Day 31: I take two steps forward and pas de bourre back..

Hey there adoring fans (Tree Sarvay)!

As most of you know, I’ve been a dancing since I was 5, and then got paid to dance by age 21…

pole dancers

Just kidding!  This is actually a picture from one of my first paid gigs.  And yes, I am dressed as laundry detergent.  This is what happens in musical theatre…just go with it.

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I’m in this weird place where I do still love to dance, but am pretty sure that I want to pursue other things in life.  I’m ready to explore the other crap that I’m into.  I really like comedy, and writing, and improv, and possibly producing, and drinking wine, and throwing Christmas/Oktoberfest/Toga parties, but haven’t picked a direction to go in for my new career.   While I’m still working on that, I have missed dancing and the way my body looks and feels as a dancer (just look at that picture…no not the one of me…the one of those 2 Daddy-left-them-when-they-were-7-plus-30-year-old-metabolism-and-gravity-hasn’t-hit-them-yet-pole-dancers, they’re hot!).  As you all know, I’ve started taking ballet class on Saturday afternoons, which is making me totally happy (and given Duane Reade a rapid spike in Aleve, IcyHot, and Sierra Nevada sales), but I have been missing good old fashioned jazz class.  Which is why when my roommates suggested we all take Intermediate/Advanced theatre jazz class taught by none other than the Randy Skinner, I said OK.

skinner randy

All you need to know about Randy Skinner

1. He’s a badass old school “song and dance” choreographer (think Fred Astaire’s twin…or son…I’m not really sure how old Randy is…so maybe he’s more like if Gene Kelly* and Fred Astaire* got legally married and had a son…via surrogate Shirley Temple*…after she turned 18 because no one wants to be accused of “date-surrogate-rape”…that baby would be Randy Skinner).

2.  He choreographed a bunch of musicals including White Christmas, which I performed in the holiday seasons of 05′, 06′, and 07′.   Side note: he has not hired me since which I don’t hold against him. I’m sure it was just some mix-up with casting…or they finally found that box of props I drew penises on.

3.  Any time Randy teaches a class in New York City, 400 people show up and 399 of them are there in the hopes to get hired by him…

and this was the component that made me a little weary taking class.  I haven’t seen a lot of these people in the last 6 months and I was apprehensive about two things.  One being that I would have to explain that the reason I haven’t seen them was that I was basically quitting business, and the second being that I haven’t really danced  (besides my 2 old lady ballet classes) since June, and was worried that I was going to suck a big bag of balls in front of everyone….

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This is my apprehension face.

Luckily by time class started I got over myself.

No one took offense to me taking a break from the business.  Everyone was really supportive (plus, there’s one less 5’4” blonde alto tap dancer in the audition pool, so you’re welcome ladies).  And I finally remembered  this key element of life: people are always way more concerned about what they’re doing than what you’re doing.  I’m living proof!  Right now, I’m sitting here writing a blog all about me!  If I wanted, I could give the play-by-play about the pimple on my forehead right now (tried to pop it last night but only a little came out…hopefully tonight will be a mirror splattering adventure).  That’s not to say that we are self centered s*it-heads and don’t care about other people.  We do (otherwise why would the 4 of you be reading this post anyway…and why do I keep following other peoples blogs about the art of cat sweaters?  And duh, FACEBOOK!  The place where you can stalk anyone you want! Even though we only tag pictures of ourselves where we look good, regardless of if our friend has a muffin top or is passed out in a pool of their own vomit).  I just need to keep in mind for myself, that just because I do things like take a dance class, it doesn’t mean that all 399 people in the room are wondering weather or not I’ve still got it (I totally still got it).

So, to keep bettering my life (spellcheck didn’t correct bettering so I’m going to go with it as being a real word), I’m going to still take class, and see my theatre friends, and stop worrying about whether people are judging me and especially stop judging myself for whatever I plan on doing next.  Even if it is to become a transgendered hobo (it’s not to become a transgendered hobo).

Great class ladies!

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F me! This is gonna hurt tomorrow.

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*If you don’t know who any of these people are, please jump on a mini trampoline for 37 minutes, and immediately drink an entire bottle of tabasco sauce…the green one.  Good, now you’ve learned your lesson.

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Day 29: I’m blue daba de daba “Hi guys”!

Hey there adoring fans (Nikki Della Penta)!

Sorry I’ve been absent for a few days.  I know!  You all want to find out what life is like after the ballet class that I wrote about in my last post.  This post isn’t about that, but I can give you “just the tip” of what life feels like after ballet class: pain, suffering, happiness, fulfillment, a few depressing body issues, and thirst…for a beer (to dullen the pain of body issues…which probably worsens the body issues because instead of opting for a light beer that tastes like a mixture of donkey pee and deceit or even a glass of I don’t know…water…you have chosen to pick an IPA that has at least a 6% alcohol content and tastes like a mixture of denial and that carpenter from 2007…no I don’t have a problem…so stop asking…).  Now let’s move on.  My bedroom/office renovation is in full swing…and is taking FOREVER.

Last week, Abby and I headed to Home Depot on 23rd street to buy some paint.  As I have previously mentioned on Day 12: The Vision Board (you haven’t read that post?!  Usually this is the part where I get angry at you and say that you’re never going to become an adoring fan that way, but I’m now realizing that I probably shouldn’t scold the 14 readers I have and just update you that on Day 12: The Vision Board….I created a vision board) I decided to remodel my bedroom after Carrie Bradshaw’s bedroom in the Sex and the City movie.  (yes, the first one…duh).  I was lead to this decision by a few variables.

Reasons I’m painting my room Blue

1.  My friend Rebecca entered my birthday into some sort of Chinese website and found that water was my best element, (and Dog is my animal…who knew?  That guy that I let get to 3rd base in the bathroom of a PF Chang’s said I was such a boar…get it?  Play on words?   Boar and bore…they’re not all good.) so blue would be a good choice.

2.  I think the color blue is pretty.


3.  Carrie Bradshaw made-over her life after moving on from Mr. Big, and I’m conducting a makeover on myself after moving on from (hopefully) the rat race of career choices that are no longer fulfilling my life.  Plus, Carrie presumably gets paid a ton of money to write about her life which sounds pretty awesome to me.  What?  Carrie Bradshaw is a fictional character played by Sarah Jessica Parker and could not have possibly made enough money writing a weekly column to have her own studio apartment and dress like a Russian debutant hooker?  Well, theoretical voice, on my Vision Board she can and does…and that’s all it takes for the power of positive thinking.  So BLAM!  Back to painting my room blue

Here’s Carrie B’s room…

carrie b's roomSo, as I was saying, Abby and I headed down to Home Depot on 23rd street (which sadly didn’t have a hotdog stand in front of it like they do in my hometown…I know, I don’t eat meat. I can still enjoy the ambiance of a hotdog stand) and picked up some paint.

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This is the color of my future…The Isle of Carpri….

paint 17I know what you’re thinking ladies and the answer is YES!  I did give Gary the paint guy/photo bomber my phone number.  Sometimes you gotta play to win (I did not give that dude my number and his name is not Gary (probably)).

Unfortunately, I have not budgeted my time wisely with this whole “paint your room like Carrie’s so you can quit your day job and become a famous millionaire by writing about seemingly sassy (man hunting) and a tad bit boring (trip to home depot) adventures.”  Cause, before you paint, you have to do a lot of s*it like clean behind all of your furniture that you haven’t cleaned behind since you moved into the apartment 6 years ago.  Dang!

Let’s get started.

paint 12

paint 11Not too bad, not too bad.  Just a few pennies, 14 bobby pins, my dignity and some big ass dust bunnies…

paint 7Pretty gross, huh?  Now, if I were a boring person, I would just toss this in the trash and go about cleaning.  As you can tell, I’m not a boring person.  I’m a super creative as well as highly sophisticated person.  After returning from the arts and crafts table, I turned our little friend here into…

Our little friend here!

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Readers, I’d like you to meet the newest member of the SixtySixdaysofSarah team, Dusty!!!

I thought Flat Pam and Flat Sarah could use a friend.  (Flat Pam and Flat Sarah are a children’s project that I’m working on where I taker her on adventures (grave robbing) around NYC.

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 Time to meet your new BFF girls!

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Awwwwww…you guys look great together.  Now that Dusty is out from behind the dresser, let’s paint this mofo.

The first stroke!

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3 days later…

 I’m still painting this stupid stupid room and it feels like I’m reading that last book by Dan Brown.  Where it takes forever to finish and the ending blows and you wish that you had gone out for 14 brunches instead because that’s how long it took to read (and I’m talking those all you can drink brunches where you pay $23 and have an omlet and 19 bloody mary’s and take up the table for 4 hours and then the server hates you, but then likes you again after you tell him how you’re so surprised that he didn’t book that job at that audition you were both at because his pirouettes were fierce….those kind of brunches).  Painting was becoming uber frustrating.  Especially when I went to paint the top corner of my closet…

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I  mean I know the paint brush should go with the grain of the wood but what happens at the dang  corner?!  Do I go horizontal the whole way?!  Or vertical!?  Or try to go diagonal at that diagonal line?!  And why the Hell did I get painting tape the same color as my paint?!  And why didn’t you turn the radiator off before you got on the ladder that’s directly above the radiator?! How stupid can you be Sarah?!  You’ll never be like Carrie Bradshaw!  She probably hired painters to do it for her so she could go out and teach Jennifer Hudson life lessons about love (and possibly suggest that she join Weight Watchers so that one day she could look like a Somalian orphan…am I right?   She’s mad skinny now…it’s like I expect to see her in a hut made of clay with a fly landing directly on her eyeball at the exact moment that the camera pans to her to get you to pay 9 cents a day…too far?  I’m just saying she’s skinny is all…I digress).  I was getting so worried that I was going to destroy my new bedroom/office that I almost gave up.  But then I felt a little tap on my shoulder and turned around…

paintThank you Dusty.  You’re so right. Worry is the prayer for chaos in our lives!   I shall worry no more Dusty.  It will all be ok.  Hey Dusty, how did you come up with that quote when I only created you 23 minutes ago from the dust bunnies behind my dresser?  I guess we can talk about it when I tuck you in tonight.

And with that… I have completed 2 whole walls in my room.

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paint 19

See you guys on day 192 when my room is completed.

Fictional character  Carrie Bradshaw…here I come!

PS: Special shout out to friend Rebecca the self proclaimed “Paint Nazi” for helping me out!

She’s allowed to say paint nazi because she’s half jewish.  And toured with the musical Cabaret.

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Day: Wanna come hang with my passé?

Hey there adoring fans (Mindy Dougherty Baida)!

So, you remember that day (Day 15: Ballet (the “T” is silent) specifically…you didn’t read day 15?  You’re never going to become an adoring fan with that attitude…and if you’re not an adoring fan then what are you?  Just a blog reader with no recognition…that’s like a barber hangin’ out with a bunch of bald guys…is it though Sarah?…that’s the best comparison you can come up with?…how about a hemorrhoid with no preparation H?…or better yet a hemorrhoid with no butt hole?…PS: you should probably stop talking about hemorrhoids…it makes people uncomfortable…now back to the story about the good thing you did to feel good about your life) that I got all ready to take ballet class and then the train was late (I spent too much time having my roommate take pictures of me) and I didn’t make it to class?  Well, this time…

I finally made it to ballet class!

My friend Aleka told me about this ballet class that she takes on Saturday afternoons.  Her pitch was “It’s a bunch of 70 year old women and me.”  Which (sadly) was exactly what I was looking for (because although the rest of my body is at the ripe young age of 30, my right knee is circling the drain at the age of 105, so when you average it out, a geriatric ballet class plus 2 mimosas was the perfect decision).

Before class started…

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After petite allegro (small, quick jumps that remind you that you probably should have taken a poop before class started…stop talking about poop…it’s making people think about hemorrhoids)…

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After class (after a pitt stop at Duane Reade where you picked up an icepack….and a six-pack).

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Moral of the story: You’re old and your body hates you. Going to they gym all of the time (once a week) is not going to give you your dancer body back and ballet actually makes you happy and happiness is what we’re going for right now.  So, go to class more you fat f*ck.

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See you next week Aleka (notice the under-boob-sweat.  You’re welcome)!

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Day 22: Yo, your Malm is so fat…

Hey there adoring fans (Cathy Church)!

In order to better my 30 year old adult life, I have started organizing.  My roommates have advised  me that it is no longer kosher for me to use the living room as my office space, and that I’m probably not allowed to use the word kosher as it may or may not be racist.  So, it’s time to set up my bedroom as a home office.  The first step was to de-clutter my bedroom which I started on Day 18: Everyday I’m shufflin’ (what’s that?  You didn’t read Day 18?  Well fine, I don’t care what you did on Day 18 of turning your life around either…unless it was really good…oooohhh, did you do something really cool on Day 18?   Did you meet Tina Fey?  You did?!  I hate you….whoever you are…which I’m pretty sure is just a manifestation of my mind…what were we talking about?  Oh, right…I de-cluttered) my apartment last week, and yesterday my roomies and I took a huge hall to the salvation army…

salvation army

That’s my tax write off receipt.  Can’t wait for June 27th (that’s when I do my taxes…what?).  Then the roomies and I rented a Zip Car and headed out to good ole’ New Jersey (aka “the armpit of America”) to go to…


As most of you (especially New Yorkers) I’m sure know, Ikea is the most amazing place on earth.  You can get a bed, shower curtain, or 10 thousand tea lights for like $4.99!  I had been excited about this trip all week but when the day finally came, I found myself super anxious and in a terrible mood.  After ruling out PMS (which will be in another 2 weeks…mark your calendars) I realized that this almost always happens to me when going on big shopping trips with other people.  I’m always fine when I go shopping by myself but for some reason group shopping always makes me want to reach for the xanax (don’t worry, I didn’t pop any pills Mom…jeesh).  Instead of just rolling with the bad mood as I usually do, I took a look back into little Sarah’s life and found exactly where the anxiety stems from.  As most of you know I’ve been dancing since the age of 5.  By the time I hit Middle School I started traveling with the other girls from my studio to dance competitions (did you all know that this blog was written by the former “Miss. Dance of the Mid-Atlantic, 2000”?  Which means I was the best girl out of a dozen girls between the ages of 15 and 17 one time.  Jealous?).   Every November we would go to this competition in Williamsburg VA which was located near a ton of Outlets (shopping not electrical…although there were plenty of electrical outlets too…how else could I plug in my Crimper).  Mind you this was way before my “Miss. Dance” title.  I was in middle school at the time and these were the days of name brand everything.  If you didn’t own Guess Jeans, an oversized Tommy Hilfiger T-shirt and Starter Jacket  (throw in a teal pager if you’re a badass…well, less of a badass if the only one that pages you is your mom) you were not one of the cool kids.  Our family didn’t have as much money as the other girls and I knew it, but my mother (god bless her) still took me out shopping with my friends and their Moms, made me try on the $60 jeans with the other girls, and bought them even though I tried to stop her by assuring her that I would grow out of them before the year was over (as I knew we couldn’t afford it…plus back then I had dreams of being a tall buxom bombshell…which were squashed after realizing that with a mother of 5’6” and a father of 5’3” the odds were against me).  I’m not telling this story for anyone to feel bad for me because we weren’t dirt poor or anything dramatic ( I did after all have a teal pager) but in reaching my goal of becoming a better person I think it’s important to recognize why we get in bad moods or anxious at times for seemingly no reason.  I have the most amazing parents who never let my brother and I live without, but somehow I can’t shake the feeling of not having enough money when I’m out shopping with other people, even my dear friends.  Anybody else out there feel that way?  The truth is, I’m doing ok enough with my finances to spend money on things that will improve my life or even things that won’t (like when I spent $6 renting Bachelorette OnDemand…it sucked), I just have a hard time not feeling guilty about it.  So you know what?  I’m working on that s*it.  I’m going to stop worrying about my money because “Worry is a prayer for Chaos in our lives”…which I just stole from this awesome spiritual coach…

Gabrielle Bernstein!

I know, barf if you want to, but I think she’s super cool.  I’ve never actually met her, but she has a bunch of youtube videos if anyone is interested at Spirit Junkie TV.  If not, just maybe watch some porn.  That puts me in a good mood too…just kidding…kind of.  So now that I’ve self therapized myself and gotten rid of my bad shopping juju (I hear people say “bad juju” all of the time and wanted to make sure I was using it in the right context so I looked it up on

1. bad juju
Haunted by a bad vibe or aura. Can be used as a noun or an adjective.
Now that place had some bad juju.In answer to a question about what someone thought of a person place or thing one could answer, “bad juju”.
2. Bad JuJu
A Person Who Sleeps Around So Much That They Must Have Several STDs.
Damn, I Must Have Saw That Girl With Four Different Guys At That Party, I Wouldn’t Mess Around With That, She’s Bad JuJu!

…I’m going to go ahead and vote that I’m using the first definition for this circumstance.  Stand by for me spending the rest of my life trying to be the girl that they’re talking about in the second).

Back to Ikea!  Here we are having dinner.  Because you can have dinner at Ikea…’nough said.

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I bought some sheets, organizational shelves, and curtains.  Side note: This was Abby’s first time at IKEA!  Can you believe it?  What did she use to furnish her college apartment?   Milk cartons, blow up furniture, and Nurtra-Grain bars????  She got a little overwhelmed when we got to the Ikea Self Serve Warehouse…

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This is her classic W-O-W face.

How to make the Abby WOW face: Hold 3 fingers up next to each side of your face, and make an “O” with your mouth…what will these kids think of next?

Things were going well until we found that a piece Abby had written down from the show room was mislabeled.  I don’t remember what it was…but it’s description had 2 umlauts and 3 swedish meatballs.

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So she and John went to find the missing piece (awww….remember that Shel Silverstein book The Missing Piece?  I loved that book.  There was a poem about a little girl who told her parents that if they didn’t buy her a pony she would die…and then she died because her parents wouldn’t buy her a pony.  Come to think of it, that is a terrible poem to put in a children’s book…and may have something to do with my anxieties about money and my parents*)

So while they were gone, I waited…

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Finally everything was hunky dory and we made a pit stop at the bathroom before leaving…

Did youse guys know that public bathroom toilet seat covers are as good as using those fancy “oil blotting” papers when it comes to de-shining your face?  I’m not a hobo, it’s totally true…I read it in Cosmo.

ikea 1

Alright.  Now let’s load this s*it into our Zip Car.  Abby, could please hurry up.  It’s cold outside and we left our coats in the car…No Abby, you have to round the corners…get away from that giant inconvenient cement pillar.


Ok guys.  Now where’s the car?  I swear we parked it right outside of Ikea…Oh, crap…we’ve been in New York City for way too long…

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After John ran around for 20 minutes clicking the panic button, we finally found the car.  Then comes the part where you have to play the “Jenga for your Life” game by figuring out how to arrange an 8ft bookshelf, 5ft dresser, 47cm Muster und Drucke mit Vergangenheit, 2 sets of 144 thread count sheets, and 20 tubes of crab spread…yes, Ikea has crab spread.

crab spread

You guys are doing a great job…

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No seriously, you guys are doing a great job…I swear…no, I can see better from here.  Keep it up!

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So ends our trip to IKEA.  I’ve learned a lot of life lessons today, the most important one being to remember where you parked your rental car…especially when you opt to leave your coats in said car after the temperature has dropped to 8 degrees.  Goodbye New Jersey!  See you when we’re in prison!

*the poem is titled A Little Girl Named Abigail and the Beautiful Pony…not from the book The Missing Piece, but the other totally good book A Light in the Attic.

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Day 21: Are you ready for some futbol?!

Hey there adoring fans (Mindy Cowan)!

This post is dedicated to all of my male readers.  I realize that you probably haven’t been entertained too much by my last few posts about trying to lose weight, going to ballet class, and do-it-yourself-pap-smears, so today I’m going to write specifically with you fellas in mind as I give you…

the play-by-play of yesterday’s Football games!

The day started out as any other game day that I’m sure you gentleman viewers have gone through with the “picking out of the cute outfit.”  Joining me for the games (among others) were my 2 amazeball neighbors that have recently moved to New York from San Franciso, so I was forced by association to be a 49-ers fan for game one.  I myself am from Baltimore (well, right outside of Baltimore… in the suburbs… I really can’t give you much more than that as one of you I’m sure would like to find out exactly where I was born so that you could use that information to steal my identity…and not in a cute way like that movie that’s about to come out with that hilarious woman from bridesmaids and that guy from Juno…and I think maybe someone said he was in Arrested Development, which I’ve never seen…and then people get mad because apparently it is the type of show that I would love…in conclusion, I’m from outside of Baltimore, and I would really appreciate it if you didn’t steal my identity) so I am by my birthright forced to root for the Ravens (I don’t think that’s what birthright means).

Here right now is a complete breakdown of the playoffs..

As I do not own any NBA gear to support either team, I decided to do some arts and crafts to create some fabulous headgear (a hat…not a retainer attached to a nylon head piece).

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No, that’s not a beer on the table(jeesh, Mom…) it’s balsamic vinegar which I used on my breakfast ‘vegan hoppin salad’ (yep, I’m still on the whole vegan thing…it’s working out really well…my skin is clearer and I’m having a lighter menstrual cycle…wait…this is the post to reel in some male viewers…substitute the word ‘vegan’ with ‘getting fingered in a cab’ and ‘menstrual cycle’ with ‘aversion to roofies’).

Step 1 to making an awesome football match outfit…

Find a trucker hat that you have lying around your apartment (that your roommates voted you get rid of…who’s a hoarder now?!)

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Step 2…use some tape to attach the picture that you’ve drawn to said trucker hat…

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Step 3…there is no step 3.  You’re a 49-ers fan now!

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I do believe that I’m the Martha Stewart of do-it-yourself-millinery (that’s a fancy word for hat making…that I just looked up…so I could sound fancy… substitute ‘fancy’ with ‘like I have Daddy issues’.

Now, I know some of you guys out there like to do this thing called “tail gating” before a game, but as we are New Yorkers and don’t have cars (or parking lots) we…

go to brunch!

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Ok, you guys are not helping me get male viewers…straight male viewers…probably even gay for that matter.  Yes, I know that hurricane’s are delicious…wait, they’re only 5 bucks?  Oh Abby you should totally get one….yeah, get one and then take a picture with Bridget and I where we are smiling and you are making a sexy face…yeah, open your mouth just enough to be “interesting”…that’s it you fiery redhead…the dudes are gonna love this!

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So after about 45 $5 hurricanes and 84 two for one bud lights the 49-ers win and are going to the Powerball!  I have no idea why we were kissing our biceps?  Maybe something to do with the home runs some guy scored?

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Costume change!  Time for game 2!

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How’s it going Jess?  Jess?  Awww, look.  You seem to be having a nice dream.  Probably about some sweet girl-on-girl action on top of a motorcycle  (that one’s for you fellas).

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After 20 more beers, our roommate John finally showed up, and we took a really cute picture…

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Then I guess the Ravens won (which I had to keep asking about because when you’ve had 114 beers and don’t know anything about football you have to ask other cute boys at the bar who won the game).  Hooray, now we can have a Brooks Brothers Superbowl!

football 12I hope you enjoyed my football play-by-play.  If anyone has a 2nd cousin that works for ESPN 3, please send them my blog as I am looking for work.  If they are not interested tell them that I’m ready and willing to do some girl-on-girl action on top of a motorcycle (but substitute ‘girl-on-girl’ with ‘drinking-red-wine-while-watching-American-Idol’ and substitute ‘motorcycle’ with ‘your face’).

Special shout out to friend Megan who is both a Patriots fan and a porn star (she is not a porn star).


PS: if any of you would like to subscribe to my blog to get alerted when I write new posts so that you don’t have to rely on Facebook or that batman like shadow that I post in the sky, please do.  I think there’s a ‘subscribe’ button somewhere.

Day 18: Every day I’m shufflin’…or, yesterday I cleaned my room

Hey there adoring fans (Stephanie Hilton)!

Confession:  I am the sloppiest person known to man.  I’m talking, if I was left to my own devices I would probably be a hoarder.  Luckily though, I live with my 2 roommates, John and Abby, who are both extremely neat and organized.  I’m talking  when they have an extra 15 minutes to spare they clean the bathroom or run the dishwasher…OCD right?  Cause if I have an extra 15 minutes to spare I do things like watch the middle of Criminal Minds where I have no idea what’s going on because I didn’t see the dead body in the beginning and have to leave to go to work before I find out who is responsible for the dead body that I didn’t get to see.  And if I’m lucky it’s a Mandy Patinkin episode and not a Joe Mantegna episode…although he is starting to grow on me.  So, as I am working on creating a happier and healthier life for myself.  I have decided to nip this ongoing messiness in the bud.   I googled “How to be more neat and organized” and came across the same advice over and over, which was…

In order to be organized, you must first get rid of all of your clutter.

And boy do I have a lot of clutter, especially in my closet.  I enlisted my fabulously neat roommates to help me out.

And to add drama, I’ve decided to use the same technique as Carrie Bradshaw and her friends did while cleaning out her apartment in the Sex and the City Movie…the first one…we’ve previously discussed how the second one shall never be mentioned again.

For the purposes of this blog, the signs “TAKE” will be used as votes for items that I will keep (in SATC the girls used “TAKE” as in “take these items with you to your new sexy penthouse that your rich boyfriend who is about to leave your ass bought you), and the signs “TOSS” will be used as a vote for items that I should get rid of…”Thanks Captain Obvious”…”Your welcome,” annoying theoretical voice.  Now let’s get this party started.

First up…

Some hats.

Let’s start with this lovely hat that my friend Margot De Labarre knitted for me 7 years ago while doing the musical White Christmas in Detroit…

eye 8

And the vote is…

hat 2

Good, because I really like that hat.

Now what about this crap load of yarn that I got  that same day in the hopes to knit (learn how to knit ) a scarf that matches the hat?

eye 7

And the vote is…


Really you guys?  You have such little faith in me.  Ok, fine.  I’ll toss it.  What’s next?

Ok, how about this White Christmas hat that I bought in hopes that I would wear it every Holiday season while on tour with this show?

Side note:  I have not been hired to do this show in the last 4 years…which is totally fine…I don’t need your stupid health insurance/401k anyway…I can do my own pap smears…at home…with a few Q-tips and a milk jug….

eye 4

What do you say guys?



(yes, this is the same photo as I already used…sorry ’bout it…my roommates are annoyed enough having to take 47 pictures of me a day doing weird s*it, I’m lucky I got them for this one).

Moving on…

Sam Adams Oktoberfest hat?

eye 9


Pabst Blue Ribbon trucker hat?

eye 6

And St. Patrick’s Day headband with antenna…

eye 5

The verdict..


You guys are going to be so sad you voted this way next Oktoberfest, St. Patty’s day, and National White Trash day (yes, I made up National White Trash day…I think?)

What about this PBR cowboy hat?


Huh?  Huh?


Ok.  I’m getting a little tired of this negative attitude (and this picture).  What if I told you I had one for each of us?



hat 2

That’s what I thought you might say (with another stock photo).

Moving on…

My Halloween costume from 2011 made entirely out of dryer sheets.  What was I?  The Dyer Sheet Fairy…obvi (that’s what the kids are saying instead of obviously these days…I read it on the twitter).


What do you guys think?


F U John.  I spent like 17 hours making this.  What?  No, I haven’t worn it since 4 am November 1st 2011, but I could wear it again some day?  Did you see the sock on the back?

sheet 2

No.  Still not good enough for you?  What about the shoes?

sheet 3

No?!  You suck (and yes, I probably should have re-painted my toe nails before I took this picture).  I’m getting a 3rd party’s opinion.  What say you 3rd party?


Fine.  Guess who’s not getting fed later?  It’s you, Ruby…it’s you.

(Don’t worry, I’m still going to feed her.  Please don’t call PETA).

Here’s one you’ll like John.  A little Gypsy swag (John and I were in Gypsy on Broadway together.  The producers gave us this G-string on Opening night.  It says Patti LuPone Gypsy.  Excuse me while I pick up the name I just dropped…that only musical theatre people probably know about).


And the vote is…

eye 11

Thanks John!  You suck Abby  What’s that?  Why, yes.  I did draw this picture on the back of an envelope.  I accidentally deleted the real life image from my camera.  Pretty good resemblance, no?  I may give up blogging and shot girl-ing to become a professional illustrator.  Watch your back Chris Van Allsburg…the illustrator of Jumanji and other various children’s books…like the Polar Express…who may or may not be dead…the author, not the Polar Express)

Alright, how about these pants that have holes in the crotch for various reasons…

Everyday wear and tear from morning dog walks over the past 4 years..

eye 3 Reaching down to pick up your keys which you dropped in the elevator after a long night of rescuing puppies (drinking)…

eye 2

And last butt not least (see how I did that? …butt with 2 “t’s”…you gotta play to win with these jokes guys…gotta play to win)

From doing a jump split at a gay karaoke bar after being challenged to a dance off by a 22 year old kid.

Which I totally won.

eye 1

What do you think guys?  No?  Come on.  How about we ask former roommate and future Mrs. Ben Gonzalez…(who is lounging in her office…in Pullman Washington).

Mary Trotter!

mary 2

Ok.  Fine.  Not quite sure why you’re laying on the couch like that.  Are you trying to seduce me Mary?  Well, it’s working.

Ok, I’m getting tired (drunk).  How about you help me out with some more stuff Abby Church…

Purple Unitard.  Go!


Love it!  In the words of Buddy the Elf “Very purple-y”.


Ok John, it’s your turn.  You wouldn’t let me keep my dryer sheet Halloween costume, but what about this Little Red Riding Hood costume from 2008?


That’s a keeper…

Special shout out to John’s mom, Hi Diane!


Ok, thanks team.  I think we’re done for the day.  Now, off to the salvation army.  I think they’ll be happy to have all of those dryer sheets…they’re spring rain scented….atleast they were in 2011…


Sarah out!


Day 15: Ballet (the “T” is silent)…

Hey there adoring fans (Justin Aefsky)!

So in order to better my life today, I decided to …

…Take Ballet Class!

You see kids, my mother signed me up for ballet lessons at the ripe old age of 5.  I hated it.  My Mom wanted me do it…

A. Because her mother made her take ballet when she was a little girl.


B.  Because her best friends were signing their daughters up.

powder puff

Yep.  That’s adorable little me (can you guess which one?  You’re right!  I’m all the way on the left).  The funny thing is that my Mom didn’t even want me to do ballet.  She wanted me to be a horseback rider (like she was at that age…which I kind of did until I fell off a Thoroughbred at the Race Track…when I was 7…Did I ever mention that I grew up on a Race Track?  Or that Thoroughbreds like grass more than they like 7 year old girls?   No.  That’s a whole ‘nother story …for a ‘nother  time….I like usin’ ‘nother) but after my very first recital, I was hooked!

ballet 2See how adorable I was (PS: this is my current goal weight)!  Anywho.  I haven’t danced in 6 months (since I hurt my knee in Broadway Bares…where we strip to raise money to fight AIDS….yes, strippers fighting AIDS….just go with it) and my body has turned into a human jello mold (even though over the last month I’ve gone to the gym 5 times a week…3 times a week…1 time a week…I went once…and No, I’m not stealing that joke from Mindy Khaling from The Mindy Project….ok maybe I am…I love her….she’s my new girl crush since Tina Fey and I are fighting….Tina Fey does not know who I am…does anyone have Zooey Deschanel’s number?).  Having ballet back in my life will make me feel better mentally and physically (and take up some red wine drinking time…which I don’t need because I don’t have a problem Mom…jeesh).

First thing’s first.  What the Hell do grownups wear to ballet class these days?

leotard 2

Aha!  Here’s a leotard.  Oh wait, this is definitely from college.  Do you hear dry rot in that elastic?  Yep.

leotard 1

Ok, we got the leotard covered (what’s that sound?  All of my male viewers once again clicking the little x at the top of the screen because they are tired of hearing about ballet class?  Fair enough.  The next few pictures are quite vivid…but not attractive at all.  I understand if you bow out now.  One day soon I will get to your favorite topics…hand jobs and motorcycles (that one’s for you neighbor)).

Time for tights…

leotard 3

Oh Jesus.  This is not going to be a good day.

leotard 4

Special shout out to Abby Church for taking super awkward pictures of me looking crazy attractive.  Why am I still single?  Who knows.

Ok, this is not working.  I’m going to be the biggest loser at the barre (when usually I’m the biggest winner at the BAR!  Get it?  Barre and Bar are homonyms.  Words that sound the same but mean different things.  Thank you Howard County Public School Systems…and bartenders).

leotard 7

I’ve got an idea!

leotard 8

Side note: Abby commented on how much she love’s my “I have an idea” photo’s…which means I’ve done this bit a few times….jeesh.

I know!  I’ll put on those garbage bag looking pants (that only fellow ballet class attenders would understand.  I’m not quite sure of the purpose.  They either make you sweat more in the ass-al region, or just make your ass-al region look bigger which in turn makes the rest of your non ass-al region look smaller?)

leotard 9

See what I mean?  Now where are my freakin’ ballet shoes?

leotard 10

Yes.  Those boots are very cool.  I figure they’re a mix between “Punky Brewster” and a 90 year old gardner.

Here they are!

leotard 11

Now that you’ve spent 45 minutes (having your picture taken…without any make-up…that you’re posting for millions (12) of people to see) getting ready.   Get your ass out the door and get  to class!

leotard 12Sad side note: The train took 10 minutes to come (that’s what she said) and I was too late to make it to class.  Inspirational blog though! No?

Let’s see if we can make it tomorrow.

PS: ‘nother shout out to my Mom and Dad who stuck by me and helped pay for my “Degree in Dance”…and for figuring out to scan pictures into their computer and then send them to my email address from 1999.  Love you!

Day 14: Sarah finds a horse that bevels…

Hey there adoring fans (Shane Regier)!

Today’s post isn’t really about a beveling horse…

horse bevel

Although I did come upon this fabulous creature while walking down Central Park South on the way to my “Introduction to your new Mac” class!  (For any of you non-musical theatre kids out there, a bevel is a position that one can stand in to make one’s physique look taller/thinner/sexier/gay-er.  I mean, how sexy is this gay horse?  The bevel is a staple of  the Radio City Rockettes…


which my stubby 5’4” self will never be…whatever…I’m the perfect height for a lot of things…like being in the front line of group soccer photos…if I ever decided to play group soccer…or needing to ask a tall handsome fella to grab me some pickled beets from the top shelf of the grocery store…which leads to a conversation about the pickling industry…which turns into coffee around the corner where you find out that both of your grandmother’s went to the same elementary school…which leads to a second date…which leads to becoming the 3rd Mrs. Ryan Reynolds… I digress…).

So, in keeping with the theme of my blog which is “doing something to better myself on a daily basis”, I’ve decided to…

…call a truce with technology.

Our war has been going on long enough and it is time that I break down and wave my little white “I give up, you win computer/phone/cable box/microwave/curling iron” flag, and learn one or 2 things about how this stuff works.

Which brings me back to the Apple Store on 5th Avenue.  A special thanks to the Japanese family that took this photo and didn’t run away with my cell phone…and didn’t giggle at my two thumbs up as I did not giggle at the peace signs in their photo…I’m lying…I did giggle…but only a little.

apple store

I learned a great deal from my Intro to your Mac class…like what the F3 button does, and how to make your screen brighter or duller (which I’m pretty sure most 3 year olds already knew how to do).  Being so excited to learn how to do more s*it, I decided to pay (put on my credit card) the $99 for a years worth of “one-to-one” classes.  The first step was to transfer the crap from my old computer onto my new computer.  Here is a picture of my fantastic helper Shane and his helper in training (who’s name I feel terrible about forgetting…so we will call him Shawn…Shane and Shawn, how adorable) Shawn taking a moment to get acquainted with the oldest living computer on the planet…which is mine.

old computerPuzzled that this was indeed a lap top and not one of the tablets on which the 10 Commandments was written,  Shane went in search of some help from a Tech guy from the Genius Bar (No, they don’t serve drinks there, I already asked).  After a few minutes of sitting quietly and checking my bank account (trying not to cry…then remembering that I am practicing The Secret method and that someone is going to give me a check for 1 million dollars soon) on my phone, Shane, Shawn, and Tech guy came to me with some answers.

Tech Guy: Your computer is using the 2nd operating system ever invented.  It’s the same software that Lincoln used to write the Gettysburg Address (he didn’t really say that…I just wanted to use Lincoln as a reference so I could tag him in this post and maybe get some more hits…Lincoln is doing for 2013 what little people, obesity, and Ke$ha did for 2012…Yes!  Now I can tag Ke$ha…)

Me:  I have no idea what that means.

Tech Guy:  It means that in order to transfer anything from your old computer to your new computer you would have to buy a set of disks to upgrade your operating system.  Unfortunately we haven’t made any of those disks since 2 Pac “died” (nailing it with celebrity tags!)

Me:  Ok.  I have no idea what that means.

Tech Guy:  Well, the quotations around the word “died” mean that it is rumored that 2 Pac didn’t really die, he just went into hiding.

Me:  Duh.  Everyone knows that.  What about my computer?

Tech Guy:  Right.  Well, you just need to buy an external hard drive, transfer each file onto the hard drive, and then transfer the files from the hard drive onto your new computer.

Me: I have no idea what that means.

Tech Guy: I know!  I know!  You stupid stupid girl.  That’s why your paying us $99!  So us smart guys can do really simple stuff for dumb girls and take their money.

Me: So, where did you say your grandmother went to Elementary school?

So, now I have to buy (my roommate John will look online, take my credit card, and buy) an external hard drive.  My goal: to take a class once a week so that I can become tech savvy and maybe figure out how to do some cool things with my blog here.  Oooh, maybe I can make it 3D!  But then how could I get those blue and red glasses out to all 10 of my readers (12 readers now that Shane and Shawn are on board…or they just said they would read it so I would buy more stuff.  Hmmm…).

A big thanks to Shane, Shawn (I’m so sorry I forgot your real name but you were very nice), and Tech Guy (who was not mean at all.  I just wanted to get better ratings.  No one rates this).

How many red headed sluts and blue kamikaze shots does one shot girl have to sell to buy an external hard drive?  I guess we’ll find out…


Day 12: The Vision Board…

Hey there adoring fans (Nancy Braun….sorry my post yesterday was dedicated to you but my phone auto-corrected your last name to Brain)!

So, as I said in my (shabbily written) post yesterday.  I’ve reread The Secret, by Linda Byrne.


You see, back in 2007, I read The Secret just like every other depressed middle age housewife (I was a 24 year old tap dancer) that saw the book featured on Oprah (because if it’s featured on Oprah it must be good… and be the perfect solution to my 24 year old problems… and might turn me into a fabulous black woman…with a billion dollars).  At that time, the book’s philosophy brought me all the things I wanted in my life.  Within 6 months I got: A hit Broadway show, a Broadway salary (which was the most money that I believed any one person could possibly make…until I opened my bedazzled eyes to realize there’s a great big world out of there full of people making a lot more money…you know, like people that interview celebrities and have 4 golden retrievers and audience give aways…oh wait…I’m back to Oprah again aren’t I?  Well, there’s tons of other people that make more money than Broadway chorus girls…without bum right knees…and health insurance…I digress….back to the list of things I got), a hot boyfriend, and a smokin’  bod.  I figured that since the world didn’t end and my blog is now about making my life a little better one day at a time, I would give the old Secret another shot.

Sarah’s basic understanding of The Secret Technique (please don’t sue me if my reading comprehension isn’t what it used to be…in the 4th grade….when public schools tested you on reading comprehension):

1.  The Law of Attraction: Act as if you already have whatever it is that you want and you will receive whatever it is that you want.

2.  Visualization: Visualize everything that you want to happen and it will happen to you.

3.  The Power of Positive Thinking: If you think about positive things then positive things will happen to you. If you think about negative things then negative things will then happen to you.

In order to go along with any of these ideas you definitely have to drink the Kool-Aid (side note: I had to explain to a fellow shot girl what the expression “drink the Kool-Aid” meant last night…you know, stuff you have to embrace when you’re the oldest living shot girl in Manhattan and all of your co-workers are too young to know of such cult suicides).  So, I’ve been testing out these 3 tactics for a few days now, and it’s kinda cool the s*it that can happen (either by my powerful positive brain…or mere coincidence).  I swear I made a D train come on the 59th street platform (by visualizing it) yesterday when I was running late to work.  And by using The Law of Attraction, I’ve been pretending that I have plenty of money (which we all know that I’m as rich as a common hobo) I got 2 really easy quick paying job opportunities (…no Mom…I’m not a stripper…jeesh).

So to keep up with my Secret-ness I have decided to create a vision board (barf all you want…I’m going to be rich and famous and hot)

Step 1

Buy a cork board preferably in a girly shape, ’cause you’re a girl dammit!

(Unless you’re a boy reading this post that is…then get a cork board in the shape of a giant penis)

vision 7

Step 2

Cut out inspiring sayings from your girly magazines (or gentlemanly magazines…whatever you hoodlums read is fine).

vision 6

Step 3

Download and cut out pictures of people, places, or things that inspire you,

like this pic of Carrie Bradshaw here.  Making enough money to afford that $4,000 outfit by typing on her computer a few times a week…hmmmm….

vision 5

Step 4

Find some pictures of you when you were really happy with the way you felt and looked.  Here’s me at the beach with Ruby…when I was 400lbs (10lbs) fewer…and had probably already drank 47 miller lites….those were the days.

PS: I also cut out this picture of Carrie Bradshaw’s bedroom (when she reclaimed her life after Mr. Big…douche) because that’s what I’m going to model my bedroom after.

vision 9

(side note: I printed that picture for my hot boyfriend that I mentioned earlier. I casually showed it to him (along with a bunch of other decoy pictures of course) hoping that he would ask if he could keep it, frame it, and put it up in his bedroom to admire everyday how hot and awesome I was…he did not…so now I just have this picture of me in a bikini while holding my dog and beveling hanging out in my apartment.  Time to put it to good use!)

Look how much fun vision board making can be!

vision 1

Now that you have your finished vision board…

vision 3

Yes.  That’s a picture of Ryan Reynolds in the corner.  Don’t judge me.  You ladies know what I’m talking about (and based on my readers…probably quite a few of you men do too).

You can move onto Step 5

Pick a spot on the wall to hang your vision board.  Somewhere you will see it every single day (just be sure to test it out first…so you don’t have to put 2 holes in your drywall because it was hanging too close to your closet…whoops).

vision 2

Now you’re all set!  Just make sure to look at it every day and really believe, drink the Kool-Aid!  (No, not literally drink Kool-Aid Megan.  Were you paying attention to anything I just said?  No, I’m not mad, just disappointed.  Why yes, you have sold a lot of red headed sluts tonight.  Good job!  Now run along) that those things are coming your way.  All you have to do is be positive…and maybe get your fat ass to the gym.

vision 10

Let’s see what happens if I look at this everyday for 66 days. Hopefully I will make out with Ryan Reynolds…not turn into him (yes, I know he’s married Mom…jeesh!)

Day 11: Your challenge, if you choose to accept it.

Hey there adoring fans (Nancy Brain)!

The challenge:
To write a post in the 9 minutes between restaurant job #1 and restaurant job #2…on your dumbphone (the dumb version of the smartphone) because although you brought your brand new computer with you to use at starbucks, the internet is slow that it wasn’t worth it to carry around in your makeshift case…


Which are fleece sweatpants that your friend Erin made you in college…


Oh Crap!  Running out of time. And why does my phone always autocorrect Crap with a capital C!

Rats!  3 MIN!  Why that is capitalized I don’t no.  I mean know.  Crap Sarah you’re running out of time!  Anywho…today I reread The Secret…


And wrote myself a fake check for a million dollars…


After I had googled how many zeros were in one million dollars…stupid degree in jazz dance…


Will explain more tomorrow.  Gotta go!  Sorry for the typos!

Ps: hi Lucas!

Day 5: O is for Oh my god I have to get my s*it together….

Hey there adoring fans (Jessica Pack)!

Have you ever had one of those days where you realize that your life is not going in the direction you want?   Well maybe it’s going in the direction that you wanted for the last 20 years but all of a sudden it doesn’t seem quite as fulfilling as it did before?  And then you realize that in order to change the path your going down, you should probably have a panic attack and decide you need to change everything about yourself all at once and then drink a bottle of wine and start googling things like:

“How to make a living out of the things that you love to do.”

“How to take a break from Musical Theatre (that you’ve spent your entire adult life focussing on) and not feel bad about it.”

“How to start living less like a teenage slob and more like a 30 year old woman”

“How to come to terms with the fact that you are probably going to die alone…well not completely alone if you’re surrounded by 27 ferrets…(but then realize that you’re a strong independent woman and you don’t need anyone to make your life complete… until you start watching movies like The Notebook and Sweet Home Alabama…and then you google ‘Top 27 cute ferret names'”

“How to write a screenplay.”

“How to get some damned health insurance (and maybe some dental while your at it because that back left molar feels weird and looks a little grey.)”

“How to lose 10lbs”

“How to NOT drink 2 bottles of wine every night (except Saturdays, cause that’s when you drink a dozen Corona’s and Jack Daniel’s shots…at work…which is probably not helping you lose 10lbs you fat moron).”

“How to save enough money so that you can afford this new shiny computer that you financed, be a bridesmaid in your best friend’s wedding (who is getting married in Illinois this summer and the dress alone costs $211), and I don’t know, save for retirement because ferret food is expensive.”

All of these thoughts came rushing at me like an angry mob carrying pitchforks and those big sticks where the ends of them are lit on fire …torches!…that’s the word I’m looking for, torches!… on January 4th, the day after I turned 30.  Over the last few days, I’ve calmed myself down (xanax) and come to terms with the fact that although I have a ton of new aspirations, my life is pretty good right now, and I’ll be ok if I don’t get everything done in one day.  It’s time for some baby steps.  I read in an Anthony Robbins book once, Awaken the Giant Within,  (whatever, I read self-help books sometimes, well, I start self-help books and get about half way through before I get bored and start drinking wine sometimes) that…if you do something to better your life every single day, your life is gonna, duh, get better*! I also came across this quote in a women’s magazine (I don’t remember which one, “Self”, “Women’s Health”,  “Eat Right and Workout you idiot so you can stop buying all of these magazines because they all say the same thing  just in different colored fonts”, that said “it takes 66 days to form a habit**”  which I think is really poignant given the name of my beloved blog here.

 So that’s what the new Sixty-six days of Sarah is about.  Each day I will try to do something to better my life and hopefully 66 days will go by and I will acquire myself a nice little habit and an even nicer little life…smiley face!


*that Tony Robbins quote isn’t really a quote because I didn’t feel like looking it up, but I’m pretty sure he said that….minus the “duh”.

**says Professor Jane Wardle, of University College London, who carried out the study with Dr Phillippa Lally.

Day 1: Why is thirty so dirty?


Hey there adoring fans (Alan Weeks and Valentine Sheldon)!

So here it is.  The big day (Not December 21st when the world was going to maybe explode…but a different big day).  It’s  January 3rd 2013.  And around 4 pm on January 3rd 1983, little Sarah was born…


which makes me…..30!!!

(dun dun dun..!)

Which means I’m getting farther and farther from this…

old clueless


And getting closer and closer to becoming this…


old daisy 2

So far I feel fantastic (probs because of the 2nd Blue Moon Winter Abbey Ale that my roommate’s sublet left in the fridge after moving out…happy birthday to me…what?  it’s after 4…I don’t have a problem…stop judging me…it’s my birthday…you have to be nice to me…even if you’re just a theoretical voice in my head).  So far this week I’ve already taken a few steps into adulthood.  I am currently waiting for the UPS man (or woman…I’m no racist) to deliver my new computer which I will be responsible for paying off over the next 12 months, I’ve flossed everyday this week (even after getting off work at 4 in the morning when I’m really really “tired”), and I started using the flat sheet that came with the set of sheets that my mom gave me for Christmas (I’ve never used the flat sheet before because I was like “Why do you need that thing when you already have a blanket and that other sheet with the elastic that I could never figure out how to fold until I watched that youtube video on how to fold fitted sheets.  The flat sheet just gets all crumpled up at the bottom of the bed anyway.  It’s stupid!” but now I’m learning to embrace it…like a grownup).

Now, I’m off to eat my favorite dinner (Outback Steakhouse Cheese Fries) but need to stop by the “drug store” (that’s what old people call Duane Reades…which is what New Yorkers call Rite Aids) to pick up a few essentials for my elderly needs…

Just a little candy to keep in my pockets…

old lifesavers

An individual pack of kleenex to keep balled up in my pocket and use over and over again…
old kleen


A life alert (just in case)



And probably some “healthy weight” dog food.

Because Ruby is getting…



fatty fatty no friends

PS: You should note that when I saved this picture to my computer I titled it, “Fatty Fatty No Friends”

Today is for fun…tomorrow is finally time to start a new chapter in life with new goals.  I hope you all will join me in the journey (that sounds queer…and by queer I mean cheesy…not gay…does queer mean gay anymore?  Oh what do I know, I’m just an old lady trying to keep up with the times…Now tell those teeny boppers in the apartment below me to keep that racket down…I’m trying to watch my stories.)