This is our new house! This is the master bedroom. This is the cozy little den. This is the master-bathroom's bathtub. I can see it now: luxurious bubble baths....:) This is the dining room! My sister has big, elegant plans for this room. Why does that scare me? And here's my room. (not this furniture). It's located above the garage, and has slanted ceilings. It's really cool, with a walk-in closet and tons of space! YAY for not living out of cardboard boxes anymore and for no more rental house!

The last pic didn't work. Maybe this one will....I guess we'll see....

This is our new house! I am so excited to finally move into a non-rental house, so I won't be living out of cardboard boxes anymore! I LOVE THIS HOUSE!

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Well, what can I say? Life is going pretty well, except we are still waiting for the judge to pass down an order in my parents' child-support/custody case. It has been over six months since we went to court, and yet no order is in place. But that is a discussion for another time.

In other news: Cross country has started back. It appears we have a very large turnout which is great! We have a new head coach: Coach Jamar Bryson, and two assistant coaches: Coach Lachance, and Coach Brongo. The first day, we just did some stretches, an easy run, and then some more stretches. Eleven people came to practice that day. Yesterday, we did circuits, but only four people showed up. Two girls, two boys. There were fifteen circuit stations. I'll try my best to remember all of them:
1. Jumproping
2. V-ups, an alternate to sit-ups
3. Sit-ups
4. Push-ups
5. Leg kicks
6. Butt-kicks
7. Mountain climbers (hard to describe)
8. Lunges
9. Squats, which weren't really squats. You stood in front of a bench, and jumped up onto the bench, then jumped off, then on, then off, over and over again.
10. Alternating leg-ups on a bench (put one foot on the seat of a bench, then hop up, placing your other foot next to it, and put the first foot back on the ground. Repeat until you think your legs will fall off)
11. Stair runs
12. Weight running. (we swung our arms as though we were running while holding weights)
13. Leg lifts
14. Reverse push-ups (or at least, that's what I call them). You sit with your legs straight out in front of you, your feet on a bench, and your hands behind you on another bench, so there should be a good two feet or so between the benches. Then you lift your self off the bench, and lower and raise your self between the benches, using your arms. I loved this one!
15. There was one other one, but I don't remember what it was.
Today, we ran down to Fletcher park, where we did four hill sprints, and then some drills, just strides and deer runs. Fun stuff!

I work a lot, but I enjoy it so it's all good. I worked 5-11pm last night, (Thursday night) and it should have been an easy, laid back night. And it was, until about 10:30. About this time, three drunk guys came into the theatre, and at the time we didn't know they were drunk. All of a sudden, they began harassing one of our door people, who takes tickets. They got all in his face and shoved him at one point. Ms. Teresa, a temporary manager, threw them out. Meanwhile, Justin, who is a projection manager, was talking to these six teenage girls (like thirteen or fourteen years old), and they told him that the same guys had lifted up one of the girls' skirt, and then talked about some very vulgar things. So Mike, one of the managers, calls 911 to get police down to the theatre quickly. The guys finally left the property after some threats to bring their "people" down to the theatre. The police got there, meanwhile, and we found out that the guys had been pulled over about a mile from the theatre for drunk driving. Much too much action for a Thursday night. You know the managers are overwhelmed when they don't bother to check your inventory sheet or count your money to see if you are off. They just put it in a drawer and tell you to go home. They didn't even nag me to clean up, which was good because I was annoyed. Tim, the guy who worked next to me, should have cleaned up, but he left an hour early, and told me he wasn't "cleaning nothing." It ticks me off when people don't pull their load. Alas alack, I ended up cleaning up anyway, reluctantly. It seems to me that cleaning up and picking up the other employees' slack could be good or bad. Good: I know I'm doing what I should be doing, and I think it's fair. The managers shouldn't have to clean up after us. It's not their job. Bad: It's happened multiple (5 or 6) times in the past week and a half, and it only furthers the problem because I'm too scared to tell the managers. I don't want to sound like I am complaining, but it gets on my nerves when I have to stay an extra hour and a half to clean up because the person I was working with left me. Certainly, by me cleaning and keeping my mouth shut about it, let's the others get away with not doing squat. But it's not my place to enforce the rules. Oh well. *sigh*

Today, four movies open, so I am sure that the theatre will be busy. I work until 11pm tonight, until 1:30am tomorrow, and then until 11:30pm Sunday night. But I enjoy those late-night times, because we always have police officers onduty. The four movies are Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle, The Manchurian Candidate, The Village, and Thunder Birds.

Well, we bought a car today. I can hardly contain myself. We got a really good deal on a Mitsibishi Mirage, from 2000. It's in impecably good shape for a four-year-old car. It has power locks, windows, a cd-player, and airconditioning. The interior looks like its barely been used before. I even got to take it on a test drive! It drives very smoothly. The people at the Saturn Dealership are very, very nice. It's only 12 days till I get my liscense. In other news, not much is happening. Life is pretty steady, and I guess I can't complain! I'm nervous about the new school year. So far, I know of few people who will be in classes with me, and that is always a little unnerving. Lately, I find myself consumed on one of two topics: Chile and dance. Pretty pathetic huh? As far as Chile is concerned, I am saving all my money (that I didn't just spend on a car) to return next year. Those nine days were the best of my life, and I cannot wait to return. The people were incredible, the scenery was one-of-a-kind, and the experience was life-altering. Paola, one of the directors, has already said that when she and Roberto, the other director, get settled into married life and buy a house that I can come visit them for a while! That would be soooo awesome. As for dance, well I am doing a lot of "soul searching" and I'm finding that I have no real desire to return to dance classes in the fall. While the thought of no dance breaks my heart, I have realized that I don't have the passion or love for it that I used to. Maybe it's because Ms. Ali was jailed and I have finally realized that she's not going to return one day and reopen the studio. I guess I was dreaming of having my studio back, and when I know that I will never have it, I find that dance just doesn't feel as worth it. I lived for it at one time, and now....well, maybe it just wasn't for me. It's pretty sad, though, how I can fall out of love with something that has been a part of my life for going on 14 years, and suddenly, because one person fails me and abandons what we all poured hard work into, I find myself lost, without a passion in life. Wow, that is a scary thought. Work's fine. Same old, same old. I'll be sad when my buddies leave at the beginning of school, though. It just won't be the same without them....Cross country starts tomorrow, so that should boost my spirit some. My sister's running XC too, and I've been helping train her, but it's not going so well. She's not really into it, and I wish she would play tennis. She'd be happier there, but my mom insists that she should run on the team with me, so I can help her through the fall season. Woohoo. Sounds like fun....NOT. Oh well, I love my sister, though. More later.

This post is in response to "blank"s post. I will be the first to admit that I don't take everything the Bible says in a literal translation, and I am willing to bet a whole lot that "blank" doesn't obey everything or believe everything set forth in the Bible. I have done a lot of research in the Bible on this passage, and I have found a couple of things. One, Jesus never makes any call on whether or not same-sex marriage is unbiblical or against God's will in any way. Second, the Bible says that a man shall not lie with another man (Leviticus), but in the same passage, it also says that no one is to eat rare meat, have tatoos, cross breed livestock or wear clothing made of blended threads. While I have never done the first three, I wear clothes of blended threads daily. Who is to say that we can do one thing and not do another? God certainly hasn't come down, in a booming voice and proclaimed that we can do all of the once-forbidden things, except for same-sex marriage. Certainly, though, our country is not on its way to hell because we wear clothing of multiple threads. Also, in Timothy the exact translations of "homosexual" are not known and it is very unlikely that it is used the same way both then and now. Wait, don't forget that Timothy is also the one who is against women braiding their hair, wearing expensive clothing and jewelry, and does not permit women to speak at church. Now, as far as I am aware (and please, correct me if I am wrong), we allow women to do all of these things today! I do not take everything the Bible says literally. I also firmly believe that sexuality is not something people can control. I cannot comprehend why someone would choose to be homosexual, knowing full-well, all the torment and hatred they would be put through just because of their sexuality. I believe that being homosexual or heterosexual is part of who God made each of us to be. God made us unique and special, and He loves us for it. I believe that our sexuality is not our choice but rather an integral part of God's ultimate plan for us and for the rest of humanity. Disagree with me if you wish, but don't ever tell me that my way of thinking is unbiblical, especially when I go to church often and I have accepted Christ as my Savior.

Alright, it's time for me to rant about something. The Marriage Amendment.
I will continue to say about same-sex marriage what I have always said---- if they love each other, then who cares what sex they are? I believe that the government should stay out of people's private lives, unless the private lives of citizens interfere with or are causing harm in the lives of others.
President Bush can be really idiotic sometimes. Like this: "Our government should respect every person, and protect the institution of marriage. There is no contradiction between these responsibilities." Uhhh, yeah there is a BIG contradiction there. You can't respect every person, and at the same time tell them they can't be legally married to someone they are in love with. Somehow, that is VERY contradictory, to me.
"Ages of experience have taught humanity that the commitment of a husband and wife to love and to serve one another promotes the welfare of children and the stability of society." Okay, so let me get this straight. If a same-sex couple decides to adopt a child, then that child would not be as stable or would not have as loving a home? Hmmmm. . .how bout NOT! And the difference in the stability of society if we have no same-sex couples than if we do is WHAT!?!?!? That's complete and total bs. The truth is that, marriage isn't all that great in the first place, and I'll testify to that. My parents have been divorced for ten years, and ya know what? Nothing in the last ten years, not living in two different cities, not the lack of money because no child support was paid, not the many court visits, not the couseling, not the fighting, not the taking me out of town without telling the other parent, none of that made for a very good environment. And that was after they were NOT living together. Imagine the hell that went on when they were. Marriage is not some wonderful thing, because "for better or worse, as long as you both shall live" doesn't exist anymore. The president can't worry about the stability of society and welfare of children, if he hasn't made divorce illegal yet.
"Government, by recognizing and protecting marriage, serves the interests of all." Yeah, uh huh. Sure. Because we know that EVERYBODY wants same-sex marriage to be outlawed. Because everyone in America clearly wants the same thing. Ha. in your dreams!
Okay I'm done now. But c'mon. It's not as though legalizing same-sex marriage will bring our country down. Letting Bush run our country for another 4 years will be the end of America as we know it! Lol. [No apologies. So there] PS-go see Fahrenheit 9-11 at Brier Creek or Park Place (maybe?)

Dance, or the lackthereof in my life currently, is truly beginning to depress me. It hit me tonight, when I was in my kitchen, and a commercial with good music came on. I started crazily dancing around my kitchen, and realized I had inadvertantly picked up a clogging step I had never been able to master before. I haven't been in a clogging class since February, when the studio shut down, and suddenly I was longing very much for the old, busy, but absolutely wonderful routine of dance Monday through Thursday for three or four hours each night, and an extra private rehearsal or workshop on Saturdays. Suddenly I am longing to be deeply and passionately involved in something other than work.

I feel so isolated from my friends and everyone else. There was a time when I was doing basketball practice every afternoon, followed by rigorous hours of dance rehearsals, and of course I was totally immersed in the world of teaching dance. But suddenly, I feel like I have nothing, except a job, which I admit I am blessed and thankful to have. I work six or seven hours a day, five or six days a week, and on weekdays if I am not working, I am babysitting from 9-5. And when I'm not working or babysitting, I'm resting and trying to regain some energy.

Onto other current life happenings. My big current project is my novel, which I have begun to work on, once again. My mom and sister and I are probably going to move, once again, into my tenth or eleventh house in my lifetime. Argh, I hate moving. We've been in this house for nine months, and I am just beginning to unpack boxes and get truly settled in, and now we are house hunting again. Oh well.

Job update: My favorite manager, Josh has left and transferred to VA. I miss him a lot, because, though he has a sarcastic attitude, we got along very well. Overrall, my job is incredible. I dress for work everday, excited about another day on the clock, adn I say that in all seriousness. There is only one thing at work that I don't like, and I really hate to write publically about it, so I won't.

Song of the day: "Have You Ever Been In Love?" By Celine Dion
Have you ever been in love

You could touch the moonlight
When your heart is shooting stars
You're holding heaven in your arms
Have you ever been so in love

Have you ever walked on air
Ever felt like you were dreamin'
When you never thought it could
But it really feels that good
Have you ever been so in love

Have you ever been in love
You could touch the moonlight
When your heart is shooting stars
You're holding heaven in your arms
Have you ever been in love
Have you

The time I spent waiting for something
That was heaven sent
When you find it don't let go
I know...

Have you ever said a prayer
And found that it was answered
All my hope has been restored
And I ain't looking anymore
Have you ever been so in love
Have you

Some place that you ain't leavin'
Somewhere you gonna stay
When you finally found the meanin'
Have you ever felt this way

The time I spent waiting for something
That was heaven sent
When you find it don't let go
I know...

'Cause have you ever been in love
So in love

You could touch the moonlight
You can even reach the stars

Doesn't matter near or far
Have you ever been so in love
I said

'Cause have you ever been in love
Have you ever been in love
So in love

What's Wrong With the World??



Well, today is Independence Day, a day where we set off fireworks, and proudly wear red, white and blue, as we reflect on just how lucky we are to live in a free nation. Happy Birthday USA!
In other news, today I found out that my former dance studio director/teacher (the one who never paid the rent, and who kept all of our tuition and other fees) was arrested and jailed for possession of cocaine. She and a few others were pulled over in her car, and all arrested because there was cocaine in her car. As much as I would like to believe that she was driving around with the drugs unknowingly, I have to suck it up and face the hard reality that she may very well have been doing/dealing drugs. These are the times when it's hard to trust and have faith in this world. I wanted to believe her story of "my boyfriend ran off with my money. It's not my fault." But I guess people are going to let you down and we should just get on with our lives and make the best of it.

My Schedule:



1. Spanish 4 (Kraweic)
2. AP US History (Newmark)
3. AP Biology (Hames)
4. Adv. Math (Mahoney)
5. 20th Century Topics (Greenwalt)
6. AP Eng. III (Chalifoux)
This is subject to change, as I fear that all but my math class will be intensely reading-heavy, and I do not think that so much reading will be doable this year. Probably switch AP Eng for Adv. Eng, though Dr. Busonik thinks I should stay in AP. I really don't know what to do. I almost need to take Topics this year, because I'd like to take Psychology and AP Euro next year, and I don't think all three are good together, and highly unlikely on one schedule. Math obviously stays. Bio, I want to stay b/c I want to be a doctor and I've heard from a biology teacher that it's a pretty important course to take. APUSH---I don't know. Just always figured I'd take it. Spanish four seems the likely antecedent to Spanish 3, though I feel unready for the literature portion of the language I love so much. Maybe another year in Spanish III??? Yeah, I know that sounds bad, but .....oh I don't know. Advice and help in the chatterbox or by way of AIM is much appreciated. Seeing that it's past midnight, and I babysit from 10-4:45pm, and then work at the theatre (on opening day of Spiderman 2) from 5pm until 11pm or midnight, I should PROBABLY rest.

SO YEAH...

Apparently, everyone has their schedule for next year, except for me. *tear* Did I like get kicked out of RCHS and not informed about it? Or did I just miss the memo that says "If your name is Lindsay W. then you will not be receiving your schedule. Oh well, sucks for you."? Oh well. This week has been a happy and sad week. I miss Chile, and in fact, I think they call this feeling "homesick," but . . .can I really be homesick for a country I only visited for 10 days? The truth is that the entire country grew on me in a way that I cannot even describe. It is full of breath-taking scenery, spectacular views, and unspeakable beauty in nature. It's when I want to use the line (from Lonestar's song) "brushed by the hand of God." I mean, I may be a little bit cookey(sp?) because I've never been out of the States before (except when I went to Toronto at age 8 months, but somehow I doubt that counts), and I think I was just so amazed that there exists something beyond the comfort, and borders of my home. The one effect Chile didn't have on me, that I think it might have had on other people is a sense of how impovershed the world truly is. You see people everywhere who barely have a roof, who haven't seen a doctor in their lives, and who are living off of whatever they can find. (I know what you're thinking....it happens in America too, but you know what!?!?!? These people don't have an option. They can't pull themselves out of this state.) I know, I sound like some old-fangled, preachy person now, but I really realized how much I HAVE TO make a difference in the world. I have vowed not to spend any money, even if it means giving up having a car, and to go back next year. I have to figure out how to help these people. I also became more enraged with the US government while visiting Chile. Apparently, we helped the military coup of Chile overthrow a communist leader, whom everyone in Chile loved, who had stabilized the economy and government, and was doing great things for the country. And you know what!?!?! This man vowed not to leave his palace alive, and it is still unknown whether or not he killed hiimself or was murdered. And would you like to know what kind of government we allowed to be installed???? (I didn't think so, but I'm going to tell you anyway). They installed a military dictatorship, where the military police would cut off your hair if they decided it was too long, and do other insane things. I'm sorry, as unpatriotic as this may sound, but I have no desire to be associated with a country who takes part in any such actions. So there. I'm done ranting. Here's a good site of Chile photos, taken by Carolyn. It's not finished yet, just the beginning. (and there are plenty more stories to tell from work and from Chile.... just wait!)
http://www.peligro-gringos.blogspot.com In spanish, peligro=caution/danger and gringos=tourists, especially of the US species!

Chile's Emergency Room!


As most of you know, I went to Chile for 10 days recently. I enjoyed ever second of my time there, and I can't wait to go back, which I hopefully can. The entire country is made up of a rich culture, a mix of complete hopelessness and despair and yet so much unspeakable and indescribable beauty. I will post about the things we did down there later, but I need to post about the most "exciting" part of the entire trip.

It's 10pm, and the hosteria (hotel) we are staying at is hosting a convention for a university in Santiago. (The hotel is located in the middle of nowhere, about twenty minutes from any sort of true civilization...) Anyway, the convention had scheduled some folk dancers to come and perform, so being the "gringos" that we are, we decided to impose and watch too! It was awesome. Then they were like, "Quieren bailar?" My entire group thought I should go, so I went up on the make-shift stage and began to dance the Cueco. It was so much fun, but it only lasted about 45 seconds. When I was finished, whether from exhaustion and stress during the trip, or breathlessness from the dance lesson or sheer excitement (or a combination), I began to have an asthma attack. Paola, one of the directors, along with an American from NY who was attending the convention, helped calm me down after about ten minutes, and I was able to return to my room, and finish packing for our departure the next evening. Carolyn and I are upstairs talking, and suddenly I feel the asthma beginning to act up again. Roberto, the other director, was on our hallway, and stuck his head in the door. "You ok?" I nodded, but he didn't believe me and remained in our room, to see if I could calm down. I couldn't. He called Paola and Mr. Slattery and they all crowded around me on the floor of our room. Paola was coaching me in breathing, and Mr. Slattery was holding my hand, while Roberto rubbed my back. For forty five minutes, I continued to breathe at a rate that I cannot even describe. As I found out later, I was also in the middle of my first panic attack, mostly from the fear of passing out and ceasing to breathe, and of being thousands of miles away from home. They finally called a cab to take us to the nearest hospital (approx. 20 min. away). Mr. Slattery, Paola, Roberto and I climbed into the taxi, and my hands and face had gone completely numb. Even my eyelids were so numb that I couldn't hold my eyes open. When we arrived at the emergency room, the doctors and paramedics spoke in rapid Spanish, not that I could focus on anything long enough to listen anyway. They took my blood pressure twice, for a reason I will never know. Then took my oxygen level with that little finger thing, and said that I would soon pass out because I wasn't getting enough oxygen. They then put an O2 mask on me, but unfortunately, the oxygen was coming in at such a rapid rate compared to what I had been breathing in for the last two hours, that I began choking on air. The doctor began to get frustrated because I couldn't calm down. So they gave me a shot of some kind of relaxant in the vein of my right arm, but not before I fought against it. Roberto finally held my arm down, while Mr Slattery let me squeeze the living daylights out of his hand. I was crying and gasping for air, and scared out of my mind, thousands of miles from home. (dude, I was in a third world country's hospital. Who knows what the heck they were putting into my blood stream!?) Then they switched the oxygen they were giving me to some type of steam, which freaked me out, and I panicked even further.
I settled down a few minutes later. I was okay, and then they came in and told us that there had been a car accident, and that they needed this room. I was moved to another room. Paola, Roberto and Mr. Slattery did their best to get me settled onto the stiff hospital bed in a room that was divided by a curtain. My first reaction, between quick gasps for air, "Don't I get more oxygen?" The answer was no. Weird, I thought, but whatever. I could only have one person with me in the room, so Mr. Slattery stayed with me. I was okay, and he was calming me down even more. Then he started joking with me about opening the curtain to see if the guy in the bed on the other side wanted to be my pololo (boyfriend). The goal was for the joke for me to relax. Instead, I began wheezing and coughing and gasping again. My entire body became tingly with numbness, from my head, ears and eyelids to my toes, and I regret to say I cried in front of Mr. Slattery because I was so terrified. I was in a friggin' third world country, and far away from home. My breathing became very irratic, and I panicked again, sending me into yet another serious panic attack. But there was a problem. All the doctors were too busy with the car accident, so for more than a half hour, Mr. Slattery and I tried to keep me from passing out and attempted to slow my breathing. Finally the doctor returned, and put another injection in the vein of my left arm, and gave me more of the steam stuff. I think I blacked out then because I don't remember anything until I woke up and saw Mr. Slattery and Paola talking. Exhausted, I put my head back down and went back to sleep. The next time I woke up, they told me the doctor had cleared me to go back to the hotel, but as I tried to climb off the hospital bed, I found I couldn't walk because I was too dizzy. Long story short, I was fine after a while. I had another panic attack on the plane from Santiago to Atlanta, but Mr. Slattery took care of me, and stayed with me so I wouldn't be too scared. I had a third and hopefully final panic attack last night at my house right after dinner. The paramedics came and calmed me down, but not before my body had gone numb. I've been to the doctor, and I am completely healthy, just apparently really anxious and stressed about something and therefore panicked, maybe from being far away from home, and then from being scared of passing out once I was home....who knows...

Okay, it's official high school students are STUPID, in all capital letters. This kid drank a poison from a chemistry lab because someone dared him to. Give me a break. This is insane. It's like giving kids Nalgene bottles and telling them that they are unbreakable. I know this kid at my school who ran over it in his car....why do we insist on acting like fools? Oh well. I'm done ranting for the night.

Hehehe, gotta love this! lol.






You are going to marry Josh Hartnett. He is really
shy, but don't let that fool you. He is really
outgoing and sweet with those he loves and will
be loyal to them for the rest of his life.
Congrats!!


Which male celebrity are you going to marry? (now 12 (i just added more, and still more to come!)results that have pics!)
brought to you by Quizilla

Day in the life of a highschooler, fun lol


I have to ask you this: Is overachieving a bad thing? In two of my classes (AP Env. and Spanish III) all the juniors and seniors (or, as it seems fit to call them collectively, THE REST OF THE CLASS) seems to think I am some genius, overachieving, nerdy sophomore. Maybe this is territoriality, or maybe there's some truth to it. It was the same way in Spanish II and ELPs last year. They order me around 99% of the time, but the second that a group assignment or project is dolled out, everyone is vying to be in my group. Maybe some of this on-again, off-again relationship can be attributed to the fact that APES and Spanish III are traditionally (at least at RCHS) junior or senior classes. I don't mind. Actually, I think it is kind of funny. We were watching "A Civil Action" in class, and at the end they have lots of little blurbs about where all the characters are now. I was in the front, so one person in the back says, "Hey, Sophomore, please read that." I complied and read it to them, so I guess this entire thing is just as much my fault as theirs. Anyway, overachieving. They all think I'm some hunky-dory overachiever who has nothing better to do than sit at home and study. The truth is that studying is byfar the bane of my existence. Okay, anyway, so they also think that everytime I am reading just for pleasure that I must be a geek. (lol, that's a good one.) If someone hands me a novel that looks even remotely interesting, I have been known to stay up past 3am in order to not have to put down the book. So, yeah, maybe I am a geek.


Now on to how mean some people can be. I was in health the other day, and I had gotten there first, so I lay down on the coveted couch. We ended up watching a movie and so right before it started, this freshman came over and said, "Lindsay, move your damn feet so I can sit down." I looked at him and said, "Ask nicely. I'm not a dog." (bad example, I don't even talk to my dog that way 'cept when she's in trouble.) He simply said, more irritably, "Move your damn feet." I didn't move. He was getting mad, but I'm sorry, I AM NOT GOING TO COMPLY WHEN YOU TREAT ME LIKE I'M SOME PIECE OF DIRT. Anyway, I got on his nerves because I wasn't being as subservient as he would have liked. Oh well.

Pure Angel????










Congrats! Your a Pure Angel! Angels, as far as most
of them go, are all compatabile creatures, but
Pure ones simply are symbols of God. Pure
Angels always appear when a child is born, when
a rainbow is seen, or when someone shares their
first kiss. They never grow old, an can appear
in the shape of a woman with white, bold
wings. Pure angels are the carriers of god, and
show their love to everyone in the world.


What Kind of ANGEL are you? (For Girls only) This Quiz has amazingly Beautiful Pictures!
brought to you by Quizilla

Hey now... Rubik's Cube









Hey, this is SOOOO NOT NOT NOT COOL!


You're Rubik's Cube!! You may think you're
popular, but you're actually extremely
annoying. Seriously.


What childhood toy from the 80s are you?
brought to you by Quizilla



But anyway, who cares? I, for one, LOVE rubik's cubes!

Stress, Stress, Stress, and More Stress!








Nothing much has happened this week. I'm really stressed about my new job, about finals, about going out of the country, about school ending, and about stuff in general. It's funny how little things can get you all worked up about all the big stuff you considered rather unimportant up until that point.
Yesterday was quite possibly the longest day I've had in a looonnnngggg time. School wasn't overly bad or anything. We watched a movie in health, and signed yearbooks. We designed houses in APES, specifically Green Architecture houses. (ours was cool!) Chemistry was EOC prep, and English was Final exam prep, as was Spanish. we just signed yearbooks in Alg. II and in Publications, we worked on our webpages. I was supposed to start work last night, but I couldn't because I couldn't find anyone qualified to sign my work permit. My employer told me that my school counselor could, but apparently he was dead wrong. We drove all over town while my sister got her hair fixed (for the eighth grade dance) looking for SOMEONE, ANYONE, who was qualified to sign the permit. Upon finding zilch, we returned to the hair dresser, with me close to tears, in fear of losing a job I had yet to even begin. Then my sister realized she still needed earrings for the dance, so my mom and I got back in the car to drive to Stein Mart to pick out some earrings for her, while she continues to receive an up-do. My mom cranks the car, and it sputters, and stops. We crank it at least five more times, trying everything we know. She is close to tears by this time too because she is stressed as well. She goes back inside the salon, to see if the hair dresser, Teresa has any jumper cables. I remain outside to call anyone I can think of to come pick my sister up to get her to the 8th grade dance. I can't get anyone to answer. I'm freaking out, so I decide to see what everyone is doing inside. I get out, and hit the power lock button on the passenger side to lock the doors. Nothing happens. I hit it again and again, and still NOTHING. I go to the drivers side and do the same thing. Nothing happens. FInally I manually lock all the doors. (that is when I KNOW for sure our car is dead.) Teresa doesn't have jumper cables, and it will take AAA at least two hours to arrive, making my sister insanely late for what is supposed to be the greatest night of her middle school life. My mom hands me money, determined to make this work for my sister, and tells me to "sprint to stein mart like you've never sprinted before and get her the earrings." I comply, even though the heat is more than stifling, it's my sister's night. I get the earrings back in record time, and my sister looks incredible, indescribable. (ever wonder why ANY parent would give up such a blessed opportunity in their child's life? more than i can fathom). My mom's friend calls and says she got our message and is on her way to pick Sherby and me up, and we'll go back to the house and I'll play mother for the night and help her get ready. Meanwhile, Teresa and I go look under the hood. We lift up the top on the battery and about three cups worth of what can be described as homemade chalk falls out. Yeah, our battery was corroded beyond imagination. My mom takes Teresa's car to Wal Mart and spends fifty dollars on a new battery for a car that she traded in today, for a smaller, not-so-gas-guzzling car. Oh well. I help my sister get ready, even though she is seething mad, at the world. She yells and screams and throws stuff, and has an all-out temper tantrum, while I try not to scream back or bang my head against the wall. She ends up being so mad while she is painting her toenails that she drops the brush, and toe nail polish gets on her black dress. Well, remover, alcohol, peroxide, and contact cleaner don't work. I was out of cleaning ideas, so I took black liquid eyeliner and covered it up (the miracles of makeup), while trying to convince her to stop crying, that all is not lost (yet). Then we can't find a dressy purse. Her earring won't close. My mom's friend is late picking us up. She hates her hair do, so she takes it out and brushes it. Amazingly, my mom's friend arrives just five minutes before, by some miracle, my mom pulls up. I take about five digital pictures, and we all pile into the car, hoping to somehow revive this night.
All in all, her night turned out fine, other than the fact that she couldn't walk in her heels. I was so tense by the time we got back from taking her, that I went running. Not a great idea, first considering it was eight thirty, and second considering that I haven't run in seven months. Yeah, oh well. It was actually a really decent run. :)

New Template

Well, I got a new template. Not sure how much I like it, but for now, it will suffice. I don't have much to talk about. I got a job at the movie theatre on Atlantic Springs/Spring Forest. It's a very clean theatre, but the perks of the job stop there. Anyway, we had a dance competition this past Saturday, and my "team" got 1st in our division, and 5th out of 1500 dances... kinda upsetting, but hey--- win some, lose some.

In other news we tie-dyed in chemistry. It was uber fun! lol. I did a design called "star burst" and I really like the results. Today in AP Env. Sci. we are walking to Krispy Kreme and then to an architect's office to learn about Green Architecture. Only four full days of school, then a half day, and exams!!!! Then SUMMER VACATION. I will miss sophomore year, though. It was a good, good, year. :)

Well, I have a lot to say about the whole Iraq thing. First, I just cannot comprehend in any way, shape or form HOW we can go into a country, take over, act all high and mighty because we're a civilized country and a democracy at that, and then turn around and treat the Iraqi people no better than Saddam Hussein. Regardless of your political ideology, your upbringing, your views on the war, your hatred or love for George W. Bush, somewhere deep down inside, I KNOW that any decent person knows that what OUR soldiers did to those prisoners is WRONG. I have watched specials on Sixty Minutes, listened to Jerry Agar, and watched the news, along with having read internet articles about the alleged abuse. I even read an article in People magazine where one of the seven soldiers who is being punished and held accountable for his actions (imagine that!!!!) is claiming that he did nothing wrong, and he is blaming it on his commanders. First, okay, if your commanders do a crappy job of supervising, some blame can be placed on their shoulders, but any person with morals ought to have questions about whether or not the abuse is decent and right. Further more, how can any person do such haneous things, and still believe that Saddam Hussein is pure evil. While I don't disagree with much of that former statement, I have to say that if you beat up, soddomize, scare and pour phosphoric liquid on another living human being then you are NO better than Saddam Hussein. [Note: this does NOT mean that I am not fully in support of the majority of our troups. I do not want another vietnam post-war situation. Our soldiers need support, but those that are doing immoral things that would be undoubtedly punished had they occurred on U.S. soil, should be thoroughly and rightfully punished. This rant also does not mean that I think the beheading of a U.S. citizen by Iraqis was in anyway justified.] Oh, and the whole thing about Donald Rumsfeld needing to resign. I don't know how I feel about that. I feel like he and Bush got us into this mess, but at the same time, they certainly did NOT stand in front of those soldiers and suggest or order that they commit these offenses.

The people who protect us and serve for us in a time of danger or war are those that are shaming us and killing our image. If I were another country, I would think twice before befriending Americans....soldiers or not.

I thought the country I was born in, the country I grew up believing in was above this. I guess I was wrong.......

Let's see---lately my life has been a string of crazy, insane happenings. First there was the election--- I lost, of course. Then came plenty of work and ex days, with the cultural fair to prepare for. At the last second the cultural fair was cancelled, and so all the work that Rachel and I put into our project was down the drain. Oh well, maybe next year. Then I had to shop cause I was in serious need of a few things from Kohls. Then I babysat for Lily and Gracie, and Lily is sitting up all by herself!!!! She's such a cool baby. Then I had my Spanish project on food, and I had to make Paella, Fajitas, and Tortilla Espanola. On top of that, there was church, youth group, and Sunday school, normal homework, and studying for an out-of-place APES final. My AP Env. Sci final is this week, Tues and Wed. It annoys me b/c I am NOT NOT NOT NOT NOT in study mode yet. I get in true, work-like-I-can't-imagine, study my butt off, read, review about a week before exams start, and I study soooooo hard. But three weeks before, I am still in the end-of-the-year slacker mode. Plus, my teacher does NOT know ANYTHING!!!! NADA, when it comes to APES, at least. He asked us what the largest reservoir of carbon was, and we said rocks, esp limestone, and he was like "No the book says it's the atmosphere." Well, I looked it up in the book and it said "The largest reservoir of carbon is rocks." Well, okay, everyone makes mistakes I guess, but still. . . it's frustrating b/c you should be able to go to your teachers for help and everytime I try to he says "Oh, I'll have to look that up in the book" and he either never does or he never gets back to me about it. ARGH. Anyway, the final shoudl be fairly simple, just basic terms and knowledge.


Which brings me to my final point about APES-- when I signed up to take this course, even though it's required, I though it would be a very liberal, heres-how-you-can-save-the-world, kind of course. But it is NOT NOT NOT NOT NOT anything like that. It's facts and figures. Most of our tests are like "how many people are in the world?" a) 6.1 bill b) 6.3 bill c)6.5 bill. d)6.6 bill. And as much as all of that fascinates me, I'd really rather be doing civil action or something or saving the world. But I guess this is school, after all. *sigh*

Sorry, it's been a long time since I last posted.

Let's see.....

At the JamFest National Competition, we scored first in our division (senior variety open), and we also got first in the nation for the overall category of dance.

I have been insanely busy: preparing for Chile, running for Junior class office, regular homework, the cultural fair, getting our old house put on the market, and so much more.

Nevertheless, though, I tell you, I thrive on craziness. More later. Time for school. Elections are today--- wish me luck!

Alright so now I wanna talk about the dance/cheer competition, 'cause I am way over excited, but I think that's a good thing....maybe....just a little?!

Anyway, the host is JamFest, and it's the National Cheerleading and Dance Competition, and it will be held in Washington, D.C. for a whole three days! WOOHOO!

Let's see....Quintin is my instructor, and he's pretty cool, though I really like working with Ashley, who is a college student at Peace, and works at the gym part time. She's really sweet. She takes me to practice ('cause Peace and RCHS are like next door) whenever we have unusual practices (i.e. before 5:30pm) and my mom can't take me. We have lots of fun, flooring it at yellow lights, and blarring the radio (she likes country too!), and we always race to beat Kevin (who also works at the gym, and I think owns the place) to the gym if it's an early practice (i.e. 3pm) If we beat him, like we did last Thursday, then we get to park in HIS parking space, which is a HUMONGOUS deal!!!!! :) Yeah, it's fun stuff. Ashley laughed at me the first time we rode together because I said all of 4 words to her in the ten minute drive to the gym from RCHS. She said "how are you?" and I said "Fine, thank you." well, those were three of the four words. The other word was a "yes" when she asked me some other question. Yeah, she thinks it's funny I don't talk to her, 'cause she knows I rarely shut up during class....hehehe.

Anyway, back to the competition. We are leaving early Friday afternoon and headin' up to DC, and we will compete twice in the Open Category, and the judges will average the two scores. The Open Category is a mix of Pom (what cheerleaders do), hip hop, jazz, kick, and gymnastics moves....The dance is a mix of songs that I haven't even heard yet, but it should be good, cause Kevin's making it. We're wearing plain black jazz pants, and royal blue shirts. One side has a long sleeve, and the other is just a strap....interesting. So one arm will be sweating and boiling hot and the other will be cool....hmmmm....interesting concept.


In other news, our gym CATS Cheer and Tumble School of Raleigh will be merging with EXCEL, another gym, to form one of the largest cheer families on the east coast. So it should be fun....yeah, I gotta pack for the beach. More later. And if I can figure out how to work our digital camera, I'll take pics at the competition and post them...but that's unlikely b/c I'm technologically challenged. *sheepish grin*

Alright, where to start???
Let's see, I've had two Flex Days since I lasted posted. Truth be told, I thought only one of them left a lot to be desired, but that's just me. The first activity on the first Friday was Optical Illusions, 'cept it was really drawing on beach balls and blowing bubbles...yep no joke. The bubbles were fun but the beach ball activity was just stupid.....We drew a line from the "north pole" to the "south pole" of the beach ball, then the instructor asked if that was a "straight line." Of course it is. If you take it off the surface, it is a straight line. ......oh well. The coolest part of the bubble thingy was making the hypercube, filling it with bubble mixture by carefully dunking it in the bucket, and then pulling it out. It only worked once, but theoretically you should get a third cube made entirely of bubbles inside the smaller of the two original cubes. It's really cool.

The second activity that day for me was Ethics, which was a science activity that dealt with issues such as DNA databases, research and testing, genetically modified foods, whistleblowers in the science field, and other things such as medicare and different anti-depressant drugs. We got split into one of those categories, paired up and then we were told either pro or ocn, and we had to debate that topic in front of partners from all the categories. I was whistleblowers...kinda boring, but very important. It's easy, I think, to sit and say, "oh yeah, I would blow the whistle, even if it cost me my job," but out in the real world....would it be so easy???

My next Flex day I watched Gallipoli in the morning. It's a movie about the WWI battle at Gallipoli, which if I am not mistaken is off the island of Turkey. It's got Mel Gibson, about twenty years ago, in it, and it's really sad. These guys all go off to war, with glory in mind, and their first battle is tragic. They were fighting the Turks from the bottom of a hill (trench warfare), and the Turks were at the top of the hill. They got an order to take all the ammunition out of their guns because the Turks weren't worth wasting ammunition on. These guys could only use their bayonets, and that meant running up hill and getting as close to the Turks as possible. I will leave the end to your viewing. My only negative comment about the movie was the music. It was the same as that from Chariots of Fire, one of my favorite movies. The synthesizer was a big thing when both these movies were made, and in Chariots of Fire I didn't notice that it was kinda out of place, but in a WWI movie, it distracts you.

In the afternoon we went to the NC Museum of Art, and had a tour completely in Spanish.....fun fun fun. I'll leave the details of our excursion and our wacky tour guide up to your imagination! :)

I'm leaving for the beach tomorrow afternoon. Other than that....yep. Spring break is droning slowly on, but that's not to say I'm not enjoying it. I can stay up reading till 2am and not get up till 11, and still do anything I wanna do all day....it's nice.


"Some days you gotta dance
Live it up when you get the chance
Cause when the world doesn’t make no sense
And you’re feeling just a little too tense
Gotta loosen up those chains and dance" ("Some Days You Gotta Dance" by the Dixie Chicks)

THINK GASOLINE PRICES ARE HIGH? (we bought gas today for $1.70 per gallon...)

Compare the following with the cost of Gasoline. Do your own math.


Diet Snapple 16 oz costs $1.29 - that's $10.32 per gallon

Lipton Ice Tea 16 oz costs $1.19 - that's $9.52 per gallon

Gatorade 20 oz costs $1.59 - that's $10.17 per gallon

Ocean Spray 16 oz costs $1.25 - that's $10.00 per gallon

Brake Fluid 12 oz costs $3.15 - that's $33.60 per gallon

Vick's Nyquil 6 oz costs $8.35 - that's $178.13 per gallon

Pepto Bismol 4 oz costs $3.85 - that's $123.20 per gallon

White-Out 7 oz costs $1.39 - that's $25.42 per gallon

Scope 1.5 oz costs $.99 - that's $84.48 per gallon

And this is the REAL KICKER . . .

Evian water 9 oz costs $1.49 - that's $21.19 per gallon.

$21.19 for WATER - and the buyers don't even know the source. So, the next time
you're at the pump, be glad your car doesn't run on water, Scope, White-Out, or,
God forbid, Pepto Bismal or Nyquil.

Here are the lyrics to a really cool song, that I absolutely LOVE!

It's by Gordon Lightfoot and it's called "The Pony Man"

When it's midnight on the meadow
And the cats are in the shed
And the river tells a story
At the window by my bed
If you listen very closely
Be as quiet as you can
In the yard you'll hear him
It is the pony man
We're always there to greet him
When he tumbles into town
He leads a string of ponies
Some are white and some are brown
And they never seem to kick or bite
They only want to play
And they live on candy apples
Instead of oats and hay

And when we're all assembled
He gives a soft command
And we climb aboard our ponies
As in a row they stand
Then down the road we gallop
And across the fields we fly
And soon we all go sailing off
Into the midnight sky

And as we gaily rock along
Beside a ripplin' sea
There's Tom 'n Dick 'n Sally
And Mary Joe and me
And the pony man is leading
Cause he's travelled here before
And he gives a whoop and a holler
At Mr. Moon's front door

And as we stop to rest a while
Where the soda river glides
Up to the slip comes a pirate ship
To take us for a ride
And the pony man's the captain
And the children are the crew
And we go in search of treasure
And laugh the whole night through

And when the hold is filled with gold
And the sails begin to strain
And the deck's piled high with apple pie
We head for port again
And down the whirling starcase
So swift our ponies fly
And we're safely in our beds again
When the sunbeams kiss the sky

When it's midnight on the meadow
And the cats are in the shed
And the river tells a story
At the window by my bed
If you listen very closely
Be as quiet as you can
In the yard you'll hear him
It is the pony man

I will post more later about my weekend and about Metamorphosis with church, but I will leave you with one quote from the weekend.

"I'm a yankee, and I don't understand why people in the South say all o' y'all. Doesn't y'all cover it? I mean, doesn't y'all mean you all?"

OUR response: "One person is You, Two people is Y'all, and three or more is All O' Y'all!"

I, being the klutz that I am, was running around outside the church Saturday night, and as I went from the sidewalk to the parkinglot, I missed the curb, and fell full-force, forward onto the speed bump, and slid about two feet down it before grinding to a halt. So two purple/bluish/greenish/blackish knees and a scraped elbow and hand later, I have decided not to play near speed bumps ever again! :)

I feel like I should write something substantial on my blog, since all the other blogs I read are about something worthwhile..... Hmmmm.....
Alright, well I guess I will comment on this story.

To begin, this guy robbed, raped and killed a young mother, and left her baby alone. How do I feel about this (all mental problems, addictions and life tragedies aside...)? That was a haneous thing to do, and I believe he should be punished. Now, I do not believe in the death penalty, but this guy deserves at least life. Because of him, two parents no longer have a daughter, siblings are missing their sister and a little boy, age three, is motherless. All because this guy decided to end her life long before her time.

Ok, second, I want to comment on the portrayal the defense council is making of this man. He was abused as a child; he has a low IQ and "severe mental disorders"; and he is/was addicted to cocaine and alcohol. Okay, while I don't want to sound naiive, being an abused child does not give you the right to take your anger/hurt out on some innocent woman. This may sound mean, and cruel, but I don't care how hard your life is, or how much you suffered. That's what therapy is for. You can't just up and kill someone because you were abused as a child...that is only perpetuating the vicious cycle.... Look at Dave Pelzer. I'm not saying that every abused child will turn out that way, but killing someone doesn't take away the anger.
Now, about the mental problems and low IQ. We have seen before in our state that convicted felons are pardoned and do not receive the death penalty because of their IQ. While I do not know enough about the human mind, and this man's IQ and intelligence level in particular, I want to say that I think this could keep him out of the death chamber, but hopefully not out of prison, or out of an institution. If we let him go free, with little or no consequence, what's to stop him from killing someone else? Furthermore, I would like to say that this man beat this woman to death with a thirty-pound tire rim...Okay, no offense, but no matter how low your IQ is, (assuming you are capable of normal daily functions independently), you would HAVE to know what you were doing to beat someone to death with a thirty pound tire rim...I mean, it would clearly be repeated blows, and with clear intent. (I say murder one)
Now onto the alcohol and cocaine addictions. Two words: Alcoholics/Narcotics Anonymous. While I am sure that seeking treatment is hard, and takes a lot of emotional and mental courage, I also have heard success stories. No one is perfect, but could you please tell me why we would excuse someone of murder because they were addicted to cocaine and alcohol. Please tell me that our justice system has not sunken so low as to excuse haneous crimes on the basis of addictions....

Ok, I'm done. Please disagree if you are so compelled. I'll try to write more substantial and intelligent things in my blog from now on--- No promises though!!

So, I am going to tell you all about my adventures in babysitting land. A not-so-new thing for me, as I have been doing it for four years, but when the job exceeds 10 hours (17 total), it becomes an entirely different world. I arrive a little before scheduled ETA, at 7:54am, with the plan being that the parents could have an entire day off without the kids. And when I say an ENTIRE day, I mean, ENTIRE!!! (8am-1am, yes my friends 17 looonnnggg hours of an unexperienced phenomena that some like to call parenthood.) By the grace of some divine force, I had only two children to watch for that long seventeen hours, Catherine Grace (dubbed Gracie), age 2 1/2, and Lily age 8 months.

Breakfast: about 8:15, the parents had gone, (to where for 17 hours, I can not imagine, but whatever), and I fixed Gracie some Froot Loops for Breakfast. Then I gave Lily her bottle, which she happily fed herself. (Yes, my friends, two weeks ago when I last watched these children, Lily couldn't grasp the bottle on her own, and now she can, an amazing feat, to be sure!)
Then I put Lily in her bouncer and let her watch Baby Einstein. Oh the joys of stimulating young minds early!!! Gracie and I read Chicka Chicka Boom Boom at least ten times. Repition never gets old with two year olds! Gracie then watched the Barney movie called "You Can Be Anything", and Lily and I played on her play mat/baby gym. Lily never cries, except when she has the hiccups for more than 10 minutes at a time, or when you use the nose cleaner to get the gunk out of her nose because she has a cold. Around about 10am, Gracie wanted a snack, and Lily was ready for another bottle, but this time Lily and I ran into a feeding problem. She was having trouble not choking on the milk every time she swallowed. I remembered how her mother had fed her once Lily came home from the hospital. (Lily was born three months premature, and spent the first eight weeks of her life at Wake Med in the NICU.) Using a boppy and the football hold, Lily and I successfully got her fed!!! Then I decided it was high-time to clean up the kitchen. Putting in another movie for Gracie, I then put Lily in her swing, and proceeded to clean the kitchen. Lily and Gracie and I then played Super Baby, a game I made up for Lily's enjoyment. You put her in your lap, facing outwards, and then start saying in a very dramatic voice:
"Super Baby, Strange baby from another planet who came to earth with Powers and Abilities, far beyond those of mortal babies, Super Baby. Who can Change dirty diapers, bend diaper pins in her bare hands, and who disguised as Lily, mild-mannered baby who lives in a house, fights a never ending battle for TRUTH, JUSTICE and THE BABY WAY. Super baby."
While doing this you make appropriate motions with Lily's hands and such. She absolutely thought this was a great game. Come to think of it, so did Gracie. Gracie kept telling me to do it agian, and again and again. After what was the twentieth time, both Lily and I were tiring of this game....which is no surprise....
Let's finish up the day quickly, even though it was a loonnnggg day. Both girls had some lunch, Lily isn't on solid foods yet...but she likes these Gerber cookies, which she sucks on and makes a HUGE mess.....Then Gracie went upstairs and took a nap in her bed, and Lily fell asleep in her swing. They got up, and we watched Baby Van Gogh together, adn then played on the play mat some more. Lily had another bottle, using the wondrous techniques on the Coppy, and Gracie had Spaghetti O's and cut-up apple for dinner. It was still light outside so we walked about a block up the street, Gracie in her motorized Barbie car, and Lily in the stroller. But as the sun began to set, it got cool, and so we headed back inside. Gracie had an accident, standing right next to the potty, but alas alack I suppose that is child-rearing for you. Lily, of course, lay of the baby mat three feet away from me, as I scrubbed the floor. Needless to say, she made these giggling/gargling sounds that had to have been laughter as she watched me cleaning up. She fell asleep in my arms, with little protest after a bottle and a half more. I gently put her in her crib, praying she wouldn't wake up again, (not because I don't love her to death, but because she was tired and fighting sleep wasn't doing anyone any good) and turned on her humidifier. Gracie went to bed soonafter, and I cleaned up the toys and the kitchen and checked on both a few times before their parents arrived back at the house at 1am. A long night but it definitely opened my eyes to the world of parenthood. I am pretty happy being a teenager right now.....

Hmmm, I think I will rant about the National Spanish exam for a few....

Well, let's start by saying my attention span on a scale of 1-10 (10 being the highest) is a 3 or 4. But that is irrelevant until you understand the layout of the test. So there is a listening section, which I don't mind, mostly because we do them in class and they are usually not too difficult. So there are three parts to the listening section:
Part 1: You hear (13) questions read, one at a time, and there are four choices for answers for each question. The question is only read once (everytime we do something similar in class, they ALWAYS read the question twice), and you have twenty seconds to find an answer. So, you must figure out what the question is asking, as it is in spanish, and then translate the answers in your head and fill in the circle. You have thirteen total.

Part 2: You hear a conversation between two native-Spanish speakers that lasts about 30-45 seconds. Then you are asked a question in Spanish and given four possible choices. Paying attention during the conversation and processing it at hte same time is very very difficult. Then you have twenty seconds to figure out the answer. Both the conversation and teh question are only read once. You have about nine of these.

Part 3: A lot like part 2, except you have a passage instead of a conversation. Teh passage is usually something random like the economics of Chile, or something. The same process still applies. It is read once, followed by a question, read once, and four answers written on paper.

So after you have suffered through an intense listening section, with no breaks, you have the written part of the test, which is basically a series of paragraphs that you read and fill in the blanks with the best answer choice. Not too hard, except that you sometimes have to figure out which of the eight or so tenses you know they want....

Oh well, it's over now!!! Hooray.

I might post more about the grades later.....

Well, let's see. I have not posted anything substantial in quite some time. I have been running around, insanely busy, with my cheer/tumble/dance class, school projects and tests, and a whole lot of other stuff. Craziness only perpetuates craziness with me. The busier I am, the more hyper I get, and thus the more frustrated I am apt to become. Oh well.

On to the dance class. I feel guilty saying I like it because my committment was to A'La Dance Magic, but I truly enjoy it. We are doing a combination of hip-hop, jazz and cheer moves, which we will compete three times. Once in Washington DC, and twice in local NC. I am excited about actually getting the opportunity to perform!!! **BIG BIG smile**

Job-- well, I have applied at five places, and am working on more applications as we speak. Some places I can't really see myself working, but a job doesn't have to be something you completely enjoy, especially if it is a part-time job. I have applied at Subway (my 2nd choice), Kidworks, Little Gym (my first choice), Morrisville Parks and Rec (yeah, I know...my mom's idea), and at Brother's Cleaners.

School-- School is crazy busy as always, and it seems the work never ever ends. We had a Kyoto Treaty Conference in APES, where I was the United States Rep. Well, the U.S. dropped out in real life and all the other countries are really ticked about it, so they were like throwing insults out about how the U.S. is selfish, and such..... It was quite humorous actually. Chemistry is always lots of fun, but I have decided something: Mr. Grunden is really, really really smart---- not in a bad way, but he just has all this knowledge about, well, everything. Lol. Spanish is probably one of my favorite classes right now, even if I am the only sophomore in my class.....I am writing two articles for the school paper for the April Fool's issue. One is "Survivor At RCHS" in which we make up a story about the teachers being on Survivor. We haven't decided who will win yet. The other article is a "Teacher Cookoff" We are going to invite all staff to cook/prepare either a dessert or an entre, and then students pay to sample the food. There will be prizes for best, worst, ugliest, oddest, etc dish. The students can also enter a raffle. It should be fun. So far, Dr. Humble, Mr. Grant, Mr. Grunden, Ms. Greenwalt, Ms. Talley, Ms. Scicinska, Mr. Slattery, Coach Jones, Mr. Stapleton, and Dr. Busonik have agreed to cook something, but I can't tell you who's cooking what!!!!! ;) So bug your teachers to enter, and come on down, and taste the food!!!! (All profits go to The Flame, the school newspaper)

In other news---- the school, our school, MY school was vandalized by two RCHS students. I cannot fully understand what pushed them to do so, but maybe it is not for me to understand. I am angry and also hurt, mostly because I didn't think something to this extent happened at RCHS. Enloe, maybe. RCHS, no.

It's time for school now. I will post more later. Today is the National Spanish Exam. Very nervous.... In order to get extra credit, you have to score above your class average. I don't think I can do that.... it's easy for people who understand the material and just don't turn in their homework and thus have a C or D, but Mr. Slattery was like "For those of you who have an A, it'll be much harder to get credit." Gee, sounds like a fun day to me.

Babysitting this weekend... 8am-1am. (I wonder why people want babysitters for soooo long!)

Here's one of the bestest country songs ever!


"Cowboy's like us, sure do have fun,
racin' the wind; chasin' the sun.
Take the long way around back to square one
Today we're just outlaws, out on the run;
There'll be no regrets, no worries and such,
Cowboys like us...."

I got this on email. Very cute, but oh so true! hehehe. Just goes to show that dogs are a million times better than cats!!! (yeah, Jenna, Finney, Max, Mysti, and Deacon), but those of you who read this, don't mention my dog preference to my cats (Hope, Casey and Ginger would absolutely hate me forever....) *wink*
Dog's diary:
8am-Oh Boy! Dog food! My favorite!
9am-Oh Boy! A car ride! My favorite
10am-Oh Boy! A walk! My favorite!
11am-Oh Boy! A car ride! My favorite!
Noon-Oh Boy! The kids! My favorite!
1pm-Oh Boy! The yard! My favorite!
3pm-Oh Boy! The kids! My favorite!
4pm-Oh Boy! Dog food! My favorite!
5pm-Oh Boy! Mom! My favorite!
7pm-Oh Boy! Playing ball! My favorite!
9pm-Oh Boy! Sleeping in master's bed! My favorite!

Cat's diary:
Day 183 of my captivity...
My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while I am forced to eat dry cereal. The only thing that keeps me going is the hope of escape, and the mild satisfaction I get from ruining the occasional piece of furniture. Tomorrow I may eat another house plant.

Today my attempt to kill my captors by weaving around their feet while they were walking almost succeeded-must try this at the top of the stairs.

In an attempt to disgust and repulse these vile oppressors, I once again induced myself to vomit on their favorite chair-must try this on their bed.

Decapitated a mouse and brought them the headless body, in an attempt to make them aware of what I am capable of, and to try to strike fear into their hearts. They only cooed and condescended about what a good little cat I was. This did not work according to plan.

Last night there was some sort of gathering of their accomplices. I was placed in solitary throughout the entire event. However, I could hear the noise and smell the food. More importantly I overheard that my confinement was due to MY power of "allergies." Must learn more about what this is, and how to use it to my advantage.

I am convinced the other captives are flunkies, or more likely snitches. The dog is routinely released and seems more than happy to return. He is obviously a half-wit. The
bird on the other hand has got to be an informant, and speaks with them regularly. I am certain he reports my every move. Due to his current placement in the metal room, for now his safety is assured. But I can wait, it is only a matter of time...

Time is my friend, I can wait, I will repay them all.

I'll write more when I have time but for now, two wonderful quotes....








"You were born and original. Don't die a copy." -John Mason




"When I am president, I am going to make sure all the homeless people have a house. They won't even have to pay for it. And I'll give them a car too. They need something to go in the garage." -Victoria, age 8 (one of my former dance students)




True dat.

Quite a few of you have been asking about or offering to help with the dance studio crisis right now. Firstly, I thank you all for your on-going support, and your constant concern. Most of you were also aware that my life consisted of school, sports, and dance, and that I spent an average of three hours a night (four nights a week) at the dance studio, both teaching and taking classes, and doing administrative work (i.e. ordering costumes, writing tuition receipts, etc). So as to not have to continuously re-tell what happened, I am going to post it once, and hopefully that will suffice for most of you, and if not, I will gladly provide further info, but I also don't want any of you to think this is an evocation of sympathy, but I am hoping that you can further understand what has happened in the last week.

On Monday night, I went to the studio, as usual, to teach the beginning level hiphop class, as I always do. I found it odd that the studio was dark and locked, because there are two classes before mine. [I forgot my key that day.] Thinking my teacher was late, and the other classes had maybe been cancelled (can we say naive?) I decided to wait around for a few minutes. Well, the students in my class started showing up....and still no teacher. (the class was supposed to begin at 7pm, and it was going on 7:15 by this time). I tried the director's cell phone three times, but could not even get her voice mail to pick up. That's odd, I thought. Calling her house, I began to worry when I still got no answer nor a voicemail. I apologized to the parents and told them that I didn't know (nor understand) what was going on. We all left, determined to figure this out.

The next day, I told Coach Jones that I couldn't go to the basketball game because I would need to go unlock the studio and teach ALL the classes, just in case the director didn't show up again. I was beginning to wonder if I would need to file a missing person's report, and was very concerned, because the director always took running the studio very seriously and I couldn't imagine that she would let us down like this. I got to the studio a little before five Tuesday night, and already parents were showing up, two of whom had been there the night before. Again, the studio was eerily dark, and of course locked. But AH HA! I had a key! I put the key up to the dead bolt, only to find that it didn't fit--- at all. After fultily spending forty five seconds trying to force the key to fit, I decided I was going crazy and must have the wrong key.... (again, can we say naive?). The parents and I all stood around talking about what in the world could be going on, while the six kids ran around, using up the energy they had conserved for dance class. I tried her cell phone number five more times, and her home number. Still nothing, but I did get a voice mail message on her cell. I left an urgent message, begging her to call me. Suddenly, the lady who works next door came out. "Excuse me," she said politely. "Are y'all here for the dance class?" she asked in her southern drawl. We all nodded, eager yet nervous to hear what she had to say. "Well, um... the landlord came here and changed the locks. We don't know why, but he did. I don't have any other information for you. I'm sorry." As she turned around, we all looked at each other in utter disbelief. Our studio? What's happened? Where's the money? What happens now? What do we tell these five and six year olds? Well, I won't lie, the tears started falling. All the time and energy, sweat, money, devotion I poured into this studio, my studio for the last four years was gone. Gone. I swallowed hard in order to hold it together for the kids, who were now crowding around. Scout, a five-year-old, whose mom is a good friend of ours, came over to me, "Miss Lindsay, does Ms. Ali (the director) have the flu? Is that why she's not here?" I smiled and nodded, "Yeah, Scout, something like that." She told me to tell Ms. Ali that she hoped she felt better, and ran off to play with her friends. The parents and I all exchanged numbers, hoping that one of us would find something out, and this way we could all call each other. As each family drifted away, I was overcome with emptiness, but I couldn't figure out why. You'll find another passion, I told myself. Or you can find another studio. Don't worry. I waited the remaining fifteen minutes until my friends and co-workers (ages 16 and 17) showed up. When they saw the look on my face, they grew concerned. I explained what we knew. They knew nothing more than we did. Hugging, we said our goodbyes, and left. [The Thursday before, the aforementioned friends and I had left the studio, with these final words from Ms. Ali "Have a great weekend. I'll see you on Monday."]

On Thursday, I got a call from the lady who directed the studio last year. She said that Ms. Ali had not paid the rent since July, and that she, Ms. Cathy, had been footing the bill in order that the studio not go up in smoke. "She owes me more than $12, 000," she told me. "You guys aren't going to get refunds, because every dollar you put into dance, be it tuition, costume fees, recital fees, competition fees, whatever, was pocketed by Ms. Ali." WHAT!?!?!? Ok, breathe. I told myself. "I'm sorry that your money's down the drain, Lindsay," she said. I wanted to cry, and tell her it isn't about the money. It never had been. It was about dancing, and loving every second of it. It was about inspiring in my students the same love that I have had for dance since I was three. It was about helping them (and myself) believe in themselves (and myself), enough that they thought their dreams could come true. It was about the adrenaline rush you get when you're at recital or at competitions. It was about the hope that we would make the national-finals this year in the Applause competition. It was about me thinking that my "purpose" in life was dance.....but it wasn't about money. And now, it wasn't about anything. There wasn't anything left.

But I was wrong. There was something left. There were the memories. The memories of throwing our props at each other off-stage and getting yelled at. The memories of turning off all but one of the lights in the studio and doing our lyrical dance ("when you know who you love") in the dark, just for effect. The memories of painting the studio walls and each other at the same time. Subway and Gatorade dinners at 8:00 at night. Driving home with my friends after class and blarring the music from Maria's (the eldest) car, with the windows down. Memories of laughing so hard we couldn't dance, of messing up on stage, of goofing off in class just to peeve the teachers, of traveling all over the state to compete, of sitting in nine square foot dressing rooms for six hours and throwing our clothes at each other during competitions, of hugs after performances, of the time a little girl peed on stage, of curtain calls when the curtains wouldn't close, of the sound system going out in first act of the recital and one of the teachers holding a microphone up to a boombox for the next four hours, of sleeping at each others house and curling each other's hair, of learning to properly apply four colors of eye shadow so they all showed, and of standing on stage at the end, holding hands and bowing while the audience clapped and clapped and cheered. That's what dance was about. That's why four years of hard work was more than worth it. That's why I plan to dance again, just not yet.

Well that was a long long post. Sorry for the length, but I hope this not only explains what happened, but also tells you that you can't look back on something and regret doing it, or look back and resent people or happenings just because it didn't work out. Oh, and something I learned: Bad stuff is NEVER God punishing you. (that's what I thought, but here is what my youth leader said to that: "God never punishes you - sometimes, he allows negative things to happen toyou to test you and your faith in him, like what he let happen to Job, but we have to remember to stand strong in him and know he is in control") There's something to be learned from everything, but I know one thing, I don't want to look back on this in two months and regret putting time and energy into dance, nor do I want to still be angry with Ms. Ali. We all have clay feet. I'm just happy that i got the experience and I have the memories. Remember:

"Live like Heaven is on Earth; love like you've never been hurt; sing like nobody's listening and dance like nobody's watching." (yeah I know it has NOTHING to do with my entire post but I like the saying, so there. hehehe)

PS- If I get brave enough, I might (and the operative word there is might) dance at open mic night.... if this is a terrible idea, please let me know. Definitely don't want to make a fool of myself. ;)

Read this. (yes, I am on my poetry kick....) Enjoy!



Little Things in Life

Author Unknown

Too often we don't realize
what we have until it is gone;
Too often we wait too late to say
"I'm sorry - I was wrong"

Sometimes it seems we hurt the ones
we hold dearest to our hearts;
And we allow foolish things
to tear our lives apart

Far too many times we let
unimportant things into our minds;
And then it's usually too late
to see what made us blind

So be sure that you let people know
how much they mean to you;
Take that time to say the words
before your time is through

Be sure that you appreciate
everything you've got
And be thankful for the little things
in life that mean a lot



Here's another:

LITTLE THINGS
Author Unknown


Little drops of water,
Little grains of sand,
Make the mighty ocean
And the pleasant land.


Thus the little minutes,
Humble though they be,
Make the mighty ages
of eternity.

Right now, though, the majority of my stress level is a result of registration for classes for next year. So far my schedule looks like this:


[7th Period: Science Olympiad]
AP Biology
AP US History
AP English III
Adv. Pre Calculus
Spanish IV
20th Century Topics


The stress comes from wanting to pick classes that will look good on my college application, but also classes that I will enjoy. I would love to take drama, for example, but an A in drama compared to an A in AP Bio on an application looks not as wonderful. So I feel like I should take more "academic" courses instead of taking an elective like drama or art or something. Oh well. I have to go watch a special on Clay now. Later.

Hmmmm. . .what to say? My life is made up of little nothings, all strung together. Well, not really, but there isn't much to talk about. Working hard in school and dance right now, and those are consuming my time. Dance is definitely the better of the two!!! (*grin*)

Right now in dance I am working on quite a few different dances.
The theme for our recital is "A Night On Broadway!" Should be fun. C'mon out and see us! (somewhere in May).


Adv. Jazz ---- Song "Hooray For Love"
Adv. Tap ---- Song (the jazzed up version of) "Fever"
Adv. Hip hop---- a mix of songs, one of which is by Outkast
Int. Clogging ---- the Swedish version of "Cotton Eyed Joe" (yeah, same music, but the words just sound like a jumble of syllables)
Production ---- an 8-minute mix of songs from Chicago, including "Both Reached for the Gun," "All that Jazz," "Mr. Cellaphane," "Cell-Block Tango."
Adv. Lyrical ---- "When You Know Who You Love" (the sweetest song ever!)
Gymnastics/Jazz Duet ---- "I Can't Wait to be King" from The Lion King (the Broadway Kids' version!!!)
My Solo---- song is unknown yet, but I am open to suggestions. I have thought about two songs from A Chorus Line, including "One [Singular Sensation]" and "I Hope I Get It," which is the opening song. I have also looked at doing something from Westside Story, or possibly just a song I find that I like. It would either be Lyrical or Jazz.

I wanted to share a poem with y'all that I came across in eighth grade. It had a profound effect on me, and I hope that you can see why. Enjoy.



Pretty Good
There once was a pretty good student,
Who sat in a pretty good class,
And was taught by a pretty good teacher,
Who always let pretty good pass.

He wasn't terrific at reading,
He wasn't a whiz-bang at math,
But for him education was leading
Straight down a pretty good path.

He didn't find school too exciting,
but he wanted to do pretty well,
And he did have some trouble with writing,
And nobody had taught him to spell.

When doing arithmetic problems,
Pretty good was regarded as fine,
five and five needn't add up to be ten,
A pretty good answer was nine.

The pretty good class that he sat in,
Was part of a pretty good school,
And the student was not an exception,
On the contrary , he was the rule.

The pretty good school that he went to,
Was there in a pretty good town,
And nobody there seemed to notice,
He could not tell a verb from a noun.

The pretty good student in fact was
Part of a pretty good mob,
And the first time he knew what he lacked was,
When he looked for a pretty good job.

It was then when he sought a position,
He discovered that life could be tough,
And he soon had a sneaky suspicion,
Pretty good may not be good enough.

The pretty good town in our story,
Was part of a pretty good state,
Which had pretty good aspirations,
And prayed for a pretty good fate.

There once was a pretty good nation,
Pretty proud of the greatness it had,
Which learned much too late, if you want to be great
Pretty good, is in fact, pretty bad.

I haven't posted in a while, so I will attempt to catch everyone up on the oh-so-thrilling events of my life. First, I will tell you all about the AP Env. Sci UN conference we had in APES. Well, each student was given a role to play (of an actual person) and they had to stay in character while we put on a "population conference". Basically we were supposed to come up with a United Nations Treaty to help control the world's rapid population expansion. It would have been a lot more fun if I had even half-way agreed with my character on any of a number of issues. I had Paul Ehrlich, who believes that the U.S. should put luxury taxes on diapers, cribs, bottles, and all other baby necessities. While I understand where he is coming from (developed nation's populations use about 80% of the world's resources, while the developing nations use the other twenty, even though the population is much higher in developing nations.), I do not believe that this is a reasonable solution. He would like to give cash to any couple who goes five years without having a child (yeah, invasion of privacy. . .), and to any man who voluntarily is sterilized. He would like to FORCE (yes, force) the sterilization of any man in India who has more than three children. And again, while this is understandable in the mindset behind it, I believe that we must first help India to grow economically so that it does not rely on the production of crops to feed its people. That is one reason people in India typically have so many children--- to help farm. The last idea he had was the most unreasonable and radical of all, and it made me want to scream at him. Anyways, he wants to forbid privately funded organizations and government sponosored groups from providing aid and food to famine-stricken countries. Riiiiiggghhhht. We'll just all sit back and let them die of malnutrition while we sit over here gourging on Filet Mignon, garlic mashed potatoes and cheesecake. Them, they don't matter. Yeah, so it was extremely, (extremely, extremely, extremely) hard to debate in favor of ideas you don't agree with on even a marginal level.


Then, Coach Jones informed me that I did not meet the eligibility requirements to run track this spring. Why? Because I was absent from school for 21 days last semester. The thing is, you can only be absent for 12 days in order to be eligible to participate in a sport. Well, you see, if I had been out smoking pot for 11 straight days, and then came back to school and barely sqeaked out a 2.0 GPA, I would be allowed to run track. But when I am sick, running a fever of 103, adn going to the doctor 3 times a week (yes, she stopped charging us, and was so concerned about my condition that she asked that I come in N-C -- no-charge-- at least three times a week so she could continue to run tests), and sleeping 20 out of 24 hours each day, and miss 20 school days as a result, I am not allowed to run track. Hmmmm. . .the bureaucracy is getting the best of us. ;)
It's life. Take the good with the bad, and count your blessings. (2x for each blessing!!!) I got to manage the bball team, and I have a lot of other opportunities ahead. It's not my last year of HS, so I have a plethora of opportunties that lay in waiting, JUST FOR ME!

More later. Time for school. Have a great week everyone. :)

"Beloved, let us love one another. For love is of God and everyone who loves is born of God and knows God. He who does not love does not know God, for God IS love." -1 John 4:7-8

I have realized a very unfortunate thing. I am apt to take for granted the people/things closest to me, who love me the most, and who/which hold the most value of everything in my life. I think often I look to the outside world for support and acceptance (i.e. sports, activities, etc), when, in actuality, the love I need is from family and friends. I think I focus way too much on the tangible aspects of life, when it is the intangible things that give my life's its deepest significance. I realized this after listening to a song by Lonestar. It is called "My Front Porch Looking In."


Oh yeah
Yeah oh yeah

The only ground I ever owned was sticking to my shoes
Now I look at my front porch and this panoramic view
I can sit and watch the fields fill up
With rays of glowing sun
Or watch the moon lay on the fences
Like that's where it was hung
My blessings are in front of me
It's not about the land
I'll never beat the view
From my front porch looking in

There's a carrot top who can barely walk
With a sippy cup of milk
A little blue eyed blonde with shoes on wrong
'Cause she likes to dress herself
And the most beautiful girl holding both of them
And the view I love the most
Is my front porch looking in, yeah

I've traveled here and everywhere
Following my job
I've seen the paintings from the air
Brushed by the hand of God
The mountains and the canyons reach from sea to shining sea
But I can't wait to get back home
To the one he made for me
It's anywhere I'll ever go and everywhere I've been
Nothing takes my breath away
Like my front porch looking in

There's a carrot top who can barely walk
With a sippy cup of milk
A little blue eyed blonde with shoes on wrong
'Cause she likes to dress herself
And the most beautiful girl holding both of them
Yeah the view I love the most
Is my front porch looking in

I see what beautiful is about
When I'm looking in
Not when I'm looking out

There's a carrot top who can barely walk
With a sippy cup of milk
A little blue eyed blonde with shoes on wrong
'Cause she likes to dress herself
And the most beautiful girl holding both of them
Yeah the view I love the most

Oh, the view I love the most
Is my front porch looking in
Yeah
Oh, there's a carrot top who can barely walk
(From my front porch looking in)
A little blue eyed blonde with shoes on wrong, yeah
And the most beautiful girl
(Beautiful girl
From my front porch looking in)
Holding both of them
Oh, yeah


I won't sit and analyze the song for you, because it is fairly self-explanatory, but it truly made me realize that the richest blessings are far too often the ones we don't realize the value of. So, to all of my friends and family, who read this, thank you for loving me and being there for me. :)

Great day today! Lady Phoenix Basketball team went to the Women's UNC v. Clemson game (UNC won--- BOOO! >GO DUKE!). Funny stories, and inside jokes like: "Cherry tomatoes", "nose" and such.

Anyway, right outside the gym, there were slips to enter a contest. Well, Chandler came up with the idea of putting Coach Jones's name into the box as many times as possible. So Rachel B., Rachel M., Chandler and I stood at the table, hogging all the slips, and entering Coach at least fifty times. Of course, Coach had no idea that we were up to this, and we had NO IDEA what we were entering her for. (hehehe!!!) At one point, she came over, and as we covered up what we were writing, she said "Are you guys entering to win tickets or something?" We all nodded. ;) It took forever to fill out all the cards because they wanted TONS of info, like address (how are we supposed to know? We used RCHS's), and her phone number (we used her cell number), and her age (hahaha. . .we made one up.... the UNC people think Coach Jones is 25!!!! ;)....thanks to us!), and her email address (@raleighcharterhs.org, which is a really really looonnng address to write, when you are doing "speed ballots!"). It was fun, though, and well worth it.

So, with about eight minutes left in the first half, they come on the loud speaker, and say "Will Wendy Jones and [insert name of the other winner here] please come down the the sponsor's table now? You have won the drawing." Coach looks completely bewildered. We all know she is thinking (because it's team day, and we all got in free, without tickets or ID of any kind) How did they get my name? and what drawing are they talking about? We just giggle and tell her to hurry up and go over to the table. Well, she does. And finds out that during half time, she has to shoot on the court. She must shoot a layup (which wins her a pizza), and then a free-throw (which wins her a Dicks Sporting Goods $10 gift card), and then a three-pointer (which gets her Chick-fil-A for a year), and then a half court shot (which gets her an American Airlines ticket). She only has, however, thirty seconds to complete all four shots. Well, she is in a dress shirt, and some kind of "non-sneaker" shoes, and goes out there, with us cheering at the top of our lungs, and misses her first layup (which is the thing she is always yelling at us to get "right", so you can bet we won't let her live it down.). In thirty seconds, she misses a layup, makes a layup, misses a free throw, makes a free throw, and misses two three pointers. All in all, she did well, and she won the gift card and the free pizza.

Alright, now I can tell the "icing story." We went to Lauren's house to celebrate her seventeenth birthday. Well, of course there was cake. And Jessi likes icing, so Rachel M. gives Jessi her icing. Now Jessi has a pile of icing sky high on her plate. Of course she doesn't eat it all, and after we have all finished and are sitting around chatting, Jess decides it would be funny to put the icing to use, so to speak. I was talking to someone, and Jess puts icing on Rachel M's face, and then suddenly turns to me and smears it all over my cheek. Thinking she has put water on my cheek (hey, it was cold, and slippery), I use the shoulder part of my shirt to wipe off the "water." Now, not only is there blue icing on my shirt, but there is icing ALL OVER the left side of my face. I go inside to get a napkin, and Coach Jones goes "Lindsay, what have I told you about fighting with inanimate objects? You know they always beat you!" I had to laugh.

It was a really really fun day. Too bad we have to go back to having boring practice tomorrow. hehe. [Don't tell Coach J I said that!!!]