31 March 2009

What do I want? o.o

What would I want if I could have two unconditional wants fulfilled? Good question. I think these:


I don't want the attention people give to little children. I want people to listen to me, and take what I have to say seriously. I don't want to be the annoying little fly that provides background noise, I want to be the person people listen to.

  • Fair Chances
    I want a fair chance, and even playing field where I can do my best and shine. Not somewhere where the popular are automatically favored over the rest.

30 March 2009

SuperHero Name...

If I was a superhero, I'd operate under an amazing name. You could call me ....

Miss Adventure!

Dancing in the Rain

It was raining. Again. Outside the building, the street lights traced half-hyberbolae through the falling rain, while the trees lining the street swayed in the gusts blowing down from the north. Clouds slid across the sky, alternatively revealing and hiding Orion's Belt. Through it all, the freeway's hum could be heard, rising and falling as the occasional truck sped down it.

Inside the house, Sylvia heard nothing, because she was asleep. At least, that's what her parents thought. In fact, she was reading, sheets slipped over her head, curled around the precious book she'd taken from her father's library that morning. It wasn't that the book was particularly interesting to 11-year-old Sylvia. And it certainly wasn't on her school's reading list. But she was reading it, all the same.

In the room next to hers, Alexander, her brother was studying, yellow light shining from under his door. From time to time, Sylvia could hear him yawn, stretch, and move quietly about the room. He did this so softly that his motions soon faded into the white noise of the storm. But when a bump and quiet cursing came from the next room, Sylvia quickly hid the book under her pillow, and sat up. She heard his door open, and she stepped out of her warm cocoon to see where he was going. Opening her door, she saw Alexander disappear down the stairs, carrying some package under his arm. This did not particularly surprise Sylvia, because for years Alexander and her father had carried out similar nocturnal trips.

Alexander had always been their father's favorite: When he had returned from the wars, Alexander was 8, and Sylvia was already walking. After the initial joy of homecoming, Father had withdrawn from his wife, taking only his son into his sanctuary, the library. From that time, Alexander and Father had been inseparable. He had carefully instructed Alexander in politics, mathematics and science, fine arts, and the use of weapons. When he came home from his club, he always had time for a brief romp with Sylvia, but he'd never stay for long, and would retire to the library very soon after.

Her mother was a good wife, a good homemaker, and a good business woman, but unfortunately, never a good mother. She had high hopes for Alexander, and hoped that he would become a fine man of distinction. When he was young, he always knew there would be a sweet of some sort waiting for him with his mother. But when little Sylvia would toddle behind him, there was never anything for her. Mother compensated for her lack of discipline in one with over-discipline in the other. If Alexander pointed out a tiny bluebird in a tree, he was a very clever boy, but if Sylvia presented a flower, she was noisy, inconsiderate little girl. She quickly learned to stay out of Mother's way, and keep her mouth shut.

There was never any lack of encouragement in Alexander's life: He had an adoring mother who would bend over backwards to help him, and an affectionate father to instruct in all of life's mysteries.

So Sylvia stayed put after Alexander left, only closing the door quietly when he left the house. She crept back into the pages of the forbidden book.

Of Birds and Speech Tournaments

When I first got Thor, I thought he would sit in his cage all day and sing beautiful little songs while I worked on homework. Such is not the case. While I'm typing, he is busy grooming himself on my shoulder, shrieking loudly every so often and nibbling on my ear. As it turns out, birds do have personalities. This one was born into a too-small body. With the ego of a bald eagle, if not a vulture, he raises a stink every time you treat him as the 0.5 lb bird he is. Fortunately for my ear, he is not an eagle or a vulture, but that's beside the point: it's actually a pleasant to write with a little friend behind one's ear.

But enough of that.

This year, I competed in four events in the NCFCA: An Open Interpretation, Impromptu, Expository, and Lincoln-Douglas Debate. You may be wondering what they're about (not really, but it's a good transition and excuse to tell you) My interpretation was from G.K. Chesterton's The Club of Queer Trades. The Expository was on the Large Hadron Collider, built be CERN (European Centre for Nuclear Research in French) and physics in general, while I debated on this resolution - Resolved: When in conflict, Idealism ought to be valued above Pragmatism.

Of these events, I qualified to Regionals in all but the Interpretation. I can't say I'm sorry about that, though, because the OI was so much work, and I have more than enough to worry about at Regionals as it is. So I'm quite busy refining cases, practicing speeches, and worrying in the two weeks before the big tournament.

This means I need another list of things I don't have control over:
1. My Reputation
2. Regionals
3. My friends' opinions of me


It's been awhile

Well, it's been some time since I last posted. Definitely had some changes since that last post about stress. Here's the news:
1. I started attending another church sporadically
2. My debate club got a newcoach
3. My family adopted a lovebird, called Thor
4. I've started getting better in speech and debate
5. My brother's off to college
6. For some odd reason, I've started attracting other people's attention

But there's some things that are still the same:
1. I'm still a Christian,
2. My life still threatens to collapse around my ears. :)