In a League of My Own

Yay! It's Friday! I love Fridays, as you should all be aware. I really don't have anything planned, besides work, but it's still exciting to know that the weekend is coming up. The forecast from my Android is that it should be sunny and in the sixties all weekend, which is decent. I can definitely handle that. I'll probably go for a couple walks to get this body in motion.

That's totally what I am going to look like by the end of the summer!

Winter sure does make a girl not want to walk anywhere! I don't even want to leave the house in the winter if I can avoid it, but the promise of summer brings with it a whole new attitude. I want to venture out into the world and do stuff. Go for walks, ride a bike, get some sun, and this year I will also be stealing bases as the coolest member of Zingerman's softball team.

We will be competing as part of Ann Arbor's restaurant league beginning in May, and I am really excited! I am totally anticipating to be a complete and utter failure at the sport, but it will be a blast! I love my coworkers, so anything I do with them is a guaranteed good time.

And who knows? Maybe I won't be such an utter failure afterall. Maybe I will be up to bat in the bottom of the ninth during our championship game. The score will be tied 9-9. The bases will be loaded and Zingerman's will have two outs. I'll step up to the plate, knock the dirt off my kleats with the bottom of my league-approved metal bat, and assume my position. The bat will rock back and forth behind my ear as I prepare for the pitch. My brows will furrow and sweat will drip from my forehead, stinging as the salty secretion enters my eyes. I don't blink. I need to have visual contact on the ball at all times. Eyes on the ball, eyes on the ball is the mantra that plays repeatedly in my head.

I have blocked out the cheers from the crowd that I enjoyed while making my way to the plate, “Sarah, Sarah, Sarah...” Though I am flattered by their enthusiastic acknowledgement of my shear awesomeness, I can not succumb to vanity at the moment. I am here for one thing and one thing only; to annihlate the competition.

The less awesome pitcher from Applebee's (or some other restaurant in the Ann Arbor area that is way less awesome than Zingerman's) prepares for the pitch. She's winding up. I lean back. She release's the ball. Wait for it. As the ball approaches just the right distance from me (acccording my calculations and superior depth perception) I begin to lean forward using all my body weight and swing toward the ball.

Metal bat against leather ball is all I can hear. It takes off like a lightening bolt, right down the middle. I run like a bat out of hell, using my superior Darby thigh muscles to catapult me around first base and toward second. The ball is nowhere in sight, so I round second and make a beeline for third. Third baseman is still waiting impatiently for the ball as I round his base and head towards home.

Home. I'm almost there. I get a sudden surge of speed as I dig my kleats into the ground, lower my head, and dart towards home. The ball is near! I can see the anticipation in the eyes of the catcher! Am I going to make it? I'm going to have to slide. I lean to the side, allow my self to drift toward the ground, and brace myself for impact.

I've made it home, but where's the ball? Did I make it? Where's the ball?!

Ok, so I stole most of that from the most epic scene in A League of Their Own...

...which is one of my favorite movies, but it could totally happen! 

Where's the ball? I don't know, you will just have to stay tuned to Discovering Sarah during the months of May, June, and July to find out how the story goes.

However it ends, I'm sure the season will be one to remember, and I can't wait to share the experience with all my readers!

Have a great weekend everyone! Check me out next week!

Writer's Corner: Noah Lukeman

It's Thursday Discovering Sarah readers! April showers bring May flowers, and if the the past few days is any indication, Ann Arbor should look like the Garden of Eden by next month.

Yesterday was exciting for me, because I attended my first writer's group meeting! It was a lot of fun to listen to other authors present their work. There is so much I can learn from other talented writers and I am so happy to have the opportunity to perfect my craft with people who are just as committed to perfecting their craft as I am.

In 2009, when I began writing my first novel, I read a book called “The First Five Pages” written by Noah Lukeman, which gave me a lot of insight on what editors are looking for when reading submissions. He said that editors are most likely not going to read a whole manuscript if the first five pages aren't strong. In actuality, it doesn't even take that long to know whether or not someone is a strong writer.

He is 100% correct about that! I once exchanged chapters with a man who claimed to be a writer, and I could tell from the title of the piece that it was going to be horrid. I couldn't get past the first few words let alone the first five pages! It was like watching the beginning of a season of American Idol when most of the people are completely tone deaf, yet convinced that their singing abilities are on point.

Mr. Lukeman points out several things that writers do which would make an editor reject them without reading much of their work. I find his insight into the publishing industry extremely helpful when writing my own novel, and also while listening to the writing of other members in the group.

My advice for the day? If you are serious about writing and would like to one day begin submitting your work to agents and publishers, “The First Five Pages” by Noah Lukeman is a must-read for you.

That's it for today's Writer's Corner. Hope you all have a great Thursday, I will be hard at work on my novel, which I've been seriously neglecting lately. I will have the opportunity to read one of my own pieces at the next group meeting, so I will let you all know how that goes. Hopefully, they won't chew me up and spit me out! Oh, the horror!

Other books by Noah Lukeman:

• The First Five Pages
• A Dash of Style
• The Plot Thickens
• How to Write a Great Query Letter
• How to Land (and keep) a Literary Agent
• Ask a Literary Agent (year one)

The House of the Rising Son

Happy Easter everyone! Hope you all had a wonderful day yesterday! It was sunny and beautiful here in Ann Arbor, and I spent the day writing (of course).

Today is Poetry Monday, and (with yesterday being the Holiday and all) I thought it appropriate to write an Easter poem. Easter is a holiday that really brings back childhood memories for me. I remember searching for Easter baskets and going to church (back when we actually went to church as a family). I remember being dressed up, wearing big Easter hats, and running around our church, playing with the other children.

As I sat down to write this poem I instantly fell back into my 5 year old mindset. As a result, this piece has a voice that I think is hilarious. It was really fun to write, and I hope you enjoy it!

Easter Stories

By: Sarah Lenore

I wore the dress with frills and lace

Shirley's curls flopped in my face

We went to church to get some grace

I think Jesus lives in that place

I've never seen him, but he's there

He shines up all the shoes I wear

And makes the ribbons for my hair

He's there when people show they care

We sing some hymns, and I sing loud

Cuz when you sing, you must sing proud

Don't hide your feelings in a crowd

God wants his praise with heads unbowed

After church we hunt some eggs

Can't run too fast, got tiny legs

I look inside the flower beds

Cuz that's where bunnies lay their eggs

At dinner time we sit and eat

I see a plate with lots of meat

My mom cooked it with lots of heat

We sure got lots and lots to eat!

It's time for baths and time for bed

There's lots of yawns stuck in my head

Mom looks through all the books I've read

But tells stories bout God instead

She tells about Him and His son

And how Jesus became the one

Who saved my mom and everyone

From sins that couldn't be undone

It wasn't us who did the sins

But we would have to make amends

Cuz through them we all came to live

We're stuck in this predicament

First He died and then He rose

This was the life that He had chose

To show us how we should behold

God's mighty works from on his throne

So every year on Easter Day

We go to church, we sit, we pray

We thank God for the son he gave

To rise up from his sinless grave

Spotlight on Homelessness: Dave's Story

“For anybody to do something extraordinary, I think you have to experience a deep personal loss. The kind of loss that sets a fire inside you. Passion is the combination of love and anger.” -Dave

Hello again Discovering Sarah readers! As I mentioned earlier, today I am posting two blogs entries. Spotlight on Homelessness is my second entry for the day.

My reason for focusing on homelessness in my blog is to give a face to the word homeless. According to a 2009 Annual Homeless Assessment Report to Congress, as many as 3.5 million Americans experience homelessness in a given year; the word homeless being defined as the lack of a permanent, safe and affordable night-time residence. Approximately 1 in 50 of those Americans are children.

What better way to bring a face to homelessness than by introducing people to individuals I have encountered through my personal experience with this issue. One of those individuals graciously offered to let me interview him for my blog. He is a 42 year old man named David who does not want to be defined by the word homeless.

David considers himself a displaced worker. He had enjoyed a successful career in real estate before the housing bubble popped, spewing disaster all over real estate agents, homeowners, loan companies, and pretty much anyone that had anything to do with home ownership at the time.

Like many others affected by the housing collapse, David lost his job, his car, his home, and found himself squatting in abandoned buildings with other Bohemian types (as he calls them) whom he'd met on the beaches of Miami. He didn't feel comfortable living in shelters, not sure whether he could trust the individuals he would find there.

In January of 2010, he decided to return to his home state of Michigan and attend school for Entrepreneurship. He'd had a burning idea for a virtual real estate business, and hoped a background in entrepreneurship would help him turn what was a just an idea into a reality. He soon realized that he wasn't gaining the kind of knowledge in school that he'd hoped would help him with his business plans, so he deserted his college plan and decided to strike out on his own.

It's never easy going against the grain and trying to create a business, especially when all you have in your bank account is $16. It's like Oprah says though, “Do what you love and the money will follow”. She would know, right? 

So, that's what Dave is doing; following his dreams and doing what he loves. He's got no money, no car, and has been relying on the shelter system for nine months. One thing he does have, though, is an idea that he believes is going to mean everything for his future. He drives a Yellow Cab to to help save toward his goal of reaching permanent housing. His immediate plan to obtain housing is to purchase a distressed home and reside in it while he makes home improvements.

On his days off from driving cabs, Dave is working on his real estate business, and searching for a partner to form an LLC with. In the not so distant future, he would like to see himself residing in San Francisco at the helm of a booming business that is ready to take on luxury properties. His real dream, however, is to work in the entertainment industry.

Dave developed a screenplay based on his experiences squatting in Florida entitled “Squatter’s Paradise”. It's a story about a guy who makes a few bad decisions and loses everything, but eventually gains it all back. He says it is a story of persistence, having a belief in your talents and abilities, and never giving up.

Although Dave has lost a lot, he feels a greater passion inside himself than ever before. Like the character in his screenplay, he is determined to never give up on his dreams. Who knows? Maybe one day I will be blogging about an Academy Award winning movie called “Squatter's Paradise”. As long as that fire keeps burning inside him, anything is possible.

Writer's Corner: Writer's Block?

Writer's Corner:

It's not writer's block, it's emotional avoidance of the topic at hand.

Happy Hump Day!!!!! I hope everyone is having a lovely work week! If not, then it's halfway over, so try not to fret. It will soon be Friday! Yay!

The weather is not so ideal in Michigan right now. Last week I was tasting summer and now I'm just tasting the corned beef sandwich that I am so siked to be eating right now. Zingerman's feeds me, and I really love them for that, cuz their food is the bomb!

Umm...yummy!

Once again, due to my lack of internet access, I was unable to post a blog entry yesterday. Happily, that means I will be posting two entries today! Yay!

So, it's writer's corner day on Discovering Sarah, and I would like to discuss a little issue I am having with writing one of my novels. The Rhesus Monkey Experience is a difficult novel to at times, because it involves subject matter that is emotionally difficult for me tackle. My initial instinct is not to think about it. Push it to the back of my mind. Just avoid the issue altogether. That is how I have made it through the majority of the past year without completely losing my marbles.

I wrote nine chapters in less than a month before coming to a necessary part in the story that I was not emotionally ready to deal with. Most people would probably consider this writer's block, but it doesn't really feel like that to me. Isn't writer's block that thing where you stare at a blank page for hours, unable to figure out what comes next in the plot. Typing and untyping every line, because nothing seems right? Yeah, that doesn't happen to me often. I am somehow able to spew words onto the digital page for hours at a time.

My problem feels completely different. I already know how the story goes. I've lived through it. I'm still living through the aftermath of the experience. It's just that it took months for me the get to a place where I could even think about it, let alone write about it. Anyone who knows me at all should know that I would have to be severely emotionally traumatized to get to the point where I can't talk about what is bothering me. Most of the time, you can't shut me up! My mouth flows like the Niagara, venting every uncomfortable or exciting feeling to the point that my friends need a poncho just to stand within ten feet of my emotional rain storm.

No, it's not writer's block, it's this thing I like to call writer's emotional avoidance of the topic at hand. Unfortunately, the thing about avoiding topics that are absolutely necessary to finishing a novel is that you will never finish your novel!

I am definitely committed to finishing my novel, so I've made a writing schedule. I've set aside a few days a week to work on that project. Even if I complete one sentence, that's progress. I am also aware that it may take therapy (Oy!) for me to be ready to tackle this issue, and I also realize that this particular novel covers events in my life that are still happening now. I don't even know how the darn thing is going to end yet! That's kinda weird really.

So, I'm writing and waiting, waiting and writing. In the meantime, I am diving into other projects that are not as traumatic, but just as exciting. I began a series of novels in 2009, which I think will be epic! I am writing my blog, I am writing poems, I have a couple short stories in the works, I am writing as much as possible and feeling stronger and happier every day. My writing is part of the therapeutic process.

As frustrating as it is to feel my creative flow being blocked by such negative emotions, I feel like everything that is happening in my life right now is for a reason. I'm not in control of anything. You know how people in church tell you to just let go and rely on God? “God will provide,” they say before providing proof via scripture (Mathew 6:26). I never was able to jump on board with that line of thinking.

God is not going to pay my rent, I thought. Perhaps that's true, but I have to say that I've never spent a single night on the street. I've always had clothes to wear, and so much food to eat that I was worried more about going on a diet than where my next meal was coming from. Even when living in West Willow with no refrigerator, no stove, no friends, and no money, I never went hungry. Strangers were offering me food, money, and rides on a daily basis.

The events of the past year seemed to allow me to let go of control to a point where I was able to be lead more easily. I stopped trying to force things to happen the way I thought they should happen, or to do what other people wanted me to do. I gave up on everything, and in the process found a new direction. There is only one pair of footsteps in the sand, and I'm pretty sure they're not my own.

So I'm being patient, and I'm confident that things will work out for me exactly the way it's supposed to, and I won't even have to force it. Though, it will take work, along with blood, sweat, and tears I'm sure.

One thing I'm sure of? Life will provide an ending to my story. I'm just along for the ride.

Phone Games

Ooh it's Monday! Ooh, Ooh it's Monday! Wooooooooo!

Oh, sorry. Let me step out of cheerleader mode for just a minute...

OK I'm good. Today is Poetry Monday and I am at Zingerman's hard at work checking orders, corrugating glass, packing orders, and probably making a few mistakes that will be caught further down the line. Just kidding, I never make mistakes! =)

“If I owned Photoshop, I would totally put a halo around my head, but I have faith in my reader's ability to imagine the halo for their selves. Can you see it? Good, let's proceed.”

Anywayz, my entry for today is an original poem entitled “Phone Games”. This piece was inspired by a certain guy who was really into me when we saw each other in person, but did not seem to know how to operate the call function on his cellular device when we were apart. As most poems do, this one took on a life of its own and quickly became about more than just this one guy whose phone operating deficiencies almost gave me a heart attack.

I hope you enjoy it! I'd love to hear your comments, and please remember to become a follower of my blog! I am now up to nineteen followers and am well on my way to getting 90 followers by July 2^nd! If I reach this goal, I will be raffling off a gift certificate to one of my followers. So, please help me get as many as possible!

And now, for the poem of the day!

Phone Games

By: Sarah Lenore

I don't understand

Games that come from a man

When one day you're hot

Tryin to touch on my spot

And the next day you're cold

Like you're really not sold

On how you once felt

When you told me I smelled

Just like Heaven to you

Cuz that's how I do

Buy that scent from VS

Have guys tryin their best

To make me want them

But they'll never win

Cuz they came wit no swag

Carrying too many bags

Addicted to things

Or wearing a ring

If they wore it at all

You know how they ball

Gotta girl that's their bride

And a chick on the side

But the wifey, she knows

About all of his hoes

She's just hopin one day

He'll grow outta his phase

And in time he will be

Not just a daddy

But a really good man

Who gives her a hand

Through this journey of life

Filled with sadness and strife

And return to the day

When he did not play

Silly games on the phone

Cuz his love, it was shown

Through attention he paid

And the calls that he made

To the number ingrained

Inside of his brain

He called it so much

That it kinda stuck

He wanted to hear

From the one he held dear

She was close to his heart

Even when torn apart

From each other by time

She stayed on his mind

It went on this way

Until on that day

He made her his wife

The vow was for life

But for fifty percent

Vows don't make a dent

Cuz when he begins

Playing phone games again

She knows somethings up

Their marriage is corrupt

All because he

Lacked the courtesy

Of not playing games

Like so many lames

Who don't have the balls

To stop screening their calls

Meet The Brown

It's Thursday everyone, which is a fun day for me on Discovering Sarah, because I get to rant! Woohoo! Ranting is the bestest! It's like free therapy, which we all need on occasion (if you say you don't need therapy, you are probably the #1 person who needs therapy).

Anyway, the topic of the day is Chris Brown.

Mr. Brown, WTF is wrong with you?! Were you abused as a child? Did your daddy hit your mommy? Were you not breastfed as a baby? Are you a Taurus? Why are you so angry? I loved you so much when you first arrived on the scene, and (to be honest) I still do. It's kind of a guilty pleasure. You have ruined my ability to listen to your music with a clear conscience.

It is not OK to beat your girlfriend! Even if she is the aggressor. Just walk away, for the love of Pete! It is not OK to throw chairs through the windows of dressing rooms, cuz you were trying to release some frustration. Punch a pillow, write a song, go for a walk, get some booty...

...not that booty! Pirate's booty! Geez you guys have a dirty mind.

IDK, I'm not a psychiatrist, but I know there's gotta be better avenues to release a little steam than the ones you're going down.

Chris, you are a role model. You are a cute, young, black man in America. Can you at least try to set a good example for our youths? They need you. We need you.

OK, so this kid isn't exactly black, but do you know how hard it is to find a black child wrapped in the American flag? It's actually kind of disheartening.

I would love to live in a world where I could appreciate the gyrations of a man that is way too young for me without a heavy heart. You were Runnin It hard in the music industry before you started Poppin Rhianna in the face. That was horrible, but now you've both said Dueces to your relationship. You don't have to relive that experience Forever. When people are trying to Take You Down, just Crawl from Wall to Wall until you find a way to get back up. There are lots of Beautiful People who would love to be With You and get a little Kiss Kiss. You just need to Transform yourself and say “Yo, Excuse Me Miss”.

It'll happen for you. No Bullshit Chris. You're not Superhuman, but I'm sure if you learn to Say Goodbye to your anger, you will one day be able to smile at all your adoring fans and yell, “Look at Me Now!”

Writer's Corner: Inspiration

Happy Wednesday everyone! As you may have noticed, I have posted two blogs today. My lack of internet access at home prevented me from blogging yesterday, so please check out both articles today. As always, I would love to know what you think. 

Today's Writer's Corner is about inspiration, but before I get into that I would just like to say thank you to everyone who has followed my blog and visited my site. I have received over 1,000 hits and I am thrilled! Judging by the amount of traffic to my blog, I would say there are a lot of you out there who are reading, but are not yet following me. I beseech you all (I totally stole that word, beseech,  from The Tudors) to follow my blog and encourage your friends to follow as well.

Remember, I am trying to reach 90 followers in 90 days, and I will be raffling off a gift card to one of my Discovering Sarah followers if I reach this goal! So follow me, pretty please...

...with a cherry on top!

 Alright, that's enough begging. Now for the the good stuff. Please enjoy today's Writer's Corner article on inspiration.

Inspiration
By: Sarah Lenore

I can remember the very first time I wrote something that I thought was special. It was in seventh grade and Mrs. Katz was teaching English Composition. The topic: dramatic structure. The assignment: write a short story using Freytag's analysis; exposition, rising action, climax, falling action, and denouement.

I loved that word—denouement. It sounded so provocative; so French.

I sat down to write my story (which turned out to be 30 pages long) and completely amazed myself. I didn't know I could be so creative! I didn't know I was capable of writing something that seemed as thick as a real book when transferred from the computer screen to the printed page. I had created a masterpiece! I was up there with Michelangelo, Leonardo Davinci, Donatello, and that other Teenaged Mutant Ninja Turtle.

Of course, upon further analysis in later years, I realized that my masterpiece was actually 30 pages of never ending crappy dialogue spewed from the mouths of clueless teenagers. I wasn't even a teenager yet, and had no idea about anything at that age. Still, I have cherished my horribly written story for about 17 years now, and have revisited it several times. I completely rewrote it, keeping the core plot intact, and it resides in a file on my laptop to this day.

One day, (ideally after my first book is published) I will finish it, and my journey from seventh grade English class to published author will be complete.

After creating The Haven in seventh grade, I began to write poetry, which I found to be a wonderful emotional outlet for me. When I was feeling something that I just couldn't keep bottled up, I would write a poem about it.

Though I continued to write into adulthood, I never really thought of myself as a writer or poet. It was just something that I enjoyed on occasion. It wasn't until April of 2009, however, that I was bit with the writing bug and knew without a doubt that I wanted to be a writer.

Now, I know some of you will be yelling at your computer screens when I tell you this, but it was actually Stephenie Meyer's Twilight novels that inspired me to pursue writing as a profession.

Sparkly vampires, shape shifting Native American guys with six packs, and a love that survives against all odds; what's not to like? I enjoyed the novels, to say the least, devouring them all in eight days. Though, it really wasn't the actual story that inspired me so much. It was Stephenie herself.

She had been a Mormon housewife with three children and a BA in English, but never thought of herself as a writer. After a memorable dream involving two star crossed lovers laying in a meadow, she decided to write a book. Six months later, she was the published author of a franchise that eventually made her one of the most notable authors of our day (right up there with J.K. Rowling). Not to mention, she made a fortune off of those books!

I was inspired, to say the least. Not just by her ability to make a ton of money, but by the fact that she'd managed to turn one little dream into something that has impacted millions of people around the world.

Instantly, I knew I wanted to do the same thing. Maybe not quite on the level of a Stephenie Meyer or J.K. Rowling, but I wanted to make my mark on the world with my words.

At this point in my life, inspiration is all I have; like a tiny grain of sand that has the power to change everything. Maybe one day, some little girl will randomly come across my blog or read my book and be inspired to make her dreams a reality, against all odds. If J.K. Rowling can bring wizards to life with a flick of her wand, and Stephenie can make millions of teenaged girls and grown women fall in love with a fictional vampire, anything is possible.

Spotlight on Homelessness: The Face of Homelessness

It's always interesting when people say to me, “You don't look homeless”. I guess that's a compliment, but it leaves me wondering, “What does homelessness look like?” Perhaps when people hear that word they are picturing a shaggy bearded man who hasn't showered in weeks, sleeping under a freeway overpass, and making a living by holding a cardboard sign that reads, “Will Work For Food”.

The fact is, homelessness does not have a look, but it does have many faces. An orphaned child suddenly becomes an adult, and his foster parents no longer feel responsible for him. A single mother has spent years fighting against poverty, but has recently lost the battle. A Big Three employee has assembled the hottest cars for years, but was laid off after training the replacement that will do his job for a third of his salary. A college graduate who is up to her ears in tuition loans, but can't find a job for more than minimum wage because her field is no longer in demand.

Sudden illness, death in the family, mental illness, addiction, outsourcing, the popping of the real estate bubble, and natural disaster are just a few of the reasons why one may find themselves sleeping in a commercial facility with several strangers; each with a story to tell.

Of course, I have run into plenty of the stereotypical types, as well; winos hanging around the Blake Transit Center in Ann Arbor--old hippies with beards down to their belly buttons, bottle caps clipped in their hair, and memories of Woodstock clinging to the forefront of their minds. You can usually smell them as they enter the cafeteria doors at the Delonis Center looking for a free meal before they return to their homey tent in Ann Arbor's Tent City.

Some people have a way of living that is different, but comfortable for them. Perhaps it's the only existence their addiction or debilitating mental illness will allow. Perhaps their ideals force them to reject the accepted norms of society and search out a simpler, less convoluted lifestyle.

My exposure to the world of homelessness has made me curious about people and their circumstances. What brought them to this point in their lives. What are their hopes and dreams, or did they stopping dreaming a long time ago? Each week I will try to shine my Spotlight on the individual faces of homelessness. How did we get here? Where do we go from here? Is this it? Is this the life we will lead until our creator decides we have walked this planet long enough?

I can't tell you how many people I have seen overdose, pray for God to end their suffering, or threaten to end their own lives. This life is hard for all of us, homeless or not, and we all have a story to tell. We have family somewhere. We have experiences that are ours and ours alone. We have lives that mean something, even when the scene of our meager existence is set in Tent City.

Maybe my purpose is to tell these stories, one by one, face by face, so that we are not so invisible anymore; so that people know who we are, where we came from, how we are still managing to fight for our lives though we are drowning in the middle of the ocean with nothing but a slowly sinking plank of wood to hang on to.

I will do the job I have been called to do. I will serve my purpose. Are you ready to listen?

Shout Out to all My Friends!

Happy Monday everyone! This weekend was gorgeous in Ann Arbor! Summer is so close, I can almost taste it.

(yum...tastes like strawberry ice cream)

Hopefully, everyone was able to enjoy their weekend (I know I did), but I'm happy it's Monday cuz I get to post another blogtastic blog entry!

Before I get into that, I would first like to apologize for not posting a vlog on Friday. I just purchased my new phone and had some technical difficulties posting from it. Hopefully those issues will get worked out this week, and I will be able to begin vlogging on Friday!

Anyhoo, poetry is the theme of the day, and I promised my friend and super awesome co-worker that I would write a poem dedicated to her. She was my very first blog follower and I totally appreciate her support and enthusiasm for my writing! Karynn is made of awesome juice, and I feel so fortunate to have met her as well as the rest of the crew at Zingerman's Mail Order. I have only been employed with ZMO since December, but everyone there already feels like family to me.

This poem was written with Karynn in mind, but it reflects how I feel about all my friends and co-workers. Love you guys!

Making true friends

In this crazy life

Is like finding a husband

Or a good wife.

When one comes along

And rarely they do

They will show you how much

They appreciate you

They'll tell you you're smart

Or that you're amazing

They'll tell you you're beautiful

And set your heart blazing

The most important thing

A good friend will do

Is tell you sincerely

How much they love you

I'm writing this poem

With good friends in mind

Who follow my blog

But don't lag behind

They're blazing the trail

Toward our destinies

And showing how great

A true friend can be

Stay away from that Charlie Sheen!!!

It's Thursday, everyone, and what is the best part of Thursday? Friday comes after it, and that's my favorite day of the week!

This Friday is going to be extra special for me, because I will be purchasing my new HTC phone.

Hallelujah!!!

Having a smartphone is going to make blogging much, much easier for me, because right now I have no WIFI connection at my house. Argh!!!! So annoying.

I have been bribing my friend to take me to Starbuck's everyday so I can run in, post my blog really quickly, and run out. To have the luxury of sitting at home with unlimited access to the internet will be beauteous. I will be an unstoppable force!

"What are you doing tonight Sarah?"
"Same thing I do every night; try to take over the world!"

I digress...

Anyway, today I would like to voice my humble opinion about someone who has made himself a very popular topic of discussion in the past month or so...

Charlie Sheen

Oh Mr. Sheen. Smh, where do I begin? It must be awesome to live in an alternate universe, where the only word you seem to understand is WINNING! On the surface, I can see how you would feel like you're a big fat winner. You have met all the criteria our society uses to judge success in life:

• Fame
• Fortune
• Big mansion
• Hot cars
• Beautiful women
• A hit television show
• A famous family

What more could a guy ask for right? I'm sure you feel like your ability to indulge in a substance that most people consider a “rich man's drug” just further supports your idea that you're totally winning, and everyone else is losing.

Well Mr. Sheen, I've never been an addict, but I would wager a guess that most people don't become addicted to drugs because they are super happy with their lives. You have fallen prey to the same false belief that many people share; that money and glutenous indulgence in all things physically satisfying will bring them happiness. However, when those people finally reach that ultimate level of indulgence, they are left wondering, “Now what? Where do I go from here?”. It's part of the human condition.

I actually feel bad for you Charlie. The publicity you are receiving right now may be good for your career (which says something about our society). Sold out shows and such. I'm sure you're thinking “Who needs a network television show? I'm a stand up comedian now!”.

You are a hot mess, Charlie! People are just lining up to watch you implode, and after you do they won't care anymore.

You are obviously searching desperately for love and affection, or you wouldn't be continuously getting married and remarried, popping out babies, and trying to prove to everybody that you're a winner. Hopefully one day, you will get yourself together and find what you are really looking for; absolute acceptance of who you are, and a happy loving family to grow old with.

Until then, I'm going to tell you like my Bible thumping friend (who actually attempted to bless me by smacking me over the head with a Bible) told me, “For the love of God, tighten up!”.

Writer's Corner

Happy hump day everyone!

As some of you may be aware, I was recently fortunate enough to be blessed with a laptop computer from a friend of mine at the Telluride House in Ann Arbor.

Every year the Telluride House awards scholarships for free room and board to select University of Michigan students. As a condition of the scholarship each student is required to give back by spending time volunteering in the community. One of the many ways the students have chosen to give back is by offering free University of Michigan concert tickets to Delonis Center residents.

Many of the residents had never experienced attending the symphony, or a piano recital, or a classical jazz ensemble before. Pretty much anyone who attended the concerts really enjoyed the opportunity to do something out of the ordinary and take their minds off of job searches, living with no income, depression, or whatever else might have been weighing heavily on their shoulders.

I, lover of music that I am, attended every concert I could possibly attend. It was at the classical jazz outing that I had the privilege of meeting “The Three Michaels”, who (as the phrase implies) were three guys named Michael who all lived at the house. Before every concert, the volunteers would take us to the Panera Bread on campus to treat us to a free meal as well as lively conversation.

Those guys are bursting with hilarity, I tell you!

It was during one of these discussions that I enthusiastically announced a writing project I was working on about my experience in a shelter and what has led me to this point in my life. One of the Michaels (African Michael as I like to call him) randomly sent me an email one day asking me if it would be easier for me to write my novel if I had a laptop.

Umm...let me think...drag my butt to the library everyday, flash drive in hand, praying that my semi dysfunctional brain doesn't somehow loose all my documents

VS

Have my own portable computer with my documents saved on the hard drive AND on my flash drive?

I think my answer went a little something like, “OMG! Thank you so much! That is really generous of you! Oh wow! Now I won't have to go to the library! Thank you, thank you, thank you! Thanks again!” Needless to say, I was immensely thankful that he would think of me in that way.

The idea of resurrecting my blog actually came to me because I felt that the least I could do after receiving the most generous gift I have ever received in my life was to keep all the Michaels, as well as everyone else at the Telluride House, updated on my writing progress.

So, with that thought in mind, I decided to specifically dedicate Wednesday as a day to share snippets of my writing, and discuss things that frustrate or excite me about whatever project I am working on at the time.

A couple weeks ago a coworker said to me, “Sarah, you're a really strong person. I can't believe that after everything you're going through you still manage to come to work laughing and smiling. I don't know how you do it!”.

That comment surprised me, because I have never before felt as weak as I have during this past year. Yet, others still seem to view me as a pillar of strength. Sitting at my computer, I began writing a meditation about this subject that I would like to share in my first Writer's Corner blog entry.

As with every entry, I would love to hear your thoughts on this piece. Enjoy!

Strength

By: Sarah Lenore

.

What does it really mean when people tell me I'm strong? I hear it a lot, but I'm not convinced. What does it mean? That despite all the adversity I am still here? That I haven't jumped off a bridge or died of a sudden aneurysm caused by all the stress in my life? I'm not sure the fact that I'm still breathing makes me a strong person. Isn't that an function of the autonomic nervous system?

I actually feel like a hamster on a wheel, running as fast as I can but getting nowhere. It seems as if I achieve just as much running as I do standing still. What a conundrum!

I suspect that strength is not to be found while living life like a caged rodent trying desperately to work off the calories from the food pellets it just ate. The secret must be to get off the wheel and live life outside of the box and see where that takes me.

Problem is, I have been trying my whole life to figure out how to get off that damn wheel! Sure, it's easy in a hamster cage. You step off the cold metal onto plush cedar scented (and slightly urine soaked) wood chips, but my wheel seems to be hovering thousands above the clouds. I fear the inevitable descent into the unknown below. What is down there? I have asked that question continuously for years. The answer, I've decided, is that whatever is down there can't be worse than what is up here on this never ending wheel of doom (sounds scary doesn't it? Well it is!).

I think strength comes from the willingness to leap without knowing where you're going to land. I am in my twenty ninth year of life on this Earth, and I am finally taking that leap. I'm not even halfway down yet, but I already feel stronger. It's exciting and terrifying, but hopefully one day when someone says, “Sarah, you are so strong to have gone through so much, and still be here laughing and smiling!” I will be able to reply, “I know, right?!”

Spotlight On Homelessness

Homelessness is an issue that is near and dear to my heart. I have spent the past thirteen months living in shelters and surfing my friends' couches (not the best way to win friends and influence people). My current shelter experience is not the first, or second, but the third one in my lifetime. I reached a low point at the beginning of this year, and it wasn't until a good friend of mine decided to “bless” me by smacking me upside the head with a Bible that things began to turn around for me.

I began writing about my life experiences. It started with a simple truth; we all need to feel loved. One thing my life has taught me with a certainty is that the absence of caring, nurturing, and supportive bonds in our lives is a debilitating condition that can take years to recover from.

This initial thought lead me to write the prologue for my current novel. It began as a simple meditation; just me putting down in words things I had been feeling for a long time. The feedback I received after sharing it with several residents and employees at the shelter was amazing! Other residents told me I had expressed in one page exactly what was going on in their own heads. The social workers felt like it gave them insight into how it feels to be homeless that they had never gotten anywhere else.

For today's Spotlight On Homelessness, I have decided to share this piece with my readers. It is the only excerpt from my book that I will be sharing online for obvious reasons. It doesn't really have it's own title, however my book is tentatively entitled “The Rhesus Monkey Experience”.

You may be wondering, “where in the world that title came from?”.

No, it is not a book about monkeys...

or chocolate covered candy bars with a peanut butter center...




Rest assured, it will be explained promptly in the first chapter of the book. Fingers crossed, you will all have an opportunity to read the whole thing one day after it is published (and I receive an extremely large advance).

Until then, I think it would be interesting to see if someone can figure out what the title means on their own. I've given enough information in this blog for those who are astute enough to connect the dots. There may be a reward for whoever guesses correctly (Yay! Prizes!). However, if you are someone whom I have already explained this to, please do not respond. I don't think that's really fair, do you?

Without further adieu, here is the prologue to my unfinished book “The Rhesus Monkey Experience”:



The Rhesus Monkey Experience


Prologue

We each had different circumstances which brought us to this place. Of course, none of us wanted to be here, but we knew this was where we needed to be. For some of us, this was an equivalent to rehab. Name your poison: drugs, alcohol, pills, sex. Many of us had demons that we tried desperately to chase away. For some of us, this was a mental health facility; a place where we went screaming for someone, anyone to help us with whatever was wrong with our brains. We needed assistance with that malfunction that made us damn near want to open our skulls and fish around in there until we found the fucked up part and fix it for good.

Those that monitored this place thought it was all about work. If you just got a job, everything would be alright, but I’m not sure I knew one person for whom that was the case. We were all running from something, but couldn’t do it anymore. Our hearts were racing, our throats were burning, and we were gasping for air, searching desperately for an oasis. We hadn’t quite found all that, but what we had found was a family. We jokingly placed each other in the roles of brother, sister, mother, auntie, uncle, nephew, and so on.

On the surface, this was just a game we played. Our little shelter family, each member clinging to their respective baskets, and doing what they could to not let anyone else’s fall. The reality for many of us was that this was the closest we had ever had to an actual family. One that truly loved us, looked out for us, and wanted us to succeed.

I can only speak for myself when I say that I was meant to be in that place that made us wake up early every day (even on the weekend), that place that was almost like rehab, that place that didn’t always understand the extent of the malfunction in our brains. I was meant to be there, because on those four floors of the Delonis Center lived the only true family I had ever known: my shelter family.

This is Phenomenal!

Hello everyone! It is Monday and of course that means it's poetry day! This is super exciting to me, because I have always loved writing poems. I think it is one of the greatest and most raw forms of expressing emotion.

Every Monday I will post a poem either written by myself or a famous poet that I love. I welcome comments about each piece that I publish. Please be honest and constructive with your feedback. Everyday I am learning to hone my craft more and more and your constructive comments will definitely be invaluable to me in that effort.

In the spirit of girl power, I have chosen Phenomenal Woman by Maya Angelou as my piece for the week. Maya Angelou was my favorite poet as a child and still is today. This poem has always been an inspiration to me and I hope it moves you all as well. Enjoy!

Maya Angelou

Phenomenal Woman

By: Maya Angelou

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies

I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size

But when I start to tell them,

They think I'm telling lies.

I say,

It's in the reach of my arms

The span of my hips,

The stride of my step,

The curl of my lips.

I'm a woman

Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,

That's me.

I walk into a room

Just as cool as you please,

And to a man,

The fellows stand or

Fall down on their knees.

Then they swarm around me,

A hive of honey bees.

I say,

It's the fire in my eyes,

And the flash of my teeth,

The swing in my waist,

And thejoy in my feet.

I'm a woman

Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,

That's me.

Men themselves have wondered

What they see in me.

They try so much

But they can't touch

My inner mystery.

When I try to show them

They say they still can't see.

I say,
It's in the arch of my back,

The sun of my smile,

The ride of my breasts,

The grace of my style.

I'm a woman

Phenomenally

Phenomenal woman,

That's me.

Now you understand

Just why my head's not bowed.

I don't shout or jump about

Or have to talk real loud.

When you see me passing

It ought to make you proud.

I say,

It's in the click of my heels,

The bend of my hair,

The palm of my hand,

The need of my care,

'Cause I'm a woman

Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,

That's me.

I'm Back!

Okay, so I've been gone for a minute. Well, 2 years to be exact. A whole LOT has happened! I'm not going to bore you with all the details, but basically I have spent a year sofa surfing and living in homeless shelters trying desperately to figure out how my life has come to this and how I am ever going to repair it!

(This is my how-did-my-life-come-to-this-and-how-am-I-going-to-repair-it look)

I haven't quite figured it all out yet, but one thing I do know is that living my life for me is a MUST! Now that I have managed to get past all the depression and pity parties (they're not as fun as they sound), I am ready to discover who I am and what I want out of life.

I'll tell you what I do know. I love to sing. I love to write. I am an awesome friend. I have talents that need to be shared with the world. I am a stick of dynamite ready to explode at any moment, and when I do the world will be forever changed for the better!

(It's gonna be CrAzY!!!!)

This blog is one of the many ways I intend to light the fuse. I will share my poetry, discuss projects I am currently working on, shed some light on homelessness in and around the Ann Arbor, MI area, share my humble (and often humorous) opinions on things going on in the world, and (most importantly) enjoy myself.

I have developed the following format so you know what to expect each day you visit my blog:

• Mondays: Meditation Mondays- I will share poetry, meditations, and other random thoughts that may be weighing heavily on this crazy brain of mine.
• Tuesdays: Our Story; Homelessness in Ann Arbor- I will attempt to shed a light on the homeless situation in my community by sharing stories from people I know who are coping with this issue. What brought us here and what we are doing (or sometimes not doing) to change our lives.
• Wednesdays:  Writer's Corner- I will share the progress I am making on my current writing projects and perhaps ask for feedback.
• Thursdays: Story of the week- I will share my opinion on something that happened in the world, talk about my favorite celebrities, books, movies, etc...
• Friday: Vlog- As soon as I get my new HTC phone (hopefully next week) I will begin posting a video blog of me, probably acting dumb (cuz it's funny).

Please don't hesitate to give me feedback on this format in the comments section below. I'd love your input!

I am also going to be trying hard to get subscribers. My goal is 90 subscribers in 90 days, so everyone please subscribe to my blog and let your friends know too! I'm going to come up with something to give away in a raffle if I reach this goal. I'm thinking a gift certificate to somewhere. Let me know what you think!