christmas

Hard to imagine that over 2,000 years ago Jesus was born. I mean 2,000 years seems like such a long time. Anyways, in honor of baby Jesus I am doing everything imaginable to be just like him. For instance, I don't plan on showering today and I will be sleeping outside in a hay filled manger tonight. I feel obligated to "God it up" since I ditched church for swim practice sunday, hope I didn't doom my soul in return for 3 hours of pain in the pool. But we all know that Christmas is about presents, so here's what my Christmas was all about.

1. Leatherman, from Jim and Sara- Awesome. I feel like if I were stuck in the woods for a week I could survive just by holding it. Holding it seems to be a problem though with my new bandaid courtesy of one of the saws that is way sharper than it looks. Won't make that mistake again.

2. Superbad, from Mom. Supergood.

3. Planet Earth and Blue Planet from Mike and Julie and Mom and Dad. Maybe it makes me a nerd for asking for documentaries for Christmas, but when I'm the one filming, narrating, or running around catching stuff in them it'll be worth it. Ohh, and if you think it's lame getting Planet Earth for Christmas, come over so I can smack you across the face with it. Just kidding, maybe.

4. Cabela's Big Game Hunter, x-box live, from Mom and Dad. Now I can kill all you punks in Halo and any other game you choose. CBGH is very promising, and while I haven't really had a chance to start a career hunt yet, the quick hunt in which I killed 6 lnyx, 4 elk, and 1 mule deer was exhilerating.

5. Inflatable Moose Head, Jim and Sara. Very lifelike and proportionally inacurate, but loveable. I haven't determined which wall it will go on yet, but it will definately be hung soon. It freaked the dogs out immediatedly and its facial expression is one of uncomfortable bloating.

6. Computer, Santa. New hp, pretty sweet. I got rid of a bunch of shortcuts on the desktop which serve no purpose, and am in the process of 'personalizing' my new bff. The cool thing is that after I installed iTunes I thought I could just transfer my songs on my iPod onto the new computer, but it wasn't meant to be. Instead I found one of five of my brother Jim's cds that he gave to me with all his music on them. On the old computer the format of the cd and that of the computer didn't match up, but now I downloaded all the music from the three cds that I found on my new buddy in about 20 minutes. Over 3 GB of music in 20 minutes. This thing is a haus. I can't wait to play zoo tycoon with this amazingly fast RAM.

8. Boomerang, from Mike and Julie. I throw to kill.

9. r.c. helicopter, Mom. Mom bought 4 helis for dad, mike, jim and myself which was one of the best ideas ever coming right after freedom and above making murder illegal. Anyways, they're small enough to sit on your hand, and they can fly indoors and all that. I'm disheartened and disappointed to say that mine is already broken after a crash landing into the glass candle holder that tore up my foils in the upper rotor pretty badly. However, there was still hope until I super glued a new replacement rotor on backwards. The hope is now gone.

But my christmas spirit certainly is not. After practice tomorrow I head to florida to continue to remeber baby Jesus's birth, just now on the beach. To all my sixteen year old girl readers that scream my name in the hallways and knock people down to hug me, I can't promise updates with pictures of me on the beach, but I'll see what I can do. I still have to practice in the 90 degree pool across the street, and to avoid dodging seniors while sprinting in my speedo I'll have to get there really, really early. Hope you have an awesome christmas, had an awsome channukah, had an awesome eid, had an awsome kwanza, or hope you will have an awesome new years. If you celebrate some other holiday, whatever it is, just don't do anything to crazy. Word.

mr. dent

I took medieval history this year not because I was particularly interested, but because I had heard it was pretty easy. Easy seems to be an understatement. For example, we spend anywhere between 60-90 minutes each day watching a movie, and spending whatever remaining time talking about northville sports, or how ineffective the lions are.

But besides the rambing about every sport besides swimming and the movies from dent's childhood years, mr. dent is the reason I love the class so much. The old man taught one of my brothers 15 years ago, which is ironic since I'm almost positive that he still doesn't know my name. But I understand, he's been around so long he just doens't have any more room up there for names of students. In a way he's like that grandpa that thinks he's socially progressive and in with technology, but in reality he's set in his ways. The other day he was telling us a story about his hometown of Dearborn. He made sure we knew it was 'different' back then. But anyways, he went on to tell a, how do I say, politically incorrect story that he thought was hilarious. Of course we all laughed since we couldn't believe that he just said that. It's refreshing to have an oldschool "I don't give a shit, they couldn't fire me if I killed a kid" teacher once in a while. Another example of Mr. Dent's b.a.ness I noticed at the northville-canton basketball game last night. He arrived about at the start of the second quarter, and was wearing a varsity jacket. How cool is that. Sixty year old Mr. Dent wearing a varsity jacket. Awesome. It didn't have a letter or anything, but it was a jacket none the less. What's cooler yet is that he sat in the student section. Double awesome.

Mr. Dent, I don't think you know how to use the internet, but if you do and read this, keep on keeping on. You're the man Mr. Dent, and everybody at school knows it. And in case you were wondering, we crushed Canton last night without the skills of my boy EMaise, so we all know what would have happened if EMaise got in for too long. Massacre. Canton sucks. Word.

snow day

Let me begin this epic post by saying that snowdays are like Moses leading the Israelites out of Egypt in that both are awesome. So will my story be written in the Bible? Probably not, but it will be written on an online journal, often referred to as the Blog.

The good news came at about 10:40 that school was cancelled. I had been asleep in preparation for morning practice a solid 2 1/2 hours. Looking back, the buzzing that woke me at 10:15 was actually my phone from Stephanie's text saying school was cancelled tomorrow, but in the confusion that is sleep walking, I just looked at my clock for a minute and seeing as how it wasn't time to get up yet, I went back to bed. But when Mom came in at 10:40, I saw no sense in sleeping my snowday eve away. I went into the kitchen and ironically sat down just in time to see the conclusion of the LOTR trilogy. At 5:40 that night at dinner we witnessed the ents going crazy on Isengard, and now to see Frodo and Gandalf leaving for the new world almost made me cry. I slept well that night.

After a bit of Christmas shopping and much ass-sitting, I decided due to self fueled obligation to do something on my day off, and I don't mean beating the last level of Ace Combat 5 (which is taking me way too long). I decided to go for a walk in the woods, what turned out to be a good decision. First things first, get my boots. These are bad ass work boots, not little bitchy boots like I'm sure most of my friends have. These boots have almost as many stories as I do, but since they are not living, are unable to tell them. Speaking of bitches, Jackie and Rocky elected not to come with me, citing 'snow' as their main problem. But alright, time to get to business. Upon entering the Forbidden Forest, I noticed one set of deer tracks and decided to follow them.
Before long I was deep into the woods of mystery, putting my life on the line. A twisted ankle out here, while my cell phone would work, would still be a bitch. I marched in the snow farther and farther, following my trail until I came to the 'four corners' of the woods. The middle of nowhere only important because it's the intersection of multiple paths. Deer paths.
I chose what seemed to be the freshest one judging by the depth and definition of the tracks. Choosing the one that seemed best, I followed it for about 20 minutes as it meandered throughout the trees and bushes. At one point I thought for sure the tracks were those of a juvenile sasquatch, but upon further inspection decided it was simply the deer running instead of walking. 'Tis elementary. I knew where I was headed the whole time, but wanted to find the deer leading me one this chase. I wasn't surprised when I ended up in Fox Hollow, but a bit disappointed. Disappointed until I followed the tracks a little further to find where these deer spent the night. Three deer beds were wedged among some fallen trees. Satisfied and impressed with myself, I continued on in a lighter mood. Lighter until I met the White River!Similar to the Mississippi, this river, no never mind. I jumped over it in my boots and the chase was on. But keep in mind that a small river leads to a bigger water, and bigger water leads to ducks. Lots and lots of ducks, and geese too. Mallards, Wood Ducks, Geese, and hundreds of them. More than I could count. Before I could get close enough to even know they were there, the collective wing beats of waves of leaving ducks startled me. Believe me, I'm never surprised in the woods. Ever. In fact I was so surprised that I didn't even think to switch to movie mode to record the true fear and danger associated with ducks. I did manage to get a picture of a very small amount of the geese that flew over me. Brilliant. After the birds left, I noticed something moving under the surface of the water in the now placid water. Then it surfaced, a muskrat. He looked pissed, and I would be too if all these ducks just messed up my backyard.

(He's in the middle right above that snowy stick)

After a bit of waiting for the ducks to come back, I decided to continue following the path that was leading me back home. I saw a bunch more pee, and few more beds, and alot more deer shit. Lots. I tested how fresh the pee was with a method I choose not to explain, but it wasn't that fresh, so it didn't matter. I came back in through the garage, took of my boots, and took of my pants. Do my legs have frostbite? Possibly. Are there burrs on my jacket? Yes. Was it a good trip? Definitely. Word.

man, it's cold out

Strange thing happened during studying for my stupid european history test this afternoon. I walked to the door to let Rocky out so he could whiz in the snow and saw him immediately go onto the balcony. "Ohh man, yellow snow on the patio, Dad's gonna be pissed". But wait, he wasn't taking a pee or pooing, instead he was pointing, watching something. Upon closer inspection, I saw the mouse he was looking at, running in a tight circle in the snow. "Rocky, come on inside". I grabbed my camera, flip flops, and pulled my hood up. I expected him to run away when he saw me come at him, but I was pleasantly suprised. There it was, a mouse running in circles around my feet, as if I wasn't even there. After trying to get a few pictures of my new friend, I began to feel sorry for him. After all, it is 20 degrees out with a harsh windchill and seven inches of fresh snow. Shivering on the balcony, the mouse was just looking for somewhere to hide from the weather. Idea.

I ran down to the basement and found one of my old aquariums, about a 10 gallon. Then I went into the garage and grabbed an old buttterfly net. Upon walking throught the kitchen in snowy flip flops with my box in one hand and the net in the other, she said something like, "Don't get bit. Dinner'll be ready soon". I left the relative safety of the kitchen and ventured into the unknown. I set down my glass cube of captivity and grabbed the net with both hands. Precision is key, one mis-timed swipe could crush him. One missed time swipe could also result in rabies. I hear having rabies is a bummer. Slowly, like a lynx, I approached my prey. Though I wasn't planning on eating him, I stalked with extreme determination. All of the sudden he spotted me, and ran. "Why is he running, I thought we were friends?". I took a giant step towards him and lunged with the net. He barely escaped, and in a James Bondesqe, no, more like a Bonnie and Clydeesqe attempt, he jumped off the balcony. He fell in slow motion, I saw the whole thing. Like a cute and furry little bomb dropping on some poor Iraqi's house, he fell into the five inches of snow on top of the bushes below. With a distinct "whooom" noise, he dissapeared into the abyss that is the row of yews never to be heard from again. One muffled vibration in the snow and he was gone.

Frustrated and disheartened at what could have been, I trudged back into the kitchen. I could tell Mom was satisfied at seeing my empty aquarium. Ohh well. I hope I see him again, and I hope he doesn't bitch out and jump off a balcony the next time. Word.

recap

Once again, in case you haven't heard or didn't care to ask, Northville beat Brother Rice on Thursday, quite badly. But I haven't really had time to really dive deeply into the pool that is the Brother Rice ass kicking, so here we go.

When Harry Master and I pulled into the parking lot at 5:20, we figured we would probably be some of the first people there to set up for the meet at 7:00; Getting chairs, touchpads, and a general deck cleanup. But wait, what's the bus in the over there? The whole BroRice team was in the bus in the back of the parking lot just waiting, for what I don't know. Ohh wait, I know. They were waiting for the home team to show up.

So after that confusing start, we got the deck all cleaned up and ready to go. After that we warmed up, which was thoroughly average, as warm up usually is. I was pretty nervous, because after all it's not every day you're swimming four events in a meet and expected to win or come in second in all those events. But let me tell you, after a good Rich locker room talk, I was ready to go. Something to the more polite extent of, "They're state champs but you better not be scared of them". Let's tear this shit up.

The meet started, and as usual with big meets, the pool was packed. The first event was the 200 Medley Relay. I swam the free and when it was time for me to dive in we were about a second back. To be totally honest, the kid swimming me kicked my ass even though I went a 23.4, but it doens't matter how bad you kick my ass if my team takes 2-3-4. Then came the fidy, where I did not too bad. Well, actually kinda bad. I took 4th and went a 24.3. Whatever. The rest of the meet went okay, and I tore up my fly and the 200 Free relay. Toward the end, with the help of our divers, the feeling was that, "wow, we are kicking their ass". That feeling stayed the rest of the night, and was reinforced when I heard Rich say to b.o.b.,"Just nobody fall in the pool". That was the best thing I heard all night.

After we metaphorically plucked the feathers off the chief's headdresses, we went out to Branns. It was already 9:30, but I don't give a shit. I'm hungry and just won the biggest meet of my life. So the thirty of us went into our back room that we know so well and sat down to some of those trivia cards. Who knew that Iceland had the most tractors per capita? I did, because I know everything. Just kidding, I guessed Russia. But there was a sense of hesitation among the upperclassmen. Something was missing. Yeast rolls. I was the first to spot the waitress bringing them out, and played it cool until she walked right by, at which time I lunged across the table and grabbed a basket of her tray. With the other hand I grabbed the cinnamon butter and miraculously pulled out my steak knife to keep the other punks my shit. The freshman need to learn that yeast rolls are a privelage for upperclassmen because they are so good. There simply aren't enough for them to have any when I have three, and there is no way I am going to sacrafice my yeast rolls. Ever. After my 1 lb. bacon cheddar burger, it was time to go home. I gave our waitress "Gooch" (not joking, her name was actually gooch) a tip and left. I got home at 11:20 or something like that, but I don't care. We beat BroRice, bad.

Today was our relay meet, which is pretty much not important at all. In fact, Rich uses it as a way to humble us in front of the rest of the league by putting together relays that are good, but not nearly as good as we can make. We lost in every relay except for one to Stevenson. Point taken Rich, our B relays aren't quite as good as Stevenson's A relays. Anyways, the good thing is that there are medals for the meet. I got a couple silvers today for the 400 Medley and the 200 Backstroke relays. All a good day's work. In case you were wondering, my 100 free split was a 52.9. Not too bad, but not great. Now we have about 36 hours off until more swimming, I plan to enjoy every one of them, starting with the pizza in the oven. Word.

we won.



Thanks to all my friends who convieniently had a choir concert but still stopped by to check out the beat down, especially Chad Black in the tux. Also a heads up to P. Keady for coming by. Mike, way to come support you bro, and to all my teachers that may or may not have been there, thanks. Things are good, hope you feel the same way. Word.

swimming update number 3

Tomorrow is one of the most important days of the whole season, if you didn't know. In fact, it could very well be the most important. Brother Rice at home, 7:00. Number 1 Brother Rice at unranked-but-still-better-than-almost-everybody Northville. Actually, if we pull our shit together and swim our asses off like we know we can, we will be we-can-beat-anybody Northville. That's the goal.

But tommorow is quite a big deal for me too. A huge deal. Why, you ask? For three reasons, as I am swimming in three events.

Let me ask you, have you ever been on a relay with three all americans? Because after tommorow I'll say that I have. And have you ever anchored that A relay against a top rated team in the most anticipated meet of the season? Because after tommorow I'll say that I have.

50 freestyle, two lengths as fast as you can go. Once again, lane 3, the A lane. You know why the 50 is a hard event? Because it's only two lengths. But doesn't that make it easier? No, because you only have 23, hopefully 22 seconds, to get back to that wall. If you screw up on one thing; your dive, your turn, you stroke, your breathing- you're finished.

Hundo fly, the thing nobody wants to swim, because it sucks. I've never been so exhausted after a race than I was after the 100 fly at league meet last year. Shoulders, chest, abs, legs; they all hurt.

But there's nothing better than swimming as fast, as hard as you can go and then looking at the scoreboard, hearing the crowd, and knowing that you somehow pulled it out and won your race. There's also nothing worse than knowing you blew it. Do I hope Brother Rice sucks tomorrow? No, that's not our style, I hope they swim great. I just hope we swim greater. And if we swim greater, I hope there's no wait at Brann's. Word.

karma is a bitch

The one post my mom chooses to read happened to be the one about throw pillows, I think my aunt may have tipped her off to the objectionable content. I am not in China and hence have the freedom to say what I want about the officials of the house (my house), but revenge is swift. Mom just laughed after asking me if I had been upstairs yet, and this is what I found.

In case you can't tell, there are ten pillows on my bed. I will now proceed to choke myself with one of them.

By the way, I felt an urge to update even though I have absolutely no time to do so. I have just finished my MTL logs, which turned out more like baobob, no, perhaps kapok trees than actual logs, but that's beside the point. The fact is that I now have no time to study for chemistry. At least science is the field I want to go into, so it won't matter that I didn't study for it....ohhh wait, that makes no sense at all; but niether does school. Equilibrium in perfect harmony. Word.


Ohhh, and I found my camera. Odd thing, it was right where I left it. Welcome back my little black sony, I have missed you.

throw (off my damn bed) pillows

I just don't understand throw pillows. It's that simple. Throw pillows are like eating the old 96er, totally superfluous and disgusting. I mean they aren't even true pillows: you can't use them. God forbid that I should fall asleep and drool on one of Mom's pillows. I guess they're pretty expensive. But they look so comfortable and inviting; big and soft, and often placed in the most tempting places. The forbidden fruit of interior design.

So after I come home from morning practice, school, afternoon practice, and then after completing my homework that's due the next day, I only want to crawl into my much loved flannel sheets. But wait, I have to get the 4 pillows that I can't use off my bed first. Four (4) pillows that I can't use but still stay on my bed. I should start charging them rent. The part that really gets me is that Louis, one non human member of the family, is totally exempt from the 'no relaxing on the throw' rule. I can't tell you how many times I have climbed the stairs to my room looking forward to the warmth of my room and the softness of my sheets only to find a sleeping, and then angry, cat on the pillows. Have you ever tried to move a sleeping, fully clawed killer cat to which you are allergic? That's what I thought. Throw pillows are dumb. Word.

ahhh, the hallways

I had an insane chemistry lab today which included magnesium burning, copper chlorate getting in your eye, and doing some other crazy shit. Needless to say, I was exhausted after this exhilerating lab and the balancing of equations that followed, so I took a bathroom break. I left the room at 2:02, school ends at 2:16; I had a solid ten minutes of 'wander time'. Apparently I wan't the only one thinking of taking some well earned chillax time. As soon as I left the room I saw Andy and Bert patrolling the East Wing. "Bert, don't you have euro?" "Ya, I'm looking for my book". Ahh, I've used that one many times, always works. So I walked with them down the hall until I figured I should head back. "Ohh, whats up Summers?" as Dave came walking the opposite direction. "Not too much, just taking a break". "Aren't you and Bert in the same class?". "Ya, I told her I was looking for my book". Brilliant, absolutely brilliant. So after again spending some time with Dave, I decided to actually go back to class. But wait, here comes Jelso. "Jelso, whats goin on, buddy?" "Not to much, just hating Vala" "So I've heard, how long have you been gone?" "I don't know, she gave us a free day, so this is my third break this hour" "ahh, I understand". "Ohh shit, Joyce". Jelso and I ran back to class, Joyce's hall monitor walkie-talkie made one of those walkie talkie noises, and we could tell she was getting closer. ETA, 20 seconds. Passes=O. Time to roll out. Word.

carjacking

Last night, saturday, I was at a swim team party at Inchaus's house. Hanging around in the basement we were playing Halo, watching Knocked Up, and eating lots and lots of tostitos. All was well until we were informed that 5 cars had been tp'd. "Are you serious, there's a winter storm warning and someone hit our cars?". "Shit".

Aquinto, Inchaus, Jurr, Shepp, and I ran upstairs, put on our Delta Force Winter clothing (jackets and shoes) and went outside to checkout the damage. In the foreboding twilight it didn't seem too bad, that was until I got closer. "Dear God, this is pathetic". I saw that there was silly string on my windows, toilet paper all over, and a "It's a girl" balloon tied to my bike rack. "What the hell? It's a girl?" After just watching Knocked Up I was a little confused, but pissed none the less. On closer inspection A.J. noticed something red on my windshield. "What the hell?" "Ohh my God, no way, shit, no, what?". Greg nearly threw up and Jurr ran away. I'll give you a hint, the red things on my windsheild started with T and ends in -ampons. Now listen, I'm all for a good tp job, but that is a biohazard, especially when you have no idea who did any of this.

The pathetic thing is is that in addition to Jurr's, Chaus's, Gregg's, Nick's, and my car, the perps actually hit up one of Nick's neighbor's cars that was in the wrong spot at the wrong time. We left it alone. I scraped all the shit of my car and drove home with the Harry Master. Karma's a bitch. Word.

swimming update number 2

This is a quickie (haha).

I'm not sure how many of you have actually been on a pool deck, but it smells like pool. By pool I mean chlorine. From what Mrs. Ooms has told me, chlorine is a poisonous gas. Now it's not straight up chlorine but what's in the pool will still mess you up, as we all found out this last week. Apparently the fans that are supposed to filter in some fresher air from other parts of the school are simply turned off, leaving swimmers gasping for breath and coughing alot.

Coughing so much in fact that last night at about 11:00 as I played Ace Combat 6, I took a deep breath after evading a SAM which caused me to start coughing so hard I literally almost fell out of my chair and I thought that my chest may actually explode. Asbestos has got nothing on chlorine. Word.