Ugh!

Well it turns out "Armadillius Daffengale" is a mystery. He is either a 7th grader, 8th grader, or... a 9th grader. But 9th graders aren't supposed to do modified sports, right? He goes to a public school. Gates-Chili. You're not supposed to do a modified sport if you're GOOD and you're in NINTH grade. So I don't think he is.

Between 7th and 8th grade - there are SO many records that say he is in 8th grade, and the newspaper said he was in 7th! LIKE WTF. Can you trust Democrat and Chronicle?

I am also not excited for my piano recital this Sunday, or my long course meet that I have to swim the 400 meter freestyle this Saturday.

I *am* excited for Solo festival this Thursday. Isn't that weird? I think I'm only saying I'm excited because I don't want to epically fail and roll over in my grave thinking about how nervous I actually am. So I'm excited. Jumpy. ECSTATIC!

Okay. Bye.

A Record of Champs

The stuff below is actually based on true events; however I did change names. To be specific, I changed the hot dude's name. Don't laugh.


--

I was not at all excited for Championships, or Champs. First of all, I did not go to the peak "hell" practice, so I didn't have something overly dramatic to taper off of. Second of all, as Shane would put it, I had "a friendly visitor." The last time that happened was at Silvers and I absolutely tanked that. I'd have to eat a TON of food and drink lots of fluid in order to keep my energy up for the entire meet.

I paced around restlessly before the meet started. I had already warmed up, but starts were a horrible disaster. I was a bit snappish that day, with the whole starts incident and getting up at 7:00 AM on a Saturday morning. Heck, I wouldn't have been happy waking up on Sunday morning either, but at least my friendly visitor would have left me in peace.

What really ticked me off was that there was this blonde highschooler who was scribbling something furiously on his program. I figured he was helping out his team, but it really set me off, not because of what he was doing, but the fact that he was doing it RIGHT OUTSIDE OF THE GIRLS' LOCKER ROOM.

It hadn't escaped my notice that this guy was good-looking. No, of course I had noticed that. I just thought that he was thinking, "Oh, I'm outside the girls' locker room, of course all the hot girls are going to see me and think about how good-looking I am..." I had scoffed at the idea. I didn't actually see his face yet, since he was so focused on his little writing, but I didn't think he'd be that great if he was outside the girls' locker room for attention.

Boy, was I wrong.

I kind of stared at him for a while to try and see what kind of features he had. I didn't really get much out of it. Right then, he looked up, and there was an expression of such genuine surprise mixed with innocence that my original expressionless face (or glare, depending on how he interpreted my expressions) must have been taken over with surprise as well. I looked away quickly, but not before I realized how cute he was.

"Oh my gosh, guys!" I exclaimed later to Norah, Rachel, and Colleen. "So there was this really hot blonde kid..."

"WHERE?" shouted Norah. "You need to show me!" Then she took off to find our coach, Shane.

"Who?" Colleen asked.

"I don't know," I admitted. "All I know was he was blonde, and he was HOT."

There was a slight pause as Colleen pondered for a second. "Oh!" she said, turning around. "You mean Armadillius Daffengale? I saw him, too!"

I froze. Armadillius Daffengale? Why, wasn't that the kid that everyone mentioned about how fast he was? And apparently he was around our age. He was basically a future Olympian, comparable to a Michael Phelps from the Niagara District...

Horror began to dawn on me as this new information processed through my brain. I had been staring at Armadillius Daffengale. THE Armadillius Daffengale.

I had heard of his name before, and I wasn't really sure what to expect. I didn't expect to see him there, at Champs, and I definitely did not expect him to be so attractive. Truthfully, I expected a tall, skinny, brown-haired kid who had long arms and legs and could walk across the pool deck in two strides. I did not expect a blonde, muscular kid who hadn't even grown his full height yet to be the famous Armadillius Daffengale, but now that I saw him, I wasn't all that surprised.

I puzzled over him. His expression was so cute, like a clueless little kid who was placed in a crowd of people and confused. It was, I don't know, kind of adorable, really.

How could someone so genuinely adorable turn out to be such a beastly swimmer? For some reason I pictured a ravaging monster who would stop at nothing to get good times. But he just looked so nice. I sincerely hoped that he actually learned stuff in school and wouldn't turn out like Michael Phelps and start smoking weed...

I was sure he was one of those people who everyone had a crush on, which made me not want to have anything to do with him. But that innocent look...

Oh, well. What can it hurt to have a celebrity crush?

---
Okay, so it turns out "Armadillius Daffengale" is actually an 8th grader (HE'S AN EIGHTH GRADER? HE LOOKS LIKE A FRESHMAN, AT LEAST!) And my friend Colleen used to know him quite well. So... in the swimmer world, we are all connected. Dang.

It also turns out he is quite inappropriate because he is going out with a girl on his team who is 15 (he's only 13!) How come I find that *KIND OF* wrong?! He was also talking about bj's in the locker room, apparently, according to my dear friend Liam.

Yuck, not the innocent person we thought he was...

So when Colleen saw this, she was like, "OMG I WILL KILL YOU! HE IS ONLY A LITTLE KID!" Yeah, so much for LITTLE kid! First off, he's HUGE! Anyone who can pass for a highschooler is not a little kid! And anyone who is dating someone who is officially two years older than him is definitely not a little kid! And anyone who talks about *YUCKYUCKBJ'SYUCKYUCK* in the locker room is DEFINITELY not a little kid!

Wow. I am so prejudice about this one kid before I've even met him! Dang me, guys, send me to jail.

Bad Days

I had a really bad day yesterday. I was stripped from something I thought I would get, something I wanted very badly for a long time now.
Yesterday was the day I was playing for Solo Festival. It seemed like everything that could possibly go wrong went wrong. And that is not an exaggeration.
My piano lesson was okay, but I really need to practice more. Nothing went badly there.
Then came Solo Festival. I practiced so much, for at least three or four months, on this one freaking piece. I was playing at home without the accompaniment, da da da da, and it sounded amazing. When I went there, however, nobody gave me any pep talk or anything. They all said I would be fine. The warm up room was so quiet that when I played, it felt really awkward. However, I didn't really care for it much because I wanted to get my solo over with, so after I went upstairs and waited for my turn.
I have to admit, I really was kind of nervous. The scales were fine, in fact, they were the best scales I've ever done. That's when really bad things happened.
The moment my bow touched the string for the first note of my "solo," I knew it was going to be bad. My hand was riding up the bow, the piano was going and going and going... Now that I remember it, it felt like a nightmare. There wasn't anything I could do... I couldn't just stop my solo and start over again. That's probably what everyone's been so key about - DO NOT STOP YOUR SOLO. My fingers were really stiff because the hallway was FREEZING out there... the piano lady messed up once. And the judge took a point off for that.
And I played probably the worst I've ever played that song. Every single time I played that song, while I was practicing, playing for my teacher, or rehearsing for solo festival... I've played it better than when I played for the judge. EVERY SINGLE TIME. I messed up over notes; I skipped over runs... basically, I sucked.
For my sightreading, I did everything perfect except I played one measly little E when I was supposed to play an Eb, and I *KNEW* that I was supposed to play an Eb. I messed up. Badly.
It didn't come as a horrible shock that I ended up getting an 89 on my solo. AN 89. WHAT THE FUCK. That's not even a 90! That's not even an A!
THAT SUCKS
Then I found out that the cutoff for All County was a 90. ONE POINT AWAY. I can't even submit my score. Everyone else who played a level 5 or above from Brighton would have gotten in. They would have all went, and I would be the only one who didn't make it. I'm all alone. And I thought I could've made it! I put so much work into it... I could've played that piece any other time and got a 100.
I felt like I spent too much time on the piece. 3-4 months on one piece? That's a long time... and the fact that NOBODY was there for me. My parents were there, obviously, but they don't know much about music and they can't tell the difference between a wrong note and an intentional chord. To them, it's the same thing. Not that it's a bad thing or whatever, I love my parents. Last year, Ms. Muhl was there reminding me to play blahblahblah, checking my bow, blahblahblah, my violin teacher actually practiced sightreading with me...
It was like studying for a test 10 months before the test was actually taken, and then when I actually was about to take the test, the questions were gone and only the answers were left. How am I supposed to do well if I don't even read the questions?
This year it's like, "Oh, you're amazing; you'll do great; you'll be fine." BAM. Big surprise, sucker-faces. Who's amazing now? Thanks for letting me fail miserably and do so badly that my dreams are all shattered, and it's all thanks to our overly-cockyness about how amazing I'll do.
Then I realized that the fact I did so badly all boiled down to so many things fitting together to weave this horrible web of sucky-ness.
And the reason why I sucked so badly was because
I'M NO GOOD.

Cheerleaders

Today, I asked my dad why guys liked to date cheerleaders. It had occured to me that cheerleaders weren't very... attractive. I figured I would be able to ask my dad, since you know, he's a guy, or at least he was one. Now he's a dad.
Well I guess he gave it some thought because he suggested that it was because cheerleaders root guys on during football and basketball, and when someone just cheers for you like that, you feel compelled to be attracted to them or whatever. And I don't mean that in a sexual way or anything, I just mean if someone was really supportive about you, you'd want to be friends with that person, right? So I guess I could understand...
My dad also said that guys like to show off, so if girls cheer them on, they like to show off even more. Apparently girls like it when guys are brave and tackle each other in football, or make a really nice shot in basketball. That, I thought, was ridiculous. But I guess I *could* understand why they're so attracted to each other. It's a matter of being supportive, I guess.
Maybe that's why I like my swim club so much. They're so supportive... and it seems like they're seeking *me* out, instead of me always finding them. I just really like them for some reason.

Oh, I just found something I wrote during study hall because I was *really really* *EXTREMELY* *RIDICULOUSLY* bored. I guess it's kind of a continuation of the last post, so here goes:

Sometimes, I wonder why he's so nice to me. I wonder why he even talks to me. What's so special about myself?
That's how it always was. I'm *good* at something, but not extraordinary. I'm like a face in the crowd. Good, but not special.
I wonder, does he think of me as a newfound pet that he can cherish for a little while, and when I am old and boring, he can abandon me? I don't like to think that way, espeically since he doesn't seem like that type of person, but one can never be sure. I don't even know if he actually likes me, or if he wants to be my friend.
I'm someone new, someone who they don't know. There are things about me that are as foreign to them as an alien would be. Perhaps that is why I'm so interesting, the fact that I'm a mystery to their minds.
I wonder if in the future, one day, they will all look back and recall a faint trickle of a memory of a girl like me, and say to themselves, "Oh, I think I remember her..." or maybe I won't leave much of an impression at all.
He always seems so excited to tell me something, I can't help but note a possibility that maybe we could be great friends, or more. I don't want to be heartbroken, but maybe...
At this point, all I can hope for is that I'll always be remembered.
***

This is where my boredom has driven me. Bleh.
Oh yes, Ritti, I did read that website you sent me. It was... interesting. So now we're taking drugs to fall in or out of love? Yuck.

I guess I'm starting a journal.

I was going to type this on Microsoft Word for my own personal usage, but I guess I'll use this instead, since rarely anyone ever reads it.

Dear Blog,
I'm thirteen. Almost a woman, and yet still unable to let go of childish innocence. I wish I could stay this age forever. Yet this is the age where love is infatuation, and infatuation is the fuel to the drama in every day of our lives.
I think how sad it is that we grab onto this little piece of life and refuse to let it go, when there is so much more in life to pursue than some silly little crush. But in this way, I am hypocritical, for I also find it quite fascinating.
Sometimes I imagine little tinsy bits of stories going around, as if I could picture what would happen in a few years. In truth, perhaps I am tortured by the fact that I can not predict the future, as much as I want to be able to.
I am currently tortured by the fact that I'm not even sure what to do with my life. There are so many choices, each leading to a different ending... but maybe that is why it's so great to be a child. No burdens, no worries, just life. I think childhood is truly the only time in life that we actually live. After that... it's just an endless pattern of doing the same things over and over again, every single day...
Which is why I believe that maybe the only reason people invent drama is to entertain themselves. They like to believe there is something more to see then there actually is, and perhaps they are right. I just don't like how people like to invent bad things, terrible things to say about others. Gossip. Why can't we invent good things? I like movies that are funny. That may be one of the only ways that drama is good, when drama does not harm others.
I could maybe start a little dramatic scene of my own, right now. Tell me, what would you do if I suddenly said that I had a crush on someone? Would you say, "Eh, okay, I don't care," but still would be curious to find out who it is. Would you get excited and jump for joy, while thinking of ways to worm the answer out of me? Or would you perhaps think, "Oh, maybe I know who it is..."

Currently, I think everyday when I see them, "Could I ever be with one of them?" The person of my interest, he seems to be best friends with a girl he met only a couple of weeks ago, a month at most. It kills me to see how they can be such great friends, yet perhaps I'll never be that close to him. I wonder if we'll ever be together like that, after all I've said that could possibly have irritated him.
Then there is another person, who is so kind to me, ever so kind. Truth to be told, when I first laid eyes on him, I was actually quite frightened. His stare was so indifferent, so without warmth, I was very wary to talk to him. It seems like now, after several weeks of getting to know each other, that we are friends. His sister and I, why I love her. She is incredible. And him, well I wouldn't mind if we were ever together. It might be kind of awkward at first, but I'm sure we could be wonderful.
Then there is the third, who I know would not fit me at all, I find myself wanting to talk to him. He is so blunt. He says thing in such a fashion that I could not possibly keep from laughing. I know for a fact that I am not of interest to him, and yet it doesn't pain me as it pains the first person I was talking about. To this person, he is like my brother in such a way that if we were ever to date, I think I would throw up at the thought. I may have used to call him attractive, but now to use those words to describe him would be the same as saying that my own brother was "hot." It is rather revolting to think about that.
And I know what you might be thinking. "Who could this be?" You may have guesses, but I assure you, you probably would not be able to guess the first two. They don't go to our school. And the third, well, only my closest friends would be able to guess him, for we don't exactly speak during school regularly, and I certainly don't show him much affection when I see him in real life.
And now you can see how love and infatuation has tortured me. Three men in my life that I could possibly like, although it's more narrowed down to two. The third person, he doesn't really count. And it tortures me even so because the two, they are best friends! If I show any affection to either, the other might be hurt, because I like to think that I am equal friends to the two, and I would wish most for it to stay that way.
So I stand, faking smiles and laughs, having fun, when deep down inside I am thinking of these terrible things. Horrible, isn't it? To be so confused, yet forbidding myself to think of liking one of the other.
I've been forbidding myself to even consider liking someone. I just don't want to be back into that circle of obsessiveness. No, no siree. I refuse.

Rawr

Blogging died.

For me, blogging died because no one else posted, so I didn't have any competition for posting. And, I didn't have much to say. I am silent.

Whoa, emo.

Today, I went to Ritti's most awesome wedding. We ate pizza. No, there were no dresses, or gowns, or anything.

Following Alice's idea, I think I shall write a story! That WILL NOT be continued, because I can't think of anything at the top of my head. You guys can continue it, and we shall create a big story together! YAY

Umm...

Okay nevermind. Someone else can start the story. idk what to write about!

Ho hum

Well I just came back (figuratively) from this awesome thing with Laura and Cara. They helped me make posters for the student council election thing, and I invited them to a barbeque to thank them.

What makes me so mad about the elections is that Jane won 2nd only because she's Sam's sister. I probably shouldn't even be saying what I think about the elections online because everyone can read it. But not only Jane got 2nd, I was said to have THREE-WAY-TIED WITH ZACH AND MAX.

There is NO FUCKING WAY I TIED WITH ZACH AND MAX.

Sorry. I don't like swearing, but there is absolutely NO WAY. I think they only said that because there are 4 offices for student council and 5 people running, and they didn't want the 5th person to feel bad. Still, they shouldn't have said it was a three way tie because I am no where near as unpopular as Zach and Max are.

Plus, is Jane even good at math to be treasurer? She said herself that she doesn't really have time to be treasurer. If she didn't have time to be TREASURER, why run for PRESIDENT?! Not that I have anything against her running. It's just I wanted to be treasurer if I didn't get president. At least I actually am committed to the student council meetings.

Nicky isn't even that leaderly. I hate how the teachers are like, "Omg, Nicky! I love you! We're totally going to listen to every word and will you have! Even if you demolish the school we will kiss your feet and shine your shoes! EEEEE!!" Fine, I'm jealous. But if any of you have been to student council meetings, you'll know what I mean when I say he has a HUGE ego when it comes to student council. Apparently his dad is some president of a technology/science company thing, and the rest of his family including his brother, himself, and sister all run for student council. Is it wrong to think that their family should give someone else's family a chance? It's almost as bad as the Adams family in like the 1780-1800's and the Bush family. GODDA** IT GIVE SOMEONE ELSE A CHANCE!

Student Council members obviously have some problems. IM or Facebook me if you need to understand why. (The above is just a MINORITY compared to the rest of them.)