Well I love London..

Next year, I'm going to be a nanny in Switzerland. I'll get four weeks paid vacation! I can visit loads of places. I'm in the center of Europe. France and Germany are literally 30 minute train rides away from me. I get to learn a new language (German) and work a job that will be difficult but a nice transition from 4 jam packed years of college to becoming an actual teacher. Yes! Yes! Yes! I'm so excited for this. But you know me, I love London. I've dreamt about living there since I was 14. And sometimes I get a little bummed out on myself, like why didn't I try harder to get a job there for next year? I guess ever since I heard how difficult it can be to get a Visa, I panicked...I didn't want to end up jobless in the states. I guess, what I'm saying and am worried about is "Will I ever make it there?" After talking to professors and friends. I've been looking into international schools in London. They actually have job openings! It's brilliant. There's one that seems so perfect and is only 15 minutes away from the center of London! They have like 10 job openings! For me, this means, that I will love it up next year travelling and seeing new things! But while I'm there, I'm about an hour on a plane from London therefore I can visit and interview easily :) . I am going to work my ass off trying to get a position like the one fore-mention. I'll move there as a young 23 year old. It has to, has to, happen. I know plans never happen. And life isn't what we ever want it to be. But this..this has to happen. If nothing else. No husband or children. It's this. I can't let myself down.

White Blank Page

Last week, it was warm enough to do one of my all time favorite things... watch the stars. As I was laying there with one of my bestfriends in one of our favorite parks, we were talking about me leaving the country soon and all of that. I turned over to him, in all seriousness... and said. I can't see my future, it's like a blank page and that scares me. I can't picture getting married or having children. I have no idea where I'll end up or who I'll end up with. I can't see me as an old woman. Is this normal? His answer wasn't very comforting at all. His answer...I can see me getting married, having my dog, and my children. Coaching soccer. The whole sha-bang. Ever since then, this thought has been running through my mind. Why can't I see it? Does anyone else feel this way? Is it because I'm single? Is it because I'm flighty? Is it because I'm ending this chapter of my life? Or because maybe I'm not meant to even live that long. ahhhhh! my thoughts are so loud that I can't hear my mouth..

From Matilda to Ms.Honey

Today we were assigned to write a reflection piece of the steps we've taken to become the teacher we are or want to be. As I was making that drive home down HWY 99 from OSU back to my house. I contemplated this question... Where did Sarah as a teacher begin. Was it the day I volunteered in Crista's class four years ago? Or was it rooted far before that. Of course it was. It really was. I had an "aha" moment in my brain. It started to make sense. The pieces were fitting together to the puzzle that was me. Let me indulge a bit. When I was a little girl, I was always told by family members that I looked like "Matilda" or the "the little girl from Ms.Doubtfire". As I look back on younger photos of me, they're totally right (besides the haircut)..we really did look alike. What they didn't know was that I didn't really connect with Matilda because of how she looked but because of who she was. Well yes my parents were no Wormwoods but at the same time they weren't helping me with homework or even checking it for that matter. Bedtimes didn't exist..neither did bedtime stories. Dad sat home every weekend watching the tele. Every time I tried to talk about something of meaning, my mum quickly changed the subject to hair styles, celebrities, or boys. She still does...and I can't begin to tell you how disheartening that is to me. I love my parents, I really do but the academic bar wasn't set high for me. I had this innate intrinsic motivation and love for school. I LOVED school. During the summers I had total freedom but between the ages 5-8 I spent many hours reading these "read and answer" type of books. They were my favorite past time for some reason, even though those are what most kids hate and are very similar to standardized testing. I loved reading and loved the feeling of getting the correct answer. I also had my math books that I would work on throughout the summer. My parents never told me to do them, I told them to take me the store to buy them. Isn't that what every other kid did during the summer? Well..that's what I thought back then. As I grew older I was always a major player in class discussions and took everything very seriously. One thing I can honestly say is that I never took for granted my learning. Now it's 2012, I ran into one of my good friends from Highschool who I had various classes with the other night. He gave me loads of hugs and in between he kept saying how proud he was of me and that I worked the hardest in school out everyone. Maybe that is and maybe that isn't but that gave me perspective. School was and always will be my "thing". Now back to Matilda, she was like me because she had this innate drive and love of learning. However, without Ms.Honey, I wonder how Matilda would have turned out? What would of become of her? I'm no longer a little girl or the student. I am changing roles from Matilda to Ms.Honey. I can only hope that I will be as nurturing, loving, and passionate about teaching as this fictional character was. Teachers like this are

how students like me and Matilda make it. I need to give that back, it's such a strong feeling. I feel like I need to give that to somebody. Lastly, Thank you Daniel Dawber for getting me. You have no idea how happy it made me the other day when I was describing the teacher I am and you said "Like Ms.Honey" without even knowing that I wanted to be like her.

I wonder how it's going to be when you don't know me anymore.

Another night. Where I can't sleep a wink. I think this is how it's going to be from now on. I really do. I'm graduating in a month and half! and Today I spent hours making invitations with my mum. Clearly, I had to do some thinking. Who was I going to invite to these shindigs? Would it be weird to invite ___ or ___. But they've made such an impact on my life that I couldn't imagine not inviting them to my big event. If it's been ages, will they still remember me? Or is it now inappropriate because of new life circumstances? I don't know, some of the most influential people in my life aren't the conventional family members that are automatically invited, but damnit they still need to know how much they mean to me. Which of course got me thinking about these people or the connections that brought me to them. I'm starting to realise how much I lost or am losing. I always think about the new life that I'm going to gain as soon as it's July 15th and the things that I'm going to gain with it. but lately at night it's hard to sleep because I know that this really is the end of an era for me and my life is going to look a lot different...which I hope it does. hmm I guess I'm left tonight with the thought of, Did I give you up? Or did you give up on me? sometimes I just want my sister back. or sometimes I want my bestfriend who will drink wine in a can with me. or just that person that I can call to talk about nothing with. I guess this is what fills my head at night lately. Distance isn't really just a measure of feet or miles...some of you are so close. It's like i'm reaching out for something and my finger tips can graze it but I can't actually get a hold of it. That's what you feel like to me. It's frustrating and little disappointing. If moving across the ocean isn't what's keeping us apart, then what the hell is?

Sometimes you've just got to let go.

When I was growing up in the late 1990's, there was a huge field by my house with abandoned farm houses, plum trees, a pond, and a huge tree where we built a rope swing and fort.

I can diverge and talk about how I loved growing up like that. Everyday was an adventure with my neighborhood friends.
It wasn't sitting at home playing (insert video game name here) in an enclosed room like many children do now.

But this is not what this post is about.

So let's continue..shall we?

One day when I was ten, I was walking home from school as I usually did with my usual group of friends.
I remember I saw it first..

I stopped in my tracks.

My tree fort and swing were torn down. Yellow caution tape covered the tree.

That was my first memorable moment where something beautiful that I helped create was torn to pieces without my consent.

I resented the houses that were later created. Those construction workers, those families, every person involved on that side of the street was the enemy. I felt personally attacked. They took away my fields...they took away everything that I've come to know.

About seven years later, when I got my beachcruiser after highschool graduation, I rode it all the time. I used to ride the path to Alton Baker on a weekly basis.
There was this white swinging bench facing the river about half way between the start of the bike path and the end. I would always sit on it to read or write or to just think.
I adored that bench.
I also felt this weird ownership to it. Even though it was so clearly not mine to keep.

I told you. I have somewhere special to take you before I leave this summer.

So, I came back to Eugene and the sun finally decided to show his face! I hopped on my beachcruiser at the first chance. I wanted to ride back to Alton Baker. I wanted to see my white bench.

I was getting closer and closer.

And then I looked over.

there were two poles, two hanging chains...

and a sad empty space.

I had that same feeling that I felt when I was ten. It was such a vivid feeling that you could almost bottle it up and put it on a shelf.

Once I made it to my final destination, I sat on another bench and I thought about this for a bit.

There was only one thing I could do.

I had to let it go.

because when things like that happen... there's no going back.

no matter how much you want to.

What kind of life do you dream of? You're allergic to love..

Today, I got to hang out with one of my friends who I haven't seen in ages! It was so nice, we just chatted in her car about life and reminisced about old times, boys, and everything in between. In between the reminiscing and boy talk, I remembered something...
Me and my last boyfriend broke up two years ago today.
You ask, why on earth do you remember this?
Well, it so happened to be on the night of an important event of my travel abroad life.

More importantly, that means that I have been a single lady for two years now. That's the longest I've gone since I was 13...

A lot of people right now are in serious relationships, living together, getting married, and even having children.

I guess, I've gone the opposite direction and I know I talk about this a lot but I really realized that my ideals have changed drastically the past few years.
I used to be that girl who lived with a boy, wrote sweet notes in the morning, brought cookies to his work, and slept beside someone every night with my tableside lamp on reading while he was tucked in the covers dreaming away.
I was a girlfriend kind of girl.
definitely.

The last couples years, I got the taste of the travelling life which included meeting loads of people, gaining knowledge and experience, and constantly feeling life like really really feeling like I'm alive.

So I came back and stopped searching for that husband esque person. I started searching for ways to become more knowledgable, and pouring my heart even more into school and research. I also, searched for those breath taking whimsical life moments that don't come from every day humdrum.

Yesterday, as I rode my bike along the river and eugene bike paths of alton baker. I saw this couple and I somehow just really envied them.

They sat on a bench. His Arm around her. Looking at the rapid river. Completely silent.

I decided, that's what I want.

I want a love where I don't have to say a single word at times but enjoy life for the company and everything along with it.

I think it's beautiful.

I really do.

100 days of Sarah.

Lastnight I couldn't fall asleep.

I laid on my bed in the dark by myself.

I didn't count sheep..I counted in my mind how many days were left until I moved to Europe.
31 (may) + 30 (june) + 15 (july) + 24 (April)= 100!!

It's strange, I never counted the days before but I had this instinct feeling to count them lastnight and it was perfectly 100.

100 days of Oregon...the United States. Then who knows when I'll be back.

I always knew when I would be back before. But now the world is so open and it's just me.

It still doesn't feel quite real.

100 days.

What does that mean? Well so far..

day 100: Slept in, made homemade french toast ( was craving it)...wasn't as good as my mums, worked out, went to the eugene public library, overhead two guys sitting by me talk about their time in prison, ate lunch at cheba hut (white widow never tasted so good), rode my beach cruiser around, saw my sissy, hung out with the parents.
song of today: sea of love by Cat Power.