Dramatically Boring “End of the World” Post

When I first heard the theory that the world would end at the end of 2012, I was in the sixth grade. My history teacher was the one who told us, an entire class of very gullible twelve year olds, who probably all went home crying. I worried about it for weeks. I even remember making all sorts of plans on how to avoid death in 2012. One such plan involved a sort of escape pod. I was twelve. Cut me some slack. My dad told me to stop worrying. He told me, “If it ends, it ends. There’s nothing you can do to stop it.” He was right, so I didn’t worry anymore.
I know that end of the world scares are bogus, and sometimes humorous, but I’m sure that we’ve all thought, “What if it actually ends?” For my sixth grade mind, I imagined that I would be sitting with everyone in my family in the living room. That seemed a good way to go. Actually, what I’ve done in the past twelve hours has been quitting my horrible job, going to my best friend’s b-day party, and now I’m sitting on my bed and writing a post with six hours and twenty-two minutes on the clock until zombies. Or aliens. Or solar flare. Or something more insane.
What will I do with the remaining six hours?
I’m taking a shower.
Reading a book or two.
And then I’m going to sleep. (I’ll still be cheesy and set my alarm for four thirty just so that I can see for myself that I’m not dead. Heh. Heh.
The thought of dying doesn’t scare me. I view it with Peter Pan’s philosophy. “To die will be an awfully big adventure.”
I don’t believe that the world will end, but if it did and someone spent one of their last hours reading this, I’d feel pretty important.

Thank you, dearest readers, for listening to my craziness. You greatly inspire me.
Peace, love, and joy,
Sara

Free Write

I've never posted a free writing segment, so I guess I'll start now. For anyone who doesn't know what free writing is, it is the act of continuously writing about, well, anything. You don't have to have a topic, you just have to write. It's basically a stream of consciousness that gets written down.
Here goes nothing :)

Sometimes I think too much. Way too much actually. My thoughts get too deep and then I end up sort of in a daze. I wonder if Koas is dreaming right now. Gah, I don't want to go to work tomorrow. Counting pills and waiting on sick people is very dull. I wish I could go skydiving, or something else really dangerous and exciting. I want to go on a real adventure. Sometimes I wish that I could go on adventures like I've read of in books. Scratch that, I ALWAYS want to go on amazing adventures like the ones I've read about in books. It's just the thought of it that excites me. Danger and beautiful stars. I want to see real stars. There is way too much light pollution here to see the majority. I want to see other planets with life. I want to go to new worlds. Worlds just starting out. Worlds where no creature has polluted and tortured the planet that allows its existence. I want to fly, and sometimes I don't want to wake up. In dreams, everything is possible. In reality, I am burdened. One day, I want a garden. I want a cottage in the woods. I think I've had that dream ever since I saw Matilda when I was younger. I wanted to be like that teacher whose name I can't remember. The  pretty blond one, not the crazy one. When I go to college, I hope I don't have a psychopath room mate. That would suck.

Peace, love, and understanding one's inner crazy,
Sara

A Post for Koas

I don’t have any pictures of us together goofing off, or just being nutters (heh), but you happen to be one of my greatest friends. As part one of your Christmas present, I’d like to write you a post in letter form that expresses my gratefulness for your existence.
Ready.
Set.
Go!

(Please enjoy this picture of Koas which I edited as a comic book panel.)
(Also, I stole it from his Facebook profile)
(I’m such a bad person)

Dear Koas/British Buddy/awesome guy,
                                                       I knew you were cool as soon as you killed me on Call of Duty. See, normally I might have been mad, but how can anyone be mad at someone who is not only hilarious, but also has an English accent? That’s right. You can’t. I know how annoying I must’ve been in the beginning when I could hardly understand what you were saying to me. I was naïve enough to think that every English person sounded like the actors on Harry Potter, but that is clearly not the case. For whatever reason, you continued to talk to the crazy American girl who is slightly mad and who can never finish sentences properly when she talks.
There are a few things I have learned from you, and I’m going to list those:

1. The time difference between here and Oxfordshire. Without even thinking anymore, I know what time it is for you vs. what time it is for me and the likelihood that you are still awake. Also, time differences suck. Majorly.
2. I now understand many British slang words. However cool they may be, I’d look stupid using them here, so I refrain.
3. Geography. Now I understand more about where things are located in England, and in Europe period.
4. Minecraft. You were the first person who told me about it, even before my friends knew of the beautiful game.
5. How much a postcard costs to mail. I love going to the post office and telling them that I need a letter mailed to England.
6. The cost of living in London. I have done extensive research on the matter, as I plan on living there one day.
7. How Americans are perceived in other countries.
8. How not every place on this planet is as close minded as some of the places I know.

You have an awesome taste in music as well, and you’ve introduced me to countless amazing bands which I listen to on a daily basis. Also, we are going to have to make a cover as soon as I get a mic and a reliable software, so prepare yourself, good sir.
You also give me hope for an amazing future. I know that sounds corny, but it’s true. When I think of all the places I’ll go and all of the amazing people that I’ll meet later in my life, it makes me so happy. Somehow, knowing you has made the world both even larger and even smaller than I had known before. Larger, because you have become the boy who lives in my computer and always has hilarious stories to tell me about life across the pond. Larger, because I can’t hop in my car and drive five minutes down the road to hang out with you. Smaller, because even though I know you’re thousands of miles away, it never feels like that to me. Smaller, because I was lucky enough to find such cool person on Xbox.
Thank you, Koas, for sticking around in my life and for making me laugh on my worst days. I know that I can be really crazy sometimes, but thanks for toughing it out anyway. You’re one of my best friends despite the time difference and the thousands of miles of ocean and land in between our separate parts of the globe.
Peace, love, and learning to type even faster,
Sara