French Week in Shaler Area is a sight to behold. Now, all of you Shalerites know how strange it is. Most schools would not call it normal to have pictures of girls drawn on the walls doing the Can-Can in fluffy skirts and having their hair tied back, which more looks like a flag than actual hair, nor is it normal to walk down the Language hallway to have huge (and when I say huge I mean like longer than a classroom huge) drawings of different shop-fronts from the main street in old Paris. Now, get me straight, I'm not bashing anything. If you think I'm making fun of the artist who drew (has drawn? Hell if I know; grammar and spelling are for pompous people) those Can-Caning girls, or the architect who painted the Moulon Rouge on the window of our cafeteria, or all of the shopfronts, consisting of Virgin Mobile Megastore, and some cafes that I can't even pretend to know how to pronounce, or Sephora, or of course, the Eiffel Tower, you're sadly mistaken, my friend. Anyone who has gotten a note from moi knows that art is not my special talent (I seem to be unable to give a note to a friend without one stick-figure with crazy-ass hair depicting anyone from myself, to a teacher, to anyone I have basically ever known. It's just what I do to spice up an otherwise boring-as-all-get-out note. If I could somehow put stick-figures in everyone of these posts, rest assured that I would.).
But the best thing to behold on French Week is that I do believe it started on a Wednesday (starting on the beginning of the week just makes too much sense, it's too easy to predict then), when I was casually strolling down the Lanuage hallway, trying to get to my Sociology class, when I passed Madame Maiser's room. Those of whom who do not have French don't know that Madame is about....Well I don't know, but she is not a young woman anymore. Walking down the hallway, staring at all of these huge posters of places you've never been to and not even heard of that seemed to have put themselves up overnight (because they did), and all of a sudden all you can hear is the Can-Can blaring out of the French room. Even that is, you know, copable? Able to be coped with? I dunno. Give me a break, it's a week before Thanksgiving (37 days until Christmas! I'm excited!) and all I seem to be able to think about is turkey and chocolate cake.
Anyways, hearing the Can-Can out of the French room is able to be dealt with, I mean, it is Shaler and stranger things have happened, I can tell you. Actually, I can't. I am unable to think of one semi-interesting/shocking thing that would make a random song coming out of a room seem ordinary. But anyways, what throws me for a loop is hearing not-quite-so-young Madame Maiser singing and dancing along to said song. My mouth drops open, and all I Can-Can do is laugh. I keep on moving and laughing, which turns out not to be the smartest move ever because I'm walking alone and people tend to stare at the girl who laughs for no reason.
Oh, well. All I can say is rock on to the French people, because they can pull it off. If Spanish tried it, no one would care nor help (I'm living proof of that. Ask me to help put up signs of famous Spanish/Mexican landmarks all around the school, you better brace yourself because you're going to be getting laughed at.), and no one really cares about Latin. I'm sorry, erm, Latin-ers, but they don't. The only reason anyone takes it is for the SAT's, am I right? And if Japanese people tried to put Anime people all over the walls? With all the Gothic and not-so nice people, and well, just un-cooperative people in Shaler(more specifically, me), I really don't think it'd wash. If I insulted your language, I apologize, because I know you're very attached to the subject you're learning, but it's only my opinion. Which is kind of why I started this blog. To whine about things that happens to me and tell strange things that don't always necessarily happen to me, but simply talk about it. Maybe I just started this to talk. That sounds reasonable.
Well, unless something absolutely amazing happens at work this weekend (I think I'm working all three nights again, what joy), I doubt I'll post again before Thanksgiving, and beware: at this time of year I go Christmas-happy. So for the next four weeks, my posts will probably all consist of something related to Christmas. I'm just that obsessed, and it happens. Anyways, have a good Thanksgiving to all and don't kill yourself playing a Turkey Bowl (us girls are too fragile to play...)
P.S. I still suck at Powderpuff. And if you didn't know, I think I posted this last time but I don't care, come support Juniors this Monday night, 6:00 on the HS Turf. Be there! Actually, you'll be able to pick me out because I was absent from school today and didn't get a jersey, so I'll be the chick who's sharing several people's jersey...For the total of like once I go in.
Anyways, Adios (I can't seem to be able to end this damn post)...Or should I say, Au revoir?
Thursday, November 17, 2005
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
Powderpuff, baby!
Well, it's that time of year again, ladies and gents. Powderpuff football! In last years fiasco, the Juniors got their asses handed to them when they lost to the Seniors 27-zippo. This year, us Juniors swear that it'll be different, I mean, can we can't out-do last year's Juniors...The only thing is, for as long as we can remember, all the Juniors swear that this year will be the year that changes things. This year will be the year that the Juniors kick the crap out of the Seniors, rather than the other way around. Last year, I sat in Spanish listening to all the Juniors brag about how good they are and how they're going to win, and we already mentioned the end of that game....But the point is, everyone's saying the same thing this year. All of my friends swear that we will end the curse, and we'll win, and I can't pretend that I don't say that, because it's all part of the game.
So, anyways. Today was the first practice. There are three practices for two hours. Do you expect us to be any good? I figure the Seniors are always better because they got three more practices than the Juniors...Even if it was a year ago. So I decided that I should be a receiver. Can I catch you ask? On a good day. Can I throw? God, NO! Any wonder I didn't try out for quarterback? I realize I'm fast...So if by some un-Godly chance the ball gets thrown to me, and , even more unlikely, I catch it, chances are I can out-run most people. It's the catching stuff that gets me. We learned the Hitch, Slant, and, well, I can't remember the other one, but it's the one when you fake down the sideline and I'm pretty sure it starts with 'F.' The Hitch and Slant I can do, but the other one? Oh, man. We were practicing them (along with which side you had to go on...That was confusing if anything ever was), and one of our coaches (all the Junior football players took it upon themselves to try to teach us), Marcus, decided that I should do the long one just so he could throw the ball down field to hit one of his friends. That was great. But our coaches were really nice. Todd told everyone they did good, even those who sucked *cough, me cough*, and gave a genuine effort to teach us the right thing. Marcus just kind of supported him and was a laugh. I told Marcus that I was not a quarterback after my attempt at throwing the ball back at Todd and all he said was, "I think everyone has figured that out by now." Just smile and nod...
Then we tackled defense. Ha! That was great. I am not someone who can tackle at will. I am not someone who can even try to stay with someone. It just doesn't work. That's all I need to say about defense. I'm an offender and that's that.
Actually, the most fun was when they threw the ball down the field and everyone had to try and get the ball. It always ends up in a huge freaking pile-up, when everyone just jumps on each other, really. Hence the name "Tackle the man." But I got there first, but being a munchkin, I sorta got picked up...And someone ran off with it. I was also the one at the bottom of the pile, getting there first. That was quite fun, let me tell you. It was sort of a negative.
But maybe everyone else is good. We're supposed to get equal time, but somehow the groups got put into 'popular' and 'not.' I was part of 'not.' Laz, the actual coach, said that we're all supposed to get equal time but when there's 20 receivers alone, it's just not going to happen. If I go in once, I'll be one happy camper. Someone said that there already was a list made up, and I'm sure I'm not one of them. It was made before the practice, and this just reinforced it. I promise though, I don't mean to whine. If you think I joined up because I was actually good, you're sadly mistaken. I suck and I know it. I'm just there for a good time.
But if you're bored on Monday the 21st, come out and watch us. We normally get a pretty packed house, will all the guys just wanting to watch girls play football and all the girls trying to see the Seniors get their asses whipped. Plus all the parents. But if you come, bring some dollars 'cause it costs something because all the money goes to Breast Cancer. So it's for a good cause. And if you do decide coming is the thing to do, make sure you bring a sign that is neon-pink with orange letters screaming, "ALEX PARK IS A BEAST!" Just kidding, but keep it in mind....lol.
Make sure you support the JUNIORS of '07 because we're great.
And some chocolate covered pretzels are calling my name so I'll give you another interesting story some other day!
P.S. If you know anything at football and are willing to coach a short, bad-catching Junior, leave a comment. Or just leave your support. Comments are always appreciated!
So, anyways. Today was the first practice. There are three practices for two hours. Do you expect us to be any good? I figure the Seniors are always better because they got three more practices than the Juniors...Even if it was a year ago. So I decided that I should be a receiver. Can I catch you ask? On a good day. Can I throw? God, NO! Any wonder I didn't try out for quarterback? I realize I'm fast...So if by some un-Godly chance the ball gets thrown to me, and , even more unlikely, I catch it, chances are I can out-run most people. It's the catching stuff that gets me. We learned the Hitch, Slant, and, well, I can't remember the other one, but it's the one when you fake down the sideline and I'm pretty sure it starts with 'F.' The Hitch and Slant I can do, but the other one? Oh, man. We were practicing them (along with which side you had to go on...That was confusing if anything ever was), and one of our coaches (all the Junior football players took it upon themselves to try to teach us), Marcus, decided that I should do the long one just so he could throw the ball down field to hit one of his friends. That was great. But our coaches were really nice. Todd told everyone they did good, even those who sucked *cough, me cough*, and gave a genuine effort to teach us the right thing. Marcus just kind of supported him and was a laugh. I told Marcus that I was not a quarterback after my attempt at throwing the ball back at Todd and all he said was, "I think everyone has figured that out by now." Just smile and nod...
Then we tackled defense. Ha! That was great. I am not someone who can tackle at will. I am not someone who can even try to stay with someone. It just doesn't work. That's all I need to say about defense. I'm an offender and that's that.
Actually, the most fun was when they threw the ball down the field and everyone had to try and get the ball. It always ends up in a huge freaking pile-up, when everyone just jumps on each other, really. Hence the name "Tackle the man." But I got there first, but being a munchkin, I sorta got picked up...And someone ran off with it. I was also the one at the bottom of the pile, getting there first. That was quite fun, let me tell you. It was sort of a negative.
But maybe everyone else is good. We're supposed to get equal time, but somehow the groups got put into 'popular' and 'not.' I was part of 'not.' Laz, the actual coach, said that we're all supposed to get equal time but when there's 20 receivers alone, it's just not going to happen. If I go in once, I'll be one happy camper. Someone said that there already was a list made up, and I'm sure I'm not one of them. It was made before the practice, and this just reinforced it. I promise though, I don't mean to whine. If you think I joined up because I was actually good, you're sadly mistaken. I suck and I know it. I'm just there for a good time.
But if you're bored on Monday the 21st, come out and watch us. We normally get a pretty packed house, will all the guys just wanting to watch girls play football and all the girls trying to see the Seniors get their asses whipped. Plus all the parents. But if you come, bring some dollars 'cause it costs something because all the money goes to Breast Cancer. So it's for a good cause. And if you do decide coming is the thing to do, make sure you bring a sign that is neon-pink with orange letters screaming, "ALEX PARK IS A BEAST!" Just kidding, but keep it in mind....lol.
Make sure you support the JUNIORS of '07 because we're great.
And some chocolate covered pretzels are calling my name so I'll give you another interesting story some other day!
P.S. If you know anything at football and are willing to coach a short, bad-catching Junior, leave a comment. Or just leave your support. Comments are always appreciated!
Wednesday, November 02, 2005
Open War
I have declared open warfare on 1/3 up to 1/2 of my household. My father has decided that Spanish class is brilliant work, even through my mother and I insist that Isreal is, indeed, a nutcase. That, no matter how many times you say it, or try it, learning about how to put your suitcase in a baggage claim in a Spanish-speaking country, I will never care about the words dealing with an airport in Spanish. Never.
The whole point of this is that this weekend, the entire Park Clan is going up to visit my sister. And I'm not saying 'the clan' figuratively, oh no. My grandparents and my aunt and uncle are coming down with us. We're staying in my other uncle's house. The entire clan. Now, don't get me wrong, I love my family. It's just, I don't want to be driving down the Turnpike with an entire slew of cars behind us, looking like a bloody caravan. No thanks. I don't mind that they're coming, it is Carinne's birthday after all, but right now, more than ever, I wish I could take a vacation away from my family. Go to Mexico with my friends. If I had the money, I would definitely want to. Anyone want to pay the way for a girl to go to Mexico? Anyone? At all? Oh well, it was worth a shot.
You're probably wondering how Spanish class fits into all of this, hmm? Oh, it's good stuff. Well, because my father felt generous, actually he probably wanted to miss the traffic, he offered to get us out of school at noon. Now, the rest of the paragraph goes with the 'fortuanetly' 'unfortunately' book that everyone reads in second grade. Fortunately, I'm in Spanish at noon. Unfortunately, one of my brothers is in-between classes at noon and the other is in lunch. My dad said that he would pick them up first and me last. I told him to pick me up early, at 11:30 and I can go pick them up at the end of the period. Oh no. That would be the smart thing to do. The rest of the conversation gets very angry and ends with, "I've made my decision and that's final. If you want to argue anymore, Alex, I will only get angry."
"FINE! Fine! Make me miserable! Make me miss the only three classes I actually like! Make me suffer through the hellish class dubbed 'Spanish Four.' " (Ok, so I improvised here, but you get the picture.)
"If you want to go to those classes so much you can have a whole day and stay home for the weekend!" If I was intelligent, I would have said fine and proceeded to have a party after all had left. But, as all of you know, I am not smart. The thrilling idea didn't occur to me until I was driving Cameron to swimming, but I wish I was just a bit quicker. Like 45 minutes quicker.
So that is my tirade against Spanish, Ms. Isreal, and my father. But, oh no! The whining continues! It's like one of those bad movies, it just won't end. Anyways....
My little brother, the angel, as most of the world sees him, is a crapface. And that's being nice. He did not want to go to swim practice so badly that he would not drop it until I flipped out and started yelling. This is after the Spanish incident, of course. So my blood pressure is high enough anyways, add a whiney 12 year old who has the world at their beck and call. (Older siblings, don't the youngest ones on your nerves? Youngest ones, don't piss off the older ones, they will eventually get payback...somehow. Remember, our older brains can think of payback in ways you can't fathom. Ok, so we try but then you tell on us and we get in trouble again. Middle children, get out while you still can. You never win. Beleive me, I know. You're not their first baby, nor their last baby, you're just baby. And that's not good.) Then he called my parents so he could get his way. Wonderful.
Gah. I know reading about someone bitching is not so fun, but I had to get this out and all of my friends know how angry I am. Maybe anger management might be a good idea....I already tried screaming into a pillow. No result except my throat hurts. If you have any good suggestions on releasing my-family-is-driving-me-up-the-wall anger, please need a comment. And anything short of a long vacation to Aruba, I will be willing to try.
So until next time, I'll hopefully figure out how to put some pictures of my beautiful new car (which I'm already grounded from, cringe) and maybe this weekend. I just need to figure out how.
The whole point of this is that this weekend, the entire Park Clan is going up to visit my sister. And I'm not saying 'the clan' figuratively, oh no. My grandparents and my aunt and uncle are coming down with us. We're staying in my other uncle's house. The entire clan. Now, don't get me wrong, I love my family. It's just, I don't want to be driving down the Turnpike with an entire slew of cars behind us, looking like a bloody caravan. No thanks. I don't mind that they're coming, it is Carinne's birthday after all, but right now, more than ever, I wish I could take a vacation away from my family. Go to Mexico with my friends. If I had the money, I would definitely want to. Anyone want to pay the way for a girl to go to Mexico? Anyone? At all? Oh well, it was worth a shot.
You're probably wondering how Spanish class fits into all of this, hmm? Oh, it's good stuff. Well, because my father felt generous, actually he probably wanted to miss the traffic, he offered to get us out of school at noon. Now, the rest of the paragraph goes with the 'fortuanetly' 'unfortunately' book that everyone reads in second grade. Fortunately, I'm in Spanish at noon. Unfortunately, one of my brothers is in-between classes at noon and the other is in lunch. My dad said that he would pick them up first and me last. I told him to pick me up early, at 11:30 and I can go pick them up at the end of the period. Oh no. That would be the smart thing to do. The rest of the conversation gets very angry and ends with, "I've made my decision and that's final. If you want to argue anymore, Alex, I will only get angry."
"FINE! Fine! Make me miserable! Make me miss the only three classes I actually like! Make me suffer through the hellish class dubbed 'Spanish Four.' " (Ok, so I improvised here, but you get the picture.)
"If you want to go to those classes so much you can have a whole day and stay home for the weekend!" If I was intelligent, I would have said fine and proceeded to have a party after all had left. But, as all of you know, I am not smart. The thrilling idea didn't occur to me until I was driving Cameron to swimming, but I wish I was just a bit quicker. Like 45 minutes quicker.
So that is my tirade against Spanish, Ms. Isreal, and my father. But, oh no! The whining continues! It's like one of those bad movies, it just won't end. Anyways....
My little brother, the angel, as most of the world sees him, is a crapface. And that's being nice. He did not want to go to swim practice so badly that he would not drop it until I flipped out and started yelling. This is after the Spanish incident, of course. So my blood pressure is high enough anyways, add a whiney 12 year old who has the world at their beck and call. (Older siblings, don't the youngest ones on your nerves? Youngest ones, don't piss off the older ones, they will eventually get payback...somehow. Remember, our older brains can think of payback in ways you can't fathom. Ok, so we try but then you tell on us and we get in trouble again. Middle children, get out while you still can. You never win. Beleive me, I know. You're not their first baby, nor their last baby, you're just baby. And that's not good.) Then he called my parents so he could get his way. Wonderful.
Gah. I know reading about someone bitching is not so fun, but I had to get this out and all of my friends know how angry I am. Maybe anger management might be a good idea....I already tried screaming into a pillow. No result except my throat hurts. If you have any good suggestions on releasing my-family-is-driving-me-up-the-wall anger, please need a comment. And anything short of a long vacation to Aruba, I will be willing to try.
So until next time, I'll hopefully figure out how to put some pictures of my beautiful new car (which I'm already grounded from, cringe) and maybe this weekend. I just need to figure out how.
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