Doctor Come.

I’m old.

Only one more year of teen-ness until I collapse into a big pile of twenty. I am not excited for this.

I think each year I am assaulted with more and more love on my birthday. Seriously, people come out of the woodworks to let you know that you are still cared for and that Halloween is synonymous with Sarah Smith’s birthday. It's a beautiful thing.

I think I don’t delete half of the people on my MSN because I wait until my birthday roles around to see “Happy Birthday Sarah!” on about fifty different people’s names.

And then there are the blog entries. I seriously have the best kind of friends who write thoughtful and funny blog entries, ALL FOR ME. And we all know how I feel about the blog.

All in all it’s been a great day. My Momsie and I went out to lunch and did some shopping where I was allowed to say “I want this and this and this ‘cause its ma bday.” Which is always very fantastic. My Mommy was very nice to me today. She gave me a portable filing cabinet and two cards and some Bingo scratch tickets and some Robert Borden's. As well as my little shopping extravaganza. Very nice indeed.

Then after serving a few trick-or-treaters (we actually got thirty-five this year!) I went out with my second generation S’ville Crew. We were going to hit up The Sprout (an all vegetarian restaurant) but the boys were like no meat, no dice. So the girlies and I will be heading there on Friday for Sarah’s birthday celebrations part deux.

We sort of celebrated for Rob as well, since it is birthday tomorrow and everything. So gifts were lovingly bestowed upon each of us.

I bought my very first legal drink, blue something or other. It was very sweet, in both the literal and symbolic sense. HAH. The guys of course topped me with a whole bucket of beer.

We had lots of yummy food and afterwards some of the people who worked there came out with oreo ice-cream cake and sung happy birthday to me. But they made me wear a sombrero. It hurt my neck.

It was a wonderful end to a wonderful day. And it definitely rallied last year's multiple celebrations on my birthday’s behalf.

Thanks to everyone who made it truly freaking awesome. I know I say it all the time, but I have THE BEST friends EVA.

Love.

BIRTHDAY GIRL.

Extreme birthday post coming tonight, but for now: BIRTHDAY GIRL.

No dice in Wolfville.

Near the end of August I remember sitting at my kitchen table and assembling my very own WWUD?. It’s one of these meaningless memories I can remember with ridiculously vivid detail.

It was hot out, I was wearing bermuda-cut jean shorts and a black tank top. Oprah was on the television in the living room and through a small section of the door I could see the juggling kids she had on as guests. I had just gotten back from the Dollarama and Bulk Barn and was enjoying the chocolate caramel balls I had purchased.

While crafting I was talking to my true love, aka Ashley, on the computer. She was helping me through my frazzled worries on what would happen if the faculty at MUN went on strike. Whenever I have a question Wikipedia can’t answer, I go to Ashley. She is second in command when it comes to knowledge.

She assured me that even if they went on strike I’d still have classes. Saying something along the lines of “Honestly, how do you think the thousands of people who go to MUN would react if classes just didn’t happen.” Knowing Ashley is always right, I grew calmer.

Boy, I bet she wishes her words were true now.

In case you haven’t heard (and if you haven’t, seriously, pick up a newspaper once in awhile) Acadia has been on strike for almost three weeks now.

That means for the 3400 students (WTF, why is Acadia so small?) who are going there, well, they aren’t going there.

There have been no classes or labs or instruction of any kind since the strike has been called. The students have wandered back to their home in a confused is-it-summer-yet? daze or instead stuck around campus doing pretty much nothing (like our little class of ’06 valedictorian, Ash).

“So what have you been doing all this time if not studying and going to class?” I asked her. “Um, helping teach calculus tutorials. Doing a bit of work every now and then. [She’s like Lisa Simpson in that episode where the teachers go on strike and Lisa comes home to this “EMERGENCY TEACHER’S STRIKE” kit and orgasms as she listens to a recording of the school bell] I’ve been visiting people out of town. And sleeping a lot.”

I told her that under different circumstance having a few weeks off to sleep and veg out would be awesome, but this isn’t really the way anyone wants to go about a vacation.

Grading schemes and credits are all up in the air. Nobody knows how covering the material, going about exams, or even just completing the course is going to happen. I would be extremely scared.

Thank goodness MUNFA has extremely low standards and caved to a small wage increase before the strike even started.

I thought she was Madame.

THE GUY WHO DID BABAR'S VOICE WAS FROM NEWFOUNDLAND. EXCITING. MY CHILDHOOD JUST GOT 13% MORE AUTHENTIC.

Gooo Wildcats.

Last night Robyn hosted a STELLAR party in honour of her very own 19th birthday. It was the best kind of party and everyone had a blast. Thanks Robynnn! :)

There was some great tunes, Robyn and I have crazy similar tastes in music so that alone made the whole party happy. Robyn, Yvannah and I have decided that we're going to go dancing at some point and let everyone just stare in wonder. I CAN'T WAIT. We sort of practiced last night.

I'm going to now post a crazy amount of photos so that if Robyn would like to steal some she can (the ONLY exception to my "don't-put-my-pics-on-da-facebook, biatch" rule is it's okay when it's your bday).

(Jeremy "unknowingly" gives me the finger)

(AJ was there! It was the first time I've seen him this semester :O)

(Little Marcus Durdle! I grew up with this kid back in S'ville and he moved
when he was like five. Now he's Robyn's roommate this year! SMALLEST WORLD EVER)

(Kayla's twin, I found it frightening)

(Gifts based on Canadian made cartoons are the only kind of gifts I give,
AND GROW YOUR OWN PONIES OF COURSE, I can't believe I didn't get a picture of that)

(Awkward family photo, I positioned Jeremy's face, hands
and smile like that - JUST LIKE AT WAL-MART)

(Sometimes I'm just a whole lot of awesome)

(I asked Robyn to make the same face she made on her last birthday,
but she couldn't remember what it looked like.
She tried her best though!)

(Everyone in the living room at that point and time actually sat still long
enough for me to get a panoramic shot - I was severely impressed)

Love for Robyn alwaysss.

I feel like I'm in a gear.

Sometimes, I really REALLY love my friends.

EDIT: Nobody seems to have caught on, but the reason Rob is doing that is because he super glued his fingers together. IT'S HUMOUROUS.

The neighbours they adored him, for his humor and his conversation.

Tis Friday! You know what that meansss:

IT’S FRIDAY LOVE LIST TIME

These are the things this week that made me giggle a little louder, smile a little harder and love a little longer:

Cool holiday inspired blog headers
New fancy printers
Arctic androids
Realizing my birthday is in five days
Realizing Darryl will be home in a week
Completing an awesome RL-S tunnel :)
Nip/Tuck
Broken heart museums
Kanye West
Halloween sized Coffee Crisp bars (so I can eat like five and say: “THEY’RE ONLY SMALL IT’S OKAY”)
Designing a costume for Ookpik
Crush cream soda
Being almost done midterms
SUPER LONG WEEKENDS EVERY WEEKEND
Discovering Imogen Heap is 6’2”!!!!
Wigs
Spicy fries
Gossip Girl finally introducing Vanessa Abrams (even though this is the first time they’ve so righteously destroyed a character)
Christmas is officially less than two months away

Encouragement goes out to everyone to write their own love listsss. Even though some of you guys blow and obviously missed the point of a blog (it's to write in it on a semi-regular basis). I still love you anyway.

Veganism and hamburgers.

Dear Al Gore,

I am so sorry. I try, you know? I really do. I want to lower my carbon emissions, I mean, who doesn’t?

The milk thing really threw me for a loop in my decision to become vegan. By drinking milk I am not vegan – but it didn’t mean I was going to quit trying! That’s what this whole thing was about, trying to help out the environment a wee bit.

That’s why I feel terrible. When a BBQ was suggested I knew it meant trouble but I went along with it anyway. But when I sin, I go down good and hard. Not just a meat ridden hamburger, but one with cheese on it – dairy cheese. And not just a cheeseburger. . . a bacon cheeseburger.

Put on the shackles! Send me to Syria or worst, your country’s capital. I deserve any punishment you see fit.

And since its confession time. . .

I might have plugged in my television last night. But it was only for an hour! The National on the CBC had a special report about the liquor plebiscite occurring in Kugluktuk, NU. I’m a Poli Sci major for goodness sakes, there’s only so much news I can squeeze out of websites and newspapers! And trust me when I say: Nunavut is never high on the list of things to report about.

So in conclusion, I promise to try harder. Its one thing to accidentally eat a gelatin filled marshmallow. A meaty, cheesy, bacon-y burger tends to be a whole other ball field.

Sincerely your partner in global warming crime fighting,
Sarah :)

Here's a present, where's the ice cream?

So, like, omigoodness! Guess what everyone? TODAY IS ROBYN MCHUGH'S BIRTHDAY. Stellar. I'd tell you to head over to her blog and send wishes, but let's face it, none of us really understand her Xanga layout.

Robyn, as I've told you many times, you are well loved (by me in particular). You like music. And you like kids. I would also wager a guess that you like musical kids.

Anyway, remain the same always. Become a famous musical tutor so I have someone to send my [improbable] children to.

HAPPY 19TH BIRTHDAY, RO-YNNN!

We went bowling.

(I won!)

Sitting on a cornflake, waiting for the van to come.

Weird story time.

I told my Mom today that I wanted to sign up for the other watercolour class I mentioned in an earlier post. Expecting resistance and a speech she replied with “Well I guess I can give you a bit of money for that.”

. . .

NO RESISTANCE. Not only no resistance, BUT AN OFFERING OF MONIES. She won’t pay for my degree but she’ll pay for this?

So I asked her. I said right there with my mouth still agape in shock: “Do you want me to be an artist or something?” she replies “Well you can’t really do anything with that, but you could sell paintings” to which I say “THAT’S WHAT AN ARTIST DOES, MOM.”

So then I tested her.

“Maybe after I get my degree in Political Science I’ll go do a Fine Arts degree. I could offer private classes like Pat Ryan does [the person who teaches me]”

DO YOU KNOW WHAT SHE SAID?

“There you go, that’s a good idea.”

I swear to Our Lady of Guadalupe she was serious. I will never understand her for as long as I live.

Your mail's not safe in this town.

This week The Lady of Shalott finally got hung up on my wall. What? I’ve only been living in St. John’s for over a year, we’re still trying to get organized.

As she sits there quietly above my desk, I realize it’s the first thing I’ve hung on my bedroom walls. To hang something up means permanence. A plan to stay. My own Mom never hung a single picture or painting up in the whole house until my brother came home for a visit in July and was like WTF where are my baby photos?

I came home from the North in August to a house laden with graduation photos, Sarah/Darryl montages and pretty much any piece of artwork my brother or I ever did that was framed. We get it, Mom. You love us.

I don’t plan on ever living in St. John’s permanently. Well, unless I get some ridiculously awesome job which doesn’t happen EVER (read: Axel Meisen moves to Alberta for a better job, THE IRONY IS NOT LOST ON ME, FRIENDS).

But, it occurred to me that I treat my new home as a hotel. A lot of my stuff is still in giant Rubbermaid containers from the move a year+ ago. It’s sad.

Unfortunately I don’t have the gumption to change it. I don’t want this to be my home. I don’t like anything about this home or this city. Man, how I loathe this city!

What to do, what to do. . .

Vendredi liste d'amour.

There is only one thing on my love list this Friday: Charlie the Unicorn.



I'm filled with joy and joyness.

You can't change what doesn't happen.

I ran into someone today that I rather wish I hadn’t. Okay, that sounds bad. I was actually really happy to see him and the smile I offered, when it registered in my head who it was, was a genuine one.

All that aside, it still threw me for a loop. Kind of like, they don’t exist here. Does not compute.

And the conversation that ensued would be the reason why I was subconsciously dreading this meeting. . . We spoke for probably five minutes covering a wide range of topics, but neither one of us said what we both knew the other one was thinking. It was the most palpable definition of the phrase “the elephant in the room” that I ever witnessed.

I pathetically had a hundred questions I wanted to ask but I walked away with a “see you around” before I exploded with them.

Ugh, guilt gut. Stop thinking about it, Sarah.

In happier and completely unrelated news, a new scarf is in the works! This one is being completed with giant new needles and natural wool. It's so frigging soft, I'm never using acrylic wool again.

Brown scarf, 10 stitches
59cm long

Peppers and an uncompromising Iran.

Insomnia is a bitch.

I'm going mad with this lack of sleep. Covers on, covers off. Music on, music off. Temperature high, temperature low. Fan setting on, low, high, medium, low, off. Check alarm. Check alarm again. Get up and pee. Covers on, covers off. Check alarm once more. One pillow, two pillows, three pillows, no pillows.

Sleepless nights come and go, but this has been an endless one going on almost two weeks. I slept in yesterday. I had a morning class at nine and I slept right on through it past ten. It was with hot prof too. :(

In other news, my painting class went really well yesterday and I’ve decided to sign up for the advanced watercolour class which starts at the end of October. I super like the painting I’m working on now. We started still-life which is actually something I’m familiar with thanks to Deals.

The painting is of three peppers and I’ve decided that if I don’t screw it up, I’ll get it framed and give it to my Mom for Christmas. Her two requirements for giving me a small fortune to pay for my art supplies were a painting and credit for starting my art career when I’m a “famous artist”. At least I can assure her the first. She actually ended up paying for my current class too, which is shocking on its own. If I didn’t know any better I’d say she was encouraging my art infatuation. . .


I’ve been trying to research this paper for my International POSC class. The prof posed the question “Does a nuclear Iran represent a threat for Canada?” Obviously I immediately thought “YES”, but after reading a few articles I’ve decided it’s much easier to write paper if I say “no”. So I’ve started over again which kind of blows on a whole other level.

Do you think a nuclear Iran poses a threat to Canada?