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I voted. I considered posting another picture of my sweater voting like I did last time, but decided not to bore you with something I’d done before.

Besides the picture looks almost exactly the same, except my sweater is white this time and I have two brown “I Voted” stickers instead of one. Which really just made my sweater look like it was hosting two giant brown nipples. Which it’s not.

After voting I handed the electronic card back to the woman and asked if she could see if my brother had remembered to vote. She looked, and he hadn’t. She stuck a second sticker on my sweater and said, “When you see your brother today tell him you have his sticker and won’t release it until he’s voted.” I laughed and then walked through the school out the front door, proudly showing my nipple votes to the small children milling about.

I will not be showing Ben his sticker. I’m sure the woman would understand.

A friend gave me a Sonicare for my birthday. I know what you’re thinking, “That’s an extravagant gift from a friend.” But it’s okay because we almost got married once.

I’ve been wanting one for a while, but have a hard time justifying that much money for a toothbrush. That sort of cash should be spent exclusively on hot jeans or shoes.

I was so excited I immediately ran into the bathroom to try out my new toy. However, I made the mistake of putting the toothpaste on and turning the brush on before putting it into my mouth. Not my smartest move! Rather than hugging my friend and thanking him for the gift I managed to get toothpaste in his eye and all over my bathroom. Awesome.

Dear Internet,

As I looked around the multiple birthday celebrations this weekend I couldn’t help but notice a theme. Well, beyond the “drunken good times” theme I always abide by. I’m talking about the friends I’ve found through you. You’ve brought so many spectacular people into my life I might not have found otherwise.

Thank you for that, and I’ll consider it my birthday gift this year, since you didn’t provide me with free shipping from Sephora.

Love, Sarah

I’m 32 today. I know this because my mom left me a voicemail telling me so. It went something like this: “Good Morning sweetheart, it’s your birthday. Have a good day.” Direct and to the point… I can appreciate that.

Today is like any other day: wake up, swear at the alarm clock, drink too much coffee, shower, get ready and go to work. Only I don’t want to. I want to lay around and be lazy. So I compromised; I didn’t shave my legs, which is fine since I don’t think birthday sex is on my agenda today.

In honor of today, I decided to post a picture of little Sarah:If the writing on the back is correct this was taken on my third birthday. Not a lot has changed with my sleeping habits. I still sleep with pink pajamas, only they don’t have feet anymore. Ernie has been replaced with a pug, my bed is a little bigger now, and I don’t sleep with a beanie. Unless I’m cold.

Dear Sis,

I hope this letter makes it in time to tell you I couldn’t find Hello Kitty wine for your birthday. Sorry. I looked EVERYWHERE, and I don’t know if it actually exists. But I tried. However, I did find this sweet bike for you.I was going to get it and send it to you by boat, but I’d starve the rest of my mission. We don’t get a whole lot of money. Sorry. Maybe next time.

How old are you going to be this year? Was it 21 or 22? I can’t remember. By the way, I thought you’d like a picture of me with Sapporo beer. Ever tried it? Any good? I was about to buy it and sent you some but realized two things: I was transferring the next day and it might be bad to show up with beer in my luggage, and also you can probably buy it in Utah. Notice the symbol for beer in Japanese. It may be useful when you come pick me up! I love you and thank you for everything you do for me. Including the time when I was little and you tricked me into getting drunk. I really thought I was drunk even though it was apple cider. I’ve never have any alcohol since that day. I think I was four of six. You were a funny sister to have then and now.

Happy Birthday!!!

Love, Elder Bear

My Visiting Teacher or the Holy Ghost left these at my door. Just another reason why I don’t like Halloween—rather than the usual baked miracles she leaves me, I’m left with what I can only assume is Shrek fingers made out of bread dough.

I wanted to wish everyone a Happy Halloween, even though I’m not a fan of the holiday.

Halloween week freaks me out… I hate seeing people dressed weird and wondering if it’s their normal attire or a costume. Case in point, last week I saw a couple sporting Spock ears while downtown for the Sarah Vowell reading. Costume or just freaks?

I’ll be celebrating the holiday the best way I know how: drunk in Maddie’s basement watching bad vampire flicks.

And here’s to hoping her fat cat left me some candy!

My father and I have nothing in common that extends beyond shared physical attributes. This said, we don’t get along. I stopped being daddy’s little princess the moment I learned to form my own opinions. Stop. We do have something in common! We are both opinionated and built with razor sharp tongues.

Lately I’m starting to realize my parents aren’t getting any younger. I want to spend more time with my family now than I ever have before. I mentioned to my mom I wanted to have a positive memory of my dad as an adult. She agreed this was important. So I went out on a limb and found something we could hopefully bond over.

My dad is a runner, and has been as long as I can remember. Years ago he and my brothers would run races together. This was exactly what I needed! I decided to call my dad and let him know I’d started training and would he 1) buy me running shoes for my birthday, and 2) run a race with me this spring.

This request had nothing to do with religion, school, family or anything we tend to fight over. This was just feet hitting the pavement, and yet somehow it turned out to be the usual friction between us–He was his typical abrasive self. I faked my way through the conversation and quickly hung up. Then I cried.

I’ll never have the kind of father I think I want. But I do have a father who loves me and would do anything in his power to protect me. Why isn’t that enough?