Sunshine

Sunshine

September 20, 2004 - March 20, 2009

We will miss our little Sunny so much. She brought our entire family so much happiness, laughter through tears, and more love than any human being is capable of giving. We will love her forever and ever and ever and ever.

l i s t e n .

i can't get enough of the handsome furs lately.

take comfort in beautifully gruesome visuals and lyrics that feel like home. who isn't confused these days?


Handsome Furs "I'm Confused" from Sarah Marcus on Vimeo.

no debate. just listen. and enjoy.

Maybe I'm Not Irish

I have had a tumultuous relationship with Jameson for over five years now. I still remember the night I met him. I was in Florida with two of my best friends, Gina and Armen. We were at a bar on Delray Beach. The bartender introduced us. We were discussing whiskey and he recommended Jameson. It was love at first taste. I decided right then and there I had Irish roots; my unknown great-grandpa obviously wore a kilt and looked like a leprechaun. I brought Jameson back to Utah with me and the rest is history. Sure we've had a few break ups but he'll always be my one true love. Sometimes I wonder what my life would be like if I had never met Jameson...

(Insert movie dream sequence music here.)

Would I still have a hole burned in my stomach? What about Sharon, my drunk alter ego? Would she still have been born? Spitting on people and yelling at my friends? Would family Christmases be more clear? Which relationships would have been cut short and which may have lasted longer? How many secrets have been slurred? How many friendships strengthened by the unspoken commitment to finish a bottle? Would I understand talking shrimp? Would I have still made out with what's his name? Would I ever have had the courage to sing Backstreet Boys in a full bar? How many truths would be left unspoken?

Jameson hasn't always brought out the best in me. In fact, he may be responsible for bringing out the worst. But he is always there for me. He just understands. Lately, he's been a real jerk. Forcing me to drink too much, too fast; encouraging me to call people names; begging me to drink him on the rocks; making me miss work for him; insisting I pass out in my car or puke on the sidewalk. It's not ideal. But then there are the times when he makes everything perfect: Just a skosh to warm my belly while I listen to brooding music; a double shot to celebrate a friendship; one cocktail to share hysterical stories; one too many shots that cause rosy cheeks and anger (but not real anger).

So maybe I am not Irish after all. (As adequately displayed last night. R.I.P. corned beef and cabbage.) Maybe I am not equipped to drink 5 out of 7 days during the week. Maybe I am just a lush. The point is, I do love my Jameson whiskey. And I know I can count on him to be around for the next few years of goosebumps, first kisses, mistakes, and hangovers. And that, my friends, means a lot...

guitar arms

i love 'em.

always have. always will.


baby, you have to swear you won't leave me.

Happy Birthday Smooth Jazz!

I feel guilty writing this being so tired and with such little time to do so. Today is a VERY important day. Today is my sister's birthday! And holy hell do I love her. So much. Happy Birthday Mindy, Martina, and Martin!

I wish I could have been around on the day that Mindy was born. You know, as an adult. To really experience and remember that day. I celebrate her birthday now for many reasons but sometimes since she's my older sister, I forget about her being a little baby girl. I wish I could see her chubby cheeks and baby scowl. I wish I could eat her up. I forget about her being the most important person my mom and dad ever made. She was the first baby for two high school sweethearts, the first grandchild on both sides, the first great-grandchild on both sides, the first Grace, my grandpa's first cowgirl, the first of five Hitchcock's, the first Mindy. The one and only. I bet that day was so full of happiness and love that it has yet to be rivaled.


I could go on and on and on about our trips, adventures, stories and mishaps. Those are good memories. I could talk about this little shit who has become the love of my life:


But he's not going anywhere. And this is HER day.

I guess in addition to all our inside jokes, and her ability to make me laugh so hard I have to beg her to stop talking, I can say I am the luckiest little sister in the world because...

She has talked me off many ledges. 

She has given me courage when I didn't have any. 

She has given me advice knowing I needed it but probably wouldn't take it. 

She helped me raise the most amazing daughter ever. AND she gave me the most amazing nephew ever. 

She tells me when I am wrong. 

She laughs at my jokes. 

She worries about me and can tell when I am blue.

I can tell her anything.

She has taken care of me and our little brother and sisters. 

She makes me eat. She lets me sleep. 

She's got my back. She once told a girl that was making fun of me, "Laugh one more time and I'm going to come over and kick that smile off your f*c$!^@ face." 

She has known me my whole entire life. I can honestly say that nothing I have done has made her love me less. And I've done a lot, I repeat, a lot of shitty things. 

She's stood by me when no one else would. She's my sister and my best friend. And I swear to you, I feel like she loves me more than anyone in the world does. And she just might.

So Mind, here we are. You, sis, have never been more beautiful than you are today; you are shining brighter now than I've ever seen you. You are an amazing mother, wife, sister, aunt, and friend.

Happy Birthday! We shall celebrate over a martini soon, I promise.

Glory Days in the Wink of a Young Girl's Eye

I love it when awesome bands cover my dad's songs. We all grew up with his music and it's nice that the kids are paying homage to his timeless tunes.

I found this video today and it made me cry, in a good way. I love Gaslight Anthem. I discovered them completely by accident a few years back. I think the video and song made me cry because it's my dad's 56th birthday today and no one loves The Boss more than him. And while I haven't seen my dad for awhile, I suddenly want to. Really bad.

My generation of music collides with my father's in this awesome Springsteen cover:

Gaslight Anthem - Backstreets



If I were in the mood to share some more good music with people who don't deserve it, I would also note that my dad's latest album, Working On A Dream, might be a little prosaic and somewhat grasping, but still respectable for a 69-year-old rocker. (Okay, he's only 59, but age is nothing but a number.)

Here comes more good news... The genius behind Dad's new album is that he and The E Street Band called upon my experience to do some awesome marketing and PR for them. Check out their site Hangin' On E Street. You'll be delighted to find other hip artists covering their songs. (Hint: "Glory Days" by The Avett Brothers and "Dancing In The Dark" by Ted Leo.)

Mama, I Love Tim Kasher

Well I do. And you should, too. First of all, he sings for Cursive. Cursive's albums The Ugly Organ and Happy Hallow were the soundtracks of my life during the winter of 2006 .

I think I had The Ugly Organ on repeat for the entire month of November. My grandpa was dying, I was in lust with a tall, dark-haired, tattooed boy, and I rarely got out of bed. "Art Is Hard" played over and over again as I drove to the city to watch strange bands and be alone with the snow. Kasher's vocals on "Sierra" tore my heart out and made me love my daughter's father for all his faults.

Happy Hallow is the quintessential album for anyone from a small town or whom has ever questioned their religion. "Bad Sects" provided a paradisiac milieu for beer-flavored make out sessions. It was an escape from the dark winter that personified death. This verse alone narrated our empty realationship:

Some nights he'd proclaim his preference
But only flat back drunk on a bottle of Jameson.
One of those nights we stayed up, the two of us.
Singing our lives, just the two of us.
We were hiding in the dark,
I fell asleep by his side.

I love Tim Kasher for totally different reasons as the front man for The Good Life. Who can resist his softer, more forgiving side and even-tempered songs? Not me. "You're Not You" from Album of the Year is easily on my top ten list for one of the best songs ever written. If you dig a little deeper, you can also find his collaborations with Bright Eyes, Rilo Kiley, Thursday and Son, Ambulance. Yea, he's good.

Anydamnway, the reason I bring all this up is because Cursive's new album Mama, I'm Swollen is dropping March 10!

And...it gets better...you can get a digital 320 mp3 version today for $2! It's true. Yesterday, it was $1, tomorrow it will be $3, increasing $1 per day until the official release date. Totally sweet deal!

You can find the links to purchase the album at Saddle Creek or via the Cursive website.

Buy it, love it, live it. You won't regret it.

In the meantime...lay on the porch with someone you love--despite their flaws--and listen to this:

Cursive : Bad Sects

Yea, What She Said

Sometimes I struggle to find the right words for the things I want to communicate. I've been known to verbally vomit (especially when I have been drinking or thinking too much) and everything comes out all wrong. I mean, even when I am super articulate I wonder if the audience really understands my intention. I think that's why I love music, poetry, books, and good friends so much.

There have been times when I have heard a song and physically had to sit down because the lyrics destroyed me. They could have been my own. Did the writer feel just like me? I mean EXACTLY like me? I sure hope so. It allows me to believe that I am not crazy; none of us are. It even makes me believe that there is a beautiful way to express just about anything.

Then there are times when words aren't needed. Maybe it's unexpected homemade cookies to cheer you up, an anonymous (and, incidentally, perfect) birthday gift, a look across the room, someone brushing your hair out of your face while you're talking, a friend's kiss on the cheek, or a hug that neither of you want to end. Sometimes you just get it. No words required.

I like it when that happens. People are good. Real life is good.

If the Brakeman Turns My Way
by Bright Eyes
When panic grips your body
And your heart's a hummingbird
Raven thoughts blacken your mind
'Til you're breathing in reverse
All your friends and sedatives mean well
But make it worse
Every reassurance just magnifies the doubt
Better find yourself a place to level out

Got a cricket for a conscience
Always looks the other way
A cocaine soul starts seeming like
An empty cabaret
Hey, where have all the dancers gone?
Now the music doesn't play
Tried to listen to the river
But you couldn't shut your mouth
Better take a little time to level out

I never thought of running
My feet just led the way

Mixed-up signals
Bullet train
Cars are switched out in the crazy rain
I could meet you any place
If the brakeman turns my way

All this automatic writing
I have tried to understand
From a psychedelic angel
Who was tugging on my hand
It's an infinite coincidence
But it doesn't form a plan
So I'm headed for New England
Or the Paris of the South
Gonna find myself somewhere to level out

Are your brothels full, oh Babylon
With merry middlemen?
Never peer out of their periscopes
From those deep opium dens
All this death must need a counterweight
Always someone born again
First a mother bathes her child
Then the other way around
The scales always find a way to level out

I tried to pass for nothing
But my dreams gave me away

Mixed-up signals
Bullet train
People snuffed out in the brutal rain
I could live to any age
If the brakeman turns my way

It is an old world, it's hard to remember
Like a dime store mystery
I'm a repeat first-time offender
Who has rewritten history

Mixed-up tea leaves
Phantom pain
Fuzzy logic in the the crazy rain
Getting better every day
If the brakeman turns my way

Mixed-up signals
Bullet train
Cars are switched out in the blinding rain
He'll be smiling as he seals my fate
When the brakeman turns my way

Bright Eyes : If the Brakeman Turns My Way