'Tis the season to be jolly ...
The season is now upon us, the time of jolly tipsy Christmas carolers, candy canes, prayers to St. Nicholas, church-going, stockings and fireplaces, hot chocolate, presents, gifts, cards, gift-giving, Charles Dickens, pine trees, and snow — well, for some of us anyway.
Where I live, snow is about as abundant as honest politicians.
I'm not going to talk much about Christmas, since holidays never meant much more to me than a few days off of school. (I went to a goalkeeping practice on Thanksgiving Day. That should tell you something.)
I'm also not going to apologize for my long hiatus (think Mt. Everest stacked on Mt. Kangchenjunga long), because by now you should realize, dear long-term reader, that oftentimes my posts are as few and far between as warm socks in wintertime.
I mostly decided to write this little post in order to let you all know that I am not getting high of Dropjes still and because my good friend Mr. X (don't know if he wants his name on the internet) berated me, as only Mr. X could, on my FaceBook wall for my abusing the relationship between me and you.
(Thanks for the motivation, Mr. X! I appreciate the feedback [and comments on this blog, hint, hint] as much as I like Pizza Hut's all-you-can-eat buffet after a cross country race.)
Life has been going fantastically well. Even with thighs that glow in the dark.
Cross country season ended and soccer season began. I'm the goalkeeper for the team, and my goal for each practice is to get my shirt as dirty as possible. Diving into Old A's wonderful soccer field is as awesome as Halo 1's graphics. My washing machine loves the business also.
By the way, I made it to states in cross country, which was my goal, originally missing the slot by one place, and managed to make 100th place in all of Hawaii. Yay.
I got a letter in the mail letting me know that I was selected for a state team going to Australia, and wondering if I had the money to go. Well, after my stint at construction over the summer, yes, yes, I do have the money to go, but I would rather it in the bank than in a torn airplane ticket.
Life is also as busy as a mouse in a wheel, but in all honesty, that's how I like life best. Life's a legal midget if you ask me, way too short to not be busy. If I'm not having a soccer game on the weekend, or doing a hill workout with James Whalen, or an hour long run with James Whalen or doing goalkeeper extra practice with the coach and James Whalen, then I'm at a sophomore beach party with my class, catching some waves.
Side note: As I'm writing this, salt water has begun dripping out of my nose onto the floor. Cheers.
Another side note: Fortunately for me, I seem to have figured out that I am a white kid with thighs as white as snow, and the purpose of sunscreen, so I'm only slightly burnt. Definition of slightly burnt: I'm not going to have half my body peeling off like an orange tomorrow.
Last side note: Since I've looked like Harvey Dent after the majority of my beach trips, this was an improvement for me. Think Apple OS X over Microsoft MS-DOS type of improvement and you'll come close.
November was as crazy as I am, with the soccer season starting and writing a novel in a month for my English honours class. I was only supposed to do 40, 000 words, but my end result was only 400 off of 50, 000. Oh, the joys of over-outlining.
I'm busy reading Of Mice and Men, and The Old Man and the Sea for English class, and for the assignment due for both of them on Monday. Or would be, if I weren't at the family computer, chewing on my fingernail and wondering what I should write next.
Sundays are dedicated to going to church at Solid Rock (9 o'clock service, you should go too), and attempting to take a nice run home at a five minute mile pace.
Five minute miles are about as easy as unstudied-for exams in my opinion, (I'm not even sure if I've even done one) and if you're unfit: impossible to do without having a heart attack.
(By the way, Ryan Hall's Running With Joy is a good book if you know anyone who runs and can't think up a Christmas present.)
I've started training for the next cross country season, and my goal is to be able to run six miles at a five and a half minute pace beside the road and not be killed by some drunken local coming back from the beach in the meantime.
I would appreciate you mentioning me in your prayers before bed each night.
Exams start next week Tuesday, and those are always fun. Three cheers for cramming!
Christmas holidays begin the week after exams, and I've always enjoyed going into the holidays with dark bags under my eyes.
Sum ego, consummavi.
The season is now upon us, the time of jolly tipsy Christmas carolers, candy canes, prayers to St. Nicholas, church-going, stockings and fireplaces, hot chocolate, presents, gifts, cards, gift-giving, Charles Dickens, pine trees, and snow — well, for some of us anyway.
 |
| (Picture taken from Wikipedia.) |
Where I live, snow is about as abundant as honest politicians.
I'm not going to talk much about Christmas, since holidays never meant much more to me than a few days off of school. (I went to a goalkeeping practice on Thanksgiving Day. That should tell you something.)
I'm also not going to apologize for my long hiatus (think Mt. Everest stacked on Mt. Kangchenjunga long), because by now you should realize, dear long-term reader, that oftentimes my posts are as few and far between as warm socks in wintertime.
I mostly decided to write this little post in order to let you all know that I am not getting high of Dropjes still and because my good friend Mr. X (don't know if he wants his name on the internet) berated me, as only Mr. X could, on my FaceBook wall for my abusing the relationship between me and you.
(Thanks for the motivation, Mr. X! I appreciate the feedback [and comments on this blog, hint, hint] as much as I like Pizza Hut's all-you-can-eat buffet after a cross country race.)
 |
| Beginning of the season. My thighs got tanner as the season progressed. And I got smarter. I started wearing my spandex UnderArmour. |
Life has been going fantastically well. Even with thighs that glow in the dark.
Cross country season ended and soccer season began. I'm the goalkeeper for the team, and my goal for each practice is to get my shirt as dirty as possible. Diving into Old A's wonderful soccer field is as awesome as Halo 1's graphics. My washing machine loves the business also.
By the way, I made it to states in cross country, which was my goal, originally missing the slot by one place, and managed to make 100th place in all of Hawaii. Yay.
I got a letter in the mail letting me know that I was selected for a state team going to Australia, and wondering if I had the money to go. Well, after my stint at construction over the summer, yes, yes, I do have the money to go, but I would rather it in the bank than in a torn airplane ticket.
Life is also as busy as a mouse in a wheel, but in all honesty, that's how I like life best. Life's a legal midget if you ask me, way too short to not be busy. If I'm not having a soccer game on the weekend, or doing a hill workout with James Whalen, or an hour long run with James Whalen or doing goalkeeper extra practice with the coach and James Whalen, then I'm at a sophomore beach party with my class, catching some waves.
Side note: As I'm writing this, salt water has begun dripping out of my nose onto the floor. Cheers.
Another side note: Fortunately for me, I seem to have figured out that I am a white kid with thighs as white as snow, and the purpose of sunscreen, so I'm only slightly burnt. Definition of slightly burnt: I'm not going to have half my body peeling off like an orange tomorrow.
Last side note: Since I've looked like Harvey Dent after the majority of my beach trips, this was an improvement for me. Think Apple OS X over Microsoft MS-DOS type of improvement and you'll come close.
November was as crazy as I am, with the soccer season starting and writing a novel in a month for my English honours class. I was only supposed to do 40, 000 words, but my end result was only 400 off of 50, 000. Oh, the joys of over-outlining.
I'm busy reading Of Mice and Men, and The Old Man and the Sea for English class, and for the assignment due for both of them on Monday. Or would be, if I weren't at the family computer, chewing on my fingernail and wondering what I should write next.
Sundays are dedicated to going to church at Solid Rock (9 o'clock service, you should go too), and attempting to take a nice run home at a five minute mile pace.
Five minute miles are about as easy as unstudied-for exams in my opinion, (I'm not even sure if I've even done one) and if you're unfit: impossible to do without having a heart attack.
(By the way, Ryan Hall's Running With Joy is a good book if you know anyone who runs and can't think up a Christmas present.)
I've started training for the next cross country season, and my goal is to be able to run six miles at a five and a half minute pace beside the road and not be killed by some drunken local coming back from the beach in the meantime.
 |
| (Taken from http://www.kiheirentacar.com/jeeps_trucks.html) |
Exams start next week Tuesday, and those are always fun. Three cheers for cramming!
Christmas holidays begin the week after exams, and I've always enjoyed going into the holidays with dark bags under my eyes.
Sum ego, consummavi.
Finis.
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