Thursday, December 10, 2009

the i.d. bracelet and the BLOW OFF

Back when I was in 6th grade (de Vargas elementary school; class of 1992) i.d. bracelets were all the rage. If a guy got you one with your name engraved on the front, it was true love.   I snagged mine from one of the cutest boys in school, Scott Miller. He was like an eleven year old Brad PItt.   Scott and I were friends and I had a HUGE crush on him. Every time we had new seat assignments, I prayed to the heavens that he would be at my table.   And when god finally listened, we got kicked out of class for talking too much. it was a whirlwind romance.   Being the liberated feminist eleven year old that I was, I asked Scott out. In those days we just said "will you go with me." Go where?   No idea.   I asked him on the sidelines of his basketball game at lunch and he replied with an ever so confident "sure."   I later came to find out that his pencil box had been decorated all year with the acronym: S.L.S.F. (Scott loves Sara forever).   It was so romantic.

Scott finally gave me an i.d. bracelet from Things Remembered on the last day of school.  I was at the mall with him when he did it.  It had my name engraved on the front and "love, scott" engraved on the back. I thanked him with...a kiss on the cheek.   I still think my prudishness was what tore us apart.   He always wanted to go behind the portable buildings (the make out spot in our grade school), but i was too nervous.   The furthest we ever got was holding hands ice skating.   I wanted to make out with him, i just didn't know how.   As far as I remember, Scott and I never had a break up talk. In junior high school, we went our separate ways.   SLSF went out with last year's school supplies.   He was still popular with the ladies, while life dealt me acne and a unibrow.  As for the i.d. bracelet, I tossed it out my bedroom window and months later my dad found it while he was mowing the lawn.   When I went home for Thanksgiving last month, i found out my mom had kept it all these years.   It's still too big for my wrist, but i took it back to LA with me.   It's a sweet reminder that in sixth grade, i really had it going on.


  1. thoroughly enjoyed this. if ya'll knew Scott Miller, you'd know he was the coolest dude at our Jr. High. Ms Saedi def had it goin on then, and now. FOREVER.

  2. Damn, crazy times at deVargas. I have a yearbook picture of you from 6th grade. I think all the boys had a crush on you then. :)

  3. hahaha, T. it all went downhill after 6th grade for me!

  4. This was such a sweet story Sara. This is a favorite poem of mine. It's by the Persian poet Rudaki and it's about aging.

    Every tooth, ah me! has crumbled, dropped and fallen in decay!

    Tooth it was not, nay say rather, 'twas a brilliant lamp's bright ray;

    Each was white and silvery-flashing, pearl and coral in the light,

    Glistening like the stars of morning or the raindrop sparkling bright;

    Not a one remaineth to me, lost through weakness and decay,

    Whose the fault? ''Twas surely Saturn's planetary rule, long lapse of days;

    No, the fault of Saturn 'twas not, not the long long lapse of days;

    'What then?' I will answer truly: 'Providence which God displays.'

    Ever like to this world is--ball of dust as in the past,

    Ball of dust for aye remaineth, long as its great law doth last.

    That same thing which once was healing, may become a source of pain;

    And the thing that now is painful, healing balm may prove again--

    Time, in fact, at the same moment bringeth age where once was youth,

    And anon rejuvenateth what was gone in eld, forsooth.

    Many a desert waste existeth where was once garden glad;

    And a garden glad existeth where was once a desert sad.

    Ah, thou moon-faced, musky-tressed one, how cans't thou e'er know or deem

    What was once thy poor slave's station--how once held in high esteem?

    On him now thy curling tresses, coquettish thou dost bestow,

    In those days thou didst not see him, when his own rich curls did flow.

    Where are the days when my tresses could make you run!

    Time there was when he in gladness, happy did himself disport,

    Pleasure in excess enjoying, though his silver store ran short;

    Always brought he in the market, countless-priced above the rest,

    Every captive Turki damsel with a round pomegranate breast.

    Ah, how many a beauteous maiden, in whose heart love for him reigned,

    Came by night as pilgrim to him, and secret there remained!

    Sparkling wine and eyes that ravish, and the face of beauty deep,

    High-priced though they might be elsewhere, at my door were ever cheap.

    Always happy, never knew I what might be the touch of pain,

    And my heart to gladsome music opened like a wide champaign.

    Many a heart to silk was softened by the magic of my verse,

    Yea, though it were hard as flintstone, anvil-hard, or even worse.

    Ever was my keen eye open for a maid's curled tresses long,

    Ever alert my ear to listen to the world-wise man of song.

    House I had not, wife nor children, no, nor female family ties,

    Free from these and unencumbered have I been in every wise.

    Rudaki's sad plight in old age, Sage, thou verily dost see;

    In those days thou didst not see him as this wretch of low degree.

    In those days thou didst not see him when he roved the wild world o'er,

    Songs inditing, chatting gaily, with a thousand tales and more.

    Time there was when that his verses broadcast through the whole world ran,

    Time there was when he all-hailed was, as the bard of Khurasan,

    Who had greatness? Who had favour, of all people in the land?

    I it was had favour, greatness, from the Saman scions' hand;

    Khurasan's own Amir, Nasr, forty thousand dirhams gave,

    And a fifth to this was added by Prince of Pure and Brave;

    From his nobles, widely scattered, came a sixty thousand more;

    Those the times when mine was fortune, fortune good in plenteous store.

    Now the times have changed--and I, too, changed and altered must succumb,

    Bring the beggar's staff here to me; time for staff and script has come!

    These lines are particularly applicable to the blow off, and they're actually some of my favorite lines in Persian:

    That same thing which once was healing, may become a source of pain;

    And the thing that now is painful, healing balm may prove again--