Sara sans "h"

You know how actions have consequences? It is rare that we actually predict those consequences accurately. These consequences are inevitably present, whether good or bad. There is no stopping them.


I have decided to create world without consequences. Capitalism would cease to exist. There would be no more economic crisis. No one would ever get cancer, or gain weight. No one would have anyone dislike them. Grades would be long gone. One could never be fired for making a bad call. Hell, no one would even have to have a job for that matter.

We will all be able to have whatever animals for pets we would like. And when that Koala next door attacks me, there will be no insurance claim the neighbor needs to worry about. And my poor Corgi would want to retaliate, but that would be a consequence the Koala would be suffering, so it wouldn’t happen.

No writers would receive credit for any of their work, because plagiarism wouldn’t be a problem anymore, as it is only a consequence. So really, we would all become infinitely more intelligent because the knowledge of the greats could be claimed as our own. Or I could pretence like I wrote Harry Potter and J.K. Rowling would know, but she couldn’t enforce any kind of consequences upon me. But I also would reap any benefits, as those are consequences, simply with a positive connotation.

And I would be able to wish someone a happy birthday despite my previous actions. Because my previous actions were consequences of his actions. Therefore, my actions never would have existed in the first place.

And the world of this kind of anarchy would have ceased to exist centuries ago. So I will go and eat an entire pan of brownies all by myself, gain ten pounds while not having a Corgi by my side to protect me from the Koala the next door that the neighbors aren’t allowed to have because it is against the law and not collect royalties because I didn’t pretend to write Harry Potter because I would have been sued so bad that my debt from that court case would have exceeded that of my college education.

And I won’t tell you happy birthday.

I meant to write this over the weekend. And then I didn't.
Anywho, first forty-hour work done. 51 (among countless others, but I am thinking the short term here) to go. I already hate Mondays sufficiently more than I did in college. And I really, REALLY, hated Mondays when I was in college. (It's very strange to say that. "When I was in college...When I was in college...I feel old.)
My room (read, Andrew's room) smells like lilacs right now. This candle has turned boy territory into a delightful spring walk. Kudos to the candle and soap shop where my grandma works for producing such a powerful, yet pretty, piece of craftsmanship. Bonus points for the fact that there is glitter that will forever be a part of Andrew's room. Muah hahaha.
On an entirely unrelated note, I started character sketches for NaNoWriMo. I have my two main characters formulating and the third in the beginnings. I also have a kind of working plot in mind. I'm very excited for November.
However, before November comes the GRE. So I need to start working on that little bundle of joy that will enter my life in the end of October, preceded by months of preparation and a financial hit of $160.

I was sorting through forms from the most recent swine flu vaccine the Health Department had, and as I was going through I found quite a few interesting takes on how to fill out a form.
1. For children: when it came to the box that said "age," you'd be surprised the number of parents that put their own age in the box out of habit. And some that put the wrong ages. I can only hope they have a few kids and just forgot which form they were filling out at the moment.
2. Lots of people over the age of 70 didn't bother putting their age in the box. I think they may have lost count over the years. I know I wouldn't bother doing the math anymore. My grandpa turned 93 yesterday. I asked him how old he was and he asked me if I had a calculator so I could tell him.
3. One lady was 102. When she wrote her birthday in, she put 01-01- (19)07. I hope when I am 102 I have the awareness to make sure people realize I am not only two years old by adding the century to my birthyear. If I make it to 102, that is. I could just see myself in 2090 being mistaken for a two-year-old because all that someone knows about me is from that form.

I've officially started my first day of service as an Americorps Volunteer at the Warren County Health Department.
Things I have learned so far:
1. There is a drawer containing one thousand, literally 1,000, condoms in my office. We hand out free condoms, no questions asked, and this morning a couple of kids (estimated to be around 12, 13 max) came in for some condoms. The public nurse came in to my office and explained the system and where stuff is. Apparently there are a few more thousand floating around the building hidden in different storage areas. I have never seen so many condoms in my life.
2. I, too, can quit smoking. The brochure was very thorough about how there is nothing wrong with me, just that I am not to be controlled  by my habit. I wasn't sure how to break it to the pamphlet that its words were being wasted on a non-smoker.
3. My laptop has Windows XP, which had some way cooler games than Vista does. I really miss that old pinball flash game I used to play all of the time. But I am still pretty good at it.

Things I have learned living with a house full of (mostly) boys:
They never flush. I feel like I am living in a house of sims that go to the bathroom on their own, which is great! But they don't flush. And might not wash their hands.
Gross.

I got a new layout for my blog. Pretty, huh?

So I have decided to participate in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) this year. During November, you write a 50,000 word novel.
I wasn't a creative writing major at Knox, nor have I ever written anything near 50,000 words long, much less something that demanded creativity. But I feel like I could produce a novel worth not showing to anyone, ever, and be able to say that I wrote a novel. Even if it is a really bad one.
And when I say really bad, I mean that it might be as bad or worse than Twilight.
But it won't be about vampires.
I promise.

According to my site tracker, someone from Omaha, Nebraska, looked at my blog yesterday. Here's a shout out to you, Anna, because I know (read, hope) it was you. Otherwise I have a Nebraskian stalker. Anna, will you be my Nebraskian stalker? The title comes with a certificate!

In other news, in 24 hours, I graduate from Knox College.
In 24 hours, I am no longer a part of academia (until I go to grad school, that is (which I will be doing someday, despite the statistics not in favor of that)).
So what does someone staring real life in 24 hours do? Pack? Watch bad TV? Apparently another big thing is to be drunk?
That doesn't appeal to me. Instead, I am going to go and shake hands with everyone (that shows up) in my class in 30 minutes.
And by shake, I mean high five, because my right hand is still all "itis"-y and can not be shook.