Where do they all come from?
From the front desk, of course! Silly geese up there. Today was my first day as head lifeguard at the Rec Center. It was also the first day of the summer swim lesson schedule (pool is closed to public 9-12). Hence, many did not know of the change. When first clearing the pool at 9:00, I had to discuss these circumstances at length with several people, resulting in a late clearing. Then came swim lessons. Quite easy to guard. Meant to be a time for maintenece. Not when you have idiot new people at admissions! Holy cow! They would only tell people the pool was closed if they had swim suits and towels out. Well guess what! The only people who have them out are swim lesson folks! Many a break was filled with consoling angered old men. Grrrrrrr. The desk better learn before tomorrow. I have the same shift again. 5 (yes, in the morning) until 11 (or noon, like today). They scheduled me for that shift four days in a row. Blegh. And my boredom was not even relieved by trying to call the bluebird's house to wake her up. 'Cause she's not there. The only thing I could do was sing to myself while on my chair. And I think nearly all of us know how poorly I sing. And considering I was singing stuff like the Jeeves and Wooster theme song, I got some pretty weird looks.
Actually, I also had time to ponder a new plot line. To tell the truth, though, I got absolutely no plot line decided on at all, but I have eight characters. Seven of which are named (of course, five of them are named after their jobs, but what the heck?). Now I just need a name for that silly fellow who decides to dabble with Death (don't know why he's dabbling, that would require a plot line; ask me in a week). Yay for Hyustineto and Cuneron! Jason officially has a nickname other than what I usually call him. He should be glad. Gleeful, even. I wouldn't like to be called what I usually call him. I'm glad the only nicknames I have are normal, if not rational.
Tuesday, May 31, 2005
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
Uh-oh
My inner Maylene seems to be on the rise. That could be a problem. I like my inner Ayliel better. Or maybe that's my inner Ayliel speaking. Where is Raynodlem when you need him? Or Dilos. Dilos is always a good voice of reason. Maybe if I wrote about Dilos everything would clear itself up. Of course, that would mean writing about all sorts of things in between. As much as I love Isya I don't want to write about it. Besides, I lost most of the Isya scenes in the Great Computer Explosion last year. Hmmm. Maybe Maric and Cedric deserve a revisiting. Or not. Wyliem hasn't seen the light of day in the longest time. F'ara must be getting restless. And what about Tori?! Maybe they should be the focus of my attention. But what about The Scribe? Such an amazing tale when it's in my head. I need to get that one out. If it wasn't so troublesome...
Well, stepping back from this entry, I can now see that this is very revealing of how the summer is going to go for me. But maybe I can at least get my inner Maylene to chill out and stop taking over. A couple of games of frisbee and some visits to the pool should take care of that. Yup, I think that'll do.
In addition, I have rediscovered the fact that Angel Eyes (composed by Jim Brickman) is an amazing song. Me gusta. Me gusto (heh, heh).
Well, stepping back from this entry, I can now see that this is very revealing of how the summer is going to go for me. But maybe I can at least get my inner Maylene to chill out and stop taking over. A couple of games of frisbee and some visits to the pool should take care of that. Yup, I think that'll do.
In addition, I have rediscovered the fact that Angel Eyes (composed by Jim Brickman) is an amazing song. Me gusta. Me gusto (heh, heh).
Monday, May 23, 2005
Robert's!
I love that store. I got these way awesome looking old-fashioned keys. Of course, that's not why I went there originally. But Robert's trips never end the way you plan them to, so it has become expected, thus making them end the way you expect them to. That way being the unexpected, if you catch my meaning. Anyway, mi madre's yearbooks were incredibly funny to read and vanilla pudding stuff tastes really good on crepes, in case anyone was curious. And I am sad that no one on OHS yearbook staff asked what my name was for the swim photo. *weeping*
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
Victory and Irony
We won today, as expected. I did not get yelled at undeservingly, though I did get spoken to loudly (there is a big difference between speaking loudly and yelling). But beyond getting us ready for the upcoming game, this conflict had great humor to it as well.
Today we played the same team as we did for our season opener (also their season opener). We beat them then too, even with one starter gone and two kicked out for excessive foulage. But the big thing is this. In both their first and their last game, they played us. And both games ended with a last-second shot by our goalie! There was much laughter that we tried to disguise as cheering. It wasn't laughter at pathetic-ness, but laughter at the irony. Our goalie won state in the shot put and the discus, so we all know she can throw. It wasn't pathetic that they couldn't stop her.
Today we played the same team as we did for our season opener (also their season opener). We beat them then too, even with one starter gone and two kicked out for excessive foulage. But the big thing is this. In both their first and their last game, they played us. And both games ended with a last-second shot by our goalie! There was much laughter that we tried to disguise as cheering. It wasn't laughter at pathetic-ness, but laughter at the irony. Our goalie won state in the shot put and the discus, so we all know she can throw. It wasn't pathetic that they couldn't stop her.
Monday, May 16, 2005
Weary
The battle had started like any other, only with hopes soaring high as they faced their quarry on grounds of their choosing. It was to be the first of many in the final campaign for the season. Soon the time would not be right for river assaults and thoughts would turn to land defenses. But for now the defenders had work to do.
They began using a different formation than usual, relying highly on the skills of the falcoln and the cheetah to achieve maximum defensive capacity. The greyhound was given a new charge, one that she filled well. But it did little. The new formation was underpracticed and the cheetah was angry, unwilling to listen. She would not fill her post as was necessary for the success of the mission. The addition of the rarely-seen lemur aided in filling the vacancy, but even so the defenders lost ground.
The ocelot had given her all, even launched her own offensive once, but it had been the longest battle of her life--save for when she had been a land defender--and weariness had claimed her in the end. But worse than the lead that filled her limbs was the chastizement from the cheetah. The ocelot was more of a veteran that the cheetah, yet she often bowed to the bigger cat's superior speed and natural skill. Even so, the cheetah did not have the experience that gave one the ability to battle intelligently. The cheetah would often fumble with a maneuver or, as had been the case that day, with a formation. It was quite frequent that the ocelot had to find ways to make up the difference when the cheetah would seemingly give up. However, all this would be bearable if the cheetah could see her own weakness.
Yet she could not. The cheetah was quick to find the fault in others, especially the ocelot and the greyhound. What she failed to realize was that most of the so-called "failures" of the ocelot and the greyhound were really the two animals' failed attempts to do the cheetah's job. Having to listen to the cheetah point out these weaknesses was one of the most unpleasant things she had been forced to do in a long time. The thought often crossed her mind to quarrel with the cheetah, but always, just in time, she would think of the river. It needed them to be unified in their defense. The last thing the defenders needed was dissension in their own ranks. But as soon as this campaign was over, all could rest assured that the ocelot and the greyhound would not hold their tongues for long.
Translation: In the first game of the state tournament for water polo we lost. But I could have handled this, easily. We tried a new defense and it didn't work out so well. There were two people that were supposed to shift side to side with the ball, but they would frequently fail to do so, leaving me and the greyhound to cover two people (seperately, of course, depending on the side that was left unattended). That rarely ended well. This, in turn, led to one of the two girls yelling at us. Yelling in the first place would make me mad, but the fact that she was yelling at us for failing to make up for her shortcomings really rubbed me the wrong way. Beyond this, she often fails to play as a team player, making others (me, the greyhound) swim a lot more that we should, covering people she should be covering. This stems from the fact that it is her first year, while it is our second. She doesn't know how to play smart, and she takes it out on us. It makes me angry, as well as exhausted. Luckily, she is a senior, and after this week, she'll be gone.
They began using a different formation than usual, relying highly on the skills of the falcoln and the cheetah to achieve maximum defensive capacity. The greyhound was given a new charge, one that she filled well. But it did little. The new formation was underpracticed and the cheetah was angry, unwilling to listen. She would not fill her post as was necessary for the success of the mission. The addition of the rarely-seen lemur aided in filling the vacancy, but even so the defenders lost ground.
The ocelot had given her all, even launched her own offensive once, but it had been the longest battle of her life--save for when she had been a land defender--and weariness had claimed her in the end. But worse than the lead that filled her limbs was the chastizement from the cheetah. The ocelot was more of a veteran that the cheetah, yet she often bowed to the bigger cat's superior speed and natural skill. Even so, the cheetah did not have the experience that gave one the ability to battle intelligently. The cheetah would often fumble with a maneuver or, as had been the case that day, with a formation. It was quite frequent that the ocelot had to find ways to make up the difference when the cheetah would seemingly give up. However, all this would be bearable if the cheetah could see her own weakness.
Yet she could not. The cheetah was quick to find the fault in others, especially the ocelot and the greyhound. What she failed to realize was that most of the so-called "failures" of the ocelot and the greyhound were really the two animals' failed attempts to do the cheetah's job. Having to listen to the cheetah point out these weaknesses was one of the most unpleasant things she had been forced to do in a long time. The thought often crossed her mind to quarrel with the cheetah, but always, just in time, she would think of the river. It needed them to be unified in their defense. The last thing the defenders needed was dissension in their own ranks. But as soon as this campaign was over, all could rest assured that the ocelot and the greyhound would not hold their tongues for long.
Translation: In the first game of the state tournament for water polo we lost. But I could have handled this, easily. We tried a new defense and it didn't work out so well. There were two people that were supposed to shift side to side with the ball, but they would frequently fail to do so, leaving me and the greyhound to cover two people (seperately, of course, depending on the side that was left unattended). That rarely ended well. This, in turn, led to one of the two girls yelling at us. Yelling in the first place would make me mad, but the fact that she was yelling at us for failing to make up for her shortcomings really rubbed me the wrong way. Beyond this, she often fails to play as a team player, making others (me, the greyhound) swim a lot more that we should, covering people she should be covering. This stems from the fact that it is her first year, while it is our second. She doesn't know how to play smart, and she takes it out on us. It makes me angry, as well as exhausted. Luckily, she is a senior, and after this week, she'll be gone.
Friday, May 13, 2005
Nostalgia in Yellow Socks
I miss soccer!!! And running!!! And soccer!!! Mostly soccer. *sniff* I miss my land sports. I wanna go kick a black and white ball around a bumpy, pothole-ridden field and shoot it through white metal bars. I want to run up to the water tower, then around the cemetery twice, then around the track below the cemetery twice, then back to the junior high. I want to play with my old soccer fellows. I miss Franklin, Marcie's soccer ball! I want to juggle the ball, no matter how inept I may be! I want to go and be the workhorse in the midfield position. I want to do throw-ins! I miss seeing Mindy do her front-handspring throw-in. I miss corner kicks. I miss our team's kick-off strategy. I miss my cletes. I miss shin-guards. I played for seven frigerian years and I do it no longer! Oh, the sorrow that fills me. I'm all sniffly over goals and balls to big for me to palm. I want to go running, but I know that if I did my knees would collapse.
*slumps back to the comfort of chlorinated water*
Now it's my only friend.
(obviously, this is an exaggeration. I love the water and what I do now, but I really miss soccer at the moment)
ADDITION:
I'm not only going through nostalgia for soccer! Hee hee! Okay, maybe it's not nostalgia, but it's really, really funny. I was going through my 7th grade yearbook and was going to see how geeky I, and all of you, were, but I got side-tracked in the ninth graders section. Looking at all the seniors this year was a crack up! The coyote looks like a heinous dork with his glasses, the eagle looked exactly the same, the hawk had a baby face, the tiger had hair bleached as blond as blond can be, and the [insert an animal I am currently undecided on] looks highly amusing in braces. I didn't get through them all, but it was really funny.
*slumps back to the comfort of chlorinated water*
Now it's my only friend.
(obviously, this is an exaggeration. I love the water and what I do now, but I really miss soccer at the moment)
ADDITION:
I'm not only going through nostalgia for soccer! Hee hee! Okay, maybe it's not nostalgia, but it's really, really funny. I was going through my 7th grade yearbook and was going to see how geeky I, and all of you, were, but I got side-tracked in the ninth graders section. Looking at all the seniors this year was a crack up! The coyote looks like a heinous dork with his glasses, the eagle looked exactly the same, the hawk had a baby face, the tiger had hair bleached as blond as blond can be, and the [insert an animal I am currently undecided on] looks highly amusing in braces. I didn't get through them all, but it was really funny.
Wednesday, May 11, 2005
Ground won, Soldier lost
The ocelot tumbled in a heap to the welcoming forest grass. The most recent conflict on the river had been terribly draining. Not physically, the attackers had received a severe trouncing, but mentally. The cause of her exhaustion was the bobcat. The lynx just didn't know how to hold her temper.
Hadn't they had the upper hand by a mile? Hadn't they? Why did the bobcat have to get so upset? There was no reason! There was never any logic to the bobcat's temper. Near the end of the battle, when they had the attackers on the run, the bobcat had gotten tangled in a petty individual conflict. In a moment of severest irrationability, she had dragged her quarry under that water and tried to strangled her to death. But one thing every river defender was taught was that you didn't want to see an animal struggling for its life. And now the ocelot knew exactly why.
The bobcat's quarry had lashed out viciously, claws bared and slashing with a fury they had never had in the battle before. The bobcat had fended the other off, but she escaped wounded harshly. Chances were she wouldn't be there for the next battle. The river defenders had never seen anything like this happen before. The closest thing was when the males had been attacking and an attempt to take the tiger out of the battle had occured. The tiger was much bigger than most animals seen on the river, and he had more than taken care of himself. But that had been against the opposing side. The ocelot had never thought any of the defenders would have been stupid enough to put themselves in the same situation. But even so, here they were, days away from one of their biggest confrontations ever and they had one of their best fighters down. The ocelot buried her head in her paws. It would be quite the experience.
Translation: the bobcat did a stupid thing today. She got aggressive (as did the other girl) and she went ballistic and held the girl under by her throat. The girl rightfully hit her, causing and inch-long cut along the bobcat's eye that let blood flow freely. Even though she didn't know the extent of her injury, the bobcat pounded the heck out of the other girl. She got thrown out for today's game and the next one. The next one is the first game in our varsity state tournament. And she's a starter. We were winning 23-4 when this happened. I don't know why it did, and I'm not too happy about it.
Hadn't they had the upper hand by a mile? Hadn't they? Why did the bobcat have to get so upset? There was no reason! There was never any logic to the bobcat's temper. Near the end of the battle, when they had the attackers on the run, the bobcat had gotten tangled in a petty individual conflict. In a moment of severest irrationability, she had dragged her quarry under that water and tried to strangled her to death. But one thing every river defender was taught was that you didn't want to see an animal struggling for its life. And now the ocelot knew exactly why.
The bobcat's quarry had lashed out viciously, claws bared and slashing with a fury they had never had in the battle before. The bobcat had fended the other off, but she escaped wounded harshly. Chances were she wouldn't be there for the next battle. The river defenders had never seen anything like this happen before. The closest thing was when the males had been attacking and an attempt to take the tiger out of the battle had occured. The tiger was much bigger than most animals seen on the river, and he had more than taken care of himself. But that had been against the opposing side. The ocelot had never thought any of the defenders would have been stupid enough to put themselves in the same situation. But even so, here they were, days away from one of their biggest confrontations ever and they had one of their best fighters down. The ocelot buried her head in her paws. It would be quite the experience.
Translation: the bobcat did a stupid thing today. She got aggressive (as did the other girl) and she went ballistic and held the girl under by her throat. The girl rightfully hit her, causing and inch-long cut along the bobcat's eye that let blood flow freely. Even though she didn't know the extent of her injury, the bobcat pounded the heck out of the other girl. She got thrown out for today's game and the next one. The next one is the first game in our varsity state tournament. And she's a starter. We were winning 23-4 when this happened. I don't know why it did, and I'm not too happy about it.
Monday, May 09, 2005
Languishing in Boredom
Aaaaaaaaand because I have no life (see below) and nothing to do (also, see below) how about another poorly written poem by yours truly? That's what I thought. Enjoy to your heart's content (meaning you should probably stop now).
Solitude and Silence
Solitude enlightens, silence imparts peace
You may think that this is so
But it isn't quite for me
In solitude I lose myself, there's none for me to find
When silence comes around, it's true, I simply lose my mind
All alone you think of things
But there's no one to tell them to
In silence all the music dies
That makes me dance as I do
For you silence and solitude miracles may perform
But to this wild conception I never could conform
I'd miss the sounds, the Songs of Life
My life would be eternal strife
No one to share my feelings with
Ever lost, kin and kith
So you can keep them if you choose
But in keeping things of emptiness
You
can only lose.
Solitude and Silence
Solitude enlightens, silence imparts peace
You may think that this is so
But it isn't quite for me
In solitude I lose myself, there's none for me to find
When silence comes around, it's true, I simply lose my mind
All alone you think of things
But there's no one to tell them to
In silence all the music dies
That makes me dance as I do
For you silence and solitude miracles may perform
But to this wild conception I never could conform
I'd miss the sounds, the Songs of Life
My life would be eternal strife
No one to share my feelings with
Ever lost, kin and kith
So you can keep them if you choose
But in keeping things of emptiness
You
can only lose.
Lack of a Life
Well, due to a lack of swimming gear, I was unable to go to swim practice. I went to water polo, but not swim. And I have deduced that I have no life. I have spent the entire day wasting away. And my chlorine levels are dropping. I feel my susceptibility to infection rising. My immune system has given itself completely over to the power of chlorine. Anyway, it makes me wonder what people do with their time, how they ever manage to not do their homework, and what I would do with myself if I didn't swim. Maybe I would hang out with friends on weekdays. The badger has spread rumors of such things now that she is free from chlorinated constraints. I think it's a myth. Myth myth (yes? I love Muppets). So today has been a day of much contemplation and even more withering of my consciousness. I can feel my mind going to mush and my muscles fading. I can feel the food I have grazed on congealing in my stomach. And I can feel the germs using the absence of constant chlorine as an excuse to attack my body.
Fallen Hero
Last night I couldn't sleep, due to mental wanderings. I thought about all sorts of things, but one really stuck in my head. I couldn't fall asleep because my feelings wouldn't quiet enough for it. So I wrote this poem to get those feelings out. Once I spewed my troubles out on paper, I was able to fall asleep.
Fallen hero, fallen hero
Just a shadow of the past
Fallen hero, fallen hero
Don't make our sorrow last
Once you forged the way ahead
I followed in your wake
You led me by your good example
Your sincerity and faith
I always thought that you'd be there
To show me where to go
Memories of the better you
Haunt me from long ago
Fallen hero, fallen hero
Will you ever rise again
Fallen hero, fallen hero
You were once my closest friend
It wouldn't be so bad, I think
If you hadn't walked so tall
But now youve shrunk to a pale shadow
Compared to yourself you've grown so small
The tears I've shed on your behalf
Aren't the only ones
For all parents will always weep
For their fallen sons
Fallen hero, fallen hero
Will you ever rise again
Fallen hero, fallen hero
You were once my closest friend
Once a hero, still you are
Help me show the way
I cannot lead the way you did
I don't know how to display
I can't lead the line that follows us
I'm not the same as you
I need you to stand and carry on
I cannot fill your shoes
You've fallen but I'll help you up
If you will only see
The life that stretches out for you
The man that you can be
Fallen hero, fallen hero
Just a shadow of the past
Fallen hero, fallen hero
Don't make our sorrow last
See the hands stretched out to you
Calling you back to your place
Don't abandon us to carry on
Without our brother's face
Rise again and lead again
I don't want you to only be
The example of what I shouldn't do
A ship lost to the sea
You can be so much more
Than a hero fallen to the floor
Pick yourself up, fly again
I know you can, I know you can
You left us once but you can come back
Rise, and fly again
Fallen hero, fallen hero
Just a shadow of the past
Fallen hero, fallen hero
Don't make our sorrow last
Composition wise, I know it's rough and it doesn't exactly flow, but this is more or less what I was feeling.
Fallen hero, fallen hero
Just a shadow of the past
Fallen hero, fallen hero
Don't make our sorrow last
Once you forged the way ahead
I followed in your wake
You led me by your good example
Your sincerity and faith
I always thought that you'd be there
To show me where to go
Memories of the better you
Haunt me from long ago
Fallen hero, fallen hero
Will you ever rise again
Fallen hero, fallen hero
You were once my closest friend
It wouldn't be so bad, I think
If you hadn't walked so tall
But now youve shrunk to a pale shadow
Compared to yourself you've grown so small
The tears I've shed on your behalf
Aren't the only ones
For all parents will always weep
For their fallen sons
Fallen hero, fallen hero
Will you ever rise again
Fallen hero, fallen hero
You were once my closest friend
Once a hero, still you are
Help me show the way
I cannot lead the way you did
I don't know how to display
I can't lead the line that follows us
I'm not the same as you
I need you to stand and carry on
I cannot fill your shoes
You've fallen but I'll help you up
If you will only see
The life that stretches out for you
The man that you can be
Fallen hero, fallen hero
Just a shadow of the past
Fallen hero, fallen hero
Don't make our sorrow last
See the hands stretched out to you
Calling you back to your place
Don't abandon us to carry on
Without our brother's face
Rise again and lead again
I don't want you to only be
The example of what I shouldn't do
A ship lost to the sea
You can be so much more
Than a hero fallen to the floor
Pick yourself up, fly again
I know you can, I know you can
You left us once but you can come back
Rise, and fly again
Fallen hero, fallen hero
Just a shadow of the past
Fallen hero, fallen hero
Don't make our sorrow last
Composition wise, I know it's rough and it doesn't exactly flow, but this is more or less what I was feeling.
Saturday, May 07, 2005
Battles Won and Lost
The younger and less experienced of the river defense had obtained great success in the three-day campaign. The fighting had taken place in four waves, and the ocelot was pleased with all of them. She and the greyhound had done much of the direction involved, but all had done their part with exquisite efficiency. And the raccoon had only insulted a fellow defender once.
In the first wave, all fell into their places easily. They had maneuvered as one body and had executed their plans perfectly. They gave up five lengths of water in the dispute, but they had gained ten. The first clash had ended most beneficially. Morale was high for hours.
The second wave was slow in coming and the attackers were hesitant. The greyhound took full advantage and gained them many lengths in the beginning. In turns, every defender that was present gained the battalion ground. They gave up only two lengths and gained seventeen.
The third wave was a more difficult confrontation for the defenders. Clouds covered the sky and visibility was down. The wind buffeted both sides, but the attackers seemed more prepared for it. It took time for the defenders to adjust and the invaders began with the advantage. But the defenders did not let their opposition walk all over them after that. Every step forward was fended off, every attempt to advance was thwarted. In the end, it was only due to the early advantage that the attackers ended better off. Both sides parted exhausted.
Before the fourth wave came, the defenders took time to rest. Many slept, relaxing tensed muscles. Some licked wounds and some scavanged for food. The greyhound was set on first watch, but soon she too took time to breathe easy. The prickly-tempered kite was out scouting, so they didn't have any reason to worry.
All too soon, the kite returned, trumpeting the approach of the fourth wave. The company knew this would be the last encounter and prepared to give their all. The kite had given them plenty of warning, so when the invaders arrived, they were more than ready.
But alas, the weariness of so many encounters was beginning to set in and the company wavered in their composition. The invaders were fresh, and the skirmish was a fierce one. Rain began to impair their vision and a thick fog made it worse. But the defenders salvaged themselves in time to throw off the final attack, if only by a slight portion.
The younger defenders returned victorious, and they finally had their own battle-tales to tell the elder ones.
In translation, (I'm not sure anyone who wasn't there the past three days would understand this at all) in the JV state tournament, we won our first game 10-5 and we played together excellently. The second game we won 17-2 and it got to the point that our coach pulled the greyhound and me for the last quarter. The third game we lost by one, and we were at an outdoor pool so the inclement weather was beginning to be frustrating. In the fourth game (the consolation game for 3rd place) we won by one, but we accidentally scored one of the other team's goals and we threw them the ball a lot. The last game was played in the rain and the pool was steaming. The third and fourth games were played on the same day, and most of us had been to a swim meet before. Why I swam the 200 meter butterfly while I was there I'll never know. We took third in state, and this is the first year we've even had a JV team to send.
In the first wave, all fell into their places easily. They had maneuvered as one body and had executed their plans perfectly. They gave up five lengths of water in the dispute, but they had gained ten. The first clash had ended most beneficially. Morale was high for hours.
The second wave was slow in coming and the attackers were hesitant. The greyhound took full advantage and gained them many lengths in the beginning. In turns, every defender that was present gained the battalion ground. They gave up only two lengths and gained seventeen.
The third wave was a more difficult confrontation for the defenders. Clouds covered the sky and visibility was down. The wind buffeted both sides, but the attackers seemed more prepared for it. It took time for the defenders to adjust and the invaders began with the advantage. But the defenders did not let their opposition walk all over them after that. Every step forward was fended off, every attempt to advance was thwarted. In the end, it was only due to the early advantage that the attackers ended better off. Both sides parted exhausted.
Before the fourth wave came, the defenders took time to rest. Many slept, relaxing tensed muscles. Some licked wounds and some scavanged for food. The greyhound was set on first watch, but soon she too took time to breathe easy. The prickly-tempered kite was out scouting, so they didn't have any reason to worry.
All too soon, the kite returned, trumpeting the approach of the fourth wave. The company knew this would be the last encounter and prepared to give their all. The kite had given them plenty of warning, so when the invaders arrived, they were more than ready.
But alas, the weariness of so many encounters was beginning to set in and the company wavered in their composition. The invaders were fresh, and the skirmish was a fierce one. Rain began to impair their vision and a thick fog made it worse. But the defenders salvaged themselves in time to throw off the final attack, if only by a slight portion.
The younger defenders returned victorious, and they finally had their own battle-tales to tell the elder ones.
In translation, (I'm not sure anyone who wasn't there the past three days would understand this at all) in the JV state tournament, we won our first game 10-5 and we played together excellently. The second game we won 17-2 and it got to the point that our coach pulled the greyhound and me for the last quarter. The third game we lost by one, and we were at an outdoor pool so the inclement weather was beginning to be frustrating. In the fourth game (the consolation game for 3rd place) we won by one, but we accidentally scored one of the other team's goals and we threw them the ball a lot. The last game was played in the rain and the pool was steaming. The third and fourth games were played on the same day, and most of us had been to a swim meet before. Why I swam the 200 meter butterfly while I was there I'll never know. We took third in state, and this is the first year we've even had a JV team to send.
Thursday, May 05, 2005
Preparation
I am overly presumptuous, I know, to equate water polo with defending a river from invading animals, but I didn't want to bother coming up with anything else. So here is my presentation of my pre-game preparation. If I feel so inclined, I might write about the actual game afterwards.
The ocelot breathed deep, steeling her mind and her body for the night ahead. Worries tried to force their way into her consciousness, but for the most part she kept them at bay. That night there would be a minor skirmish along the river. Due to the smallish size of the invading faction, the higher leaders of the river defense had left it to the less experienced to deal with. With the heads excluded, the ocelot would be among the ringleaders of the expedition. It would be far more mentally draining than physical, and she prepared herself accordingly.
However, certain worries were finally managing to worm their way into her mind. The raccoon was one of her main concerns. The ocelot had been in one of these skirmishes before, and the raccoon had let loose. She had refused to see reason and had tried to assume authority that was not hers. She had insulted many of those involved as well. From her own side, no less. The raccoon had a habit of creating great division in the band of defenders. The ocelot only hoped that circumstances would not arrise that would incur her wrath. She had no wish to create division either, but if provoked on this night, she doubted she would hold her tongue. She prayed that the raccoon would hold hers.
The ocelot's other worry was directed more inward. In the last confrontation with an invasion, she had heinously failed in her duties. The invaders had made many advances due to her inability. She sincerely hoped that she would not fail in such a way again.
The ocelot breathed deep, steeling her mind and her body for the night ahead. Worries tried to force their way into her consciousness, but for the most part she kept them at bay. That night there would be a minor skirmish along the river. Due to the smallish size of the invading faction, the higher leaders of the river defense had left it to the less experienced to deal with. With the heads excluded, the ocelot would be among the ringleaders of the expedition. It would be far more mentally draining than physical, and she prepared herself accordingly.
However, certain worries were finally managing to worm their way into her mind. The raccoon was one of her main concerns. The ocelot had been in one of these skirmishes before, and the raccoon had let loose. She had refused to see reason and had tried to assume authority that was not hers. She had insulted many of those involved as well. From her own side, no less. The raccoon had a habit of creating great division in the band of defenders. The ocelot only hoped that circumstances would not arrise that would incur her wrath. She had no wish to create division either, but if provoked on this night, she doubted she would hold her tongue. She prayed that the raccoon would hold hers.
The ocelot's other worry was directed more inward. In the last confrontation with an invasion, she had heinously failed in her duties. The invaders had made many advances due to her inability. She sincerely hoped that she would not fail in such a way again.
Monday, May 02, 2005
A Dance, Good Sir?
Prom was joyously fun, and I thought I should mention it before I get into current worries. The guy who took me has a snow leopard-ish personality and we got on quite well. Mightily enjoyable and well-planned.
Now, for the current horrors.
Chemistry is of the devil. Period. The state cumulative final is going to kill me. After careful selection, I printed off the notes that I MUST study from. They total to about 1/4-1/2 inch thick. But that's only for the first half of the year. I'm going to die.
Thursday-Saturday is going to be heinous and a half. The JV water polo state tournament, plus the county invitational for swimming. Getting both done in the same days while still having enough energy to survive should be an interesting feat. Maybe some merciful team will eliminate us from the tourney early on. Highly doubt it, as it's double elimination, so I have to play at least Thurs-Fri, which are my major problem days. Bleh.
So, yeah, my brain is currently fried.
Now, for the current horrors.
Chemistry is of the devil. Period. The state cumulative final is going to kill me. After careful selection, I printed off the notes that I MUST study from. They total to about 1/4-1/2 inch thick. But that's only for the first half of the year. I'm going to die.
Thursday-Saturday is going to be heinous and a half. The JV water polo state tournament, plus the county invitational for swimming. Getting both done in the same days while still having enough energy to survive should be an interesting feat. Maybe some merciful team will eliminate us from the tourney early on. Highly doubt it, as it's double elimination, so I have to play at least Thurs-Fri, which are my major problem days. Bleh.
So, yeah, my brain is currently fried.
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