Slice of Life: 11/29/14

      I feel my stomach bulge as I swallow another gargantuan mix of homey, rich food. It is impossible to not enjoy Thanksgiving, no matter how uncomfortable you feel afterwards. It is the one day of the year where it is not only tolerated to stuff your face with mounds of calories, but it is actually expected! Despite my thin appearance, I try to eat as much food as I can during any meal, hoping one day my body will finally use the calories to grow. Because of this, I am always hopeful going into Thanksgiving dinner that today will be the day when I will put on a few extra pounds.

          Dinner is drawing to a close, and the three others at the table (my close family) have finished eating. I try not to acknowledge the fact that they are all staring at me, and stuff my mouth with more turkey and gravy. After more eating, my plate is scraped clean, and I set my fork down. Before anyone can say something like "Let's clean up." or "Man I'm full," I reached into the bowl of mashed potatoes with my spoon, and scooped some out. I could tell everyone really wanted me to stop eating. Therefor, I had to amuse them.

          I took the mashed potatoes on my plate, which would have made about four regular fork-fulls, and balanced it all on my fork. Slowly I lifted it up to my mouth, and tried to fit them all inside. It took a couple of attempts, but I was able to do it, and left myself looking a bit too much like a chipmunk. Struggling to keep them in my mouth, I looked around at my family, and we all started to laugh.

          If there is one thing I learned from today, it is that it's hard to laugh with an over-stuffed mouth of mashed potatoes.

Slice of Life 11-21-14

       I am utterly and completely lost. The parents on the bleachers clap and cheer, the coaches on the benches yell out commands, and shoes squeak on the wood floor, and I hardly know what to do. My first basketball game... ever has been going fine, but I still have a ton of work to do to be half as good as some of the kids. The game is much more repetitive than soccer which I have always played. Back and forth. Back and forth. I scramble to get to my position each time we get the ball and lose it. Everything is loud, confusing, and stressful.

        I am running up and down the baseline, frantically trying to get open for the large orange ball, knowing that I am making no impact on the game what-so-ever. The ball is being passed around the three-point line, as our team is attempting to make a break-though. The ball is swung around to the other side, and accidentally bounces out of bounds. Time to defend. I am running backwards to our side of the court when suddenly my heel contacted Adrian's foot an knocked me off balance. Trying not to fall over, I increased my running speed, trying to get my feet under neath me. I forget the game as I completely lose my center of balance, and fall backwards, landing all of my momentum on my wrist, and everyone on the court burst into laughter.

       I didn't notice the pain at first, as I was lifting myself up from the pretty embarrassing fall I just had. It seemed as though as soon as the laughter on my team's bench died down, I felt a sharp and uncomfortable pain shooting up from my wrist, and I realized this might be a bit more than embarrassing.

Slice of Life 11-15-14

    I find refuge under the warm, soft sheets of the hotel bed, not even bothering to take off my winter coat. I lay there for a moment, before finally coming to my senses and leave my survival-instinct state of mind. I see flashes of memories from moments before: slush on the side walk, homeless people savaging from trash cans, and cold yet dazzled people silhouetted by grand city lights. My mother and I had walked through the center of downtown to pick up our dinner from an Asian restaurant, and returned back to our hotel, desperate to vacate the negative temperatures of outside.
     If I forgot about my numb face and stiff joints, the walk was incredibly enjoyable and beautiful. However, I was much happier to enjoy the city's view from the warmth of the fourteenth floor of the Marriot Hotel. I soon brushed back my sheets and sat up, taking in the harsh reality that I would have to leave the hotel the next morning.
     

Slice of Life: 11-5-14

    My heart beats and stomach tightens as I trot on to the well cut grass, preparing for the match. Pre-game jitters are a common occurrence not just for me, but everyone else on my team because we all are aware of the importance of the games we play. My cleats shift smoothly through the blades of grass, making an interesting and satisfying sound that I know all too well. I always remember the small gap in time when our warm-up ends and the game begins, in my world it feels like a gap in time.

    I have played and enjoyed the game of soccer (or football) for as long as I can remember, and it has become a very large portion of both my lifestyle and my personality. It is times like this (the gaps in space and time) that are the strangest part of the game for me, because I have a feeling of both nervousness and excitement. I am nervous to let my team down, but excited to preform well- as if mind is preparing itself for both situations and planning what it would do in each of them. I get to my position on the field... in front of the defenders and behind the attackers, where I truly feel at home.

    I feel the ten other players on my team surround me, forming little triangles and shapes between them, which is needed to be a good attacking team. Everything that we need to play a game is slowly forming as we are coming to the end of the gap in time. We have the kickoff- a good thing for putting the opposition under pressure. The ball is placed on the spot. Two of my players stand over it. Slow motion turns to fast as finally the game will start. The scream of the referee's whistle cuts through the air, and we have officially reentered the space-time continuum.      
   

Slice of Life 31/31!!

Ode about the Mental Approach to Life

     People have different ways of thinking about things, and different ways of thinking about things they do.

     In the age that I am experiencing now, many are figuring out how they think about things, and what to do.

     For some, they think about things in a wise way, and keep to themselves.

     For others, they don't think about what they are doing a whole lot, and burst out with energy.

     Both can help any situation,

     And both can be happy and sad.

     

     To get out of a sad moment, there is one thing that always works: If something touches you.

    

     Not physically touches you, and not something that reminds you of something else,

     But something that reminds you of yourself.

     Something that you can relate to.

     These two different types of people can come in lots of forms,
     And think about things, and do things very differently.
     Some hate themselves for everything they do,
     And some love themselves for everything they do.

     Some hate others for things they do.
     Some love others for things they do.
     And some don't fit any of those categories.

     Some find light in everything, and bring light to others,
     And some do the opposite.

     Yet even those who do the opposite can find light in things, relate to things, be touched by things.

     There are those of us who ponder these topics, searching for things that can bring the light out of everything.
     We wonder if there is something that can help everyone.
     We wonder what helps each individual person.
     We wonder if it is possible to touch everyone.

     So, in my pondering, Everyone has a perfect way of approaching life.
     Yours is perfect.
     His is perfect.
     Hers is perfect.
     Because everyone can be touched.

     And I hope I have touched you.

     Happy end of SOLSC everyone!!!

Slice of Life 30/31

   I slowly massage my legs, trying to get them to stop aching from my adventure earlier today. Spring Break has just recently started and my mom and older sister just left to go on a trip to Italy partly for my mom's work, declaring it was strictly girls-only. My dad and I then struggled with deciding what to do, because we wanted to somehow top Italy. We realized that that is pretty much impossible, so we wanted to try some new things back home in Colorado. Then, last night after a Colorado Rapids game we left for Vail, trying to get back into skiing.
    I know, I know... you are thinking: What am doing, living in Colorado and not going skiing all of the time? I asked myself the same question, and I guess it is just because my family is really busy all of the time.
    However, I did not go skiing, but I went snowboarding for the first time, which (from what I remember when I skied when I was little) is a lot more fun than skiing. I had a personal lesson-thingy, which i usually don't enjoy but my instructor was nice and understanding. His name was Paul, and he was a childish, funny, and helpful when I was snowboarding with him- he is the kind of man I want to grow up to be (minus the childish thing). I thought I did pretty good at snowboarding for my first time, and I also had some pretty good wipe-outs.
    Bruises cover most of my body, but they are good bruises. You know they are good bruises when you get them doing either a good thing or a fun thing, and I just did a very fun thing.
    After the snowboarding, dad and I walked back to the little condo and had lunch. I now find myself sitting on the couch in our condo eating chips, watching a March Madness game and doing absolutely nothing else. The massaging helps, and I stop to lean back and savor the sweet simple moment.
   I now realize three things:
   I love my dad,
   I love snowboarding,
   and I love Spring Break.

Slice of Life 29/31

     I hear a great hum as I walk into the seating area, and the claustrophobia goes away. Inside the corridor where food is sold and where the bathrooms are it was shoulder-to-shoulder, everyone trying to get to their seats as fast as possible. We finally got to our section in the historic field, and made our way to the seats. Walking down the concrete stairs was an interesting sensation, because I furthered away from my family, but got closer to my heroes.
     I do and will always believe that Arsenal is the best soccer team in England, and are contending to be the best in Europe. Ever since I knew there was an English Premier League I knew there was the Arsenal, and I knew they were my favorite team. This winter my family and I left home in Colorado to fly out to one of the best cities in it world- London, and see our relatives. Before we see them, however, we get to have some fun and somehow my dad got us tickets to watch Arsenal play against an easy team- Cardiff City. Better yet, we managed to get tickets right next to the sideline, which made it harder to see the field, but made it a lot easier to see the players. That is because the Arsenal bench is fifteen feet away from our seats. I feel energized and excited as I get deeper into the stadium, going ahead of my family and skipping to the seats. Our seats are A-5 though A-9. A-5, A-5, I repeat the instructions in my head.
     Finally the seats emerge, and they are closer than I thought they would be to the bench. Before admiring the situation, I settle into the my seat of A-9 and put the game program down. The seats are still wet from the constant shower London suffers, but I don't care. I sit back and look ahead. Just in front of me are the Arsenal team, warming up for the game.
     I recognize each and every one. I am used to seeing professional players at games, but not these. These are celebrities. World wide known people, and I am sitting right next to them. This is going to be a fun night.
     My family eventually joins me, and we wait for the stadium to get louder and louder in the anticipation of world-class soccer.