I happen to really like the names Paul, Andrew, Christopher, Lucas, Adam, and James. Should you be of the opposite sex and called by any of the names aforementioned, I just might like you a little more. It’s like instant kudos or something. Yeah, I’ll admit to being influenced by something as silly as that. lol.

Something I’ve observed: Girls named Sara(h) will probably at some point in their lives date a guy named Joe. I know of four different occasions. Four may not be that big of a number, but four is definitely a big coincidence. At least, I think it’s a bit odd.

Hello, my name is Sara. And I am a teaholic. I may drink as many as six glasses of iced tea a day. No joke. I blame it on the DaVinci Gormet flavored syrups. Amaretto. Irish Cream. Coconut! Mmm.

I was happy. Or at least I was happier. For the past four days, I’d felt really happy. I didn’t quite know why, until yesterday I crashed from my mysterious high. That’s when I finally figured out my unexplainable mood-boost over the past four days was due to my reading of E.M. Forster’s “A Room With A View.” Imagine that. I think it’s because he reminded me of Jane Austen. That, and there’s just something about literature from the late-1800s and early-1900s. The language used in the novels is filled with subtilties not found in contemporary novels. Subtilties that pull at you, resonate with you more than anything direct ever could.

“I am a Jane Austenite, and therefore slightly imbecile about Jane Austen. My fatuous expression, and airs of personal immunity– how ill they sit on the face, say, of a Stevensonian! But Jane Austen is so different. She is my favorite author! I read and re-read, and open the mouth and the mind closed. The Jane Austenite possesses little of the brightness he ascribes so freely to his idol. Like all regular churchgoers, he scarcely notices what is being said.” -E.M. Forster

I went to one of Kelsey’s XC meets this afternoon. At Marymoor Park! I like that park. I cheered for both my sister and her boyfriend, Jay. I’d clap and yell, “Yeah, Jay! Yeah, Kelsey! Whoo! Go Jackson!” It was quite fun. I felt proud when Kelsey would run past. She’s more athletic than I’ll ever be. When I cheered, it was like I was announcing: “Hey, that one’s mine! I’m related to that one!” Yes, I was very proud. Love you, sis.

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