By the end of this summer, I plan to:
- Be able to turn a back walkover. It’s always been my dream to be able to turn a back flip or aerial or something impressive and airless (I had the gymnast dream at the same time I had the writing dream in fact…and then I got too tall and wimpy and so I got stuck with the boring writing shit…what the hell?! Oh well, at least I don’t have scary muscles I guess), but I’ve only ever been able to turn perfect, pretty cartwheels (not bragging at all; I just happen to have the best form ever, even now. And they totally tried to make be a cheerleader in high school just so they could take advantage of this talent…an idea I scoffed and giggled at. I mean, how would I ever have made it through those cheers with a straight face?). And even though I can turn all sorts of impressive cartwheels (regular, star, roundoffs, etc.), I’ve never been able to do anything more impressive. And while I think anything off the ground is pretty much out of my reach at this point, I believe I can stretch and psych and teach myself through a back walkover by the end of the summer. I hope.
- Set the world record in Leaf Leap off of Mario Party 7. I saw the super sweet documentary King of Kong (see it now) and went running to the Twin Galaxies website after to see if there were records set in Leaf Leap. And indeed there were…and guess what? I’m like several leaves above that bitch (the record, not the person…hey, I don’t judge people I don’t know)! So Eric’s Game Cube is currently broken but hopefully I can get that shit fixed and practice up for like a week and then set that record. I desperately want the world record certificate to hang over my desk at work. I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to set the record for Dinger Derby as well (which, that might totally look even better above my desk! I mean…dinger! That fucks my shit up!).
- Become a science fiction writer. I already have the most disturbing, detailed, strangely complex nightmares…so I figure, why not turn them into novels of the Stephen King variety? I’m not being a wimpy girl or anything; the stuff that goes on in my peaceful looking little sleeping head is deranged. I can’t wait to see my super smiley picture on the menacing inner flap of my books and attend some awesome sci-fi conventions. Ooh, it’s gonna be spectacular.
- Be able to take normal looking pictures of me naturally smiling at a moment’s notice. I tend to be unphotogenic and I immediately freeze when a camera points my way in any sort of public situation and I always end up looking rather frightened and/or phony and/or jacked in the subsequent photos taken…and I’m sick of this shit. My brother’s getting married this summer and I’d rather not look super un-Sarahlike in the wedding photos. Therefore, I’m starting “The Smile Project” (wow, awesomely creative title, right?). More information to follow.
- Learn to fucking dance my ass off in an impressive manner. Right now I can pretty much shake my booty and look kind of easy. Sometimes I can become aware of looking easy and then I just sort of stop my ass in mid swing and look slightly self-conscious (I call that move the “Blossom Shake of Shame”…and there’s a special reason this is funny and I know ya’ll don’t get it, but hey, I tend to leave people out of my inside jokes. Learn to love it…and if it’s any comfort, most of the inside jokes are just between me and me…sometimes me and Pavement..oh wait, that’s another one. Sucks to be you). But I want to be able to go to some lame ass dance club, just for one night, and make everyone else look like a fool. Like I’ll look like I’m on X, but I won’t be! Sounds great, right?! Also, I want to learn how to do a wicked salsa and do it all brilliantly at my brother’s wedding just to piss him and his fiance off (their big deal is that they’re getting a salsa band and taking lessons and it’s weirdly important to them…and in such situations, I of course find it necessary to fuck with people and their out of whack priorities). I ultimately won’t do this because I’m nice and sensitive and thoughtful in all reality (true, true, true, I promise)…but damn, I want to. But anyway, I’m currently finding my inspiration in two episodes of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia (see “Frank Sets Sweet Dee on Fire” and “The Gang Dances Their Asses Off”), an episode of Spaced (see “Epiphanies”), ABBA (always ABBA, baby), M.I.A., Peaches, and So You Think You Can Dance (a pretty likable, somehow radly inspiring show that’s like a zillion times better than the giant hole of lost dreams and pain and humiliation that is American Idol). I’m gonna dance up a hell of a sweat (a glowing pretty sweat that smells like flowers) at some choad club near you sometime this summer and damnye (my newest curse word; if you figure out its origins I’ll buy you some apple juice or something), it’s gonna be like nothing you’ve ever seen before (and I’ll do some choad battling and fighting while I’m there…which will mainly consist of them wanting to buy me drinks/screw me after seeing my dancing prowess and me straight up denying them…hey, that hurts and you know it).
And that’s that for now. I’ve got some self-improvin’ to go work on.
I'm a writer, music freak, pop culture critic-at-large, natural born lover, and professional crayon drawer.
