Classics and Blood

I wanted change and excitement and to shoot off in all directions myself, like the colored arrows from a Fourth of July rocket.--Sylvia Plath

Currently Reading: The Bell Jar by Silvia Plath

I adore Sylvia Plath. I fell in love with her when I discovered her poem "Mushrooms." I told Chris about her, how she was bipolar, severely depressed, married to another poet and a mother of two, then committed suicide by breathing in the fumes from her gas oven. "Wow, sounds great," he said dryly, and gave me a look.
I can't help it that great brilliance is often tortured. A literature professor told a friend of mine once that those who had never struggled with alcoholism, drugs, sex, or depression would never be great, true artists. I would like to prove Dr. Potts wrong, but he may be right. The untortured may slip through the cracks of time unnoticed, while haunted souls hover over posterity with art and agony. Then again, I don't remember reading anything addictive or chemically imbalanced about C.S. Lewis's personality, but maybe I just haven't read enough.

Chris's 27th birthday was Sunday. So was his sister's 23rd. Julie claims she was the most wonderful birthday present ever bestowed upon any human being; Chris jokingly argues she was an intruder who ruined his day. We spent all day Sunday with his family. We usually attend church with Ryan and Julie, but this time Mr. and Mrs. Bocchino and their youngest daughter Melanie came along, too. She had fake nails again. If you want to know Melanie's mood, you look at her nails. Something I've figured out after hanging out for eight years. Wow, that makes me feel old. Mel's moving out for the second time sometime this month or next. The first was her first semester in college--hated dorm life, couldn't find a good roomie. Now, she's trying to rent a house with multiple roomies. Good luck, lovie.

After lunch, we spent the afternoon playing Wii Mario Kart, Wario Party (Chris said it was the most pointless ADD drug-induced game he'd ever seen), and Super Smash Bros. I almost won, once. in Mario Kart I kept a steady fourth place and was usually first or second smashed in Smash Bros. Chris had hoped to marry a game saavy woman. Sorry hun.
"It's ok, you're better than I had hoped," Chris said.
Nice recovery, kiddo.
Chris and Ryan, on the other hand, are techno warriors. Julie and I didn't stand a chance. Lovely relaxing day. Good start to the week, really.

Chris and I attended Ryan's graduation from the Police Academy the next night. I was able to see Ryan's family for the first time since my wedding. Didn't get to talk or hang out too much -- it was later in the evening, crowded, and everyone was visiting with Ryan, as they should be :) Congrats to Ryan -- he's worked long and hard, waiting a long time for this opportunity. I know that Julie is so proud of him. During the ceremony, staring at those 37 men and women in uniforms and suits, how stereotypes form for a reason. Everyone hates stereotypes, but so many of them are true in the broad sense, not in the minute sense for every individual. Looking at the graduates, stiff in their starched navy, sporting crew cuts, unsmiling in formality, you just went, "Ah, of course you're an officer. Mhm, of course, it fits. There you are." I hope I don't sound critical -- I admired them and their commitment; it was just an image that stuck with me. Police officers give wonderful service that helps hold society together--without law enforcement, we'd be violent animals (trust me, I know: I watched RoboCop today, and, when the police force went on strike, the scifi version of Detroit when to hell . . . that and human nature is a beast all it's own, with or without cyborg cops -.^).

I put in my resignation form for the library yesterday. Completely surreal and unplanned. RaeJean, my lead, approached me the night before saying, "Talk to Kelly as soon as you can, things have changed."
You see, I had talked to RaeJean earlier about how I should resign -- basically how far ahead of time should I tell management so that they had plenty of time to find a replacement, if they needed one. RaeJean had said two or three weeks ahead was plenty of time. Then, apparently, circumstances changed. The sooner I could tell my manager, Kelly, the better.
I couldn't think of what to say, couldn't think of how to type my formal letter of resignation, just drew a complete blank, starving for tact and poise. Golly, how do you tell someone you want to leave?
Turns out, I didn't need to think of anything. Kelly popped a "Sarah, RaeJean said you had something you wanted to talk to me about?"
Uuuuuuhhhh . . . yes. Yes I do.
So I told her, as politely and calmly as possible, told her how much I've loved being here and how much I've learned, which is the truth. I loved my coworkers, I loved the learning experiences. It's been a blessing being here . . . but it's time to move on. Kelly was very sweet and understand, said that she had enjoyed having me and watching me grow. I was touched. She apologized for putting me on the spot, explained that she was leaving early that day before my break, when I had been planning to speak to her, then thanked me for the early notice.
It's completely surreal. July 23rd is my last day.
Wow.

On a very happy note, I've been invited to join a book club by a couple of old high school friends, Abby and Anne. I'm so very, very excited. As much as Chris loves books, he doesn't read nearly as much as I do. I devour. My sisters-in-law have little interest in literature. Mom and I talk books and have found some we both like, so I have a bit of a reading buddy, there :) It's just hard to talk "The Hobbit" with Mom when she couldn't understand why anyone would live inside a hill behind a round green door. I love my mother ;) So now, Anne, Abby, and I (and perhaps a couple of others, I don't know) will be reading Jhumpa Lahiri's Unaccustomed Earth, which I have never heard of but am eager to discover. Yay literature buddies! X-D

I'm wondering if the blog title is a bit overdramatic . . . Blood was just a reference to family blood ties, really. I thought about titling it "Classics and Oil" because I can't get rid of the smell of massage oil (Chris gave me a coupon for a free massage--my first one--and, while it was very relaxing, I had no idea how smelly it could be). I tried washing it off and changed clothes but it's stuck in my nostrils like unwanted congestion. I just hope no one else can smell it -- it's as bad as some of our unbathed patrons. Blech.