Shades of Merlot

jamigreen‘When I first saw you, last year? I hated that you could wear blue eyeliner and merlot colored lipstick. I can’t.’

I had sat down in my new spot in concert choir, very nervous. Jami was the most beautiful girl in the room, wearing a white sundress, with dramatic cat eyeliner, sparkling green eyes, and strawberry waves.  She was also one of the best singers in our section. I was seriously in yoga pants, flip flops, and a neon pink hoodie. Don’t get me started on the hair.

A few days later, I saw her in the library before lit and then in class. I felt rather ridiculous that this lioness managed to be everywhere I was, far more reserved but so elegant, glamorous, and present. The thing about her was that when you saw her? You didn’t stop looking. She was so kind, smart, and beautiful…you just wanted to be around her forever.

Friday she yawned after choir and rolled her eyes over to me, saying ‘Coming to my house after this right? It’s spring and I have white merlot. I cannot imagine that your biochem class is more exciting than us repotting geraniums .’She was always right and at least today, I was wearing decent clothes. We made shrimp scampi and asparagus, Pia brought 3 issues of Vogue and several more bottles of wine. My friend Josh stopped after work with lemon cake, we all sat on quilts, talked about music and food and stars. We stayed there for three days.

That year, we stayed at each other’s apartments nearly every weekend. In the summer, we would hike and picnic with lavish cheese, bread, and fruit. We learned how to make fudge cakes, lasagnas, lobster biscayne, & huevos rancheros. We ate out, we barbecued, we sliced up cheese and called it good, we at Arby’s. There was always wine.

We grew into women. We talked books, shoes, sex, adventure, love. We stayed closed, we strayed far, we shared all our stories, or we fought. We had periods where we fought because each of us became more lion like near each other.

‘I have a wanderers spirit. I can never catch up to me.’

Neither of us felt at home anywhere. If we were anywhere too long, skin began itching, eyes wandering, minds dreaming. I would take trips, and Jami would pick up her things to leave. I visited Jami several times. Sometimes, I had a silly boy in tow, sometimes I needed a weekend where we laid in bed to read and drink coffee, and other times, we would then keep traveling. We would repeat the things we loved, painting, eating, sipping, looking, reading. Jami was refined and graceful, but also roamed unbound and free.

jamiirisShe came with her own air current…it smelled like honey, almonds, sandalwood, the seasons, and laughter.

She never questioned the woman that I grew into. She questioned when I masked that woman, bridled it, suppressed it, changed it, and made myself unhappy.She lived for the quiet, messier layers of life. The ‘wherever you go, there you are’ level that meant her red nails got dirt under them when she planted the flowers, and that she was just fine to go to dinner that way.

She traveled one summer and took the fall semester off. She worked at the best cafe, sang and played music, painted her room a drenching purple. We would meet in libraries, apartments, cafes, grocery stores, parks, and we would do things both mundane and wild. The thing with my beautiful friend is that she could make you feel like your life finally jumped off of the paper.  She would give gifts that were unexpected and perfect. She knew when to be silent and when to laugh with every nerve in her body. Her smile and eyes were beautiful n the elusive, Roman candle-esque way that Marilyn Monroe captivated us all. She sparkled brightly by being both wise and sweet, open and elusive, a rive and the ocean all at once.

We went to breakfast, one rainy morning. A small coffee shop, tucked away, on our way there, we chatted about our shared dream to become flight attendants. She spied a homeless man a ways down the street, so we jogged up to him and smiled. She gave him a $20 and I promised to come back to pick him up. I was headed the way he was going, after all. Then, she shook her head and offered for him to just come with us, which was the exact tender generous soul she had. He did and it was the funniest, most delightful day I had that spring.

Late that summer, we parted ways. I traveled across the state, she to another and we started new schools. Soon after, she became a flight attendant and I became a mother.  Occasionally, she had layovers near me. Life needed to stand still so that we could wander together for a few hours. One time, we sat in the cafe of a book store, as my future husband was walking our daughter through the children’s area. She watched him quietly, then said, ‘Do not let go. He’s ready for you.’ I smiled and shook my head, murmuring about not wanting marriage, and she laughed. She said, ‘Well, it wants you. You are the most lovely family. Give me something to smile on?’ I made sure to send her the first picture from our elopement, later on.

‘Alaska is amazing. Lonely, brutal, and it has captured every part of my heart. Do you still wear blue eyeliner?’

My beautiful golondrina of a friend had ridden the wind again to Alaska to teach. She had amazing adventures and sent me photos each week, her climbing the ice, her wonderful pup, food she had made, wine she drank, hikes, flowers, crafts with her kids. We talked about things children need, what it is to be a wife and mother. She sent me care packages to remind me that I must pamper myself – our shared favorite scent of body wash – Brown Sugar and Fig, boxes of pomegranates or grape fruit, so many books and bottles of nail polish. I sent her the 4 inch heels that a new mother never wears, the blue eyeliner with a tutorial for girls with green eyes, and buffalo jerky.


‘I wish you could meet him. There isn’t a thing I can think of that I want to do without him.’

Jami met the love of her life in Alaska. We had both been lonely for so many long years. I had my daughter and got married so much sooner than she. I dearly wished that she was not only there on my special day, but there with the one. Not long after I read the email describing her soon to be husband, I saw pictures, read letters about all the things that they planned with their life, and best of all…talked on the phone shortly after they were engaged. She was content and fulfilled. She sounded more vibrant than ever. Her wedding pictures were sparkling and humble with love.

They have a daughter. A beautiful daughter who looks so much like her mother. Jami is the most radiant mother and we talk about how our life work has shifted. We have these amazing visions, to change our little corners of the world, as we are both in the Midwest. We talk about the little farms we plant in our yards, honey bees, making yogurt and kombucha, raising chickens for our children, we miss one another. The constant denominator is that we have always known we will see each other.

So, we sent each other more poetry and paintings. Christopher Moore, Tom Robbins, Gregory Corso. Wine colored nail polishes, knit things, gourmet chocolates.We commiserate about sleep, headaches, diapers, food that we want to eat with our husbands, and the full end of heels. We decide on different birthday and holiday traditions. She is shocked when I go through cancer, she cheers when I am in remission.I pull out the blanket she made my girl nearly nine years prior and smile as I send Jami a picture of it. We are more accustomed to not hearing from each other for long periods.

‘I have these instances where I lose vision in my eye and get headaches.’

After my own terrible run with cancer, and the fact that I pulled through…scraped up but better and wiser, I was honestly devastated when she told me that she was facing it down herself. I wandered into a church to light candles and say rosaries for her. I looked at my beautiful pictures of her, her wedding day, happy smiling couple snaps, adventures, a beautiful daughter, all off the contentment that she worked so very hard to earn.  It was just frustrating to me. Cancer had been the most terrible experience for me. It ripped my family up, changed so many things for me, and landed us in a very real financial situation that led to bankruptcy.

I was left embittered by not only cancer, but also where we live. So many things had gone so very wrong for me. But even in her own terrible situation, she reached out to gently remind me that we have to keep evolving and moving. We are not where we are or what we go through. I have always been humbled by her generosity, her kindness, and grace. It was such a spiraling situation, but I honestly thought it was going to be fine. Cancer is so weird, you really never know so you have to be totally optimistic.

When we wrote, I heard something new in her words. She was actually afraid and it devastated me. Her words began to take measure and a different shape. It was angular and careful, instead of something that spread into you, warming your soul up, and giving you new ideas. She spent time apologizing. I asked her not to, there was never a thing I wanted her to apologize for. In truth, I could not measure up to her – the beauty, the snapping sparkle of those green eyes, her melodic voice and laughter, the way she held a room, the very way that she existed. Jami…a most magical woman that I got to be friends with.

‘Forgive me, if I don’t make sense. It’s because I don’t see.’

We emailed and messaged a few more times this winter. She sounded far away to me. I called and sang to her for a Christmas present, because she would always sing to the stars. I  hoped that cancer had not caused her to forget that. Everything got harder for her and a terrible feeling settled over me. She had another surgery and illness set in…we were being so optimistic. We would visit Oregon in the summer. Help plant Jami’s garden with her husband and daughter. Cook and bake, then leave so she could nap. Take them to eat, breathe the beautiful air, see more stars, laugh with wine, and then I saw that Jami was not better at all. She had gone home with a prognosis of being terminal.

The worst thing happened, people. I could not lift my hands to my computer to write. I could not call. I sat on this bed and stared at the little swallows that we made in a pottery class over a decade ago, laughing and joking, batting eyes at cute, artist boys, as we painted our birds. At the end of the week that we made them, we went on this picnic, down to the river. She waded in and sang up to me, ‘You should keep my bird for me! I still have to fly for a while.’

I did. I do. I still have our birds. Jami taught me about the depth of beauty and refined, easy grace. She was fiery, artistic grace, mixed with the most genuine soul. Refreshing, honest, deeply funny, and terrifyingly smart. Everything about her is amazing. She is the credit to femininity and womanhood that e all should look to. The truth is Jami taught me to be more, to change this corner of the world, to always sparkle.

golondrinasJami died today. I am consumed by the grief and nothing has color. I have eaten rich foods and drank a beautiful Merlot to celebrate her but truthfully, I taste nothing. I can think of nothing but doing everything in my power to honor and celebrate her memory, despite my terrible grief. Nothing but finding as many ways as I can to help her husband and child as the walk this terrible road. Cancer wields a more terrible grip than death. It destroys your life, and the lives of all who surround you.

I have a decade and a half of letters, emails, books, art, jewelry, memories, and the acute knowledge that it was so very fleeting and not nearly enough. I am so blessed that I have had Jami Lynn and I am so lost with this fact that she is gone. She was that person who is a true Roman candle – regal, sparking, sparkling, funny, charming, kind, and powerful.

So many of us are raising the banner to help Jami’s family. I can think of people no more deserving after this terrible grief has settled on us all. So much struggle and loss does not deserve the price tag that insurance companies levy. I will be hosting as many fundraisers as I possibly can to help them. Many people are working on the start of a medical and memorial fund. If there is a way that you would like to help, please do.

My fundraiser is on my scentsy website – and Jami M Family Fundraiser, also Facebook, and you can always email me. All sales and all of my commission will go to this family.

There is also a Medical and Memorial Fund – Jami’s Memorial Fund. These donations can be written off for your taxes.

My friends, light a candle so she walks in light. Lend someone a helping hand and smile even more at those you love. Be the love that this world so needs.

Sparkles and Glitter,

Sara Rose

Birthday Boy Goes To The Red Room


So, today is Nolan’s birthday and yes… The lil tadpole is now over 30!!! He’s feeling altogether cautious and grumpy, so what better than to force him to read Fifty Shades of Grey and write a review for you all??? He is probably the most tame reviewer of it, actually. I wasn’t really expecting him to be so chill over it, this is a man who gets upset if ketchup isn’t correctly ‘applied’ to his burger. Whatever that means.

See, I tried to read the books. I couldn’t, it just made me gag over the poor writing. Then I tried reading the sex scenes, because I ave written erotica before and  was curious what ‘Twilight Spin Off Sex’ was going to be. That was a fail too. Then I tried skipping pages and reading random passages. Sadly, I think I understood what all the books were about by reading a sentence every 20 pages. Sigh.

Obviously, the husband is growing into a man, if I can demand that he write about these books for his birthday. He did it without complaint. I will say that the Mister is really coming into his own. He has never been as funny, clever, smart, or caring as he has been now that he is over that 30 year old hurdle. I have this theory that most men have to get past 30 to function sanely. I propose that the government should give me money to study this.

Everybody, take a big deep breath, scream ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY NOLAN!!!‘ Next, settle down and read his review. Finally, watch the BuzzFeed Try Guys video that we linked up in a following post. As always, you are welcome for the over share!!!

Glitter and Sparkles,

Sara Rose

Nolan. Not A Serial Killer.
Nolan. Not A Serial Killer.

Grab the popcorn. I’m about to tackle 50 Shades of Grey. Yes. Before I begin, note that this is about the complete trilogy of books, which I slogged this winter, in an attempt to better understand the hype and the hate.

Now, here are some things I expect people to think about the book:

“I couldn’t finish it!”

“I don’t so much as hate it, as hate the sheer amount of marketing done for it. I am sick of hearing about it.”

“At least The Story of O was better written.”

“I think Christian was an abusive asshole!”

“I wanted to punch Anna’s inner goddess in the face.”

“I just read the steamy bits.”


“I’m disgusted by the blatant disregard for reality!”

“WTF is up with all the whips and chains?”

“I can’t believe this terribly written fan-fiction could be so successful!”

And on and on and on.

Now that that’s out of the way, here’s how I see it, and you can take it or leave it.

I hated that it’s fan fiction – but I would never have read it otherwise. Knowing it was going to be overhyped braintrash set a pretty low bar. But the sheer amount of marketing, and the continuation of that marketing and the free marketing by people continuing to flame each other about different elements of the books really grinds my gears.

I loved Christian’s emotional and psychological issues and the arc that surrounds them. So many people who criticize the books focus on how much depth its lacking. While this is generally true, Christian Grey is a truly three-dimensional character. He has conflicts, both internal and external. He continually has to grow to overcome emotional and real-world challenges. And at the end of the series, there’s a recognizable change from the Mr. Grey we meet with Ana early in Book One. Are both Christian’s flawed? Oh, man, yes. He’s a stalking, manipulative, calculating narcissist when we meet him, and there are elements of those things remaining in his personality at the end, but there’s also the clear desire and effort to become something better, and that aspiration to overcome terrible instincts and patterns of behavior is something worth considering.

I hated Ana’s strange personality and how she sometimes seemed mature and other times she acted 12. The books use the same stupid technique that Twilight and, to a lesser extent, even Divergent and the Hunger Games employ. It creates a blank slate character for females to insert themselves into and fantasize. There is little to no intrinsic artistic value. Writing is, in the end, about detaching yourself from reality, a pleasant little distraction from life – but this is just word porn. There are no ‘strong’ female characters here. These are all Mary Sues who have everything thrown at them: You’re special! Hot hunks of man meat adore you! The world depends on you! You have no parents to boss you around!

I loved the more deep, emotional scenes in the story, such as the lipstick-vest scene and Ana cutting Christian’s hair. While these aren’t boo-hoo, sob your eyes out, eat your feelings moments, these are the scenes where Christian’s growth shines through and where we can actually connect with him as a human being. While much of the writing might be terrible, these types of scenes, and they were relatively common throughout the series, were the payoff.

Regardless of whether you love it or hate it, 50 Shades of Grey has brought a new, critical eye to stereotypical romances, and erotica in particular, opening the door for more complex story concepts that aren’t idyllic in nature. Seriously.  The problem here is that new erotica authors have saturated the market with dark, paranormal, pseudo-horror erotica, when there is potential for so much more. People, especially in uptight America, could use a reminder that erotica has been extremely popular on a global scale throughout history, even during the strict, tighten-your-petticoats Victorian age.

So, even if you can’t get lost in what is clearly a fantasy, you can at least appreciate this silver lining: it has people discussing important issues such as stalking, abuse, and sexual diversity. These are good things people, and even if good things have to come from trash, they’re still good things. So, read ‘em or don’t read ‘em, just don’t blindly jump on the “love” or “hate” bandwagons without giving the source a closer look.



9 or 10? Thoughts on Love.

Before we start this, I must inform you that I am terrible with dates…because math.

Apparently my husband and I have been together, or married, or complaining at each other for a lot of years now. Like, 9 or 10? I never remember this, ever, but I remember when we met each other because it was the day after his birthday and our wedding anniversary because it’s the day after Independence Day. Built in festivity for all!!! I can name all the things that I abhor or complain about in my marriage, or my man (you do NOT need five pairs of socks a day, and nobody answers the door wearing shoes at night). I’m gonna try being nice. Yeah, let’s talk about the good stuff and the sweet. Let’s chat it all up a bit! Who’s with me?


Nolan and I met serendipitously, I suppose. Via our dear friend, Jenn, and so many other factors that came smashing in around us. I would like to point out that as a new mama, I was entirely ill prepared for all of it. As in a verbatim of ‘Unless you plan to marry me, go away.’ Mistress of romance, that I am. The thing is, I had never truly ‘planned’ on marriage. Long term, yes. But really, until he came along? Nope.

It was odd but steadying for him to walk in and instantly be ok with the banal part of life. 11 pm grocery runs, a day spent doing laundry and watching reruns,writing a paper while burping the baby. Very quickly, the whole conversation about marriage came around, and it didn’t feel awkward. Nor did it have that tremor of over excitement that most quick start infatuations have. It was all very real and steady.

There were setbacks. Yeah, in the form of him having really strange parents, us realizing we had financial set backs, and other very real issues to face. Eva was sick often, I had a surgery, the list was a bit endless. In the end, we grew discouraged by the idea that a wedding was so much more about showmanship than love. We had a very clear vision, a few people by Spearfish Creek while we said our vows. A dinner at my mom’s restaurant, a wedding night in a cabin. Perfect to us. However…….

We eloped.

It was a few people outside the old, sandstone court house. We were under a huge oak tree and there was a breeze that swirled leaves around us. Afterward, we drank champagne with guests back at our house, then went to a wonderful dinner with a small group. We spent that night in a beautiful suite, ate a lot of gummi bears, and wondered why on earth they had carnival fun mirrors by the jacuzzi.

As it is with marriage, every single year is a zen tangle of things. Good, bad, wonderful, awful, everyone in a decent marriage has their fair share of things that have them ready to squeal and gouge their eyes out or cry with happiness. What I appreciate is that I married a man who is constant and steady. He is devoted and will always put others before himself. He is intelligent and funny. He is also a pretty great dad. He isn’t perfect, but if I nag him long enough, he tries.He seems to have a very innate understanding of how I work, which is a breath of fresh air.

Too many people have spent too much time buying into the idea that you have to be perfect. No, you just have to try your hardest. I am not a perfect wife. I am probably totally awful sometimes, you know? I can be temperamental, sullen, introverted, or outrageously excited, silly…and I usually expect far too much. I almost never back down from a fight or argument, despite knowing all too well to pick and choose battles. In the heat of the moment, I just want to be right.

I didn’t have very many examples of a steady marriage, and as I mentioned, I had never planned to get married. I thought about it occasionally. But usually settled on the idea that I would get irritated and want to move on. I don’t know that it was motherhood or Nolan that changed that. But after the two of them came into my life in rapid progress, I began to think differently. I have always been used to a certain level of loneliness and the color of that changed drastically.


On this Valentine’s Day, I am grateful for the steadiness and consistency that we have started to build, bit by bit over the years. I am relieved to have someone to laugh with, who gets my crazy humor, and doesn’t really mind my penchant for nail polish or glitter. I love that we both know when the other person needs space, or just needs to get over it. I also happen to thing that he is particularly good looking and the most polite man I have ever met.

The picture of us on our wedding day, so many years ago, it has so much effervescent resolve. So very much of that ‘It’s us against the world!!!’  Nowadays, we still have the resolve but it is far more focused. At the beginning of our relationship, we loved spending money stupidly and we were very impetuous, rash, but sweet and silly. Nowadays, we love cooking dinner together, taking the kids for long walks, talking about books, and laughing. It’s about simple rituals and finding moments, you know?

I am grateful that I took this path. I love you, Nolan. I love the kiddos, Eva and Owen. Be love, every day, every one!

Give someone a hug after you read this.

Glitter and Sparkles,

Sara Rose

A Funny Thing Happened…

Hello Again, Everyone!

A solid 8 weeks ago something strange happened to me. I want to share it because it is so very important for young women to talk openly and honestly. There is a certain pervasive darkness that hits me every winter, and be it that ours was late in coming this year, things swirled in such a bad way. Let’s explore, together. Got your flashlights?

Things were going so well. I had applied for what could be a fantastic new job. I heard promising results from the interviews that I had. The kids were doing so good. We were spending more time as a family, laughing and playing, making memories. The husband and I were working on overcoming some of the past difficulties. I felt generally happy! I woke up every morning to let the fog out and smile at the sun, do some yoga and brew coffee. Get the day going.

Fell Asleep Standing.
Fell Asleep Standing.

There was a grey shading that was seeping in around the corners. The weariness that was settling in. The numbness, sadness, exhaustion, and bleak blender that is having your beautiful brain go silent from depression and anxiety. I was very worried about some medical things, one of which was that I was over medicated with narcotics/benzos/unnecessary meds. I really didn’t feel like myself. I was forgetting good chunks of the day, conversations, where I set my coffee, how to write.  But I didn’t notice it at first.

I drank so much. Terrifying when you are the child of an alcoholic and have a fairly strong tolerance…this doesn’t mean you should drive that to excess every night just to feel warmth again. The thoughts racing ahead in my mind were scary, disconnected missives that kept me up all night. I realized that I had arrived at a point where I knew how to complete the actions of functioning but not thriving.  I made a scary decision to take myself off of the meds that were turning my days into a panicky, addicted mess.  I will say that the ensuing battle was important, but it took a heavy toll.

I absolutely descended into a heavy, darkly pitched space. Nothing had color, the world was fuzzy and mumbling. I never slept or I always slept. I stared for hours, a bright buzzing happening in my head. My hands developed a terrible, unsteady tremor. I couldn’t breathe right because I felt, that at any minute, my heart or lungs would either burst or collapse. My skin took on a purple, mottled tone, and I dragged around our house feeling broken.  Irrational anger, sadness, then happiness, and a crippling fear of the outside world.

I finally saw our physician about six weeks after I stopped taking the terribly addicting pills. He is a new physician and overall, he is very direct but kind. When I spoke to him about stopping the meds that were a problem, he looked shocked and asked how I had managed to do it, as it is terrible, difficult, and often times dangerous to do when not in a clinic setting. What choice does a working mom have, really? We worked out a new treatment, safer meds at a much lower dosage.

It’s been a month of the new meds. I am improving and returned to the world, a little more every day. Returning phone calls. Sending emails. Writing again. Happily settling into my new job. Building this website again. A side project of a little business to challenge me and help us grow our income a bit. The kids are doing well. The husband is getting back to better too. The curtains are open again, I missed the sun. This is in part meds, but also my being very focused that I have to step away from the ease of sleeping away the world.

I realize that I miss conversation. My writing entered a long period of one sided, self obsessed prose. I am very tired of that dynamic because what I want, is to talk with you. I am certain that I will take breaks now and again. That is the ebb and flow. But I want to talk to you about important, mundane, funny, profound, and lame things. I’d like to keep teaching myself to laugh again.

Clear Vision
Clear Vision

I also remember that this is a place dedicated to challenge, growth, the human experience. I don’t think that II am smarter, more important, or that my experiences are more important. I just hope to share them to gain common ground and to learn.  I am glad to be back here. I hope we can travel together.

The other day, Eva asked me what I thought beauty is. I was jotting down notes for my blog calendar. Before I even thought, I said, ‘A woman is beautiful when her intelligence and grace are equally met.’ I think that’s a good thought to keep in my pocket for a while.

Thanks for reading.

Have the best weekend.

Glitter and Sparkles,

Sara Rose

Light Bulb.

The hectic pace of our lives can make it difficult to remain connected to the things and the people that matter the most to us. We get wrapped up in our work or our busyness and connection falls by the wayside. 
How have you created and/or sustained connections in your life this year?

I think this applies best.
I think this applies best.

I don’t necessarily like to admit that my introverted nature makes it easy for me to to not make effort.

I love the people in my life- I am finally to that place where the majority of people in my life…they are people that I welcome their voices, their thoughts, opinions, and chit chat.

I have cut out the majority of people that were only in my life to be emotional vampires and I feel like we are all incredibly symbiotic.

People in my life are like light bulbs and I hope that I am that to them too.

But, I prefer the scratch of my pen across paper, the clicking of my computer keys, and to tap out a text almost 90% of the time.

I measure my words now, I used to spill them as though I did not find them to be precious.

That has changed. So my interaction has limited dramatically.

I spend my time with my kiddos and occasionally answer the phone or go to coffee or lunch.

It makes the conversations sweeter, my words measured, and everything more valuable because I drink it all in more.

I do need to get back out there more- it is a goal of mine for 2015.

I have let the shutters close in around me quite a bit this year as I deal with things.

But I don’t mind, I like the quiet and solitude…funny because I always use to need loud, and people, and things to occupy me.

Not so much anymore, perhaps that’s the whole growing up thing.

Join us this December as we #reverb14
Join us this December as we #reverb14

Glitter and Sparkles,

Sara Rose


Please post your favourite picture of yourself from 2014, self-portrait or otherwise!

Sigh. All of the hair.
Sigh. All of the hair.
Halloween - 'Witchy Woman'
Halloween – ‘Witchy Woman’
No make up because bedtime.
No make up because bedtime.

From my pictures we know 3 things: 1. Mascara. 2. Soft is good. 3. Kick ass is better.

Sparkles and Glitter,

Sara Rose

Killing You Softly.

Despite our usually sunny dispositions and dedication to the practice of “assuming positive intent,” we all occasionally find ourselves having to deal with an incredibly unpleasant individual.

While I’m sure you always handle it with the tact and finesse for which you’ve become so well known, I’m going to ask you to step outside yourself for just a moment.

Think back to such a situation: if the gloves were off, how you really would have liked to have dealt with them?

Bitchy Pants.
Bitchy Pants.

Oh well. First of all.

I don’t think that these situations are that rare for me. I lack this genetic mutation called tact.

I am, however, rather mincing and I think that your brain is a very good way to piss people off.

Especially if they don’t play nice.

I have this voice called my ‘Friendly Neighborhood Sociopath Voice’.

It works well to ‘get things done’ and ‘get stupid gone’.

I don’t have a short fuse but I don’t tolerate nonsense.

I have had to learn this rather early in life but it serves well.

Emotional vampires serve no purpose or ends.

Also, I am not here to be popular, I would rather be respected.

Soooo, if I have to wear my bitchy pants- at least they fit like a glove.

Thank you for the prompt, Brad!!!

Join us this December as we #reverb14
Join us this December as we #reverb14

Glitter and Sparkles,

Sara Rose

Earl Grey.

Another day, and here I am still trudging at this.

I’m sorry. I am in such a funk.

Let me sip at tea and write this.

Lavender earl grey in a pink cup.

Today’s Prompt: what is the sound of your own voice?

This will be simple to answer.

Held to myself because it is lonely and sad.

I can’t keep explaining because either a person doesn’t get it or they don’t want to.

So. I choose silence.

It’s easier.

To think I used to sing, all the time.

The idea makes me want to vomit now.

Join us this December as we #reverb14
Join us this December as we #reverb14


Sparkles and Glitter,

Sara Rose

Electric Slide.

We are all lightning rods, conduits for that which the Universe wants born into this world. What energies did you channel this year?

"The only people for me are the mad ones. The ones who are mad to talk, and to live, who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like a fabulous yellow Roman candle exploding like a spider across the sky" -Jack Kerouac
“The only people for me are the mad ones. The ones who are mad to talk, and to live, who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like a fabulous yellow Roman candle exploding like a spider across the sky” -Jack Kerouac

(Thanks Rainbow!!!!)

Behind again, but I really struggled with this! I wanted to get this right and I *think* I’ve got what I wanted to say down.

We spent the last two years in recovery.

We spent this year realizing that life is still too messy, sticky, complicated for it’s own good.

Being wild creatures, each of us sat in our corners hemming and hawing over how things could change and be better.

Being that we are each too bright for one anothers’ eyes at times, we have all had to temper those flames and learn how to be amongst one another again.

2015 will be about potential energy that we have found this year.

Nobody can afford for things to be things to spiral anymore.

Everyone is a point of wild, potential, burning energy.

Burning out this young is tragic.

I moved us here to make our lives better and that will happen.

My energy wasn’t channeled properly this year.

But it will be.

‘This isn’t everything you are.’

Join us this December as we #reverb14
Join us this December as we #reverb14

Sparkles and Glitter,

Sara Rose

Everything is Beautiful.

It’s all too easy to put off loving where we are until everything is perfect. What can you love about where you are now?

happySo this is a popular picture on Facebook and Pinterest but I keep it in a journal that I’ve had for a while.

The quote, note necessarily the picture.

Which is funny because I just wrote about the picture of Home…my home and how I have stressed out over all the perfection it ‘should have’.

Perfection is not love and it is not a home.

What we create is sticky, messy, warm, and hopefully keeps everyone in it knowing that ‘home’ is supposed to be beautiful and imperfect.

It is your landing ground from life. Which already demands so much from us.

I want to be happy and comfortable, but I don’t need to be perfect.

I think it would be the best thing ever if I could give that to my family too.

We can savour all that we create together, every day!

Join us this December as we #reverb14
Join us this December as we #reverb14

Glitter and Sparkles,

Sara Rose