Tuesday, April 22, 2014

Passive Aggressive Hat War (that may or my not actually be happening)

I have special permission to wear a hat at school, because, well, just....because. I'm special. Just don't ask about it. Most of the staff and teachers know about it, but some of them still don't know that I have permission to wear hats. Some of the people I know also think me wearing hats is 'against the rules,' which technically it is. For everyone else. This causes some harassment and hat-stealing, which really sends me over the edge.
I alost ALWAYS wear SOMETHING on my head, even at home. (Slight tangent: I wear hats so much that I apparently 'look like a totally different person' without them. My good friend Audrey was doodling a picture of me on the bus and even added a hat. It's hard to imagine me without one.)
Anyway, I usually wear hats to school. This combined with the glasses and the almost-constant presence of coffee gives me the nickname "Hipster."
That, however, is beside the point. The point is that I'm currently (probably) in a hat war with some of my fellow students.
They don't have special permission to wear hats, and whenever a teacher sees them with a hat, they're told to take the hat off. Sometimes when this happens, I'm walking with that friend (wearing a hat, of course) and they shoot me a quick glare.  They don't usually say anything, of course, but sometimes they do.
"How come you get to wear a hat?" They sometimes ask.
"Just because." I usually reply, trying to grin cockily. "Because I'm awesome."
Once in Biology class, a boy (who shall remain anonymous) was told by the teacher to tae his hood off.  "Well how come Sara gets to wear a hat?" He asked, seemingly annoyed. Luckily, my biology class is awesome.
"Be cool, ____." Someone said. "Let Sara wear her hat."
Fellow students at this school are usually okay with my hat-y-ness, but, like I mentioned earlier, people steal my hat in class sometimes. This always freaks me out a lot, but I fortunately have very cool friends who understand and help me steal my hat back.
Thanks you guys, if you're reading this. I mean it. Thanks to you and you and you.
You guys are awesome, I don't know what I'd do without you <3

Monday, April 14, 2014

An Inside View as to What Happens to me when I Eat Chocolate

The title is long, true, but this post is one of the most important posts you will ever read in your entire existence. This is big, this is a huge deal.


I hope you understand how big of a deal this is. This is from my point of view and it's what happens to me when I decide to eat chocolate. Here is the way my brain works in a step-by-step diagram....

  1. I notice the chocolate. 
  2. I pretend that I don't notice the chocolate that I just saw.
  3. I tell myself that I can't eat the chocolate because it'll bring on the apocalypse/cause acne/take over my mind.
  4. I slowly walk over to the chocolate.
  5. I study surrounding of the chocolate, looking over my shoulder as well. I need to make sure I'm not being watched and it's not a trap.
  6. I make sure it's dark chocolate. If it's not, I scoff in disgust and leave instantly.
  7. I again check to make sure it's not a trap.
  8. I slowly and carefully unwrap the chocolate.
  9. I take a tiny bite out of the corner and let the chocolate melt in my mouth.
  10. I lose all control of myself and proceed to eat/make out with the chocolate viciously.
  11. My face is usually covered in chocolate afterwords.
  12. I usually go through periods of blacking out/extreme spastic-ness followed by complete chillness and relaxation.
  13. I pretend that the whole thing never happened.
Wait what's that
Omgz is that chocolate
Oh gog it is keep a poker face Sara
I really wanna eat it now

That about sums it up. If anything or ANyONE is in the way when I spot high-quality chocolate, I insist that you get out of the way.
I'm serious, it's for your own safety.

Thursday, April 10, 2014

...FiEsTa!!! (Also Chuckles the Water Clown)

Don't ask me why I named my post this, I have no idea either.
It might be because it's fourth quarter and  we're nearing summer.
Perhaps it's due to the fact that I didn't have coffee and it's six in the morning as I'm writing this.
Or maybe I named the post FiEsTa because I was just feeling bored.
As you may have noticed (or may have not), my posts have been a bit irregular compared to how much I used to post. I apologize for this, it's just been harder and harder to come upon inspiration for posts lately. It seems that pictures from my desktop and stories of vicious dogs just aren't gonna cut it anymore.
The real reason I've made this post is to ask for your help. I need something to post about, I've run out of ideas, and you, dear readers, are my LAST HOPE.
Do you guys have any ideas?
Any flashes of fantastic inspiration that you wish to share with me?
Any random epiphanies?
If so, I'd be thrilled to hear about them. If you give me permission to make a post about them, well, you've just saved my blog.
Aslo my English grade.
Also it would help me get un-grounded and get my phone back, that would be truly fantastic.

Now to skip to another, less boring and less serious topic.
Chuckles the Water Clown and Slenderman.

Le setting:
I was with one of my good friends, Anna, last summer. We were at Bear Lake with Anna and her family and my family, too. That includes my little sister, Nina, who I owe a ton of credit to for helping me with this awesome prank thing, if you could call it that. Actually, since Nina obviously inherited her prankster genius from yours truly, let's say it was mostly Nina who did all the work.
It was  a heart attack for Anna and the rest of us laughing about it until she tipped the kayak over.
Bear lake, in case you don't know, is a huge, massivelybiggiant lake that is super, super blue. It's always very fun to go there, as there is a beach as well and the water temperature is fantastic. Not to mention the fact that Anna's family has a boat that they so kindly let us use each summer.


Nina, Danielle (Anna's li'l sis who's Nina's age), Maria(Anna's littler sis), Anna and I were sitting around the campfire one night, roasting hot dogs (and after that, marshmallows). Our parents were there too, but they were all sitting at the table talking about the plans for tomorrow. Us kids and teens were the only ones at the fire. We were all staring into the fire, watching the flames dance. It had been quiet for a while. After a few more minutes, Nina spoke, her face eerie with all the flames flickering over it.
"Do you want to hear a ghost story?" She asked, followed by a sinister grin, one that I was very proud of.
At this point, I was a bit alarmed, seeing how Nina is the ghost story MASTER and Anna (no offense to her of her sisters) is pretty gullible and easily frightened.
"Sure!" Anna replied. She had no idea what she was in for.
"Uh, Anna." I said quietly. "Are you sure you want to hear a ghost story?"
Anna nodded eagerly, and I sat back in my chair, watching the fire crackle. It was dark out, slightly windy, and I couldn't help but shiver a little. I could almost FEEL Nina's wonderful awful idea build over the flames.
"Nina, are you sure about this?" I asked her. She nodded. "....Okay."
So she began.
"Once there was a boy. He went to the circus with his family for his birthday. He was turning..." Nina thought for a second. Even the tiniest details counted. "He was seven." I tried to hold back a smile. I had never heard this particular story before, but I knew it was gonna be good. Nina's stories almost always are.
"There was this clown at the circus that was totally cool. He kept giving the boy all sorts of attention and popcorn and things. The boy was having a great time!"
I was beginning to get a sense of where this was going.
"Finally, the clown (whose name was Chuckles, by the way) asked for a volunteer for one of those thingamajig boxes where you saw people in half. You know those boxes?"Nina asked. Anna nodded.
I thought to myself that the story could be better if she worded it a bit differently, but I wasn't complaining. Anna looked vaguely freaked out, and that was good enough. Fortunately, the story was getting better as it went on.
"Well, the boy raised his hand and of course the clown chose him. as the volunteer. Chuckles took the boy to the middle of the circus ring and put him in the box. The boy was getting pretty nervous because Chuckles hadn't said a word the whole time. Also he locked the box."
Anna nodded in anticipation.
"Chuckles leaned down and whispered something in the boy's ear, still smiling. Do you know what he said? He said, I have deceived you."
(Parts two and three in further posts)

Thursday, April 3, 2014

I usually like animals. Just not when they're attacking me.

As the title quite clearly states, I usually like animals. Actually, I love animals. I have lots of pets that I take good care of, and I'm always ready to donate some of my time and love towards any creature, ever (except for cave centipedes. Those things scare me to death.)
Usually, dogs like me. Only under two instances have I ever been attacked by dogs. Once was by two vicious black poodles (The big ones, not the little ones.) and once was by a half-starved boxer and a pit bull. Surprisingly, I've never actually been bitten by any of these dogs. The poodles attempted to, and the boxer wanted to, but neither of them did.
I think I'll start by telling you the story of the boxer and how my dog heroically saved the day.
Nina (my little sister) and I were told to go take Fuma, our dog, on a walk. We went outside and put her on a leash, and we were off.
We weren't fifty yards from our house when these two dogs came barreling towards us at full speed. Like I mentioned earlier, one of them was a boxer that looked like it hadn't eaten in a week or so, and the other was a pit bull that looked pretty big and had a collar, like maybe it belonged to someone.
I quickly let go of Fuma's leash. There was no way she would be able to hold her own against a boxer and a pit bull. I wanted her to be able to run.
I instantly told my sister not to run, but she was panicked, so she did. She made it to the large aspen tree in our yard and began to climb it.
The pit bull was pursuing her, but it didn't look very aggressive. It was wagging its tail and panting, the hair on its back was down, and looked more like it wanted to be petted than everything.
Nina was safe up the tree, but I had a very aggressive boxer barking and snarling at me. I remained calm, no screaming or running away or anything. I knew that if I began to run, the dog's instinct to chase and take me down would kick in.
I was, at this point, trying to figure out a way to simultaneously teleport me, Nina, and Fuma inside.
The boxer was beginning to get more aggressive. It was growling, barking and snarling, and it was kinda making these little half-lunges at me.
At about this time, Fuma, my awesome dog, jumped between the boxer and I. To my surprise, she drove the vicious dog back from me. The boxer and pit bull were obviously intimidated, and they ran off, giving Nina, Fuma, and I the chance to run inside.
Don't believe me?
Ask me in person.

Wednesday, April 2, 2014


Take this survey? If you don't I'm gonna fail English.

Here's the link.