From High School!

I've been spending a lot of time at my Dad's since my dog, Otis, died. At home, everything I see reminds me of her and it's painful. I haven't had the heart to write about her passing yet.

If you're friends with me on Facebook, you'll know I've decided to write a memoir of my struggle with mental illness, family relationships, blood issues, etc, plus, one really awesome dog. It'll take a while, but I think it will be worth it.

But I digress. At my dad's house, I found a folder of old essays and papers I wrote in my junior year of high school for my English class.

This one is my favorite. It made me laugh. I remember writing it one night at my Dad's kitchen table. I had missed a day of school and was making up homework. There weren't really rules about what to write, so, I asked my dad for ideas. He randomly told me this story, and I wrote it down...


"Many, many years ago, my dad, then a 28 year old bachelor, went through the tedious yearlong process of having a house built. Until the fateful time came, he was blissfully unaware that it was his decision to make about the color scheme of the walls and carpets. Being a single young man with no knowledge of what colors go with what and no girlfriend or wife to guide him, he turned to the biggest female influence in his life-- his mom. She was happy to give him advice in all the areas that he questioned her about, plus many subjects he didn't ask about. Overwhelmed with his mother's advice about acceptable color palettes, he took the safe route and colored all the walls the same- white- with the same carpet- beige- in every room.

He was very excited about being able to add his personal touches and thought long and hard about what kind of dog he wanted: big or small? Black, brown or white? What breed? He thought this through and proceeded to get a cat.

On his first night in his new house, he went shopping for food since his fridge was empty. He bought a Tombstone pizza, went home, set the oven to 375 degrees, and put the pizza in the oven. About 10 minutes later, smoke began wafting from the oven and the smoke detector began screaming. Alarmed, my dad hurried to see what was wrong. The problem? He had forgotten to remove the cardboard from the bottom of the pizza.

He wasn't quite sure how to turn the smoke alarm off so he went into the utility room and shut off the main breaker to the house.

The next day he had take-out from El Matador."


I know I always say it but I'm gonna try and write more!!

Sarah