Welcome Home, Quibbs.

introducing my newest pet, quibbols :)
and just in case he tragically dies like the others, i have a fourteen day guarentee.
but let's hope i don't need it.

Quest for the Perfect Fish.

I really want a pet fish. I was thinking about college and how much I'm going to miss my two dogs and so I decided to do some research. The only pets that are allowed at my dorm are fish and reptiles. Also, lately I've been playing with this application on Facebook called 'Happy Aquarium' and there's a bunch of fish that you can train and play with and such. I realize that in reality, you can't really train a fish. I still want one.
I like the idea of taking something living with me to college. Maybe I've gone off the deep end, but I guess it's like a comfort thing. The only problem is, I've never had very good luck with fish. I used to be a girl scout, and I'd get a fish every year from the carnival. One year I got about six fish and I took them all home and named them all after the dogs in my favorite movie at the time "Snow Dogs". But, one day I went in and there was only one left. So either they all ate each other, or they died and my mom flushed them without me knowing. The next time I got a fish, I didn't feed him very much. I was young, like seven or eight, and I didn't think he needed much food. So, he died. The next time I got a fish, I was so afraid he'd die like all the others that I fed him like five times a day. So, naturally, he died.
I haven't attempted to own a fish for about seven or eight years, but I think I'm more responsible now. I went to PetsMart or PetSmart or whatever it is yesterday with my friend and shopped for fish. I found a little black one with huge bulgy eyes and I instantly knew he was the perfect fish. However, this particular fish required a larger tank and a filter, which turns out to be kind of pricy for a spontaneous experience such as this.
Oh, I should probably mention that the death of my past fish may not have been all of my fault. My friend recently told me that filters are necessary with all fish. I didn't believe him, because my mom never told me I needed a filter, so it must be that I don't! Much to my dismay, I went to the store yesterday and asked the fish lady and she said yes, all fish need filters, except for the betta fish.
So, it was my lack of knowledge about aquatic caretaking, not my neglect or purpose.
Needless to say, I'm going to get a betta fish.

Bucket List

Bucket List:
Before I die I want to...
- meet Deisy
- put some crazy color like blue or pink in my hair
- get a tattoo
- hear someone's story
- visit a teenage rehab center
- ride a horse on the beach
- make an impact
- go to Alaska
- do something spontaneous
- adopt a baby girl from China
- meet a president
- take an art class
- touch a dolphin
- take a road trip to an unknown destination
- write a book
- stay from sunset to sunrise on a beach
- go to a concert with my dad
- start a non-profit organization
- have a conversation with jon foreman of switchfoot about certain songs
- run a marathon
- speak at creation festival
- give back to someone who has helped me
- sing at a karaoke bar
- ride a mechanical bull
- stay at Opryland Hotel

It's not morbid, just real.

I've never had a direct experience with death. I have known people in my high school that have died tragically and I have had two relatives die, but I wasn't really affected. I don't know if that sounds bad or cruel or whatever, but that's the way it is. So now, a young woman who I look up to and am close to might have cancer. She gets the results in a day or two, but I really can't stop thinking about it. What if this is my experience with death? I remember seeing the hollow look in this one girl's eyes after her boyfriend died in a car crash. It was like her eyes were completely empty, like she cried out every emotion she was capable of producing. I remember how heartbreaking it was just to look at this girl, let alone attempt to relate.
It's just crazy, the fragility of life. Two weeks ago we were care-free, no worries. And all of the sudden, a routine check up has taken a turn for the worst. It's like a fifty-fifty chance that my friend actually has cancer, so I guess I shouldn't be thinking that she has it, but I think that that's what people do. We hear about what might happen, and automatically assume that it will happen so that we can try to prepare ourselves. Our hearts are just as fragile as our mortality.
So what about me? What if it was me who was dying? What if I found out next week that I'm dying of cancer? Then, things like prom and midterms and college and boyfriends just fade away. They don't matter. It's ridiculous, how much I stress and focus on change and relationships and money and myself. It's all crap, all of it. None of it adds up to anything. What really matters is what is inside of myself, what cannot be accessed by anyone or anything but me, Sarah. What really matters is how I exert my insides into the air, the atmosphere, my daily life. What really matters is spending time laughing with my best friend after crying over my friend's possible illness. What really matters is smiling, saying sorry, hugging, and reconnecting with the people I have been 'getting around' to speaking with for too long.
What really matters is living, because it could be my last day.

Deisy

I want to go to Colombia. I sponsor a six-year-old girl named Deisy through an organization called Compassion International. For less than forty dollars a month, I can be sure that Deisy has clean water, medical attention, food, and schooling. I've sponsored her for a little over a year, and it was probably the best decision I've ever made. I love kids. I love working with them at my job, I love babysitting them, and I love talking to them. After hearing about the poverty and child labor problems all over the world, I wanted to help.
Really, I just want Deisy to be able to go to school and have food to eat and have the opportunity to live. An estimated 134 million 15-24 year olds are illiterate. Roughly 884 million people do not have access to clean water. More than six million children die from malnutrition each year. I am determined to make sure that Deisy doesn't become another statistic.
I have her letters that she writes me hanging on my door in my bedroom. The pictures she draws for me are hanging over my bed. She's so cute, she's got a doll named Margarita that she draws pictures of all the time, and she writes that she wishes she could show me her doll in real life. My favorite picture of all time is the one she sent me a few months ago, of two stick figures holding hands, named Sarah and Deisy, with Margarita beside Deisy of course.
I can't send her actual gifts, like a jump rope or a new doll, but I can send her whatever can fit in a standard size envelope and still be flat. So I usually just send her postcards and explain about my college and such. She asks me in every single letter to send another photo of myself. She says she has a collection that she shows to all her friends. Her mother wrote me and told me about how much I mean to Deisy. I can't even explain how good it feels to hear that I am directly changing the life of a little girl. That I mean the world to a little girl in a far away country. I want to go so badly to visit her, which is entirely possible. The organization offers several trips to bring sponsors and children together. I think I'm going to wait until she's around ten or eleven until I visit her, and hopefully the area that she lives in will be safer for Americans at that point. I'm going to buy her a jump rope and a hula hoop, because those are favorite things to do.
I am only her sponsor until she is eighteen, but I hope to support her for my lifetime. She's my little girl, and I love her.

South Pacific

I love Broadway. I just saw South Pacific last weekend in New York City, and it was wonderful. It takes place on an island during World War II, and follows around the personal affairs of a navy nurse and a lieutenant and a local man. I guess it's kind of a chick flick type musical, but I've found that they usually are. Oh man, it was just such a good show. The actors were great, the singing was awesome, and the orchestra was ridiculous. So good. I want to go back and see another!

NeverNeverLand or Bust.

I think over winter break, everything became real. I was no longer a teenage girl enjoying her last high school winter break, I became me, experiencing my last break with friends. It's me, one step closer to a completely different life. I haven't slept soundly since this epiphany. For example, last night as I laid in bed for four hours before falling asleep, I kept thinking about prom and the senior trip and college and how it's ending. My comfortable life here is ending. I will never see some of these people again, and that scares me. What if I don't fit in at college, what if I fail? I have a headache.
What if I realize I'm not a good writer, not a good speaker, not a good person? What if I can't decide who I want to be before I go? And what if I can't force myself to forget the memories that keep me awake at night? What if I'm going so far to run away, and I'm still not happy?
I just can't believe it's almost over. I can't believe that my best friend is going to be so far away. I can't believe that I'm throwing myself into a completely different atmosphere five hours away. I don't want to be forgotten. I don't want to grow up. And I don't want to face the reality that this is happening.
I'm almost thankful for these pointless next few months of high school. It's frustrating because I'm already accepted and I technically don't need these grades or these classes anymore. Like seriously, how is another semester of high school gym class going to better my education? But I am still secretly glad I have a final semester of high school gym class, because it is my last, and it means I'm still here, I haven't gone yet.
This is so stressful. I'm stressed about being stressed. I know that once I start planning and stressing about senior trip and prom, it will be here and then over. Why did it come so fast? And it's not like I'm the only one going through this, my entire senior class is anticipating transition. But I don't know if everyone is losing sleep over this. I feel like an adult.