Mem-Day weekend, aka: SHE & HIM!

If there is one thing I absolutely love to do, it is go to concerts. I will travel great distances to go to a concert. Hungover, sick, tired, cranky, angry, angsty, sad, whatever. It is nothing good music cannot cure.

Sunday, a group of us packed up in my car and drove the 320 miles to Bend, Oregon for the She & Him concert. For those who may be unfamiliar with She & Him, this amazing duet is the product of the whimsical combination of M. Ward and Zooey Deschanel. See video below.



Total feelgood music. AND I can dance to it. Sweet.

So road-trip + concert = Sunday was an absolutely amazing day. Aside from the fact that maybe I had a little too much fun Saturday night, making Sunday morning at 8:00 a.m. feel almost like a swift kick in the stomach, I rallied (and drove). Katie, her sister Sarah and her friend Rachel met at my house and we headed on our way, very, very early.

Anyone that knows me knows that when I'm driving someplace, I do NOT stop for bathroom breaks. I hate stopping. I've held it for hours on end. I attribute my awesome bladder to never wanting to "break the seal" at parties. This, though, does not work well when people have to pee all the time (okay, once on the way there, but still). Now if we hadn't stopped, however, I would not have been privy to the awesomeness that was the free museum outside of Burns, Oregon. Please revel in the following pictures.







I'm pretty convinced this doll is possessed. Remember that episode (Chinga) of The X-Files with the extremely creepy doll? I just kept imagining my hair getting caught in a nearby milkshake machine.

There was also this sign in the bathroom, which could be one of the more perplexing things I've seen:



Do they mean to say don't stand on the toilet seat or if you're going to stand to pee, lift up the toilet seat? How does a woman stand and pee? How do you aim? Do you hoist one leg up on the sink? And how is this preferable to sitting or squatting? There are so many unanswered questions!!!

So back on the road, the weather was beautiful. Blue skies, some clouds, gorgeous landscapes. We rolled into Bend and it was a balmy 78 degrees, which made me oh-so-happy considering the weather in Boise has been anything but summer-like for the past few weeks. We went to this Italian restaurant to eat near the Ampitheater, and that is when it started raining. It sputtered for a bit, then full on poured, then the sun came out. I was crossing my fingers that it would stay sunny since I was in a super-cute sundress from Anthro and only had a cardigan to protect me from the pouring rains. Apparently finger-crossing did not work.

Before we went to the show, we loaded up on alcohol and badminton ($5 at Rite Aid). This turned out to be a worthwhile investment as we ended up waiting in line outside the ampitheater for a good hour. Dear Ticketweb: when you say "5:00" on your ticket, please clarify if that means the doors open at 5:00 or the concert starts at 5:00. OK? Thanks. Because as much fun as it was to listen to the woman behind me talk about her friend who was having an affair in her horrific southern accent, I would have much rather been inside...drinking...

When we were finally allowed inside, we set up our blankets in the grass and chilled for a bit. There was an opening band for She & Him and Band of Horses called Dawes. And they sucked. I'm just going to say it. Their harmonizing was terrible and it reminded me of the sounds the alley cats make when they fight outside my house. The only good thing was the drummer. He had the most amazing Jew-fro and looked like he was puking whe he played the drums. No, seriously. He made the retching face. I couldn't stop laughing. What a tool. You are not bad ass, buddy.

Neither here nor there. Let's get to the awesome part: SHE & HIM!

They were amazing. That is all I have to say. Despite the fact that it was pouring rain, despite the fact that all these hipster-wannabe-stoned assholes kept shoving their way forward, despite (or yay?) that there was weed being smoked like we were at a freaking Willie Nelson concert, they were simply fantastic. Here are a few pics of my new girlfriend, Zooey (and I should clarify I use the term girlfriend loosely since she is married. We're more of a weekend thing...kidding! Sort of).







Seriously? Could she be any cuter? I don't think so. And get this--she TOTALLY dances like me (if you consider jumping around, arms up in the air, looking like a 6-year-old with ADHD dancing). So much love. They played a full set, which included all the songs I absolutely love, and I really could not ask for any more.

The band that came on after She & Him I was not particularly interested in. I think they were called Band of Horses, and they seemed to be the band that everyone was there to see. They were all right. Not really my cup of tea, which is probably why I took a nap. Or at least rested my eyes. There is not a whole lot of sleeping that can be had at a concert like that.

We decided not to stay the night in Bend and drive back to Boise after the concert. While I'm glad we did, because it gave me all day Monday to collect my thoughts, driving six hours back to Boise leaving at 11:00 p.m. does not do good things for one's sanity. Pretty sure I started hallucinating. Pretty sure. But I guess the great thing is cops aren't really too keen on staying out on Highway 20 at 3:00 in the morning to catch speeders. Sarah: 1, Oregon State Police: 0.

All in all, fantastic trip. I cannot wait to see them in concert again, and HIGHLY recommend this as a show you MUST see.

most definitely a worthy investment

I am officially in LOVE with Klean Kanteen water bottles (canisters?). I own probably three or four of them in varying sizes. They keep water cold, they are BPA free, there are a variety of colors and mouth-pieces, AND you can decorate the shit out of it.

Plus, it cuts down on the use of plastic bottles and other materials that just end up in landfills. That's my green sales-pitch for the day. Live it and love it.

I'm still laughing this morning

Follow this link. You'll thank me:

http://xkcd.com/436/

(How the fuck do you insert a link? This blogging thing is quite complicated).

I wish they all could be California girls...

I just got back today from Los Angeles. I freaking love that city. I love the noise, the people, the smell, the sights. I love that there is always something to do. I love that the beach is so close. I love the weather.

I wish I was moving there.

Don't get me wrong--I'm so excited to move to Germany. But part of me feels like I'm reaching a point in my life where I should be doing something more. I want to start my career. I want to start the rest of my life. *sigh* I want to settle down.

At the same time, I know that moving to Germany (and having Boise State pay for it) is a once-in-a-lifetime experience. And I would regret not going. Who knows. Maybe I'll fall in love or get a job offer and move there forever. I just have to remember that things are happening the way they are meant to happen. Everything will fall into place if I'm just patient and don't fuck things up too badly along the way.

So let's quit being serious.

Basically, this trip was a chance for me to get the fuck out of Boise. After the whirlwind week I had, I was soooo fucking ready for a break. There was far too much crying and people leaving and so much drama. I try to avoid the drama, but apparently little bitches have issues with growing the fuck up, so I do what any normal person does and I just leave. Last time I went to L.A., there was a lot I had to cram into a few days. This time, I was there for three days, and two of those three days I was going to use to lay on the beach. And that is precisely what I did. I usually turn my phone off when I go on vacation, because the whole point of a vacation is to relax. This is now something I need to work on. Apparently my connection to my phone is deeper than that of a mother to her child, and I could barely stand to be away from it for more than an hour. I need to go back to a foreign country where a) there is no cell phone service or b) if there is cell phone service, it's going to cost me my right leg to make a two-minute phone call. Fucking technology.

I got in Thursday afternoon and made a beeline for WeHo. I needed a salad and I figured what better place than West Hollywood to find a truly horrendously expensive salad. The thing I love about West Hollywood is all the gay men. It's the only place in the world, I'm betting, with so many shaved man legs and Pomeranians. You can't argue with that. If anything, people watching is fucking rad there. I ate at this cute little place called Tempered Greens (I think?) and went clothing shopping in some of the S&M shops. I then decided to head over to Redondo Beach. This place was amazing. I walked around the pier for a little while and then laid on the beach for the rest of the afternoon. So gorgeous.

Friday I went down to Venice Beach and laid out for a good four hours. Mind you, whitey-McWhiterson was wearing SPF 50 and I still managed to get sunburned. AWESOME.





There was some sort of freak windstorm in the middle of the afternoon, so I basically got sand in every possible crevice of my body. I'm still finding sand in my hair and ears. SICK.

I drove to Pasadena to check out apartments for my little sis since she will be moving there for school in September. I'm SO FUCKING JEALOUS that she gets to move there. I fell IN LOVE with that city. It's so cute. I'm definitely, definitely going to have to visit her when I get back to the states. I met my cousin and her fiance and friend from work at this fantastic place called Vertical Wine Bar. They had happy hour specials on Stella. So of course, I got myself all sorts of wasted. I'm so good at that. I also made friends with our waitress, Deborah, who happened to be a costume designer. She had some great life stories.

Oh, and should you ever visit Pasadena and figure that you don't need to pay the meter, FYI, it's a fucking $50 ticket. FUCK YOU, PASADENA!

I have GPS on my cell phone so I can figure out where the fuck I'm going when I'm on vacation. So imagine my surprise when my GPS failed me on my way from Pasadena to Chatsworth at around 10 o'clock at night. I have no idea where the fuck Pasadena is in relation to Chatsworth, nor do I know how to read a real map, so I was pretty much fucked. Thank GOD for Nicole, who got me at least to Chatsworth. Turns out Stella has an effect on my ability to recall addresses, and I'm pretty sure I transposed Des' house numbers, so I ended up in some business district of Chatsworth. Nicole had to hang up the phone because I was stressing her shit. I seem to do that a lot to people. I promise it's not panic in my voice--it's the gin talking! I forget there are people in this world who, unlike me, plan shit in advance. I tend to fly by the seat of my pants and hope for the best. This is probably going to get me in some serious fucking trouble somewhere down the line, but for now, it works for me. Eventually I made it home and passed out until it was time to hot tub at 12:30. Life was rough.

Saturday was Des' friend Dena's graduation party, so we got to dress up and I got to do what I do best--get completely shit-faced.



In my shit-faced state, I decided that yes, yes I DID want to get my belly-button pierced, so we loaded up in the car (we totally had a driver for the night--SWEET) and went to Studio City Tattoo before we met the party in WeHo. This is apparently the place where bat-shit-crazy Britney Spears went to get her piercings. I have a slight claim to fame.





Des took about 400 pictures of this whole process, but in most of them I look like I'm getting ready to cry or shit myself.

Here is the finished product:



Please ignore my incredibly white stomach.



Being sufficiently inebriated and now PIERCED, we headed down to the Abbey to meet the rest of the graduation party. I LOVED the Abbey. SO MANY GAY PEOPLE! And a lot of straight people. It was sort of like the Balcony, but with way more people and better music. NOT TO MENTION, HOT MEN DANCING ON BARS! I made friends with this dude, and Alice managed to take some very inappropriate pictures.





He was actually straight. At least that is what he said before he told me that he got off work at 1:00 and we should hang. Awesome dude. I would LOVE to hook up with the straight guy dancing on the bar at the gay dance club in a fucking speedo.

Speaking of which, ALICE CAME with her awesome girlfriend. I love visiting Alice. She makes me laugh.



I don't quite remember leaving the bar or anything that happened after that. I do remember having to wake up this morning at fucking 5:00 a.m. to catch my 8:30 flight back to Boise.

Point-of-order: should you decide that it would be a good idea to high-five the Homeland Security guard at LAX while showing off your new piercing and bragging about your "awesome hangover," I would recommend against it. I got searched. And so did my bag. Apparently terrorists also come in the form of 26-year-old drunk girls from Idaho.

I'm hoping I can make it down to L.A. one more time before I go to Germany. But I have some other trips I want to take (not to mention I'm going to Portland 900 times this summer), so it may just have to wait.

If I may be serious for a moment

I know one of the biggest issues I'm going to have with going to Germany is my horrible separation anxiety. I'm sure my inability to part with people is manifested in something much larger that I can't possibly comprehend, nor do I want to, but yeah, it pretty much sucks. I become a sobbing mess, sitting in my house alone drinking and watching shitty movies, and all because I can't stand to have people leave, or to leave other people. I have a habit of meeting truly extraordinary people when they are on their way out the door: last summer I met Des when she only had a weekend left in town. She had been here the entire summer, and granted, I was fortunate enough to at least meet her and get to hang out with her before she left, it sucked that she moved back to L.A. literally four days after we were randomly paired out in Hidden Springs. I'm so glad we still keep in touch, and I'm super, super excited to see her this weekend down in L.A. It is hard to find genuinely nice people in this world (especially people from southern California--sorry, it had to be said), but she could undoubtedly be one of the nicest people ever.

This whole blog is stemming from the fact that I'm sitting here crying because I have another friend moving back to Arizona tomorrow. Again, another random pairing put Nicole and I together (I had an extra ticket to the Ani concert, and since Dominique did not know who Ani was--really--and Nicole did and was even enthusiastic about the prospect of going to a concert only to be surrounded by lame-o hipster douches and big, butchy lesbians, I asked her if she wanted to go). I knew the second I met Nicole, just as I have with all my other best friends, that we were going to get along marvelously. I don't just click with anyone; people that have been my friend know that I have a very difficult personality. It's not that I'm mistrusting of anyone, but I've been burned by so many asshats that it's just not worth it for me to invest emotionally in something that is clearly doomed from the beginning. But as it turns out, Nicole is my giant twin (giant in the sense that she is six-feet tall--it's like standing next to a fucking tree). We have a ton in common, but we're different enough that it keeps things interesting. She's incredibly funny and smart and so much fun to hang out with (and very knowledgeable when it comes to shows that I will be addicted to). Not only that--she got along with all my friends (well, with the exception of one, hahahahahaha) and that is huge in my book. I have such an extensive range of different types of friends that anyone who gets along with ALL of them gains serious bonus points.

Here's the kicker--Nicole and I had pretty much been in close proximity for the entire semester. Her office was right by Dominique's, and I was in Dom's office every Monday, Wednesday and Friday attempting to pass 308. But we never talked because she was always hidden behind that stupid wall. So of course I don't befriend her until three weeks before she leaves Boise. LAME on my part.

I don't know if it is just in my nature to meet people, become attached and then have them move. I'm wondering if it is some sort of divine intervention. Maybe I'm a huge asshole when you know me for too long, and fate is just looking out for the interest of those that I befriend? I wouldn't be fucking surprised. Then again, I have managed to hold on to some truly amazing friends for extended periods of time. And I have a fairly accurate bullshit radar, so I can generally tell when people are full of shit and not worth my time. Because I do believe it's fate that the people that I meet are in my life. Everything has a purpose; the universe isn't this fucked up place with no order. Science, religion...most believe in a plan. There is a plan for everyone. I'm not saying this plan can't be manipulated, but you do what you can with what you are given: if you fuck around and make shitty choices, then that is the path your plan will take. But if you realize that everything in this world is an opportunity--every person you meet, every place you go, everything you see and do and dream is an opportunity, it makes life a little less scary. It's taken me a long time to realize that the choices I have made, even those that I regret, are choices that have shaped who I am today. One different choice in the past and the people I know and love wouldn't be in my life today. And I can't imagine my life without the amazing people that are in it.

This blog was more of a chance for me to not cry my fucking eyes out and work some things out, but I hope it provides insight for people. To those of you who have stuck by me through thick and thin, happy Sarah or massively depressed Sarah, mellow Sarah or feisty Sarah, I love you and want you to know that you hold a special place in my heart.

NO MORE INTERMEDIATE ACCOUNTING!

I passed Accounting 308 with a 73%! This book:



can officially suck it! Woohoo! Elation!

OMG!!!

Thank GOD school is over. I had my last final today (Principles of Financial Statement Auditing--contain. your. jealousy) and promptly went to Anthropologie after said final and bought a new dress. I have not really slept in the past three days and I'm teetering on borderline psychosis.

I'm definitely, definitely looking forward to taking non-accounting classes while in Germany. I'm thinking Ceramics. Perhaps a German literature course. This is, of course, assuming I actually am proficient enough in German by the second semester to enroll in these courses. I have no doubt I will be, due to my unwavering need to run my fucking mouth at all times. I can't help it--I like to talk, and if that means having to learn German in record-time, so be it!

I'm going to be laying low for the next few days, trying to regroup after getting raped by the accounting department.

Eric Prydz changed my life...

This video combines two of my favorite things: the 80's and pelvic thrusting in spandex. BEST VIDEO EVER.

Veganism: Day...oh Fuck it...

So I might as well just start the 60-day thing over again. I had a tri-tip sandwich while down in Humboldt County. Oh, and then I had coconut-crusted chicken strips at the Reef. And we had Mother's Day brunch at Berryhill, and there is no point in trying to resist Berryhill Bacon. Not to mention all the pizza I've been eating lately.

I want to know if there are any vegan pot smokers out there. Because quite frankly, I'm trying to imagine a world where you smoke weed and DON'T eat meat or cheese or any dairy for that matter. I mean, who the fuck craves carrots when they're high? Cucumbers? Apples? You're full of shit. If it's mind over matter, I'm guessing I'm just a weak individual. So I'll try the whole vegan thing again soon. I've become quite fond of vegan burgers and vegan hot dogs. And I love the Whole Soy yogurt. It is amazing.

On a completely unrelated note, I just returned from Humboldt County where I ran the Avenue of the Giants half marathon, much against the advice of my orthopedic surgeon. I actually had a fairly decent time, all things considered (in addition to the knee-thing, I caught "the hippie spore" which is what I refer to any sort of illness caught whilst in Humboldt County), and only had a minute time added to my Salt Lake half. Here are a few pictures from beautiful Northern California. Occasionally I miss it, obviously:







And occasionally, I do not miss it or its inhabitants:



Marianne ran her half in record time (2:10), which I attribute to the fact that she is low to the ground and thus able to move faster than me. :) But I'm so lucky to have such an amazing friend who enjoys embarking on these half marathon adventures with me. Here is our before picture:



And here is our after picture:



I know it LOOKS like I have camel toe, but I swear-to-God, that's just the way the pants are cut. I was wearing spandex underneath for shit's sake; there is NO WAY I could have had camel toe.

I also go to see my amazing little sister perform with her band, Straightjacket Stiptease. I'm completely in awe over her awesomeness:



And although I think we look nothing alike, apparently others think we do:



So continuing on my rant, today was officially the WORST DAY EVER. Chances are good I failed my Accounting 308 final, which means I have to take the class again. I swear I'm not an idiot; this shit is just so incredibly fucking BORING. Accounting for governmental and not-for-profit agencies? I should have just told the professor that a) due to certain extracurricular activities, there's no way the government would hire me; and b) who the fuck wants to work for a not-for-profit? I may be slightly altruistic when it comes to donating designer handbags to the Idaho Youth Ranch, but there is no FUCKING way I am working for a not-for-profit.

You may be thinking, "so, you failed a class, there are worse things, yeah"? YEAH, bitch, there are. Like blowing out your knee AGAIN while playing a tennis match that you are clearly dominating, and then having to forfeit because every time you try to run, your knee pops out of place.

FML.

I've cried a lot tonight, which is so stupid because I never cry, but I'd like to thank Vickie for talking to me on the phone while I had a complete and total breakdown, and Nicole for bringing me Blue Cow and listening to what I'm sure was an entirely incomprehensible conversation due to the pain pill I took with my vodka tonic(s). I love you both dearly (even though I just met Nicole, she is fucking awesome).

I'll keep you all posted on the "vegan" thing. BALLS. I'm such a fucking asshole.