No, seriously. Dude, this thing makes L's looks weird! Oh, never mind. Twas my mouse. Anyways.
Well, my best friend is James William Sowell. He'd like for me to call him jFreakwency. Too bad. :)
Our friendship is a strange one. We first met each other through church, waaaaay back when he was at CLC (Crappy Little Crapheads). And, at first glance, he did look like a Crappy Little Craphead - he wore khaki pants and a white collar shirt (the school uniform), and he always had a look on his face that made him look RATHER unintelligent. Little did I know that this particular face was normal. Who knew. Anyways, after hearing an AMAZING rumor that he had in fact attempted murder in the 18th degree and had attempted to join Satan's Army, I'll admit I kept my distance. We never really talked until the summer going into 8th grade. We went to Carrowinds with our youth group, and we got along really well. BUT, after going back to school, I realized that my friendship was short lived - we hung out with very different people. So different, in fact, that we each hired assassins to kill each other. Wait, what?
Fast forward to the next summer, and you'll see that me and him became inseparable the entire time. We literally hung out at least once a week, and usually more. We went to a movie every Tuesday at the Hartsville theater (or did something else worthy of my awesome), and pretty much hung out with each other the ENTIRE time. Couldn't get rid of that little bum. Anyways. This font is hurting my eyes. Anywho... So, then we went back to school... And it happened again. Surprise, surprise, we went back to hanging out with completely different people, except I hung out with people of decent intelligence this year. (Let's go ahead and straighten this one out. Will hangs out with the popular kids that are either really smart, or really stupid. No middle ground. I hang out with the UNpopular kids that are really smart, very few stupid. Now, if Will was telling this story, I'm sure he'd say that ALL of his friends were HIGHLY intelligent, and that I just didn't know them. Suck it up Will :). He would also say that me and these other people would be really good friends if I just acted like myself around them. Strange, they don't usually like fat people :P) Where was I? Oh yeah. So, another school year gone by, and me and Will didn't hang out but like five times, total.
This summer! Well, this past summer was a lot of fun... Just not as much so as last summer. We hung out usually at least once a week, but it just wasn't as fun. Sad day. You, reading this. Kill yourself ._.
Well, Will told me to make this about our antics, because antics is a word people from this century use.
Well, let's see.
I cannot divulge our secrets. Or, well, I could, but at the risk of sounding cliche, I would have to kill you. Sorry. No I'm not.
Oh, and Will is on crack.
I prefer heroine. ._.
The Gift
Everyone has a gift. I do, you do, even the hobo on the street corner. So do you search to find yours, have you found it, or did the hobo pee on it? While that may be the underlying pretense for this blog, I won't be talking about it as much as I may other subjects, most of them being whatever it is I'm doing.
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Incase I die tonight...
Here are some confessions of mine... Just wanted to get all of this off my chest...
I shot the sheriff, but I didn't shoot the deputy.
I let the dogs out.
I found Waldo, Nemo, AND Carmen Sandiago
I cut Justin Bieber's hair
I CAN touch this
I CAN believe it's not butter
I personally believe bell bottom pants will make a comeback
I created a fake moon landing video in 1969
I created Windows 7
I made the crop circles with the alien's help
I wore the bigfoot costume in Buff Creek, California
I didn't catch a grenade for ya
I am afraid
I didn't taste the rainbow
I say never on a daily basis
I blame it on the alcohol
I did mess with Jim
I'm not actually workin on a farm
Your love isn't actually my drug. Heroin is.
I'm not actually my own grandpa.
I don't want to blow up china.
I strive to not be who i r
I'm under the impression that i wasn't born this way
Red Bull never game me wings
I do not run on Dunkin
I once didn't say "Yum" when someone said Red Robin
But... it's okay yall....
I didn't help write Friday.
I shot the sheriff, but I didn't shoot the deputy.
I let the dogs out.
I found Waldo, Nemo, AND Carmen Sandiago
I cut Justin Bieber's hair
I CAN touch this
I CAN believe it's not butter
I personally believe bell bottom pants will make a comeback
I created a fake moon landing video in 1969
I created Windows 7
I made the crop circles with the alien's help
I wore the bigfoot costume in Buff Creek, California
I didn't catch a grenade for ya
I am afraid
I didn't taste the rainbow
I say never on a daily basis
I blame it on the alcohol
I did mess with Jim
I'm not actually workin on a farm
Your love isn't actually my drug. Heroin is.
I'm not actually my own grandpa.
I don't want to blow up china.
I strive to not be who i r
I'm under the impression that i wasn't born this way
Red Bull never game me wings
I do not run on Dunkin
I once didn't say "Yum" when someone said Red Robin
But... it's okay yall....
I didn't help write Friday.
Friday, June 3, 2011
I have no idea what to title this,
Nor do I have an idea as to what to talk about. I don't have something to be random about. I'm so lost! Help meh! D:
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Infomercials
Oddly deceptive.
Very intriguing.
Evil.
Those are a few words of the top of my head that I could use to describe infomercials. My family knows that about this time last year, with me not in school, and having the luxury to stay up until 5am, I watch a lot of infomercials. I also get sucked in by them. P90X is a good example. I must have watched that infomercial like 50 times! So when I finally coaxed my parents into forking up all of that money for it... I did it, what? Three times? Yeah. Thrice. And, boy, did those times feel good. I LOVE the way working out feels... About thirty minutes after I've done it. During it, however, I hate it. Absolutely hate it. But the point is, infomercials to me are like KFC potato bowls to a fat person - I can't stay away. I actually just watched an infomercial on another Beach Body product called Insanity. I practically had the phone in hand before I realized what that I was making another mistake. That they were just luring in me in for another round of failure. There's only so many times a fat kid can watch an infomercial about people getting ripped, no equipment, no anything, just you and the DVD before he'll cave. It's quite the nuisance. So what am I going to do? Save up my pennies and call in to buy it? Then what? I get it in a few days, do it once or twice, then quit? After spending 120$ on that? No thanks you. So, do I do P90X and just deal with the lack of a pull up bar, and take 90 days to get to my goals? Do I con my parents into buying ANOTHER workout DVD system? Do I decide to just make a 500 calorie deficit a day, then walk for an hour a day, thus making my calorie deficit of the week about 3500-7000 (not sure on how many calories are burned from an hour walking), or 2-4 lb. every two weeks? Or.. Do I take the easy path and do none of the above? I'm on my way to being a in sophomore high school, and I'm pretty sick of not being in shape the way I know I could be. I promised I'd do P90X for a simple reason - I thought I would. I thought I could. I wouldn't have said so otherwise. It's kind of a hard decision.
IDK. I guess leave your thoughts below? I dunno. Do what you feel is necessary in order for your selfish desire to be needed is fulfilled.
Very intriguing.
Evil.
Those are a few words of the top of my head that I could use to describe infomercials. My family knows that about this time last year, with me not in school, and having the luxury to stay up until 5am, I watch a lot of infomercials. I also get sucked in by them. P90X is a good example. I must have watched that infomercial like 50 times! So when I finally coaxed my parents into forking up all of that money for it... I did it, what? Three times? Yeah. Thrice. And, boy, did those times feel good. I LOVE the way working out feels... About thirty minutes after I've done it. During it, however, I hate it. Absolutely hate it. But the point is, infomercials to me are like KFC potato bowls to a fat person - I can't stay away. I actually just watched an infomercial on another Beach Body product called Insanity. I practically had the phone in hand before I realized what that I was making another mistake. That they were just luring in me in for another round of failure. There's only so many times a fat kid can watch an infomercial about people getting ripped, no equipment, no anything, just you and the DVD before he'll cave. It's quite the nuisance. So what am I going to do? Save up my pennies and call in to buy it? Then what? I get it in a few days, do it once or twice, then quit? After spending 120$ on that? No thanks you. So, do I do P90X and just deal with the lack of a pull up bar, and take 90 days to get to my goals? Do I con my parents into buying ANOTHER workout DVD system? Do I decide to just make a 500 calorie deficit a day, then walk for an hour a day, thus making my calorie deficit of the week about 3500-7000 (not sure on how many calories are burned from an hour walking), or 2-4 lb. every two weeks? Or.. Do I take the easy path and do none of the above? I'm on my way to being a in sophomore high school, and I'm pretty sick of not being in shape the way I know I could be. I promised I'd do P90X for a simple reason - I thought I would. I thought I could. I wouldn't have said so otherwise. It's kind of a hard decision.
IDK. I guess leave your thoughts below? I dunno. Do what you feel is necessary in order for your selfish desire to be needed is fulfilled.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
UpperState Essay
So, marching band pretty much rules my life during October, and music in general takes its place after that. I talk about marching band a lot, as in... A LOT. But no one ever seems to get it. To undersand why it is I'm so obsessed... Here's a good reason.
The feeling will hit you like a brick. One minute, you’re just fine, then the next, you’ve been hit. Snap, crackle, pop and your stomach will be tied in a knot so tight it becomes hard to sit. Being nervous is the worst thing that can happen to a performer, and we all had a serious case of it. We’re riding the bus to upper state was very… remarkable. We’re all hot, we are all sick of that purple carpet, and each of is about to puke in anxiety. Yet we all are having an amazing time, some of the best we’ll ever have. Each person beside me is like family to me, and I can’t think of anyone greater to be that nervous around. All of my friends are so worried, except for a few, so even though I feel the same (if not worse because I’m a freshman), I’m still trying to make everyone feel good about themselves by telling jokes. It really seems like the only people not to stressed to talk are Sidney and I. But even me and him feel like little girls on the inside, because we’re going to upper state, and it’s going to be the most important day of the season.
We’re pulling in, and the anxiety is only increasing. We all look up at Byrns High School’s scoreboard, and we can nearly feel each other’s throats clog up – each of our names, along with “NORTH CENTRAL MARCHING KNIGHTS”, is displayed on the fifty foot screen. I nearly puke as my name is shown, along with the words saxophone, trumpet, and freshman. Warming up is different this time, because as opposed to me trying to keep Kayla or Bekah from having some sort of nervous breakdown, I feel on the verge myself. So we just warmed up in as much silence as you can have whilst warming up twenty-three instruments. Other bands seem to have no such restrictions, it seems, because Edisto High is playing very loudly, and very obnoxiously. Even though the particular part they were playing sounded great, it still loosened me up to some extent, because I knew that by playing that loud, that much, their lips were going to be torn up when it came to be their turn. I still feel like digging a hole and dying there, however. The march to the field is by far the most stressful part of the day, and we are doing that now. At every competition, every single one of them, this is the time where we all feel like running in the other direction. Normally, we’d be waiting for another band to be done and walking off the field before we cadence on, but today is different. Today, we are the first band to perform, and that only adds fuel to the flame. Being first means a lot of things. We’re the first band to perform, so that means that generally speaking, few people will be in the stands, we’ll be ranked lower because we are the standard, and being first just plain blows. We’re marching onto the field, all perfectly in synch, and the nervousness is subdued. This isn’t something to be nervous about. We’ve done this before. This is nothing… Just another football game… Nothing to be nervous about at all… Then we see the crowd. Mr. Rooker had told us that, as the first band, maybe twenty people would be there. No, there was over one hundred, and we are the first band to perform. None of are prepared for something like that. That stadium side is at least one hundred rows high and there are five sections. We all try to slip into routine, and we get into formation after we’re called to break. We’re all with our Ross Roy instrumentation; we’re all straight-backed, looking at the enormous crowd, we give a mighty “Knights!” and our show begins. The show is going well, for the most part. Everyone is messing up, but that is nothing new. A blip or a bop here and there and we’re doing fine. We finish Into the Storm as strong as ever, and we go into To Challenge the Skies and Heavens Above, our third piece of music. Challenge starts off bad, with Sidney messing up his solo. We all march to the music, and at that part of the show, we march to Sidney. Luckily, we all had practiced enough times to have muscle memory guide us. Then, Anna’s oboe solo begins, and with my omniscient, I know everyone here well enough to know this, I feel everyone cringe at the sound. But, as stated before, muscle memory takes over and our ninja flags are thrown aside. We’ve finished the show strong for the crowd. But we finished the show, on the most important night all season, depressed for us.
We’ve stopped playing; the crowd is roaring; the announcer is shouting, “What talent!” But each of us is to busy either being depressed or in a state of shock to really notice. We had all just royally screwed up, and each and every one of us knew it. Normally, we’d be marching off the field to Dylan’s cadence with our heads held high, feeling on top of the world. Today has been different. Today, we’re all marching off the field with our heads bent, thinking, in unison, the same thing. Was it worth it? Was all of our time and effort worth it? Every reply is, No. No it wasn’t. All year, we had practiced, struggled, and sold our souls to the devil for this. We had cried, bled and even hyperventilated for this one moment, for this one chance to go to State. No one smiled. No one laughed. I alone spoke as I told Anna that it would be okay. But, we all felt, no, it wouldn’t be okay, because the real test was only just beginning for us. We had already performed, but this, this waiting and watching… This is going to be the hard part.
We march back over to the “dressing room”, and I hug Anna one more time before I leave her with Dylan, her boyfriend. We are the physical embodiment of depressed as we stood there, getting out of our uniforms. Normally, we’d be comparing how we did with one another, but none of us felt like talking. All of the seniors stayed in uniform, so I’m with Sidney, who really didn’t feel up to talking, and my fellow freshman, Jordan, Zack, Daishaun, and James. None of us feel like comparing anything, so we dress back into football attire in silence. We walk out of the dressing area, and wait for the girls to finish. Standing there, shivering, I start thinking about how I did, and I figure myself on par with about the Hartsville competition – which was three weeks ago from today. That wasn’t a good feeling, so I just sigh and sit down, and everyone follows suit. All of the seniors are standing with Mr. Rooker, probably talking about the performance. Eventually, the girls get done, and we walk to the stadium. When we were on the field, the stands looked really big, but it was nothing compared to having to walk up them. They are massive. By the time I reach my parents, I’m already winded. When I get there, they then laugh and move down to where the other band parents are, and I’m left like, gasping for air. Then they make me go and get them all drinks. At this point, I just want to curl up in a ball, but hey, they’re my parents. After I do that, I go and sit with my senior friends as we eat our fries. All of realize after about five to ten minutes of that, that it wasn’t our smartest idea. The exact opposite of what had happened that morning was happening to us now. Instead of being super hot, we are now super cold. As opposed to not being able to talk, none of us can shut up. The nervousness, however, remains unchanged and unaltered. And, none of us can sit for very long, because the knot in our stomach was reached its climax, and we all soon go and look at all of the booths set up with the band merchandise. I buy a shirt and try to sit down again, and this time I have to wait, because the fourth band is performing. They didn’t sound too great, but after the performance we gave, anything was possible. Eventually, every band has stopped playing. To get into State, we have to be in the top six, and there are seven bands here. Awards would be coming up after Ninety-Six High School performed, so we are all sitting together except for the seniors, because they would be going out onto the field. Ninety-Six marched off of the field and over to the in-zone, because they are such a big band. The announced calls out our name, and each of us cheers as our seniors and Mr. Rooker walk onto our spot on the field. When every band is in their allotted spot, we get to down to business. We all tense up as he says the first band name, the name of the band that wouldn’t be making it. Our shoulders bunched together as tight as possible, we all nearly pass out as he calls, “Great Falls, with a score of…” We all resist the urge to cheer just yet, but as he calls out our name (albeit in 6th, the lowest ranking score, but at least we placed), we all break free of our trance and start up our good ole chant of , “What time is it?” “KNIGHT TIME!”
I couldn’t tell you a single other bands score, ranking, or however much they cheered, because my elated feelings kept me going on a high unknown by me for the past few years. All I remember is as soon as we were allowed, we all ran to meet the seniors and Mr. Rooker on the field and celebrate. We all raced back to the bus and did a real Knight Time chant before we went and got onto the bus, all of us so elated we didn’t know what to do with ourselves. We go to McDonalds to get ice cream and celebrate. The bus ride back home started off really normal. We just talked for a while as each of us fell asleep one by one, until it was just Anna, me, and a few other people left. Dylan had fallen asleep, and was half awake, half asleep. He keeps mumbling things at Anna, and me and her have a lot of fun making fun of him. Eventually, Anna tries to put his legs on hers, so he would be more comfortable, and Dylan falls down in between the seats. He blurts out, “I feel like a llama that doesn’t know how to swim!” And everyone awake on the bus nearly dies laughing, because he honestly doesn’t remember anything. We get back to the school and put the trophy on the podium, and I take a picture of it on my phone. Then I went home and fell asleep, and ended one of the best days of my life.
Deny me your even slight intrest in band now. Not one of you could possibly say you wouldn't want to, and still be in your right mind. Lol....
I'm not sure how that is going to look on blogger, but it's all gramatically okay on Word...
Dude... I'm addicted to heroin.
The feeling will hit you like a brick. One minute, you’re just fine, then the next, you’ve been hit. Snap, crackle, pop and your stomach will be tied in a knot so tight it becomes hard to sit. Being nervous is the worst thing that can happen to a performer, and we all had a serious case of it. We’re riding the bus to upper state was very… remarkable. We’re all hot, we are all sick of that purple carpet, and each of is about to puke in anxiety. Yet we all are having an amazing time, some of the best we’ll ever have. Each person beside me is like family to me, and I can’t think of anyone greater to be that nervous around. All of my friends are so worried, except for a few, so even though I feel the same (if not worse because I’m a freshman), I’m still trying to make everyone feel good about themselves by telling jokes. It really seems like the only people not to stressed to talk are Sidney and I. But even me and him feel like little girls on the inside, because we’re going to upper state, and it’s going to be the most important day of the season.
We’re pulling in, and the anxiety is only increasing. We all look up at Byrns High School’s scoreboard, and we can nearly feel each other’s throats clog up – each of our names, along with “NORTH CENTRAL MARCHING KNIGHTS”, is displayed on the fifty foot screen. I nearly puke as my name is shown, along with the words saxophone, trumpet, and freshman. Warming up is different this time, because as opposed to me trying to keep Kayla or Bekah from having some sort of nervous breakdown, I feel on the verge myself. So we just warmed up in as much silence as you can have whilst warming up twenty-three instruments. Other bands seem to have no such restrictions, it seems, because Edisto High is playing very loudly, and very obnoxiously. Even though the particular part they were playing sounded great, it still loosened me up to some extent, because I knew that by playing that loud, that much, their lips were going to be torn up when it came to be their turn. I still feel like digging a hole and dying there, however. The march to the field is by far the most stressful part of the day, and we are doing that now. At every competition, every single one of them, this is the time where we all feel like running in the other direction. Normally, we’d be waiting for another band to be done and walking off the field before we cadence on, but today is different. Today, we are the first band to perform, and that only adds fuel to the flame. Being first means a lot of things. We’re the first band to perform, so that means that generally speaking, few people will be in the stands, we’ll be ranked lower because we are the standard, and being first just plain blows. We’re marching onto the field, all perfectly in synch, and the nervousness is subdued. This isn’t something to be nervous about. We’ve done this before. This is nothing… Just another football game… Nothing to be nervous about at all… Then we see the crowd. Mr. Rooker had told us that, as the first band, maybe twenty people would be there. No, there was over one hundred, and we are the first band to perform. None of are prepared for something like that. That stadium side is at least one hundred rows high and there are five sections. We all try to slip into routine, and we get into formation after we’re called to break. We’re all with our Ross Roy instrumentation; we’re all straight-backed, looking at the enormous crowd, we give a mighty “Knights!” and our show begins. The show is going well, for the most part. Everyone is messing up, but that is nothing new. A blip or a bop here and there and we’re doing fine. We finish Into the Storm as strong as ever, and we go into To Challenge the Skies and Heavens Above, our third piece of music. Challenge starts off bad, with Sidney messing up his solo. We all march to the music, and at that part of the show, we march to Sidney. Luckily, we all had practiced enough times to have muscle memory guide us. Then, Anna’s oboe solo begins, and with my omniscient, I know everyone here well enough to know this, I feel everyone cringe at the sound. But, as stated before, muscle memory takes over and our ninja flags are thrown aside. We’ve finished the show strong for the crowd. But we finished the show, on the most important night all season, depressed for us.
We’ve stopped playing; the crowd is roaring; the announcer is shouting, “What talent!” But each of us is to busy either being depressed or in a state of shock to really notice. We had all just royally screwed up, and each and every one of us knew it. Normally, we’d be marching off the field to Dylan’s cadence with our heads held high, feeling on top of the world. Today has been different. Today, we’re all marching off the field with our heads bent, thinking, in unison, the same thing. Was it worth it? Was all of our time and effort worth it? Every reply is, No. No it wasn’t. All year, we had practiced, struggled, and sold our souls to the devil for this. We had cried, bled and even hyperventilated for this one moment, for this one chance to go to State. No one smiled. No one laughed. I alone spoke as I told Anna that it would be okay. But, we all felt, no, it wouldn’t be okay, because the real test was only just beginning for us. We had already performed, but this, this waiting and watching… This is going to be the hard part.
We march back over to the “dressing room”, and I hug Anna one more time before I leave her with Dylan, her boyfriend. We are the physical embodiment of depressed as we stood there, getting out of our uniforms. Normally, we’d be comparing how we did with one another, but none of us felt like talking. All of the seniors stayed in uniform, so I’m with Sidney, who really didn’t feel up to talking, and my fellow freshman, Jordan, Zack, Daishaun, and James. None of us feel like comparing anything, so we dress back into football attire in silence. We walk out of the dressing area, and wait for the girls to finish. Standing there, shivering, I start thinking about how I did, and I figure myself on par with about the Hartsville competition – which was three weeks ago from today. That wasn’t a good feeling, so I just sigh and sit down, and everyone follows suit. All of the seniors are standing with Mr. Rooker, probably talking about the performance. Eventually, the girls get done, and we walk to the stadium. When we were on the field, the stands looked really big, but it was nothing compared to having to walk up them. They are massive. By the time I reach my parents, I’m already winded. When I get there, they then laugh and move down to where the other band parents are, and I’m left like, gasping for air. Then they make me go and get them all drinks. At this point, I just want to curl up in a ball, but hey, they’re my parents. After I do that, I go and sit with my senior friends as we eat our fries. All of realize after about five to ten minutes of that, that it wasn’t our smartest idea. The exact opposite of what had happened that morning was happening to us now. Instead of being super hot, we are now super cold. As opposed to not being able to talk, none of us can shut up. The nervousness, however, remains unchanged and unaltered. And, none of us can sit for very long, because the knot in our stomach was reached its climax, and we all soon go and look at all of the booths set up with the band merchandise. I buy a shirt and try to sit down again, and this time I have to wait, because the fourth band is performing. They didn’t sound too great, but after the performance we gave, anything was possible. Eventually, every band has stopped playing. To get into State, we have to be in the top six, and there are seven bands here. Awards would be coming up after Ninety-Six High School performed, so we are all sitting together except for the seniors, because they would be going out onto the field. Ninety-Six marched off of the field and over to the in-zone, because they are such a big band. The announced calls out our name, and each of us cheers as our seniors and Mr. Rooker walk onto our spot on the field. When every band is in their allotted spot, we get to down to business. We all tense up as he says the first band name, the name of the band that wouldn’t be making it. Our shoulders bunched together as tight as possible, we all nearly pass out as he calls, “Great Falls, with a score of…” We all resist the urge to cheer just yet, but as he calls out our name (albeit in 6th, the lowest ranking score, but at least we placed), we all break free of our trance and start up our good ole chant of , “What time is it?” “KNIGHT TIME!”
I couldn’t tell you a single other bands score, ranking, or however much they cheered, because my elated feelings kept me going on a high unknown by me for the past few years. All I remember is as soon as we were allowed, we all ran to meet the seniors and Mr. Rooker on the field and celebrate. We all raced back to the bus and did a real Knight Time chant before we went and got onto the bus, all of us so elated we didn’t know what to do with ourselves. We go to McDonalds to get ice cream and celebrate. The bus ride back home started off really normal. We just talked for a while as each of us fell asleep one by one, until it was just Anna, me, and a few other people left. Dylan had fallen asleep, and was half awake, half asleep. He keeps mumbling things at Anna, and me and her have a lot of fun making fun of him. Eventually, Anna tries to put his legs on hers, so he would be more comfortable, and Dylan falls down in between the seats. He blurts out, “I feel like a llama that doesn’t know how to swim!” And everyone awake on the bus nearly dies laughing, because he honestly doesn’t remember anything. We get back to the school and put the trophy on the podium, and I take a picture of it on my phone. Then I went home and fell asleep, and ended one of the best days of my life.
Deny me your even slight intrest in band now. Not one of you could possibly say you wouldn't want to, and still be in your right mind. Lol....
I'm not sure how that is going to look on blogger, but it's all gramatically okay on Word...
Dude... I'm addicted to heroin.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
2011: Birth of a New Year and hopefully a New Us!
So, as all of you with a decent number of brain cells are aware, I'm a freshman at North Central High School. And, to be perfectly honest, that just recently sunk in. As in, like, "Whoa. I'm in high school." I'm sure every one of you knows the feeling. So, today, I realized; Dang fool. I'm going to my second semester.
So, I figured I'd give ya'll a rundown on some things. A list or two... maybe three!
So, I figured I'd give ya'll a rundown on some things. A list or two... maybe three!
BEST MEMORIES OF 2010
1. By far my favorite memory was the feeling at State finals - seeing my best friends in that much joy stills makes me feel happy!
2. Upper State. When we made got back to the bus, and we chanted, "What time is it?" "KNIGHT TIME!", and a few of us nearly lost our hearing, let's just say it made up for every crap feeling from practice.
3. The aftershock of the realization, "I'm going to have a little brother or sister..." To bad that particular feeling won't have an fruition any time soon.
4. When my family got back together!
5. Getting the award for "Funniest Guy of Our Social Circle" haha. 8th grade was so stupid. XD
BEST NEW FRIENDS OF 2010
1. Becky Robertson/Heather Jones (how could I pick one? =])
2. Rebekah Ann Byrd =]
3. Taylor Wayne Jernigan =]
4. Kayla Knight =D
5. The summer version of Will Sowell
BEST DESCIONS OF 2010
1. Sharing Jesus with all my best friends! 3 people saved! Not the best, but well hey.
2. Marching Band
3. Telling someone something of great relevance to everything! I had a heart here, but apparently it's not allowed. Fail.
4. Asking Becky to rip "A Thug for Christ" for me. Great album!
5. Deciding to become friends with Becky and Heather! Amazing idea! =]
I could do a few more, but, man... Those are hard without questions. Haha. I prefer facebook surveys, to be perfectly honest. Haha. So, yeah, now that it's 2011, I, of course, have some unofficial New Year Resolutions. They're unofficial because no one keeps up with the ones they normally say, but, hey, I don't care what y'all say. I only have four followers anyways. Haha. No particular order of importance.
1 - This one has been on the list for a while... Lose weight. I've decided that this is going to be the year. I know I'm going to cut back a bit on the unhealthy food, and hopefully do P90X a bit more..
2 - Let people know about my #1 - Jesus Christ!
3 - Let more people know about one of my several #2s. Tell as many people as possible and hopefully it'll come together, though it's doubtful, because of the nature of it. Sorry for being vague, but certain people know what I'm talking about!
4 -Learn atleast one more instrument. Maybe even 2! I know atleast flute/piccolo. Then maybe oboe, for you, Anna. haha
5 - Don't have one. haha
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Free Style
Title says it all. For this post, I'm not going to follow the 'finer points' of grammar, by which I mean that most things are going to not be spell checked, and I'm not re-reading this twice to find errors. And, I'm going to say what is on my mind, so, reader beware, you're in for a scare. (+5 cool points if you get the reference!)
Ok. So, you know those days, when everything is just... Stupid? Where everything someone says is so.... Stupid? When all you can think about is how you are so... Stupid? Yeah. We've all had them. I'm not having one though. Today (though it ends formally in five minutes) has been great, actually. I had a lot of fun today and yesterday. But, right now, I'm having one of ^those^ hours. I honestly have not a clue in the world as to what could have caused it. There I was, on my fouton, texting people, throwing my football when I started thinking about next year, which is something I do often. But this time, I wasn't thinking of marching band (for once). Instead, I thought of how all of my friends are graduating. How next year, I'm going to have to find a new place to sit. How, next year, I'm not going to have anyone to text all the time. I'm not going to have someone to go to and tell my stupid stories that only they would find funny, all the time. I'm not going to be able to do this, and do that. And it is driving me insane!!!! For once in my life, I'd like to be content. For once in my freakin life, I don't want to worry about the future, because that's all I do nowadays! "I'm taking this class next semester" "I'm going to this university" "I'm moving" Blah freaking blah. Guess what people. Contrary to popular belief, not one person on this planet besides yourselves gives a crap! So stop telling me about the future, and allow me to live in the present!
But, really, what annoys me more? People talking about the past. That REALLY ticks me off. It's already happened. Deal. Now, I'm a fan of history, so don't get me wrong. It's not that I don't believe you can learn from it, no, I just don't like how people choose to relive their glory days. Like a person, 45, still wearing his high school football team's jacket because they went to state that year. Yeah, you, fat guy I saw in Wal-Mart. Get over it! Seriously!
Ok. The future thing keeps drawing me back, so I'm just gonna go with that for now. So, now then. Totally lost my train of thought there... Oo... Crap. Oh, yeah, now I remember. So, one of those "quotes" from the earlier paragraph was about moving. Moving really annoys me. Y'know why? Because it happened to me so many freaking times. And it made me who I am. Am I proud of it? Yes. Would I wish it upon my worst enemy? Never. So, it really... I don't know... Irks me to hear someone say that they can't wait to move. Because they have absolutely no idea. No. Earthly. Idea. They don't know the alienated feeling of the first day of a new school. How you're on the outside looking in. The look on the other kid's faces when they look you up and down to see where you "belong". They have no idea the terror you face the day before. No idea of what to expect. For those of you that have never moved from a school to a completely different place, here's a basic rundown. It's the day before hand. You have butterflies in your stomach compared to nothing before. Your newly constructed bed is shaking from a loose bolt, and your stomach is about to make you keel over. Trust me, you aren't getting ANY sleep that night. Your dad wakes you up just a little bit early, you shower very quickly and very precisely, and you eat a breakfast that you can barely stomach. You're driving there, and your parents are giving you words of encouragement. They don't help in the slightest. You get there, and you're given your schedule (your parents signed the paperwork days ago), and are shown to your next class. The teacher, of course, makes you get up to the front of the class and say your name and something interesting about yourself. "My name is ******, and I want to sit down." But, no, it'll come out as. "My... Um... Name is *****, and I like... to.... er.... read." Not the best thing to say, by the way. Ecspecially if you are in the class of kids who mostly can't read... =\. But, really, it isn't your fault. The butterflies have reached maximum and the looks of the kids are terrifying. But really. That isn't the worst part. The worst part is when the kids ask you if you know their names for days and days on end, because a new kid isn't very common. The worst parts come when you go to the bathroom, and two guys look like they mean business. One fake swings, as a joke on the new guy, and you automatically duck and realise they're laughing at the nerd. No. Just kidding. The worst part, no joke this time, is when you realize, after a few weeks... That the odds are you will never see a single one of those people you left behind, ever again. When it finally becomes... Complete inside of you. That, no matter what, these are going to be your new friends......
Wow. It felt really good to vent that. Thanks for reading this... 5... followers... lol. And remember. Heroin is only healthy if taken in the shower. Peace!
Ok. So, you know those days, when everything is just... Stupid? Where everything someone says is so.... Stupid? When all you can think about is how you are so... Stupid? Yeah. We've all had them. I'm not having one though. Today (though it ends formally in five minutes) has been great, actually. I had a lot of fun today and yesterday. But, right now, I'm having one of ^those^ hours. I honestly have not a clue in the world as to what could have caused it. There I was, on my fouton, texting people, throwing my football when I started thinking about next year, which is something I do often. But this time, I wasn't thinking of marching band (for once). Instead, I thought of how all of my friends are graduating. How next year, I'm going to have to find a new place to sit. How, next year, I'm not going to have anyone to text all the time. I'm not going to have someone to go to and tell my stupid stories that only they would find funny, all the time. I'm not going to be able to do this, and do that. And it is driving me insane!!!! For once in my life, I'd like to be content. For once in my freakin life, I don't want to worry about the future, because that's all I do nowadays! "I'm taking this class next semester" "I'm going to this university" "I'm moving" Blah freaking blah. Guess what people. Contrary to popular belief, not one person on this planet besides yourselves gives a crap! So stop telling me about the future, and allow me to live in the present!
But, really, what annoys me more? People talking about the past. That REALLY ticks me off. It's already happened. Deal. Now, I'm a fan of history, so don't get me wrong. It's not that I don't believe you can learn from it, no, I just don't like how people choose to relive their glory days. Like a person, 45, still wearing his high school football team's jacket because they went to state that year. Yeah, you, fat guy I saw in Wal-Mart. Get over it! Seriously!
Ok. The future thing keeps drawing me back, so I'm just gonna go with that for now. So, now then. Totally lost my train of thought there... Oo... Crap. Oh, yeah, now I remember. So, one of those "quotes" from the earlier paragraph was about moving. Moving really annoys me. Y'know why? Because it happened to me so many freaking times. And it made me who I am. Am I proud of it? Yes. Would I wish it upon my worst enemy? Never. So, it really... I don't know... Irks me to hear someone say that they can't wait to move. Because they have absolutely no idea. No. Earthly. Idea. They don't know the alienated feeling of the first day of a new school. How you're on the outside looking in. The look on the other kid's faces when they look you up and down to see where you "belong". They have no idea the terror you face the day before. No idea of what to expect. For those of you that have never moved from a school to a completely different place, here's a basic rundown. It's the day before hand. You have butterflies in your stomach compared to nothing before. Your newly constructed bed is shaking from a loose bolt, and your stomach is about to make you keel over. Trust me, you aren't getting ANY sleep that night. Your dad wakes you up just a little bit early, you shower very quickly and very precisely, and you eat a breakfast that you can barely stomach. You're driving there, and your parents are giving you words of encouragement. They don't help in the slightest. You get there, and you're given your schedule (your parents signed the paperwork days ago), and are shown to your next class. The teacher, of course, makes you get up to the front of the class and say your name and something interesting about yourself. "My name is ******, and I want to sit down." But, no, it'll come out as. "My... Um... Name is *****, and I like... to.... er.... read." Not the best thing to say, by the way. Ecspecially if you are in the class of kids who mostly can't read... =\. But, really, it isn't your fault. The butterflies have reached maximum and the looks of the kids are terrifying. But really. That isn't the worst part. The worst part is when the kids ask you if you know their names for days and days on end, because a new kid isn't very common. The worst parts come when you go to the bathroom, and two guys look like they mean business. One fake swings, as a joke on the new guy, and you automatically duck and realise they're laughing at the nerd. No. Just kidding. The worst part, no joke this time, is when you realize, after a few weeks... That the odds are you will never see a single one of those people you left behind, ever again. When it finally becomes... Complete inside of you. That, no matter what, these are going to be your new friends......
Wow. It felt really good to vent that. Thanks for reading this... 5... followers... lol. And remember. Heroin is only healthy if taken in the shower. Peace!
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