It's weird to think this is the last day of the year and it's even more strange to think it's the last day of a decade. At the beginning of the decade, I was still in high school celebrating the new year with a ton of friends at some ranch (with some snow if I remember right). I'll be ringing in the new decade at my house with my sweet dog and lovely husband while thinking about going back to my job after a much needed and wonderful break.

Yep. Some big and beautiful things happened for me this decade.

I'm looking forward to starting this new year out on the right foot. I know everyone is! That's what's so great about New Year's Eve - everyone has pretty cool plans for themselves. It's one of those days where it's absolutely okay to be totally selfish! You can make plans for you - your life, your job, your daydreams! It's the one day where nothing seems too impossible to accomplish. Man, if we could just live the other 364 days of our year that way. That would be really, really awesome.

Anyway... I'm going to continue introducing my cast o' characters.

This. Is. Coda.   

She's darling, but she's a pest. She looks too cute to be a pest!

About a week after we moved in to our totally rad house, Coda bolts out the doggie door, and there's a rustle. Oooooh...a rustle (that's for suspense). Brian thinks it's a cat, but he's worried it's a snake. Because our house is on the river, and we haven't fully explored, he really has no idea what it is. So, he comes in the house and wakes me up (never a good thing), and he wakes me up like this: "Sara, wake up! Your dog just attacked something." MY dog. Mine. Not his when she does something bad. Mine. Ugh. Love you. :)

Okay, so MY dog has attacked something. I get up and go outside. This wasn't just any something. It was a horrible, horrible something. The yard smells like nothing I have EVER smelled before. She attacked a skunk, a sometimes adorable from afar skunk, a stinky, smelly, not-sure-what-purpose-they-serve-in-this-world skunk, and apparently, it's MY problem. (Again, love you!)

So, I'm upset and grossed out (the smell, I tell you!), but I'm also really sad for Coda. She got hit right in the face. I think she can't see, she's rubbing her face in the ground, vomiting, foaming at the mouth, and looking so pitiful. We're not sure what to do, so we try to clean her face off as best we can and get her some water and food to get the taste out of her mouth. Then, we leave her outside. I felt like a terrible mom. What are you supposed to do, though? Brian assures me that she's a dog and can handle being outside, but I'm thinking, "she's going to think we're mad at her." Brian's right. So we do.

Pest.

You would think she's learned her lesson about attacking things in the night. She hasn't.

it is an ever-fixed mark

Brian Scott Carlisle - time-clock fixer and inducer of belly laughs, lover of dogs and chef extraordinaire. This is the guy that turned my life into a romantic comedy. He gives the best hugs and the sweetest kisses. He makes me laugh too many times a day to count.

This is the man I love with my whole heart. The most amazing thing? I know he loves me with all of his. He lets me know every day that he does. He tells me often and in a lot of ways. I'd like to take this opportunity to list a few:

1. He always wakes up before me. He always wakes up before me and hardly moves, afraid to wake me up. He also says he thinks I'm pretty in the morning. That's love right there.

2. He listens to my music. I'll go out on a limb and say that I have great taste in music, but there are times when I don't want to listen to great music. I like Christmas music in July and I like disco music any time of the year. I also love show tunes and Disney songs. He listens. And loves me.

3. He's going to help me with this techy thing. You see, he's all tech savvy...and I'm not. He loves me so much that he's going to spend time helping me with this thing that I will waste time doing.

4. He argues with me. And concedes. Regularly.

The End.

Aaaaand...Here We Go!

I've decided to start a blog.

Why? Because someone (mostly me and people who like me) should be interested in the ramblings of a twenty-something teacher who has better things to do with her time than blog, and yet, she decides to do it for you. You, my friend.

I've been thinking about doing this for a while. I need a place to write informally about things that are funny or things that I think are neat, but keeping a journal feels pretentious. Yes, I'm fully aware that blogging is more pretentious than journaling, but I don't care. Also, there's this part about everyone being able to read what I write that just might keep me in line. Journals are dangerous things.

I am a blogger!

But blogging is already harder than I thought it would be. Maybe it's that "staying in line" part, or the "Sara, no one is ever going to read this silliness" part. Maybe, though, just maybe, it's only the first blog that's hard, the "here's what I'm going to do and here's why I think I'm important enough to write for you" part. That's tough, man. But I will carry on.

I'd like to attempt to describe what has led me to believe that Brian and I are living in our very own little sitcom world. I'm just waiting to find the cameras in our house. I'm waiting to find the channel that is showing our lives on TV.

Also, I might share some artwork that I made. That's a big "might". We'll see.