I hate it when my conscience tells me that now is not a good time to write. True, I do have a list from here to the floor (approximately two and a half feet… in case you were wondering. It’d be much more exciting if I were Santa Claus.) of things I need to get done. But I’m going to take a short break just to say hello for a minute.

So hi! Life this past weekend was pretty swell for me. Davis and I went home and explored the massive city I was raised in and found some delicious food along the way. It was great fun seeing my family and finding new things to do that weren’t so far away from home after all. We took an architecture tour, sat on a special bench, looked at handprints, saw a Bugatti (a real live Bugatti being driven around town!), ate a cookie ice cream sandwich and just wandered for a bit (among other things). It was so nice just having time together and not worrying about homework and projects and finals looming ahead of us. We really enjoyed each other’s company and headed back to school relaxed and happy.

But that brings me back to here. Since I was gone all weekend and refused to do any work (apart from making another batch of apple crisp for my Industrial Costs and Controls (aka accounting class) project) I’m sitting here with what feels like a monster behind me and very little courage to actually turn around and face it. So much to do, so little time… It will all be better once I’m done. And I made myself a paper chain countdown until the end too, because I thought (read: know) it will make things better.

Oh man, there’s so much to talk about. Like how I’ve now sworn off Facebook because it was making me depressed. No really, it was. Up until a little over a week ago, I’d waste countless hours of my life staring at this computer screen, waiting for *gasp* a new notification or an instant message or some sign of life, of someone out there on the other end doing the same thing I was doing. And then I’d proceed to beat myself up about it. I realized it was not only a time suck, but also a substantial problem, when I really wasn’t getting anything done because of it and then feeling like crap afterward. So I cut it out of my life completely. And you know what?

I feel so. much. better.

Still not a hundred percent, but there has definitely been a substantial amount of improvement to my mood. Though I must say, my room does feel a little like a prison sometimes, but hey, I’m working on that. Baby steps.

The one thing I do miss is the social updates, like if someone got engaged or if there’s a new Internet craze going on. People are a lot less likely to email things like that these days, and I’m sad that I’m not in the loop like I was. For instance, Davis read a friend’s post on how Lady Gaga’s new CD was only $0.99 on Amazon. Not an essential piece of knowledge, but something that I would have certainly jumped on except that I didn’t find out about it. Still, I’m not sure if it’s worth what it was doing to me.

Last week I also noticed a habit I have that’s been bothering me and could be contributing to a slightly sadder Sarah. My daily (or, well, nightly) routine goes like this: class, come home and do homework, sleep, wake up, do homework, go to class. On paper, it looks pretty symmetrical, but in reality, it isn’t so awesome. Why? Because there’s a minimal amount of relaxing going on in it. This really bothers me. I want to be able to have a little bit of down time before I jump right into sleeping and then repeating, but I have issues thinking of what to do. Any suggestions?

Sorry this post was kind of a downer… I did want to share it though. Be careful with Facebook – its powers might sneak up on you! – and I’ll write again soon!



I know some pretty awesome people.

And the thing is, I want to hang out with them all. I want to really get to know them outside of class and work and just become friends. But I feel so constrained by things we constantly have to do, and by the time I actually cross off the last item on my To Do list, I’m wiped and just want to sleep or space out and not do anything anymore. And on top of that, I feel awkward trying to be friends with someone if I don’t have a “reason” to go see them. It’s tough for me to be like, “Hey, I like you. We should just hang out and have awesome conversations together.” Why can’t I be like a preschooler who has no problem playing with any- and everyone?

So, to Ariana and Emily and Megan and Connor and Jasper, to all of you and to everyone else, if you’re reading this: let’s freaking do something together. Let’s sit around and talk about our feelings and how freaking amazing life is. Let’s make the most of the next four weeks, because it’ll just get harder once they’re gone. I like you all, but I’m shy sometimes. I’m going to make a conscious effort to spend time with you in the near future. Let’s do it.

In other random news, I just bought a “I Will Fight” bracelet (like the one Andrew McMahon from Jack’s Mannequin and Something Corporate wears!). I don’t know if I can properly express my excitement about this. Let me explain just a little bit: a long time ago, back in 2005 I believe,  when the rubber bracelet was the coolest thing ever, before I even *gasp* knew who Jack’s Mannequin was, Andrew McMahon and sold these bracelets to raise money for leukemia and lymphoma research. The quote is from the song “Watch the Sky” and refers to McMahon’s personal struggle with leukemia. I most certainly missed this boat and thus didn’t get a bracelet and after the fact I wanted one really really badly. Well, I just found out that they started making them again to sell them for the same organization, so I immediately and without any hesitation signed up for eBay and ordered one! Yes! It should be here in a few days. I don’t know if I’ve ever been so excited about a piece of rubber before.

Ah, life. You are so good. There is so much here that I have yet to explore. Thanks for being so freaking awesome. I can’t wait to learn more about you and to just live.


Getting Old

I’m kinda looking forward to getting old.

I realize that’s a bit ridiculous to say. I mean, here I am, 20 years old, writing about aging when I don’t have much experience with it. Sure, my body might have matured more from birth to this point than it does during any other time in my life, but I’m excited to see where I go from here.

I am fully aware that aging is not a glamorous process. Wrinkles, age spots, gray hair, you name it: in today’s world, there are remedies for each and every one of these, because people are afraid of showing how long they’ve been on this planet. Not to mention your body starts to give out on you (and let me specify here: I’m not looking forward to that.).

But forget the cures: I’m excited about it. Someday I hope that I have really awesome wrinkles. Not from furrowing my brow with worry or looking concerned all the time, but from laughing and smiling and enjoying life with my friends and family. I want my face to show my life, not some made-up version of it that I think people want to see. I want others to look into my eyes and see all I’ve seen. I want my hands to become weathered from working hard at my job and around my house and with my children and from holding someone else’s. I want my hair to fade from blonde to silver with time and to still brush it and think it’s beautiful. And most of all, I want to look like this because it means that I’ve lived to get there.

Doesn’t this excite you, just a little bit? I mean, why not aspire to be old and wrinkly and flabby, because it means you’ve gotten there? I want to move a little slower and really see the world. I want to feel the sun on my paper-thin skin and thank God for everything He’s given me. And I look forward to the day that I can slowly roll over in the morning, aches and pains and all, and look into my equally-old husband’s smiling eyes and know that he still loves me, as well as to do that every day from the day I get married until then.

Life is a journey, and by no means do I want to rush to the end. I love being young and quick and wrinkle-free. But I do want to get there, one day, and be one of those laughing and loving old people, still in love with life, still in love with someone, still really me.