Colonel Mustard, in the library, with a candlestick.

And he said, “She’s like a dream” to which
I replied knowingly, “Yes, like a knife down the throat.”

This weekend I was reminded of a young man who I worked with many years ago. Nick was sweet, cherubic, and kind, but he annoyed me beyond measure. I worked with him closely, and was often times put off by his buoyant optimism. Never did I question the sincerity of his angelic temperament, as I saw him interact with others constantly under pressure while still maintaining a bright smile. Much to his peers’ dismay, his unfailing optimism grew stronger each day, but so did their harshness. Nick was often the butt of their long-standing jokes, as rumors about his sexuality or lack of “maleness” permeated though out the school. Nick was rather slow to hit puberty and his high-pitched voiced along with his feminine stride was enough to raise an eyebrow or two in small town South Dakota. Although I felt sorry for Nick because of the apparent disrespect of his classmates, the dude was actually very irritating. However, I didn’t have to dig too deep to find some compassion for poor Nick because his peers were so horribly cruel.

When I saw an older Nick-look-a-like on Saturday night, I was reminded of how my radar picks up femininity in men fairly easily. Now unlike Nick, this guy was a tall, much taller than anyone else in crowd, but there was a certain femininity in his movements. When I first spotted him, I thought I had stumbled upon what could’ve been thee hottest tall athletic butch lesbian I’d ever seen. I noted his/her presence, and then went back to my table. Later in the evening, as I was leaving the bathrooms, I saw him/her, and it became apparent that he/she was actually a he. At that point, all my fantasies of a late-night tryst with a butchy ball-player were destroyed, but I was still curious. Turns out, HE lives with two lesbians, and had spent the evening entertaining a crowd of em’. To which I responded with “Ah, ha! I knew I smelled lesbian all over you.” He laughed, and readers, that was it, androgyny coupled with a sense of humor is a lethal combination, true to form, I was smitten.

So, imagine my surprise when I woke Sunday morning dreaming of my old friend Nick. In my dream Nick was standing in front of me, speaking in his nasal high-pitched voice. Although I was in front of him, he seemed to be ignoring me while starring off into space speaking to God knows who or what. At the end of his speech, I drove the sharp knife I was holding down the back of his throat. Nick hung limply from my knife as I plunged it down even further, twisting the blade as hit back of his throat. When I pulled the knife free a blue liquid pooled around his feet. The liquid reminded me of blue kool-laid, and when I saw it, I was relieved. I was so damn thirsty. I got up from my bed, drank the rest of my water, and sank back into the sheets.


Boys Don’t Cry- The Cure

I would say I'm sorry
If I thought that it would change your mind
But I know that this time
I've said too much
Been too unkind
I try to laugh about it
Cover it all up with lies
I try and
Laugh about it
Hiding the tears in my eyes
'cause boys don't cry
Boys don't cry
I would break down at your feet
And beg forgiveness
Plead with you
But I know that
It's too late
And now there's nothing I can do
So I try to laugh about it
Cover it all up with lies
I try to
laugh about it
Hiding the tears in my eyes
'cause boys don't cry
I would tell you
That I loved you
If I thought that you would stay
But I know that it's no use
That you've already
Gone away
Misjudged your limits
Pushed you too far
Took you for granted
I thought that you needed me more
Now I would do most anything
To get you back by my side
But I just
Keep on laughing
Hiding the tears in my eyes

Taking a Sample from Every Platter

Jump on the Sexy Train

Dear readers, I’m the luckiest girl ever. I get to kiss boys from all over the world. Naturally, during my quest for global awareness, I’ve strengthened my foreign tongue. Not only that, I’ve learned a thing or two about other parts of the world through another’s eyes, which is pretty valuable experience. However, on a more superficial level, I’ve grown quite accustomed to dating outside of my nationality. Could I date American again? Possibly, but that’s so boring! As if dating someone for an extended amount of time isn’t boring enough, but when you add shared cultural expectations/beliefs to the mix, it’s an even bigger snore fest.

Although, my most recent foreign kissing partner expressed concern about becoming an “experiment”, I maintain that I’m conducting very important research. (within the confines of my mind, at least.) For example, during my studies, I’ve found a correlation between nationality and kissing style.

Even though I am in the beginning stages of my research, allow me to share my observations:

1) South African-

South African men are very passionate. They typically don’t focus on one area; kissing is usually a side note, riding on the coattails of all the other fantastic activities you’ll be engaged in. Also, as a side note, many SA have a distinct ass fetish.

2) Croatian-

I’ve had some trouble with Croatians. Their kiss is usually somewhat urgent, sloppy, and over-eager. In fact, I stopped calling one particular Croatian because kissing him was simply disastrous.

3) French-

The French kiss exquisitely, just as one might expect. Their kisses are slow, deep, and long. Seizing one’s entire body by pulling it inward is a common method a French boy may use to enclose another in rapture.

4) Moroccan-

Similar to the French, these boys are tall, athletic and proud, and believe me, they won’t forget it for a second, even while they’re kissing you. A smattering of little pecks on the cheek may ensue before a full-on kiss is achieved.

5) Swedish-

My research is incomplete on this one. I was fairly drunk. Yet, I remember he was extremely polite. The Swedish are known for their happy-go-lucky personas, and here, the situation was no different.

6) Kosovo-

A little bit sadistic, with a tendency to bite, but overall, a good mixture of good versus evil. Kissing takes on a whole new meaning and can last several hours with a typical native. Don’t forget the chapstick!

7) Romanian-

Romanian’s have a tendency to lead with their noses. If they like the way you smell, you can be certain they’re moving in for the kiss. If you pass the smell test, they’re a fairly romantic group of fellows and will kiss with a dramatic flair.

8) Polish-

Ah yes, the Poles. Quite lovely. Their kisses are abrupt, a little shocking, and usually at an inappropriate time. However, one can’t help but find it endearing, they mean no harm. Proving that, sloppy, if done correctly, can be a turn-on.

9) Spanish-

Not my favorite, I’d have to say. It was a bit too stuffy and rehearsed for me.


How’s that for international flavor? Now, where in the world is that Carmen Sandiego?

I’m walking in a spider web, so leave a message and I’ll call you back.

What is it about this time of year? Why do all the “friends”, who seemingly haven’t given a rip about our friendship all year long, suddenly come out of the woodwork and need a favor? It’s usually prefaced with, “Gee, Sally S, I know you’re really busy right now but…..” Fill in the blank here with anything from wiping someone’s ass to listening to their miserable stories of self-loathing. Either way, I’m officially the girl with the mop cleaning up other people’s shit. I need a more direct method of telling these so called “friendly” leeches to kick rocks.

In the meantime, other events are happening in the world which aren’t centered upon me. For instance, Ash Wednesday. All day long, my co-workers have been parading around the office with their big black smudges. On several occasions I had the urge to whip out a tissue and clean their foreheads. Is too much to ask these people to keep their Catechism to themselves? Not that I don’t enjoy the whole death/rebirth myth, but seriously, I shouldn’t have to see it advertised on someone’s face all day long. If I came to work with “666” written in pen across the bridge of my nose, I doubt it would be viewed as work-place appropriate.

In other current events HB 1293 (another lovely abortion ban from the right-wing nut jobs in Pierre), was struck down in the Senate State Affairs Committee! YIPPEE! I personally emailed each senator who voted against the ban and thanked them. And you should too.

Oh My My

Dear readers, I am so tired, tax season is kicking my ass. I don’t even have the energy to be spiteful!

Latvia, isn’t that by Libya?

THINK GLOBALLY, AVOID STUPIDITY

The general idiocy one encounters during a nightly excursion is frightful. First let me say, my sisters and I are expert liars. Since we are fairly well-traveled, more so than the average South Dakotan, we can pretty much get away with re-inventing our nationality at will. So, on Saturday night we ascended upon our victims with vigor, armed with our fake accents and a hodgepodge of facts.

We arrived at the house party at 9:30 pm, after heavily debating whether we should have “Prom Night” this weekend or next weekend. Let me explain. For Prom Night, each of us will adorn ourselves in THEE most garish obnoxious prom dresses ever- white gloves and all. During this shameless evening of cheesiness we will terrorize the city, one person at time. Sounds fun, eh? Anyway, I’m off topic, back to faking my nationality.

So, here we are, in a perfectly nice neighbor hood, Captain Morgan clutched firmly in my hand, as we walk to the door. Upon entering the house of said victims, we discuss the ins and outs of our plan, and rehash the basic elements of our story. Here’s the breakdown: Our parents, both high-ranking government officials in Latvia, left due to political pressure after the collapse of the USSR. We immigrated to the U.S. when I was about 8 years old, yet often return to our home during the summer months.

We began mingling with guests, using our fake accents as an opportunity to facilitate dialogue. Since the women at the party were out-numbered by the men, it was somewhat easy to lure them in. By 10:00 p.m., we had a host of on-lookers surrounding us, asking where we were form, how long we’ve been here, ect…

During the course of the conversation there were some serious displays of ignorance. Such as, “Oh yeah, Latvia, that’s by Libya, isn’t it?” and “No, No, No dude, Latvia is in Southern Europe, stupid” while he hit another boy on the head with his big gorilla hand. There were other cultural faux pas, as well as the occasional challenge. One guy actually said, “Ok, so what’s the capital of Latvia then?” To which my sister replied, “It's Riga, R-I-G-A” without missing a beat. However, if I would’ve told him the capital was Toronto, I doubt he would have known the difference.

After an few hours of delivering an Oscar-nominated performance, we left the party, dissolving into a fit of giggles as we stumbled to the car.

Score one for the foreign chicks.

To Teach, or Not to Teach, that IS the question.

SHOULD I?

Dear Readers, I have a dilemma. Yesterday my boss, at the local college I teach at part-time, asked if I could teach a graduate course in economics. While I consider myself to be a pretty decent accounting prof. at the undergraduate level, teaching a graduate level course is somewhat intimidating. On the other hand, this would be an awesome opportunity as far as career advancement is concerned. And more importantly, it definitely will stretch my teaching abilities, giving me the chance to grow as a professor overall. It would also require a tremendous amount of preparation and effort. What to do?

I’m not the type of person who avoids a good challenge. Yet it is important to balance the safety of sticking to the same boring routine with an overzealous attitude and unrealistic expectations. One can take on too many difficult projects at once and end up feeling that life has spiraled out of control. I have learned this lesson (and still am to some extent!) during the course of my career. Balance, Balance, Balance. Rinse and Repeat.

I was the girl who worked 40 hours, took 22 credit hours (with special permission from the college President) and still maintained a social life! How you may ask? Hell if I know! But, I do know that I still felt like I WASN'T DOING ENOUGH. This all relates back to KICK START THAT MULE, a feeling I have had to continuously fight. Am I doing enough? Have done everything I have promised to myself and others? I have high expectations for myself, so when I don’t perform my duties to best of my ability, it’s very irritating. Yet, perfection is not supposed to be the goal here- just learning and teaching. But, like usual--easier said than done.

Leave a comment. Opinions are welcome.

Seven Women Who Make My Teeth Sweat

Instead of posting cynical biting commentary on V-Day, I've decided to focus on the good things in life...sexy women. Here are my top seven, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. Happy V-Day.

kd lang



Marlene Dietrich



Natasha Lyonne



Eva Mendez



Greta Garbo



Marina, as seen on the "L Word"



Maggie Gyllenhaal



Feeling Love- Paula Cole

Where do i put this fire
this bright red feeling
this tiger lily down my mouth
it wants to grow to twenty feet tall

i've left bethlehem
i feel free
i've left the girl i was supposed to be and
someday i'll be born

i'm so tired of being shy
i'm not that girl anymore
i'm not that straight A anymore
i want to sit with my legs wide open and
laugh so loud that the whole damn restaurant
will turn and look at me and say
look at the tiger jumping out of her mouth

i've left bethlehem
i feel free
i've left the girl i was supposed to be and
someday i'll be born

no more sex-starved teachers
trying to touch my ass
i can finally be a teenager at age twenty-six
go to hell lions, tigers, and bears
i'm not afraid of you anymore

Good Is Good, and Bad is Bad

Boys n’ Girls, as Sheryl Crow would say, “Good is Good, and Bad is Bad, but you don’t know which one you had.”

Good things:

1) quasi-dates with 21 year old boy toys

2) gettin’ belligerent with customer service reps over the phone

3) a feeling of accomplishment after shoveling my entire drive way in less than 20 minutes in my stiletto boots

4) eating Cherry Nut ice cream while watching Loving Annabelle on my couch by the fireplace

5) tearing off my stockings and jumping into a hot bath after I get home from the bar

6) a big bowl of popcorn n’ jalapeños at 5:00 am

7) teaching Japanese to my 7 month old niece (if she’s going to be President by 35, we have to start early)

Bad Things:

1) conversations on quasi-dates with 21 year old boy toys

2) talking to belligerent phone reps after I’ve incurred their wrath

3) ruining my favorite stiletto boots in a hasty last-minute decision to wear them while shoveling

4) finding the fastest path to cellulite on my couch with 10 bowls of ice cream

5) freezing in a mini skirt in sub-zero temperatures versus third-degree burns in scalding hot bath water, you pick

6) being too lazy to find the dental floss at 5:00 am

7) having to actually learn Japanese

I’ll spare you the, “For every action there is an equal but opposite reaction” speech. But, life sure is funny.

Now this, my friends, is funny.

Ballot measure would require couples to have kids
By RACHEL LA CORTE Associated Press Posted February 7 2007, 11:15 AM EST

OLYMPIA, Wash. -- Proponents of same-sex marriage have introduced a ballot measure that would require heterosexual couples to have a child within three years or have their marriages annulled.

The Washington Defense of Marriage Alliance acknowledged on its Web site that the initiative was "absurd" but hoped the idea prompts "discussion about the many misguided assumptions" underlying a state Supreme Court ruling that upheld a ban on same-sex marriage.

The measure would require couples to prove they can have children to get a marriage license. Couples who do not have children within three years could have their marriages annulled.

All other marriages would be defined as "unrecognized," making those couples ineligible for marriage benefits.

The paperwork for the measure was submitted last month. Supporters must gather at least 224,800 signatures by July 6 to put it on the November ballot.

The group said the proposal was aimed at "social conservatives who have long screamed that marriage exists for the sole purpose of procreation."

Cheryl Haskins, executive director of Allies for Marriage and Children, said opponents of same-sex marriage want only to preserve marriage as the union of a man and a woman.

By RACHEL LA CORTE Associated Press Posted February 7 2007, 11:15 AM EST

Since the SD legislature just introduced a new abortion ban, I wonder if we could come up with a retaliatory measure too? Why not? I think it's definitely called for in this situation. And P.S., the guy who stands in front of Planned Parenthood praying each morning on my way to work is sooooooooo aggravating! One day I’m going to get out of my car and kick his ass! Happy Friday Y’all, Ms. Sally S.

Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?

Y’all, this summer I’m going on a va-ka (vacation) to Eastern Europe! I’ll be leaving for Berlin on June 24th, and returning on July 3rd. See the map below of all the cities to be visited:



I’m going to do an OBSCENE amount of writing while I’m on the trip, and will be posting regular updates to my blog as well. If you’ve been to any of the above places, and have any advice on what monuments to visit or cultural activities to partake in any advice would be appreciated. I’m starting to put together a list now.

Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego? (TV Theme Song)
By Yazbek & Altman

Well she sneaks around the world from Kiev to Carolina,
She’s a sticky-fingered filcher from Berlin down to Belize,
She’ll take you for a ride on a slow boat to China,
Tell me where in the world is Carmen Sandiego?

Steal their Seoul in South Korea, make Antarctica cry uncle,
From the Red Sea to Greenland they’ll be singing the blues
Tell me where in the world is Carmen Sandiego?

She go from Nashville to Norway, Bonaire to Zimbabwe,
Chicago to Czechoslovakia and back!

Well she’ll ransack Pakistan & run a scam in Scandinavia.
Then she’ll stick ‘em up Down Under & go pick-pocket Perth
She put the Miss in misdemeanor when she stole the beans from Lima,
Tell me where in the world is Carmen Sandiego?
Oh tell me where in the world is . . .
Oh tell me where can she be?

Ooh, Botswana to Thailand, Milan via Amsterdam,
Mali to Bali, Ohio, Oahu . . . !

Well she glides around the globe & she’ll flim-flam every nation.
She’s a double-dealing diva with a taste for thievery,
Her itinerary’s loaded up with moving violations,
Tell me where in the world is Carmen Sandiego?

Storm Chasers Have this Market Locked Down

In a newly manufactured home we sat with one another growing fat from the excess of dreams abandoned. Our instincts sufficiently dulled, we clung to the hope that one day we’d live outside of our square steel box. We held our children tightly, to protect them from the world and we rushed them down stairs when the wind storms came. Our homes, torn from their foundation, were scattered throughout the terrain. When we found each other, we were alone in our shells, mindlessly wandering around displaced halls. Do you remember me? We used to live here together. We ask these questions to spark a memory in our fading history. Humanity, in its inevitable isolation, is often shell-shocked from the experience of living, and reaches out for protection. But the foundation of our home, having been shook to the core, now moves freely, lifting itself from one valley to another. We embrace the storm and move with the wind, because anymore, there’s no safety in staying.

What I’m listening to: Alive- Pearl Jam

Son, she said, have I got a little story for you
who you thought was your daddy was nothing but a...
While you were sitting home alone at age thirteen
Your real daddy was dying, sorry you didn't see him, but I'm glad we talked
I'm still alive
Hey, I'm still alive

she walks slowly across a young man's room
She said I'm ready for you
I can't remember anything to this very day
except the look, the look
now I can't see, I just stare
I, I'm still alive
Hey, I'm still alive

Is something wrong, she said
Well of course there is
You're still alive, she said
Oh, and do I deserve to be
Is that the question
And if so who answers?
I'm still alive
Hey I, I'm still alive

Love, like SARS, is in the air.

It’s nearly Valentine’s Day, and once again, I forgot to fall in love. Evidently, I should move it up a little higher on my “to do” list for the year. Heh. Yeah.

On the other hand, Neko Case makes a good point.

NEKO CASE

"Hold On, Hold On"

The most tender place in my heart is for strangers
I know it's unkind but my own blood is much too dangerous
Hangin' round the ceiling half the time
Hangin' round the ceiling half the time

Compared to some I've been around
But I really tried so hard
That echo chorus lied to me with its
"Hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on"

In the end I was the mean girl
Or somebody's in-between girl
Now it's the devil I love
And that's as funny as real love

I leave the party at three a.m.
Alone, thank God
With a valium from the bride
It's the devil I love
And that's as funny as real love
And that's as real as true love

Karl Lagerfeld Stole My Boyfriend

Readers, I have been snubbed. Karl Lagerfeld stole my boyfriend. That’s right, boys and girls. See, once upon a time, I had this boyfriend who was super-excited to spend time with me, 24-7. He would call and write emails at least 10 times a day. He wanted to spend hours looking into my eyes, reciting poetry, and feeding me chocolate. He was, for all purposes, my man slave. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that screwing the pool boy every once and awhile isn’t fun, but it’s typically not thought of as a long-term arrangement.

Now, this division of labor (me laying there, him devoted to my every need) was ok for awhile, but dear readers, it get’s boring. Huge over-the-top displays of devotion only can take a person so far before time simply runs out. (Next please!)

Rather than telling my favorite sugar-coated candy boy to get lost, I rather coyly feigned interest for about a week, and then stopped giving him the time of day. Now, during this time period, evidently, Mr. Over Eager started to see someone else.

Readers, I am simply devastated! You mean I won’t be getting horrendously trite emails on the subject of my boundless beauty? Oh, the shame! Or, what about the late night phone calls declaring his love, do I miss out on those too? I cannot face the world! I think I shall crawl into the nearest hole and die.

And this other woman, gesh, she must be a dream come true! I cannot type anymore as my keyboard is drowning in my tears.

Fucking for Sport: A Hallow Desire

Is it desire that propels us from one stranger’s arms to another? Transforming desire into a workable philosophy of living is exhausting. In fact, doing so involves many late night trysts with foreigners, something I’d be hard-pressed to avoid.

Ever notice how the anticipation of the touch is always better than the actual touch? Absence is greeted with a warmer response than presence. In initiating the mystery, I often contemplated, is this desire?

A man once told me that I asked too many questions. I spent the next three years punishing him for it. When I walked by him and looked through him like a ghost, I wondered, is this desire?

A smiling devil once left my house with my virginity in his back pocket, and I locked myself in a room for days without food. When I purged him from my body, I asked, is this desire?

At 4:30 a.m. during a summer rain storm, I ran outside barefoot with raw knees and a sore mouth. And when I left him, he went home to his girlfriend. After I was inside drying, the thought crossed my mind, is this desire?

I wore a fabulous little black dress when I tied a handsome 21 year-old young thing to my bed post. Arms spread and stomach flat, I grabbed the whip. Red faced and skin glowing, I questioned, is this desire?

The question itself is rhetorical, an answer is not required.
I could go on asking myself this indefinitely, but it’s hard to think when the blood rushes in.

"Is This Desire?" – PJ Harvey

Joseph walked on and on
The sunset went down and down
Coldness cooled their desire
And Dawn said, 'Let's build a fire'
The sun dressed the trees in green
And Joe said, 'I feel like a King'
And Dawn's neck and her feet were bare
Sweetness in her golden hair
Said, 'I am not scared'
Turned to her and smiled
Secrets in his eyes
Sweetness of desire
Is this desire
Enough enough
To lift us higher
To lift above?
Hour-long, by hour, may we two stand
when we're dead, between these lands
The sun set behind his eyes
And Joe said, 'Is this desire?'
Is this desire
Enough enough
To lift us higher
To lift above?
Is this desire
Enough enough
Enough inside
Is this desire?