I just got onto a gymnastics team, Isn't that wonderful?
In essence, I suppose it is. Or, at least, It would be if I were younger. And Stronger. And pretty much everything that I'm not...
You see, I've only been doing gymnastics for a year and a half. I started when I was thirteen. I'm nearly three years older than everyone on my team.
I look at them with envy. How do they get their bodies to work that way? Sure, I'm flexible, but how, exactly, do they find the strength in those twiggy arms to pull themselves over the bar and flipping off of it?
Everything I'm saying may seem shallow but, I really care about this.
Gymnastics is m life. I would probably have gone completely insane without it this last year.
But what's the point in working so hard if I'm just gonna screw it up?
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Thursday, July 7, 2011
How to make a complete idiot of yourself while on a camping trip.
Wow, I haven't updated for a while, have I? I guess I haven't had a lot of drive lately, sorry about that. I haven't really felt the need to write anything. Well, I guess I'll start at the beginning of my week long decline into hell.
It all started with a visit to one of my gymnastics buddy's house. My ten-year-old gymnastic buddy's house.
Before you say anything, yes, I do hang out with children five years younger than me.
Go ahead, call me a loser. I'm used to people hating me by now.
But I'm getting off topic here. Where was I? Ah, yes.
So I stayed there for awhile, doing the normal things that you do with a friend from gym: we went on the trampoline. We then went swimming.
Did I forget to mention that I was going to gym with her that day? I guess I did.
I got invited to team that day; pretty much the only good thing that's happened for me in the past two weeks. Hurrah.
The insane child somehow managed to convince me to sleep over that night. I don't know how she did it. Maybe it was the puppy dog eyes.
So begins the story.
The next day, the kid invited me over to her family's summer cabin, much to the extreme annoyance to her siblings. After a long bout of arguing with myself, I decided to go for nine days of a 'vacation', starting June 29th, 2011.
I went home after five days.
I really don't know what I was thinking, trying to spend nine days with a bunch of dickhead, spoiled, rich teenagers who I hardly knew and an insane ten-year-old. Maybe someone drugged my pancakes.
Bottom line is that the teenagers hated me and I was on the verge on killing the kid by the time I went home.
The only good thing about this trip was that I met the most gorgeous guy (one of the aforementioned demonic teenagers), and that I lost a few pounds. I also went on a boat and swam across a canal. Yay me.
I also managed to make myself feel like a complete looser for not understanding some of the 'normal' slang.
Apparently, according to the other people of my generation, I need to 'get out' more often.
In other words, I'm a dorky looser with no social life and too big of a vocabulary.
Well, at least I can feel at peace knowing that two of the teenage girls were 200+ pounds and the boys were probably being asses because they were trying not to stare at my body in a bikini. I'm not trying to be conceited, I just do gymnastics 9 hours a week.
My recommended book for today is Griffith and Sabine: An Extraordinary Correspondence, by Nick Bantock.
Until next time, my readers
It all started with a visit to one of my gymnastics buddy's house. My ten-year-old gymnastic buddy's house.
Before you say anything, yes, I do hang out with children five years younger than me.
Go ahead, call me a loser. I'm used to people hating me by now.
But I'm getting off topic here. Where was I? Ah, yes.
So I stayed there for awhile, doing the normal things that you do with a friend from gym: we went on the trampoline. We then went swimming.
Did I forget to mention that I was going to gym with her that day? I guess I did.
I got invited to team that day; pretty much the only good thing that's happened for me in the past two weeks. Hurrah.
The insane child somehow managed to convince me to sleep over that night. I don't know how she did it. Maybe it was the puppy dog eyes.
So begins the story.
The next day, the kid invited me over to her family's summer cabin, much to the extreme annoyance to her siblings. After a long bout of arguing with myself, I decided to go for nine days of a 'vacation', starting June 29th, 2011.
I went home after five days.
I really don't know what I was thinking, trying to spend nine days with a bunch of dickhead, spoiled, rich teenagers who I hardly knew and an insane ten-year-old. Maybe someone drugged my pancakes.
Bottom line is that the teenagers hated me and I was on the verge on killing the kid by the time I went home.
The only good thing about this trip was that I met the most gorgeous guy (one of the aforementioned demonic teenagers), and that I lost a few pounds. I also went on a boat and swam across a canal. Yay me.
I also managed to make myself feel like a complete looser for not understanding some of the 'normal' slang.
Apparently, according to the other people of my generation, I need to 'get out' more often.
In other words, I'm a dorky looser with no social life and too big of a vocabulary.
Well, at least I can feel at peace knowing that two of the teenage girls were 200+ pounds and the boys were probably being asses because they were trying not to stare at my body in a bikini. I'm not trying to be conceited, I just do gymnastics 9 hours a week.
My recommended book for today is Griffith and Sabine: An Extraordinary Correspondence, by Nick Bantock.
Until next time, my readers
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