Ginger Ale.

When I was 20, I worked at a small restaurant in Victoria, where the owner told me, on the first day, that their ginger ale was just Sprite mixed with a little bit of Coke.
I had mixed feelings about obtaining this knowledge.
On one hand, I was privy to some sorts of super soda secret, but on the other hand, what else in my life is a total fallacy?

~sarah p.

So, there was a point in the early 90's where this happened:

Learn about why Marky Mark hates to perform (besides the obvious!), sneak a peek at one of Kris Kross' moms (it doesn't matter which one), and the secret behind TLC's condom-hats.

~sarah p.

p.s. Also, I am (almost) tattoo twins with a guy I saw on COPS last weekend!

Montana.

This weekend I bought four of the same t-shirt and learned about the surprisingly intoxicating effects of "herbal incense", which we bought from a strange hippie guy that tie-dyed Members Only jackets for a living.

I waded through several bizarre Montana thrift stores, and rode around in the car for hours and hours with Dylan and my sister... Poor Dylan.

I learned how to play Keno (and lost a total of $3 while doing so), and ate a steak that was so rich it almost killed me.

I brought back approximately three pounds of American candy (note the imperial conversion for my American friends), and genuinely remembered why I love my wonderful family so much...
It was a good weekend.

~sarah p.

p.s. I think I figured out something over the last few days: it will be easy for me to evade the natural aging process, so long as I continue to act like an immature asshole for the rest of my natural life.
It's fool-proof!

2007.

I found a large stack of magazines from 2007 this weekend.
2007 does not seem like a very long time ago, and, save for a few failed beauty products, the pages were very similar to every other magazine that I've read in the past month. I guess only thing that really stood out was the distinct lack of open-toed boots...
Man, I miss the good old days. The days where boots had toes, no question.

~sarah p.

p.s. I've been enjoying the odd karaoke evening over the last little while. I have also recently rekindled my love of rap. In fact, there are many places in the world where the two combine into some sorts of hip hop karaoke night. The catch, however, is that most of these rap karaoke nights have a stipulation where the N-word can't be used. Now, I am by no means an advocate for casual racism, but what is left to sing? Backpack rap, LL Cool J, Big Willie Style, and songs made before 1987? Noooo thanks, guys.

p.p.s. I am leaving in a few days to go down to the US for Fruit-Stripe-Gum-a-palooza 2011... I know a place in Kalispell that sells it by the case. My breath will be delightfully fruity, and my arms will be covered in sassy zebra tattoos, for months to come. Can't wait.

Tonight.

Tonight I'm feeling this album:
Lush. by Karmessiah

Tonight I'm reading FFWD on the floor and thinking about picking out a new pair of boots. Tonight I'm staying in to protest the snow.

~sarah p.