Fling into Spring

It's coming...

School dance.

<----Last night's purchase. Yeah... Just imagine it with straps and without the dorky flower. I don't like flowers [or dresses, really].

Oh, and the heels won't be so tall... They call me Grace for a reason. And I won't look half as good as the girl in the picture--not really the tall, thing modely type. Or anywhere near tan.

Spring Fling, tomorrow night. I'll be buying shoes 30 minutes before, and I'll have my hair finished just before that.

Procrastination? Of course. It's a dance.

Further updates: Electronic "Baby" totally SUCKED this past weekend, and I'm still fighting that virus from the 13th. I'm just glad it's not pneumonia.

Tomorrow, AP History presentation on WWII, and dance. Saturday night, Blue Man Group. Sunday, DI and homework.

And lots of sleeping in between all of that. :)

Abbs is [exhausted, and] OUT.

The Empire Strikes Back!

Well, maybe not an empire. But its vocal capacity makes me feel like I'm sitting in a theater, watching Star Wars.

This is my "baby weekend," and I've already flipped my lid once. See, I picked up my little Ailbe [don't even ask about the name, I'll explain later] on Thursday after school, because my teacher was going to be absent the next day and it was just more convenient.

Ha. Convenient. Nothing is convenient with this bundle of joy.

Anyway, my teacher "programmed" it on a 24-hour delay. It wasn't supposed to start fussing until Friday, 2:30 pm. Ha.

So I get in my house, I set down the car seat, and I leave the room for less than half a minute. Guess who starts bawling? You get three guesses, and the first two don't count. :)

So I run downstairs, completely flustered after going to school with the flu. I try everything--but it won't even respond to the key. If it doesn't beep when you put the key in its back, it doesn't particularly need anything, it just wants to be rocked and comforted.

I'm crying now because I'm so sick and so exhausted [and I'm a girl... That's what girls do in the face of crisis, they cry] and now this stupid, stupid, stupid plastic doll is screaming throughout my whole house. I yell at it, I yell at my dog [not sure why?] and I do what any self-respecting teenager in crisis would do.

I call my grandparents.

Living only 3 minutes away, they were there in a flash. Of course, my grandma got the thing to shut up after only a few minutes, but we decided to take it back up to the school to get it reprogrammed for the weekend.

I finally stop crying and we get ready to leave. Then the baby starts screaming again.

Once again, I start crying, but this time I'm too angry to just fall apart completely. I put a blanket over the speaker in its chest and rush out the door, eager to get back to the school to get it set right.

I catch my teacher just as she's leaving, but she very generously fixes the baby for me, and sends me home. I am forever in her debt. Forever.

From 4 pm to 5 pm, this little one cried 4 times [every 20 minutes, in case anyone cares]. But they were short cries, and all I had to do was pick her up and she stopped. After 5, she didn't cry again. I barely slept, convinced that I was hearing that robotic wailing all night long...

I know exactly why I got a fussy one, too--It's because I've said all along that I really don't like kids that much. Somehow it heard me, and it's striking back, showing me the range of its mind-boggling powers. I'm in awe of of the noise an 18-inch doll can make.

Let me try to explain the noise level. Imagine throwing rocks at a wall of aluminum cans, and then turning on every single jackhammer in the country simultaneously. On top of that, there's this infernal screeching, the "scream-cry" that we're supposed to try to prevent [it means they're in virtual pain]. Gah.

Today I'm home sick again, feeling like roadkill. Whoever ran me over with that darn cement truck is going to pay, and I know just the way to arrange such punishment.

Young moms are always looking for a babysitter. :D

-Abbs is [spent, and] OUT.

Obsession?

Okay, so there's this book. It's called Twilight.

But my sister and I call it "The Bible," and we keep it by our bedsides.

I'm seriously obsessed. I read at least a line from it every night, or if I've finished it again, I'll pick up its sequel--New Moon. Both are equally perfect and enough to quench my addiction.

If I don't read it before I go to sleep, I don't sleep. Simple as that. I stay up all night, my mind wandering, my eyes wide open. I've read Twilight maybe 13 times, and New Moon about 7, just because I can't put them down.

Sure, I've read other books. But none of them compare. None of them are as addicting.

And I know why, too. It's because of the characters. I fell in love with all of the main characters the first time I read it, particularly Edward [face it, he's quite lovable]. He's a beautiful vampire, in love with a danger-magnet human girl.

Well, it's either the characters, or there's crack in the pages. I really hope it's the characters--I don't have time for illegal substances. Or any desire to engage in such activity.

But the obsession has gone so far that my sis and I have picked our character counterparts, based on their actions and "special gifts." I'm Jasper [he can change the emotions of those around him] and Bella, who is not only described to look a lot like me but also reads a lot and trips over everything. My sister is Edward--he reads other people's thoughts, something she does all too often--and Alice, who can see the future, another trait my sister demonstrates frequently.

It's scary. I am highly perceptive to the emotions of the those around me [a gift and a curse all in one] and I trip over things more than your average human. My sister reads minds, particularly mine, and dreams of things that happen later in life. It's really eerie, especially when it's completely silent and all of a sudden she and I will say the same exact sentence with identical inflection...

Of course, there's others who fit the other characters. Kailey is Esme because she's the motherly type and loves others. Two of our acquaintances fit the role of Rosalie, whose tenacity ends her in trouble most of the time. Bindito is Emmett, the big brother that neither my sister nor I have biologically. And we're still looking for a Carlisle.

Like I said, obsessed. I call her Eddie, and she calls me Jasp. But it makes us happy. And who knows? Maybe it'll do us some good one day, thinking like this, relating characters to real life. And the whole emotion-altering thing makes life a whole lot easier for me...

I suppose, though, that the addiction is bad. As I said, crack pages. Heavily embedded crack pages.

-Abbs is [reading Twilight again, and] out.

I Have Died...

...and this is hell.

Pain, puking, coughing, and an all-day AP history project.

Dear God. I'm going to lose my mind. Not like I had one to begin with, but now it's really gone.

And the worst part? After I meet the girls at the library, I'm stuck here all alone. Alone to wallow in how awful I feel and to wish somebody was here with me.

My advice? Stay away from sick people. And AP history classes.

-Abbs is [nauseous, and] out.

Control Freak vs. Self-Control

I'll let you guess which one I hate.

Let's say you want to avoid feeling jealousy because your boyfriend or girlfriend is friends with other girls/boys (respectively). You can either:

A) Make sure your bf/gf [those are abbreviations, for the over-20 generation] does not EVER MAKE ANY KIND OF CONTACT with those of the opposite sex. That means you make sure the threats are there and that those girls aren't calling your guy EVER, or vice versa. So you turn into a control freak and become the psycho girlfriend/boyfriend. Nice. Or you can

B) CONTROL YOUR OWN EMOTIONS and not let simple, platonic friendships get in the way of your relationship. Real "lovers" aren't jealous.

Once again, you pick which one I think is best.

So all you insanely jealous folk out there, get over yourselves. If the guy or girl you're with feels like they want to cheat on you, maybe the whole relationship isn't worth your time.

And remember--girls and guys can be friends without intimacy developing. Trust me. It's completely possible.

With a frustrated sigh, Abbs is out.

Heartbreak

I'm not one to cry often (not where anyone can see, anyway), but I am crying right now.

I don't understand how any kind of God or higher power could take the life of a strong, healthy 12-year-old boy without any warning or reason.

Rest in peace, Tyler Teasdale. You probably didn't remember me, but I remember you. And to your family, your sister--you might not remember me either, but my heart goes out to you. I cannot even begin to imagine what you're going through. My brother is just a month older than Tyler, and if I lost him... God, I wouldn't be able to handle it. I may not pray very often, but the prayers I do say are now for you.

And to my own family and friends, the people I can't live without--never forget how loved you are. Never.

-a very lost abigail.

Regionals results

The scores are in:

2nd place overall.

1st in central challenge, 2nd in side trips, and 3rd in instant challenge. I'm liking this.

Raw score for central was 202 out of 240 [in DI terms, that's pretty good] and 52 out of 60 for side trips [again, very nice].

Thanks a million to our fan club [Sole Patrol] for everything they do to support us. :)

And here's to the team, without whom there would be no skit. I love you guys <3

Oh, and by the way... I'm now a striking shade of "fake-tan" pink/orange/red. It's interesting.

Goodnight.

A Dorky Dissection of "Cool" (and a few pointers)

They can teach you every equation in the book, every date for historical events, and every part of speech, but the truth is, teachers can't teach you how to be cool.

I'm not talking about being "popular" or "with the times." I'm talking about being collected, your movements graceful and natural, being "on top of things," if you will. High school is all about making yourself look good--not only to the opposite sex [juvenile giggle] but also to your teachers and administrators so they'll 1) let things slide if you do get in trouble and 2) not mess with you because you're confident.

If you give off an air of being calm and collected, soon you can become it. You can be confident just by pretending to be. We teenagers try our hardest to make everything look easy for us [and so do you adults, I've noticed]. We just want to look good.

And nothing ruins a look like making an awkward move in public.

You all know what I'm talking about. There are times in life when you suddenly feeling awkward, unbalanced, off-step... Like after running into a door. You're pretty embarrassed [whether you'll admit it or not] and you have to somehow cope.

Teachers can't teach you how be cool and collected enough to handle such humiliating situations. However, as someone who strives for grace and confidence, I've developed a few pointers [along with some help from my faithful friends].

Let's start with the basics, simple maneuvers like the Casual Recovery After Pole/Door. Yes, I'm aware that the acronym is CRAPD. But considering that the words in one's head after such a collision may somewhat resemble "crap" [or other words] I felt it necessary to leave it be.

The Situation: You're walking through a crowded hallway, students pouring at you from every direction. You think you hear someone call your name, so you turn to look.

And you run face-first into a pole. Or a door.

Naturally, it hurts. You just smashed your nose into a stationary object. But you cannot let your peers know this--you have to be cool. There are three options for a reaction that fall under the category of "cool":

1) Cough loudly and make it look like you're sick. Nobody will bother you if you look delusional from a terrible head cold. Not only because they feel bad, but also because they don't want to be anywhere near you to catch what you've got.

2) Turn around sharply and glare at whoever's behind you, laying the blame on them without saying a word. Of course, you may feel bad that you just blamed an innocent bystander for your stupid accident, but there's not time for remorse. If you get lucky, you'll be standing in front of someone you don't know, and they'll forget all about it in no time. If you get lucky.

3) Just keep walking, pretending as if nothing happened. Chances are, everyone around you wasn't paying attention anyway, so your blunder went unnoticed. Of course, if someone asks you about it later, laugh hard and make fun of yourself momentarily. But not for too long--confidence doesn't dwell on past mistakes.

See? Easy. But that's the easiest one.

We now move on to Casual Turn-Around, Mid-Hallway. No clever acronym for this one, but it is considerably vital if you want to look collected.

The Situation: You're heading down yet another hallway when you suddenly realize you're going the wrong way. Time before the next bell is running out, and though you could make it to your next class on time, you'd have to turn around right now.

Of course, you're surrounded by people. And these people are like salmon, all moving in one direction and only one direction, completely unforgiving to anyone who tries to go the other way.

If you turn around, they're going to notice. And SOMEONE is going to laugh.

So what do you do? Well, start with a shocked look. Let this false look of realization spread across your face and make your eyes wide, as if you'd never made such a mistake before. Turn abruptly and cry "Oh!" as if something going on behind you is terribly interesting and you wouldn't want to miss it for the world.

Now comes the tricky part: the walking run. You want to appear to be moving fast, returning to that "interesting" subject behind you, but you don't want to be going too fast or you'll look, well, stupid. So you get going in that little walking run, moving just below the speed of a jog with an intense look of concentration plastered on your face.

Turn-around complete. Mission over. Congratulations, you've survived a very dangerous situation.

Those two moves, the CRAPD and Casual Turn-Around may seem simple, almost stupidly easy. But you'd be surprised how many times in one day I see someone look like an oaf just because they didn't remember the rules of cool. The rules of confidence. The rules that guide all human beings to looking graceful [even if they're really not].

There is one last technique, one that took me a great deal of time to master. It is the most difficult yet, the one that I struggled with the most, and now I pass it on to you.

Bus riding.

If you've never experienced a school bus first-hand, let me give you a brief synopsis. Bus drivers never start out slow; it's always pedal to the metal within half a second of the light turning green. There are also no speed limits for buses; if you can get it to go 70, that's your limit. I know it sounds unbelievable, but trust me. They can go 70.

The drivers also tend to not apply the brake when turning. You see, it's faster [and also quite life-threatening] to simply plow through the turns and hit a few curbs rather than hit that untouched brake pedal. So that's what they do. They fly. And if you've ever been in a bus when it's coasting on two wheels, you can understand my fear.

So you're trapped in an enormous yellow rectangle, traveling down a busy suburban street, going around 60 and not braking on turns. There are no seat belts, and the seats are barely wide enough for two people and books and the usual backpack to sit.

What do you do?

Unless you can instantly grow a third arm, the following precautions must be taken to avoid falling out of your seat, dropping your books or belongings on the floor, or even on occasion flying around the bus.

1) Both feet on the floor, absorbing the turns. Use your legs to keep your books on your lap balanced while turning. If you turn left, incline your heel and raise your left leg slightly; do the opposite for the right. Though the bus is now on a severe angle, your books/other items will not be tempted by gravity to fall.

2) One hand always at the ready in front of your face. At the slightest sign of body shifting, quickly move your hand forward and plant it into the seatback in front of you. Avoid the sections of the seat that are spongy--you'll fall anyway. Look for non-caving seat portions and make sure you push your hand forward with all your strength. Of course, this exercise may hurt in the beginning, as your arm and shoulder aren't used to the intense pressure, but it's a worthwhile measure. It's saved my life a few times, I can promise you that.

3) Keep your spare hand firmly attached to any belongings that don't lie flat as books do, like iPods, water bottles, or lunches. You don't want to lose these, either; once it's gone, it's gone. And there's nothing you can do to rescue your lost items, unless your driver finds them and offers them to the general bus-riding public. Then you can fight for them, I suppose.

4) If you're riding on the aisle, you get an extra task. Though your feet/legs are responsible for keeping your books aligned with the earth, your leg closest to the aisle must also keep its respective half of your body on the seat. On the seat in front of you, there should be a pole near the aisle, holding the seat up. Balance your foot against this pole and hope to God that your shoes aren't slippery, or else you'll be spending the majority of the ride on the floor. Joy.

So those techniques may save you on the bus. Be prepared for unexpected moves--bus drivers are known for those. Tricky little buggers...

I love watching adults on school buses. It's like they forget how to use their limbs, and they fall all over the place. Don't be one of those adults. Save yourself now, and learn to be cool.

Cool. A trait strived for by many, including myself. The only way to achieve such "coolness" is to be confident and collected, graceful and strong in your movements while at the same time appearing to be doing everything with ease. It's a hard task, but I'm sure the world is up to it.

Maybe some time later this month I'll cover the art of Stablizing Hold of In-arm Things. Let's not even begin to discuss the acronym of that one.

Oh, and if this is sounding a lot like common sense... You're right. It is. So explain to me why I see so many people looking like idiots on a daily basis.

...Abbs is [a dork, and] OUT.

The Best of Times [for me, anyway]

Today was an amazing day for me, so I felt like posting. A day like today deserves to be put into words, and it may bore you, but it means a lot to me.

Let me start from the beginning [5:23 AM]. My alarm was somewhat quieter this morning, less like an ambulance siren and more like a gentle beeping; I got a decent amount of sleep, an unusual occurence for me, so I woke up feeling, well, awake. My hair cooperated and my iPod didn't take too long to load, so by the time I got to the bus stop I was in a good mood.

I didn't slip on the ice like I usually do as I approached the bus, and the driver didn't try to kill us all as she normally does with her loose interpretation of "safe driving." She drove perhaps only 15 mph over the speed limit and actually used the brake on turns. :D

The lock didn't give me a hard time at my locker, and I got to see almost all of my friends before the 2-minute bell rang and I had to go to first hour. Surprisingly, my parenting class wasn't terrible today, and even my second hour Algebra II wasn't boring. Things were looking up as I trudged to Chem.

Of course, we were doing a lab today [when aren't we doing a lab??] and I was put in a good group. Though there was a slight incident involving pants and fire, all was well. We had fun. And that's really all that matters, right? Right...

Fourth hour Honors English was fun--we had an enormous, all-hour class discussion as a pre-reading technique for Brave New World. I came up with TWO logical arguments [I'd like a round of applause, if you will] and actually found a way to get the words out of my mouth AND have them make sense at the same time. I was proud.

Spanish was, well, Spanish. Easy. And AP History was actually interesting. I left my sixth hour with only one subject of homework, and once again I was in a good mood.

The usual "freshmen posse" that convenes near my locker [and drives me absolutely insane] was gone, and I caught my bus with time to spare. I ended up with a window seat, the ideal seating arrangement for me. I hate being on the aisle.

It seemed as if the driver had forgotten her laid-back driving this morning, so she revved up the engine and took off onto the main road, leaving us two options: 1) hang on and pray that you or your books won't go flying across the way, or 2) not hang on and pray that you'll make it anyway. I hung on. There is an art to such "hanging on" but that will have to be saved for another post.

But my good mood could not be killed--I walked around the short block to my home and got the mail. Of course, a never-ending supply of letters from colleges I've never even heard of came pouring from the mailbox [how do they know me??], but I managed to balance them all without dropping a single one. And I got a nifty poster from Duke. Not that I'm going to Duke, but I like posters.

Oh, and as a side note: exactly one month until my birthday. :D

I came inside, let my dog out into the backyard, checked my email [only ONE spam letter to delete!], and now I'm sitting here, eating Doritos and posting.

All of my happiness today may seem strange to you; why would anyone be happy over such trivial events? Well, I am. I'm happy. Nothing seemed to go wrong today, and I'm so excited for DI regionals tomorrow I could run around screaming.

Which I might just do next [after I do another post about the art of bus riding & other skills]. If you're driving by my house in awhile and hear a blood-curdling shriek, don't worry. It's just Abby.

Hope your days were as good as mine :)
~Abbsigail