand that won't let go. i should be careful; i'm prone to dislocating shoulders.

i can't make decisions for myself very well, but i will say that in the midst of my life's-next-chapter ruminations, i'm publishing #3 for real this time. i've got stories and the right attitude to tell them this time. so around june, look for my zine on parcellpress.com. look for my body to be stumbling around awkwardly and slightly drunk somewhere in the world, just hanging out and pretty good.

a personally applicable french propaganda slogan

je prends mes désires pour la réalité car je crois en la réalité de mes désires.

(i take my desires for reality because i believe in the reality of my desires)

-graffiti on the wall of the occupied sorbonne, may '68

a positive note

in this time of great stress and transition, sometimes i need to be reminded of the things that make me happy. here are a few, in no particular order:

1. beer/alcohol in general (maybe it's not real happiness, but it's good enough)

2. having some of the most awesome friends in the world.

3. the weather.

4. long messages and mixtapes from a new friend.

5. remembering some great times over my last four years in this town.

6. sid

7. carbohydrates of all kinds.

8. sexy new shoes. apparently, i'm the impulsive shoe-buying type.

9. summer being only a few weeks away.

10. slither

from the new face at hyperion espresso

sweeping dried leaves from the curb of william st before the sun rises is surreal. there aren't any cars on the road and the lights at the intersection of william and princess anne still blink red red and yellow yellow. when i'm walking in, i hear the church clock chime six times. i can kind of see the sun starting to come up down by the river; the sky turns that hazy blue while i'm setting up the tables outside.

i scatter some ashtrays on tabletops, set out water for the downtown dogs, and think about how everyone i know is still sleeping, or stumbling drunk with some boy or some girl to bed finally to play out a long night of smiling and innuendo.

the sun comes up about 20 minutes before 7, and by the time the morning commuters line up for their drinks (tall skim latte to go, venti mocca java, grande organic mocha no whipped cream extra shot of espresso and a shot of sugar free caramel, poppy seed bagel with no cream cheese and can you warm that up? and so on etc.) it comes through the top 2nd left pane in the window in a straight beam directly at my eyes. sorry i'm squinting. hi, i'm sarah. i'm new. i'm still trying to learn how to be a barista-robot.

the hardest part about working at the coffee shop in town is feeling like you're entering a secret club. everyone already knows everyone else on both sides of the counter, and for my first week, it was jarring for both parties when a new face same sidling up to the register in the morning.

oh, that's so-and-so, jerry says. she always gets a grande wet cappucino. don't bother writing it down, i've already got it.

hi so-and-so. i'm sarah. i'll have forgotten yr face by the time yr milk's done steaming. also, i haven't seen the business side of 6 am since... perhaps ever. let's all cut each other some slack.

there are so many things to remember at work that one must distill everything into repetitive motions. i'm too busy to know how tired i am. once i stop, i feel like a zombie. i drag my sore exhausted body to my car (i'm sorry, i'm not used to this hour of the morning enough to bike yet), sit down, and wonder how i didn't collapse 2 hours ago. then i come home and crash and have tortured dreams about writing tickets for complicated drinks. i truly believe that i was murmuring drink orders during my nap this afternoon. i wouldn't be surprised; i've been told that i talk in my sleep sometimes. i wish someone could hear me.

sure, venti sumatra. would you like room for cream?
alright, short mocha. do you want whipped cream on that?
snore.

it's 9:30 pm and i think i'm going to go to bed soon. i kind of like it.

surprise!

i just won $100 for 1st place in the underground's poetry slam.

hot damn. i'm really excited.

also, ghostface killah's fishscale is probably one of the best overall albums i've heard in a very long time. every track is hot, and it's almost too good.

the final installment

this shit happened almost a month ago; it's about time to let my memories just be things that swim around in my brain while i'm falling asleep or dazed on benches during awesome fredericksburg spring days.

i wish i didn't have such a solid memory for insignificant little things. those are the things that i miss the most.

here's a bulleted list of my final weekend in edinburgh:
-the edinburgh zoo. they have the uk's only koala bears, a plethora of penguins, and some generally sweet animals across the board.
-pubs on weekends are stupid and expensive, but it helps to have good company and a decent buzz on.
-hanging out and pretty good in a different latitude.
-my camera battery died.
-i went to edinburgh castle in the bitter cold and snow. there was a point where i stopped being able to feel my extremities. it cost way too much, but was pretty impressive. the scenery was gorgeous and i almost had a heart attack when they fired the one o'clock cannon right behind me when i wasn't paying attention.
-i ate fish & chips and drank a a few more pints.
-went to the movies again and saw the proposition (nick cave's new movie). it was nice and bloody; unfortunately i missed the establishment of the plotline on account of i fell asleep in for the first 15 minutes.
-i spent one more day walking around alone feeding my music into my ears (scotland walking playlist: junior boys - last exit, and the velvet teen - elysium) and taking in all the stuff i could. i bought a coaster featuring a man's bare ass, exposed by the wind blowing under his kilt.
-we watched a lot of arrested development on tom's computer while laying around being lazy and hedonistic. we're pretty good at that.
-i kissed it all goodbye and got on a plane back to the states. when i landed in baltimore, it was 82 degrees. i peeled off all my cold-weather layers and ran back to fredericksburg in the sun.

i've been infected by the need to travel constantly. i'm sitting still and twitching from excitement at wondering what i'm missing in the world. i have a passport and a bohemian ambition and i have to go.

i shouldn't stay attached to anything for too long.