Sunday, September 29, 2013


Just so you know, I'm SUPER SUPER SUPER bad at keeping my word.  I'm surprised I got through Kuehl Kids without a major breakdown *whew* but now that school's around I just can't seem to make myself write another Sunday Serial.  

Instead of a Serial, I'm going to *selfishly* write about my life again...

This week was decent.  As you saw from my last post, I did fine two matches ago.  The second match, on Thursday, was a different story...

We played a team that was almost as good as the team we'd played before.  And for some reason, I just kept cracking during my matches.  Result?  Losing all three sets.  My head wasn't in the game. *Ughughguhgughgughgughg*

I was losing, 3-0, for the first set, then I started to get into the game.  Like, really get into it.  The girl I was playing against was good.  She was a sophomore, and put a ton of topspin on the ball.  Since I'm a little *ahem* on the shorter side, it was no easy task to get the ball back over the net.  But I began winning, 5-4, coming back.  And then I just cracked.  I lost three straight games, and she won, 5-7.

Same story with the second set.  I lost, 5-7.  Both girls were extraordinarily consistent--way more consistent than the other girls I'd played, excluding the ones from the prior match.  I wasn't used to playing people like that, and for some reason, my head/heart/both wasn't in the game.  

The last set I lost 6-3, and I have to admit, I should have won it.  The girl, although she was number one, didn't have as good form.  But I was just done.  Sometimes I think I should play 2 sets instead of 3.  I always get so tired of tennis by the third one.

Because tennis is really an extrinsic motivation.  I'm not a tomboy.  I wish, but I'm not.  I have the tomboy mentality (sort of), but not really the body.   I'm dedicated to writing.  I do writing because I enjoy it.  I like playing tennis, but I'm not dedicated to it, if you know what I'm saying.

There are some girls on my team who love tennis and work extra hard to be good at it.  I work hard (kinda...) but honestly, it's just a sport to me.  It's not my life.

It was my birthday this week.  Now I'm fourteen.  I feel like I'm solidly rooted into being a teenager.  I feel like 13 was just the preliminary year.  Now I'm finally part of the gang.


One of my main observations about life is that the older you get, the more clothes you get.  At least, for girls.  I received clothes and gift cards for clothes and everything a girl could ever want and sometimes I just look at everything I have and compare it to what a teenager my age in a rural part of Africa would have, and I think of how selfish I'm being.  Like, seriously.  How selfish we're all being.

I've been to Las Vegas twice.  Twice was two times too much.  I hated Vegas.  I mean, seriously.  Gambling, smoking, drinking, and hotels are all so overrated.  Come on.  Companies spend millions of dollars trying to get people to go and spend money at their casino.  I looked at the tall buildings, the huge posters advertising stuff that I have no interest in.  And I'm serious.  I looked at those casinos and buffets and things and thought, How many people would all that money feed?

Besides, Vegas is hot.  And if you go into the casinos, you smell cigarettes EVERYWHERE.  Oh, and guess what?  The casinos don't have windows, because they don't want gamblers to look outside and notice how dark it gets.  So they have to blow a lot of dough on ventilation systems and whatnot to keep people from choking on the secondhand smoke.

And the buffets.

And there are people starving in other parts of the world.  If there weren't, World Vision and other organizations like those wouldn't exist.

And in America obesity is a problem?  

And, like, all we care about is who's dating who, and why she won't get an iPhone, and oooh, did you see what he posted on Instagram?

I'm not saying that that stuff is bad.  It's just that there are things more important than Facebook and movies.

Done rambling there.  

Another week of school will start tomorrow.  I need to get the birthday fever off of me.  I have stuff to do.  People to see.  Places to go.  New heights to reach.

Ohhhhh, boy.

(How did that saying come about?  Like, why, ohhhh, boy?  Why not ohhhh, girl?)

Ohhhhh, girl.

Well, I guess it doesn't have the same ring to it.


_Write for Snow in July.  I'm still rewriting it.  UGH.
_Read, read, read.  Probably going to read the Percy Jackson series, and this book called My World and Welcome to It, by James Thurber (he's a humorous writer, which is why I checked it out).
_School, school, school, school.  I think we need a period of "creative time," where you have free time.  Honestly!  Homework can't take up my whole life!  Homeschoolers have it easy--enjoy it while it lasts!
_Work on my tennis game.  Ieeeeeeeieieiieieiieieiie...
_Spend time with God.  I haven't been doing that lately...
_Have funnn!  Maybe join a club or two.  (but do I have time???)
_learn how to straighten/curl my hair
_oh yeah, how could I forget?!  BLOG!

----lurrrrv, rcubed----

Wednesday, September 25, 2013

4000 Pageviews!

I was sitting here, looking at my number of pageviews, and I realized: My blog had 3,999 PAGEVIEWS!

I told my brother, and he said, "Oooh, I'll make it 4,000."

So he made it 4,000 and now I have 4,000 pageviews ;)

Thank you to everyone who contributed to those 4,000 pageviews :) 


Tuesday, September 24, 2013

My Legs Feel Like Achy Spaghetti

This had better be a quick one.  But honestly, I should really really really document this before I lose it.

I played a tennis match today.  We played against probably our biggest opponents, a high school known for its athletics.  My coach was super pumped up.  He was really motivated when he got out onto the courts (He really really really wanted to win).

As I was warming up, we heard shrieks (of joy) coming from the other courts.  I looked over, and Coach was on his phone.  Then someone told me that he'd been offered a job that he'd been coveting for a long time (he had an interview yesterday).  He was crying (although you couldn't tell; he had his sunglasses on) and calling people to tell them the great news.  

Of course, with that, we had to win.

It was close right off the bat.  Right off the bat.  I got bageled; we were tied by the end of the first round, 3 sets to 3 sets.  Then I lost 6-1 (Psychologically, it was not a good match.  I knew the girl was number one singles, and even though I probably could have beat her, everything got to my brain).  

And I knew, the third set, playing against their number two singles player, that I would have to win it.  

It was close.  And long.  I was tired when I started the match; I grew even tireder as it wore on.  1-0.  2-1.  2-2.  3-2.  3-3.  On, and on, and on, until the score was 5-4, in my favor.

I won the three points.  She clocked one.  40-15.  Set point.
She won the point.  40-30.  Set point.
She won the point.  Deuce.

Let's just say I ended up losing the game.

It was 5-5, which meant we had to go to at least two more sets in order for one of us to win.  I was tired, frustrated.  My legs felt terrible, and my heart was literally pounding.  My breath came out in short, raggedy gasps.

She won the next game, 6-5.  

If she won the next one, she would've won the set, it would've been over, and we would have lost to that high school.

She lost the next game.  6-6.  By this time, we were one of the last three matches.  Many spectators were watching my set, which put the pressure on me. 

I knew that this was a big, big, big set.  The difference between winning, and losing.

But somehow, I wanted to win bad.  Like, bad.  I wanted to beat them.  And I had wanted this--kind of everything on my shoulders (selfish, selfish, selfish).  I wanted to prove to myself that I could be clutch.  That I could handle pressure when it mattered.

Last time something was on my shoulders, I choked.  I promised myself I wouldn't this time.  Because I had come too far, fought too hard, to let this go away.

Tiebreak.  I served.  I lost the first point.
I lost the second point.

It went on and on.  I pulled ahead by two points--4-2--only to have her catch up to me.  4 all.

The sun was in my eyes, on the right side.  Her serve.  I hadn't been winning her serve in the previous games.  

Somehow,  I was still calm.  I wasn't freaking out (well, maybe a little bit).  But--it's a God thing--and I knew I had to win.  I knew that all those other Team Tennis sets, the ones where I choked and lost to people who were worse than I was?  Those had built up to this moment, so I could win this when it actually counted.  

She served.  

We went on a long rally.

Then she hit it out on the left.


She hit it out on the left again.

6-4, set point.

Everything's a bit fuzzy now, but I know that I served, and we had a rally, and she didn't swing at one ball.  It was in the corner, so I wasn't sure if it was in or it was out.

I asked, "Was that out?"

I couldn't hear her answer.  

Then my teammates started cheering, and I knew: they wouldn't be cheering if I'd lost the point.

I won the set.  In tiebreak.

My coach came up to me and said that 1) I had pretty much won the match against the other high school, and 2) it was one of the best days of his life.

I'm not really a celebrater.  I can't kick back and relax unless I'm positive it was an actual, pure victory.  I was thinking, Well, if I'd won those first two sets, we might not be in this spot.  And maybe those balls that looked out-but-might-have-touched-the-line?  Maybe they were in.

Probably it wasn't a pure victory.  Nothing can be a pure victory.  Stuff bugs my conscience sometimes.  And my legs feel like achy spaghetti (thank you to one of my teammates who helped me coin the phrase up.  Achy spaghetti, if spaghetti could ache).  

But you know what?  We won.  And you know what?  It's a learning process.  Before I was hitting balls out left and right.  Now, I feel like I'm pulling myself together...kinda.

Oh yeah...and I did the announcements today! (the other announcer, who's a senior, has the same name as me.  It's pretty cool)  Everyone says I did well.  I think I did well.  So, today was a good day.

Oh, and I don't have as much homework as I did yesterday, but it's 7:13 p.m. and I STILL HAVEN'T STARTED IT...


P.S.  I PROMISE PROMISE PROMISE the TV show reviews are coming this week.  Sorry for forgetting, guys!

Sunday, September 22, 2013

Squeeze Me...I'm Juicy! (And Long)

Heyyyyyyyyy'alllllllllll...Sorry, it's been SO LONG!  The posts I've been posting are posts about what I will be posting and now that blessed time is here, so let's get cranking!

I actually have a list of what this post needs to include.  I compiled a lot of it last night in bed.  I kept a pen and paper in hand, so whenever I got an idea I ran over, turned on the light, and jotted it down.  Finally I ran out of interesting things to post, and I will be randomly ranting.  This will probably be the juiciest post in a while (since, like, last weekend).

Oh, and the TV show reviews will be following this post.  But after I do my *grr* geometry homework.  I hate having homework on Fridays (doesn't everyone?).

This week I am glad to say that most of the time, I got my locker open on the first try!  I forget if I told you--I might have--but I have a P.E. locker, and I'm telling you, it's not all fun-and-games as it looks like in High School Musical.  In High School Musical, Troy, Gabriella, and their posse are all slick and smooth, with the aura of providential experience hanging about them, while us freshies are asking each other how to do their locker combinations.  It's like the blind leading the blind--sometimes, it's just by luck that we open each other's lockers.  I wish they had a keypad.  Or maybe a fingerprint scanner, like on the iPhone 5S!

I'll get into the ios7 craze later.  But back to my magnificent feat: I figured out how to twist the knob of my locker combo.  Like, you have to set the lock at zero, make sure it's cleared, then twist the first number one way, the second number the other way, and the third number the same way as the first number.  It's confusing!  But thank goodness that's only for my tennis stuff.  I don't have a school locker--with all the hoopla and stuff about hiding things in lockers, I guess the school district thought it would be easier to have two sets of books--one to keep at home, and one to keep at school.  That way, I don't have to lug all my books to school and all my books back home.  I still can't manage to figure out why I have the world's largest blue backpack, even with books at home *sigh*.  

How to Open a Locker thumbnail
My locker dial is nicer than this one, but it's basically the same type.  Believe it or not, they have a tutorial on how to open a locker on eHow (which is where I got the picture from).  But if you do get a locker, it's always best to ask the nice sophomore who's on your tennis team to open it for you (even if it means telling them your locker combo.  Which, if you think about it, defeats the purpose of lockers and locker combinations).

Then the ios7 craze.  My friends with iPhones were going nuts.  They might have exploded when they found out that they should probably use wifi to download it.  And the iPhone 5S, and the iPhone 5C came out (I wonder where they get the letters from).  The iPhone 5S has a fingerprint scanner as a lock, which I think is literally SO AMAZING IT'S INCREDIBLE.  Instead of typing in a four-number passcode, which is forever annoying and time consuming, a fingerprint!  *GRRRR* (I have a Galaxy, which does have a facial recognition thing.)  

The iPhone 5C is cool because it doesn't just come in black or white, it comes in color too!

My friend got a 5C in the beautiful blue, which happens to be one of my favorite colors.  Oh, well.  I have a really cool case.  Who said that dads didn't have any fashion sense?  They were dead WRONG.  Mine does, at least for phone cases.  It's white and it has a little flipover thing that covers the screen.  And a magnet, to keep the flipover thing over the screen.  And a loopy thing that's really great for keeping portable library cards and Navajo key chains.  I was really excited because my case is like ones you see on Korean dramas.  Like, Cheer Up, Mr. Kim!  (which was actually kind of depressing and annoying.  I don't like it when the main character is so good he's aggravating).

I got the ios7 on my iPhone-iPod (I tell people that it's my iPod disguised as an iPhone.  It doesn't have service).  It's cool, but I miss the old look.  The new one's too white (although my dad tells me I can change it.  I don't have time to change it.  I'm up to my neck already!).

I got the iPhone 5C and this picture from, simply because it was most convenient (not because I'm a salesgirl for Apple.  I mean, come on, I have an Android).  I've always thought it would be so cool to be part of a team that's making up a new update for the iPhone, though.  You don't have to do something supertechy, just make up a new format that's fresh and creative.  I would love to do that...*wistful sigh*

Speaking of creativity, I'm designing a future high school.  That's right, a future high school.  It's called Atlantis High School, and it's underwater, in two bubbles, one for school buildings and one with a bunch of sports fields.  It's located in the Australian coral reefs, and there's a submarine port attached to it.  

This is for my Careers class.  Careers is fun because it's completely unschoollike.  It's supposed to help people make the right decisions in high school.  They have a day where people from Transitions come and talk to you about communicating and having fun and saying no to drugs and alcohol.  It's the type of class where people don't really pay attention.  Just saying.  

So my three friends and I are designing our future high school.  It's interesting.  And fun.  And I recently discovered I can walk to one of my friends' houses...OH MY GARGOYLES, IT'S AMAZING.  I went over to her house yesterday to work on the project (I think we got a lot done) and I walked home.  I felt so independent.  Ehhh...One thing checked off my bucket list xD

Great Barrier Reef, QLD
From  The coral reefs are supposed to be really pretty in Australia.

We spent a week in the library for English.  The librarian was going over things like how to use the online catalog, etc.  Maybe you can imagine how it was, especially for a reader like me.  (Whenever people say "I don't read" I always mind-gasp)  We did a quiz and a scavenger hunt.  I guess it could have been fun.  I could tell everyone around me thought it was boring, though.

We were assigned a person to work on a tiny research project.  I got Marie Curie.  You know, the scientist who discovered two elements of the periodic table, polonium and radium, and who discovered radioactivity, which can be used to treat cancer?  Yeah, her.  And you know the song "Radioactive" by Imagine Dragons?  I started singing that.  And I added it to my playlist.  I have a tendency to add things to my playlist after the hullaballoo is over.  Which is why, if you know me, you'll find me singing "Call Me Maybe" or "Brighter Than The Sun."  Both are old songs, long past their prime.  (You won't catch me singing "Gangnam Style" though)

Imagine Dragons' album Night Visions, from Wikipedia.

My tennis career is doing well.  We played a Christian private school in a non-league match.  We beat them 17-1, but their ethics were incredibly admirable.  The girls were super nice too.  
My coach is really pumped up for the game on Tuesday, when we play one of the best teams in the league.  He had us practice yesterday (Saturday) from 8-10 a.m.  I don't think any of us liked the time--it was wayyyy too early for a Saturday--but we did it.  Oh, and I ran a mile in 7:17 this past week (it's my best time yet).  The football team was warming up for their game, and the wrestling team was out running (it was crowded).  I ran it, and as I was rounding the last bend, some man in a big hat shouted, "Go, [my name] go!"  I didn't recognize him, so I was like, What is that random guy doing shouting my name?  It was my Careers teacher, who doubles as the wrestling coach.  *whew*  Thank goodness he wasn't some random stalker.

Last week was all so pumped up because we had a big football game against our rivals.  The ASB and staff went all out to remind us.  We had a spirit week.  First day was crazy sock and shoe day, second day was throwback to the decades day, third day was--I forget what the third day was--fourth day was nerd day (I debated whether or not to put a "kick me" sign on the back of my shirt but decided not to), and the fifth day was go all out in white.  The only day I participated in was the white day.  I wore a white spaghetti-strap with a silver cardigan over it.  And jeans.  

Third period is kind of like homeroom--when they have announcements and stuff.  Someone says it over the PA system, but on Tuesday they held tryouts, looking for people to say announcements in front of the entire student body.  I tried out.  

I thought I went too fast, and I stumbled over some names of food trucks (how do you pronounce "Garlic Scapes"? and why would anyone name their food truck "Sexy Burger"?), so I thought I did terrible.  On Wednesday, there was no sign of anything.  I gave it up.  Then, on Thursday, to my disbelief, I received a note saying that I would say the announcements with a partner on Tuesdays!  

Really, it's interesting.  If you look at it one way, you're saying the announcements of the day into a microphone.  If you look at it another way, you're saying the announcements of the day into a microphone for the whole student body to hear.  So...wait for an update from me on how that goes on Tuesday.

I went to the football game with a couple of my friends.  We had a pep rally, where people stuck temporary tattoos on our faces and stuff (I had mine put on my knuckles, but it peeled off before the rally started).  We sat at the very very front (the back part, with the good seats, was jam-packed).  I paid attention to sporadic parts of the game (we won), and there was plenty of action: interceptions, fumbles, touchdowns, but most of the time I went with my friends to see their friends on the other side.  It was fun--I had a pack of Skittles, which were amazing because the green ones were Green Apple...!!!!!  I also had a hamburger with raw onion (it was pretty amazing, too).  

I also had two tests, Spanish and Biology Honors.  I did pretty well on my Spanish one; I'm not sure how I did on my Biology one.  I'm pretty confident about that one.

Oh, and my birthday's coming up!  I'm going to be turning 14 :) And I'm super excited.  And I haven't had a birthday party since I was, like, 8 or 9.  I don't think I'm going to have a birthday party this year, but I'm going to go with my youth group to a burger joint to celebrate my birthday on Saturday (after we go kayaking) and I want to see Grace Unplugged--a Christian-themed movie starring CCM singer/songwriter Jamie Grace--with a couple of friends, maybe (it comes out Oct.4).  I'm also going to get blond highlights in my hair next next Friday or Saturday, which will be really fun and cool :)  I might post the result.  

That's what's been happening in my life.  My birthday--announcing over PA system--football games--continuing my tennis career--my life is escalating, busying up.  It's fun, but it's exhausting.  And maybe in a year or so, I'll look back at this blog and see how much fun I've been having.  

Besides, I want to join a bunch of clubs.  Club Rush is just around the corner, and I'll update you.  I might even go for Speech and Debate! (Look at previous posts for my antics at my other school's speech class)


Saturday, September 21, 2013


If you'rewondering what happened to "Christian Pickup Lines," I decided to delete it after my dad didn't approve of it.

See you tomorrow!  
Instead of a Sunday Serial, I might just catch up with you guys since I haven't really had time to write what's been happening to me.  Oh, and maybe those Disney show reviews.  So...tomorrow, expect:

1) What's been happening to me.  Handling the pressure of singles tennis (and enjoying the ethics of playing against Christian schools), homework and tests, ditzy locker combinations, Spirit week at school, and football games.  Along with the major Korean BBQ dinner I ate was amazink ;)  Oh yeah!  And how I'm going to say the announcements over the PA system on every Tuesday for the semester in front of the ENTIRE SCHOOL...and how that came about.  Oh, and Careers homework: the creative stuff, like, design the future high school.  And how I walked to my classmate's house today *gasp*

2) Those TV show reviews I promise I would earlier in the week.

You might be sick and tired of hearing me drag on and on and on about, like, high school is a full-time job, but one thing is for sure: you never have a dull moment.  Hopefully I'll show that in the posts to come.

P.S.  CCM to check out: 1 Girl Nation, Mandisa's new album Overcomer, Family Force 5 (especially their single "Chainsaw," which has a pretty rocking beat), and Royal Tailor's latest single "Ready Set Go" (feat. Capital Kings).  Oh...and recent news on Instagram: Britt Nicole will release a Christmas song, "O Come All Ye Faithful," on September 24th (One good thing about Instagram is the fact that you find out all the release dates and such).

P.S.  Oh, and my birthday's coming up.  This week.  I'm excited ;)

Wednesday, September 18, 2013

New Reviews Possibly Coming... :)

Upon receiving a suggestion from my friend Elise, who also runs a blog (though it's private), I will be posting TV show reviews of Disney Channel shows like A.N.T. Farm, Jessie, Good Luck Charlie, and Austin & Ally.  Not today, but when I have time--probably later in the week.

I have been watching those kind of lately, even though I'm a tad bit too old for those (I don't watch Pretty Little Liars or anything, although I do want to watch the Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. spinoff from The Avengers).  High school eats up your time, that's for sure.  Sorry for not posting as much :(

Again, wait for it...wait for it...A.N.T. Farm, Jessie, Good Luck Charlie, and Austin & Ally.  I'll also be posting my first impression of the pilot for Liv & Maddie.  

Oh yeah *super excited squeal* Rachael VS Guy on Food Network is KIDS COOKOFF!  I repeat, KIDS COOKOFF!  It's really interesting, and some of the things the kids say are just too cute ;)  Check It Out!!!


Sunday, September 15, 2013

Sunday Serial 6~ Regards, Abilaire The Chatroom

Sunday Serial #6: Spanishista

oh_so_abilaire: Hola, amigos!
jumpin_jehoshaphat: Oh no
oh_so_abilaire: Como estas?
jumpin_jehoshaphat: PLEASE DON'T SPEAK SPANISH!
oh_so_abilaire: Why nada?
mostly_pristine_christine: I don't think that's how it goes.
oh_so_abilaire: Yeah, I thought it sounded wrong.
notsomaddex: Why are you speaking in Spanish?
oh_so_abilaire: I dropped out of art and took up Spanish because Mr. Gregg was not making any sensoso.
notsomaddex: That is not how you say 'senses' in Spanish.
oh_so_abilaire: I know.  That's why I'm saying it.
notsomaddex: I am extremely confused right now.  
jumpin_jehoshaphat: Ignore Abilaire.  Mr. Gregg?
oh_so_abilaire: I like good, logical art, not, like, feel the art.  Love the art.  Be the art.  That's how Mr. Gregg is.
mostly_pristine_christine: I don't think art is logical.
oh_so_abilaire: Yeah, it can be.  For example, drawing still lifes is more logical than drawing what you think a snapadoodle looks like.
jumpin_jehoshaphat: What?
oh_so_abilaire: Yeah.  Mr. Gregg wanted us to draw a snapadoodle.  He handed out sheets of paper and pencils, told us to draw a snapadoodle, and went to play Candy Crush on his iPhone.
notsomaddex: What?!  That is a disgrace!  Honestly, a teacher should have more judgment.
mostly_pristine_christine: What did you draw?
oh_so_abilaire: I drew a snapadoodle.
jumpin_jehoshaphat: A what?
oh_so_abilaire: A cross between a gingersnap and a snickerdoodle.  A snapadoodle. I got a zero, because apparently it was a "senseless circle with beige dots in the middle."  Mary Welles drew a thin line across the paper and played Candy Crush on her phone under the table.  Mr. Gregg praised her ingenuity and hung it up in the Place of Honor.  So I dropped it and took up Spanish with Senorita Garcia.
notsomaddex: You should alert the principal.
oh_so_abilaire: Come on, Maddex, surely you know that Candy Crush is addictive.
notsomaddex: No, it isn't.
jumpin_jehoshaphat: You wouldn't know because you haven't played it.
mostly_pristine_christine: Do you like Spanish, Abilaire?
oh_so_abilaire: Yeah.  It's fun.  We play a game called Flyswatter.
mostly_pristine_christine: How do you play?
oh_so_abilaire: You swat flies.
notsomaddex: Very...entertaining.  The teachers nowadays...honestly...
oh_so_abilaire: I'm joking, Maddex.  You put Spanish flashcards on the table with a bunch of other people and Senorita Garcia calls out a word and you grab the notecard and say it before other people can.  It gives your hands a workout.
jumpin_jehoshaphat: Very entertaining.  
oh_so_abilaire: Como tellamas?
jumpin_jehoshaphat: Me llamo Justin.
oh_so_abilaire: You know Spanish?!?!
jumpin_jehoshaphat: From Dora.  I learned how to sing the number song from one of those old episodes of Barney where the kids wear eighties clothes and Baby Bop looks like an old lady.
oh_so_abilaire: Sing it for us.
jumpin_jehoshaphat: I'd rather be caught dead watching High School Musical.
mostly_pristine_christine: Hey!  I happen to love High School Musical!  How dare you insult Troy and Gabriella!
jumpin_jehoshaphat: Fine, I'd rather be caught dead watching Hannah Montana.
oh_so_abilaire: I happened to like that show, even though I don't like Miley Cyrus.
jumpin_jehoshaphat: Fine, I'd rather be caught dead watching MacGyver.
notsomaddex: Hey!  MacGyver was quite ingenious, although some of the things he tries probably would not work.
jumpin_jehoshaphat: OKAY, I'd rather be caught dead watching...
oh_so_abilaire: Maybe you should just stop before you insult someone else.
jumpin_jehoshaphat: Maybe I should.
notsomaddex: I have to go.  Adios, everyone.

(notsomaddex has left the chatroom)

mostly_pristine_christine: Bye-bye.  A cheerleader's life is never finished!  Gracias, amigos.  

(mostly_pristine_christine has left the chatroom)

jumpin_jehoshaphat: Hasta luego!

(jumpin_jehoshaphat has left the chatroom)

oh_so_abilaire: Dear Future Me, Will I Still Be a Spanishista?

                                  Regards, Abilaire

Saturday, September 14, 2013

Line Calls, Liars, and Life

Sorry I haven't posted so much.  School.  Public school.  And education's greatest--or worst--invention time-eater-upper: homework.  I've had a lot of homework.  Or maybe I just make it a lot of homework, because honestly I hate doing it?  So I kindasortamaybesometimes stall, just a little bit, sometimes?  I hope I won't bore you with the details.  Let's just say I don't like homework, and leave it at that (usually I try to make excuses for school-related things that other kids complain about, but ehk ehk ehk homework).  

Oh--let me say that I love my Language Arts Honors teacher.  And my Biology Honors teacher.  I like my Spanish teacher and my Health/Careers teacher.  I kind of like my honors geometry teacher, but sometimes it feels like she assigns us homework that we don't know how to do, and then goes over it the next day in class.  Which means I force myself to redo it.  Which takes up even more time.  Ugh.  

The upside stereotypes of public school?  We live in a nice area, so we're pretty OK.  I don't really think there's any bullying (at any rate, nobody's tried to bully me).  The girls don't gaggle about boys all the time (We're weird instead.  One time we were waiting for class to start and we stood there rubbing the tips of our collarbones with our second and third fingers simultaneously, and comparing whose stuck out more).  When they do talk about boys, I just sit there thinking, Hello?  Anyone else think this is pointless?  No need to comment--it's not going to stop them anyway.

But just yesterday I had an experience that you kind of have to expect to happen.  Here goes...

As you know, I'm on the JV tennis team.  (I feel really suave when I say that.  Oh, I'm just on the junior varsity tennis team.  No biggie.)  And when you play in a simple tennis league like ours, you go by the honor system.  Specifically saying, when the opponent hits the ball to your side, and you either call it in or out.  In or out.  Sometimes in, sometimes out.  SOMETIMES you don't know if it's in or out.

I got jolted up from number three doubles to number three singles.  For those of you who don't know, there are three singles players and three doubles pairs.  Every singles player plays one set against every singles player on the other team (So, it really doesn't matter if you're number three or number one.  You play one set against everyone, unless the coach decides to substitute you).  It's the same thing for doubles.

YesterdayI played two sets, because the other team wanted to do four singles players and four doubles pairs and two rounds.  We let them.  It was a non-league match, which means it doesn't count in the books.

If you want the whole tennis scoring-and-planning such, Google it.  And if you didn't get what I was just saying, pretend like you do.  It doesn't really matter.

The first set I played was against the other number-three singles player.  Eh.  I lost, 3-6.  I bet I could have won.  But the part of the problem was that my entire family--parents, siblings, and imaginary friends--was watching, and everybody knows that you don't perform as well with your family watching.  At least, I don't.  

The girl didn't have good groundstrokes, and she didn't come up to the net once, but she did have a killer serve, which she only got in a couple times.  But the main thing was that she didn't double fault.  

Me?  I double faulted my entire set away.
I'm not naturally athletic, so my forehand and serve are kind of traveling on a long journey.  My old coach obsessed over my stinking forehand (however, it's gotten much better), and now it's my serve.  For some reason my backhand was always pretty good.  

My forehand is in a winding forest path with plenty of water and shade, while my serve is in the Sahara with its sand dunes--the type where you climb one step and slide back two.  

So that's probably the main reason why I lost.  

The second set is the one I want to really tell you about.

I was playing the number four singles player.  To be honest, she just patted the ball back, and only sometimes she got it in.  Her serve was the most stable thing about her game (unlike mine).  

I told myself from the start, I'm going to win this.  I can win it.  I knew I could.

(It was more like an inspirational moment than an arrogant, self-absorbed moment.  I think.)

I took the first game.  Then she took the second (my fantabulously failing disgusting serve).  I don't know what happened, but for some reason, she called one of my balls out when I thought it was in.   I know she called one or two of my serves out that I thought were in.  And my dad, who was watching, told me that one of the balls wasn't even touching the line, and she called it out.

I shook it off.  Because the girl before her had called a couple bad ones, and I'd promised myself that if this girl exceeded the limit--3--I would call a line judge.

She called a third out when it looked suspiciously in.  I told myself, Four.  After another bad call, I'll call a line judge.  

The truth is, I'm not a big fan of getting people offended.  I don't usually offend people.  Okay, maybe once or twice people thought I was a complete ickadoodle maniac, but usually I'm on good terms with pretty much everybody.  I try hard not to offend anyone, even though sometimes I probably get on people's nerves.

The bad part about calling a line judge is the fact that you will probably offend the opponent.  It's like walking up to them and telling them in the face, Hey, you're being dishonest.  I want somebody else to come in.  

I played my game.  And she called another I-think-the-it-was-in ball out.

I walked over to her.  I can't tell you what I was thinking at the moment, but it was something along the lines of, How do you tell a person you want a line judge and not offend them?

I know I rambled.  I know I talked fast.  But somehow I got the point across and she offered, "Do you just want to replay the point?"

In my personal opinion, it sounded like a replacement offer.  Something like, We replay the point, and you don't call a line judge.

I took a short pause.  I can't tell you what I was thinking there, either--they weren't any conscious thoughts--but logic told me, First off, if you're really confident in your calls, you wouldn't try to "make up for it" by offering to replay the point.  Second off, you've already called four balls out that seemed in to me.  Third off, I'm serious, and I'm calling a line judge.

We got two people, one from my team and one from the other team, to come line judge (I later learned that 1, you have to inform both coaches that you want a line judge, and 2, if you're not too mad, you usually don't call a line judge until a changeover.  Assume that I disregarded both etiquette rules out of ignorance).  

I was winning, something like 5-3.  Then she won a game (something like that).  5-4.  I knew that if she won that game, we'd have to play two more games (you have to win a set by two games) and I didn't want to do that.  

It was my serve. 

My fantastically terrible serve.

I was cool and collected for some weird reason.  All I knew was that if she had been purposely calling the in balls out, she wouldn't try it now, not with two line judges out on the court (my dad tells me that she called one ball out, but I don't know.  Ick, it's just a tennis match).  

I proceeded to serve four straight balls in, and proceeded to win four straight points.  Game, set, (technically I can't say match, because it was only a set, but...ack!) match.

We shook hands, and I told her I wished my serve was as consistent as hers. Which was true.

Heaven's sake, there are plenty of reasons why she called those four balls out.

1) Not sure if it was in or out.  That's a legit reason.  I called two balls out the first set that I wasn't sure about, and it plagued me a lot during the first set, which I lost.  I wondered if I was becoming a liar.  

She could have been unsure, but my dad said some of the balls weren't even touching the line.  Only God knows.

2) Bad eyesight.  My eyesight is so bad I need contacts all the time.  But some lucky people wear glasses (cute-looking nerd glasses, unlike mine) to school, and take them off for tennis matches.  Maybe she was one of them.  Maybe she couldn't see the ball.

3) She lied.  Nothing else needs to be said.

4) I was wrong.  Maybe I was wrong, maybe I was right.  Maybe my eyes played tricks on me.  

Hopefully I didn't come down to hard on her here.  (I hope she isn't reading this post right now and taking things the wrong way)  There could be a million reasons why she miscalled those balls.  I only listed four of them.  But after all, if someone seems like they're making a couple bad calls, I need to make sure they're responding with accountability.

That was a messy job, calling a line judge.  Especially because people can take it wrong.  

What would I do if someone called a line judge on me?  I'd probably be relieved.  Every set, I try my hardest to call accurate balls.  I make mistakes many times.  So if a line judge is called, I'd probably be glad, to rely on someone else's perspective on if the ball was in or out.

And if you think about it--when you use someone else's perspective, it causes you to look at something in a whole other way.  Narrowmindedness comes from looking through your view, not somebody else's.

But, sometimes, looking from someone else's eyes, somebody else's POV, that's refreshing once in a while.  It helps you look at things differently.  It helps you understand life.

Monday, September 9, 2013

Your Crash Course on Broken Spanish

I am taking Spanish I at my high school.  As I was reviewing my flashcards, I thought, Why not post some of this stuff on my blog?  Maybe you know 'Hola' and 'Adios' and the typical Dora-Diego-and-Handy-Manny stuff, but what about saying "I need to go to the bathroom" or "What time is it"?  Who knows, you may find yourself stuck in Mexico with a full bladder and a vocabulary consisting of what you learned on Dora (I don't think they go over that on Dora.  Trust me on this one, because my little sister used to be obsessed with Dora and I--for whatever reason--decided to watch with her many a time.  I have the theme song memorized.  Don't judge).  

That's where my blog comes in!

I admit it: I do not know Spanish AT ALL.  This is my fifth day of taking the class.  I cannot even roll the r's (believe me, I've tried!) .  But I've learned a couple of phrases, so if you go on a missions trip to Mexico, take these with you.

*Also note that the title of this blog post is "Broken Spanish," not Speed-Learning-Advanced-Level Spanish

(Excuse me as I get my flashcards out to see what you say when you have to go to the restroom.)

There!  I need to go to the bathroom is (Yo) Necesito ir al bano (the 'n' has a squiggly thing over it, but I'm too lazy to figure out how to work the function on my computer).  

When you want to make a friend, say iHola!  Me llamo (your name).  Y tu?  In case you're wondering, that means, Hello!  My name is ________.  And you?

Pronounce it like, Oh-la!  Me yahmmo _______.  Ee too?

In order to figure out their name, expect them to say, Me llamo (their name).

When you want to say, I don't understand; please repeat, say No entiendo.  Repita por favor.  

Although if you don't know what they said in the first place, I doubt repeating it would make a difference.

It's like you going to France and not knowing how to speak French, and talking to a French person who doesn't know how to speak English.  Somehow, in our minds, we think, Okay, talk louder in English, AND THEN they'll understand!

Yeah, totally.  Try that.  I'll bet you the million dollars (that you don't have) it won't work.  Although maybe a passersby who speaks English might overhear you and come to your rescue.  (Or maybe you should just go to France with someone who can speak it.  That's probably the easiest way--although finding someone who can speak French might be a challenge...)

Oh, yeah.  One more thing.

Buenos dias means good morning
Buenos tardes means good afternoon
Buenos noches means good evening

Don't walk up to someone at ten p.m. at night and try to impress them with your knowledge of the Spanish language by saying Buenos dias.  It doesn't work that way.

It's like someone coming up to you at nine a.m. and saying, "Good evening."  Very impressive.

And that is the end of Rcubed's Crash Course on Speaking Broken Spanish.  That's kind of the extent of my limited knowledge of the Spanish vocabulary.  

And actually?  Dora, Barney, Handy Manny, and Diego do teach you something.  I first learned the Spanish numbers from a Barney song when I was just a kid (actually, I'm still a kid, but you know.  When I was younger).

Uno, dos, tres, amigo (Note: Amigo means friend.  Don't confuse it with a number like I did.)
Cuatro, cinco, seis, amigo
Siete, ocho, nueve, amigo

Senorita Rcubed, signing out.

Sunday, September 8, 2013

Sunday Serial: Regards, Abilaire 4

Sunday Serial 5: Teachers and Dog Stories

oh_so_abilaire: I’ve changed my username!
jumpin_jehoshaphat: Copycat.
oh_so_abilaire: I wonder why everybody calls people “copycat.”  Don’t they realize that it’s offensive to cats?  I’d rather be called “copyfish” or “copycapybara” or “copy
jumpin_jehoshaphat: And I wonder why you’re so annoying.
notsomaddex: In answer to your question, Abilaire, I believe that the reason why everyone calls others “copycat” is for the mere reasons that #1, it’s alliterative, which means that the two words start with the same letter, and #2, “cat” is the shortest possible word that is alliterative.  No offense to cats, of course.
oh_so_abilaire: Thank you for the explanation, Maddex.
mostly_pristine_christine: I like your new username, Abilaire.
oh_so_abilaire: Thanks, Christine!  See, Justin--Christine likes my username.  
jumpin_jehoshaphat: Oh?
oh_so_abilaire: Christine’s the captain of the cheerleading team.  
jumpin_jehoshaphat: Um...okay...?????????????
mostly_pristine_christine: Is anyone else tired from studying for the science test Mrs. Maeir told us she was going to hand out today?
notsomaddex: I happen to know that Mrs. Maeir is susceptible to rambling, and I did have a curiosity of the fascinating history of the Pompeii volcanic explosion, so I got enough rest yesterday, as I knew there wouldn’t be a test today...
oh_so_abilaire: Suckers!  I got Mr. Dene.  He doesn’t BELIEVE in tests!
jumpin_jehoshaphat: So the rumors are true, then.
oh_so_abilaire: Instead of tests, he makes us record a video diary of the things we learned and our honest opinions about them.  We have to talk for at least two minutes every day.
mostly_pristine_christine: You are SO lucky.  I guess it does pay to be one of the good kids...
oh_so_abilaire: Maddex is a good kid--better than I am, at least--and he ended up in Mrs. Maeir’s class.
notsomaddex: I also happen to ask supposedly unanswerable questions, and for some people that counts as bad as being an alcoholic or something equally appalling.
jumpin_jehoshaphat: In fifth grade, I loved the look on Mr. Keefer’s face when you asked him why evolution is regarded as truth when it’s only a theory.  I still dream about that facial expression...I disliked Mr. Keefer very, very, very, very strongly.
oh_so_abilaire: Dreaming about your teachers is just plain creepy, Justin.
jumpin_jehoshaphat: What about dreaming about humiliating your teachers?
mostly_pristine_christine: That’s just plain mean.
jumpin_jehoshaphat: Anyway, so half of us dummies are tired, one genius and one good kid aren’t, and where does that lead us?
oh_so_abilaire: What chapter are you guys on?
notsomaddex: Where they talk about igneous rocks.  The subject matter really is quite fascinating; I truly was interested in Pompeii and thought I might, for once, do my fellow students what they call a “service” and help them along a bit...Mrs. Maeir is almost seventy years old, after all, and she does have a tendency to ramble.
oh_so_abilaire: You’re back there?  We’re a couple sections ahead, where they talk about sedimentary rocks.
jumpin_jehoshaphat: Yeah, yeah, rub it in.
oh_so_abilaire: Rub what in?  Cajun spice with cayenne pepper, or that killer soy sauce marinade your parents put on the Korean BBQ?  Btw, how is the restaurant doing?  We haven’t been there in a while.
mostly_pristine_christine: It’s doing very well.  I went there yesterday to study with Justin.  I heard your parents added a new waitress.  Quite a voice, doesn’t she?
jumpin_jehoshaphat: Yeah, lol.  Her name’s Regina, she has hot pink hair with an electric-blue stripe down the middle, and she keeps on belting out “Heart Attack” by Demi Lovato.  Except she can’t hit the high note, so...
mostly_pristine_christine: She’s very interesting.  She makes a good Caesar salad, though.  Much better than Timothy’s Caesar salad.  Timothy’s Caesar salad is always overdressed and has too much salt, and the croutons are always soggy.  Regina even put pepper in mine!
jumpin_jehoshaphat: Yeah, Regina’s all about quality, while Timothy’s all about speed.  We almost fired Timothy.  Did you hear what happened?
oh_so_abilaire: What?
notsomaddex: Do I want to hear this?
jumpin_jehoshaphat: Knowing you, you don’t want to hear it, but I’ll tell you anyway.  So Timothy’s got kind of a hot temper, right?
oh_so_abilaire: Oh boy.
jumpin_jehoshaphat: And he, like, HATES dogs, for whatever reason--I think he got bit or something when he was little--by a Chihuahua--
notsomaddex: We share a common link.
jumpin_jehoshaphat: And then this one old lady brings in her dog for brunch.  We don’t have a sign that says No Pets, so the lady just brings it in.  She’s like, the green-polyester-pantsuit type of lady, with curly gray hair, and she has a hot pink purse that she carries the dog in
mostly_pristine_christine: Oh, THAT kind of lady...
jumpin_jehoshaphat: and Timothy happens to be her waiter, but he doesn’t see the dog, so he takes her order--hashbrowns and sausage--and just as he’s about to leave, she says, “Oh, and Dinny needs a meal, too, you can’t forget Dinny” and Timothy’s looking around for Dinny--the guy didn’t have his contacts in and he’s practically blind without them, so he just nods like he knows she’s talking about--and he takes the order--poached egg with ham and hollandaise sauce, along with a bowl of warm water--and he goes away.  Pretty soon he comes back, and he has the poached eggs, but he’s looking around for Dinny, and he sets the plate across the lady, but the lady says, “Oh, set it here, please, Dinny’s sitting right here, yes he is.”  So Tim sets it there, and he comes back with a CUP of warm water, not a bowl, and the lady says, “I need it in a BOWL, not a cup” and Tim gets kind of mad and he says, “Where’s Dinny?  Shouldn’t he be able to drink from a cup as well as a bowl?” and she shakes her head so he brings her a bowl but he’s steaming mad because Regina took a table from him while he was getting the bowl, which means less tip.  And Timothy’s starting to get kind of suspicious of the gal, so he hides around the corner so he can spy on her--hear her talking, although he can’t see her--and then he hears her saying, “Good boy, Dinny, good boy for eating” and he sneaks a peek, but then he sees her looking at the space right next to her--but obviously he can’t see the dog--and he gets SUPER suspicious for whatever reason and, to make a long story short, he calls the police because she starts cooing to the purse, and when the officer comes, the lady gets all mad and takes the dog out and shouts, “It’s a DOG, you dummy!” and the ENTIRE restaurant starts laughing, and Timothy gets so stinkin’ mad that he takes the poor dog and dumps its head into the bowl of warm water and storms off.  So he got demoted to busboy.
oh_so_abilaire: Ohhhh...very interesting story
mostly_pristine_christine: Timothy’s kind of annoying.
jumpin_jehoshaphat: Speak for yourself.
mostly_pristine_christine: That is so nice, Justin *sarcasm*
notsomaddex: It is my opinion that Timothy is hotheaded and that he needs to be cooled down and think before he acts.  He needs to be more analyzing of his actions instead of, to put it commonly, “jumping into the brawl.”
jumpin_jehoshaphat: So, I guess, the moral is, don’t judge.
oh_so_abilaire: Like people presume that cats are copiers?
jumpin_jehoshaphat: I’m tired, Abilaire.  Don’t get me started.
oh_so_abilaire: Sorry.  But I’m just super annoyed!  Now I’m REALLY REALLY mad at Timothy for doing that to the poor dog...
jumpin_jehoshaphat: If you ask me, the dog could stand to have a bath.  It smelled like that Justin Bieber perfume.
notsomaddex: *cough* And how would you know what Justin Bieber perfume smells like?
jumpin_jehoshaphat: I happen to be a personal friend of his.
mostly_pristine_christine: Boys.  Just don’t.  And gtg, copycats.  Maddex, are you planning on pulling the same trick about Pompeii tomorrow?  
notsomaddex: No.  Once a year is enough.
mostly_pristine_christine: Then I’m study.  *yawn* bye, guys.

(mostly_pristine_christine has left the chatroom)

notsomaddex: I must study, too.  

(notsomaddex has left the chatroom)

jumpin_jehoshaphat: Bye, copydog.  

(jumpin_jehoshaphat has left the chatroom)

oh_so_abilaire: Dear Future Me, I Wonder What Expressions We’ll Be Using In The Future.  We Might Say, “Oh My Gargoyles” Instead Of “Oh My Gosh” or “Fullygully” Instead Of “Cool” Or “Awesome.”  Oh, Boy, I Can’t Wait For The Future, In That Case.
-Regards, Abilaire