Stream of Consciousness -- Once More!

Hello everyone! I just realized that it would be such a terrible shame if this blog lost momentum again. That would be so nasty. Kind of like what you'd imagine Godzilla's dirty laundry to smell like. Anywho, I can't think of anything to post, so I just thought I would make this up as I go along. You know, write whatever's on my mind.

While the first thing that popped into my mind was a brain floating in a pickle jar, the image quickly changed to two ballerinas dancing over the Alaskan tundra. Neither of those are particularly interesting converstation starters, I guess. I've never been good with conversation. Because of this, I generally let people approach me first. I will only approach someone first for a conversation if

1) Said someone is family
2) Said someone is a friend
3) Said someone is a talking lizard
4) Said someone is a very attractive member of the opposite sex.

Of course, 4 can only go so far. There is a certain threshold of cuteness, you see. If a boy is too cute, my brain shuts down and all I can do is giggle and gargle in his general direction. Like, I took my siblings out to Hardees for lunch, and I saw this really hunky army guy. Dang, was he a catch. We like totally made eye contact while I was getting lemonade from the fountain drink machine. But I couldn't say anything. He could have been my soul mate, darn it. Alas, it wasn't meant to be. So I drove off into the sunset, cursing my misfortune.

Speaking of cursing, apparently I can't drive without cursing at least once. I need to fix that. My issue will probably dwindle as my driving skills increase, and I therefore collide into less objects.

When I said "objects", I thought of a wind-up music box. What do you think when you hear the word "object"? It's interesting how the human mind works. Everyone thinks  differently. Scratch that. Most people think the same. For example, when I mentioned that there was a cute army guy earlier you probably imagined a tall, muscular lad with blond hair wearing camouflage fatigues. Not that it's bad that people think the same. It would be nice if we were all on the same page.

Speaking of pages, if I had a green tiger that would be really cool. I would be like, "Dude, I have a green tiger." And everyone would be jealous and wish that their tigers were green. But even better, I want an armadillo lizard. I mean, look at them!



I would name my lizard Amontillado. Everyone will be jealous that their exotic armadillo lizards aren't named Amontillado. I think that Amontillado should be our resident animal mascot.

SLOSHY THE KAPPA: Hey! What about me?

Sloshy, you're our resident mythical being mascot.

ALMONDO: What about me? I thought

Almondo, you're our resident fan-service mascot.

ALMONDO: I don't like Amontillado. His name is hard to say, but it's suspiciously similar to mine.

I grow bored of this. I need to talk about something else --



OMG SOCKS!!!!!!!! I <3 Socks!

I love cute socks almost as much as I love Batman-themed underwear. Woo! Go socks! Go! What do you think, Amontillado?

AMONTILLADO: ...

You know, I think you and another silent fellow would get along! Say hello, Potato!

POTATO: ...

AMONTILLADO: ...

POTATO: ....

AMONTILLADO: ...

OMG AMONTILLADO THE ARMADILLO LIZARD AND POTATO FOREVER! I <3 POTATOES AND LIZARDS!

We should have a wedding, yo! A totally awesome wedding!

Hmm, I don't remember eating this second ice cream sandwich. Did somebody put an empty wrapper on my desk when I wasn't looking?

It doesn't matter. I LOVE ice cream! Huzzah!

I'm going to tell you something very personal. It has to do with noses. And fear. It's a fear involving noses. You see, I'm afraid of standing above anyone because there is a chance that they will look up my nose. Good heavens, the things that could be in there. I mean, I have a clean nose. But I've seen some gross noses -- ew.

But I like ears. I have a thing for ears. Just look at ears. I could marry an ear. Don't judge me, okay? Everybody has a favorite body part, and I find ears to be absolutely adorable. I discovered this from a young age.

Feet make me mad, though. They are ugly, ugly things.  I have collapsed arches, a botched foot-surgery, and a couple other things that make it hard for me to walk every now and then. I would gladly trade my traitorous feet for a black man's. People would walk up to me and say,

"Child, are those black man feet?"

And I would say,

"Yes, yes they are."

Good times.

Imagine, me jogging across the beach with my new black man feet, smiling and laughing and tossing my hair. I would cast a flirtacious look at hunky military dude, and we would hold hands and run off together and I would finally have one of them "boyfriends" I always hear about. We would watch The Lord of the Rings and eat popcorn, and have a Nerf war afterwards. Hunk would let me win, though, because I suck at shooting things.

Good times, indeed.


Esther

Volleyball Comets (And a Little Life Update)

Greetings and salutations my delightful readers. I love you all so much that I should write a song about your glory. This song would come in second only to the songs I sing about my guinea pig's glory, but can you blame me?

He's perfect.

Anyway, I thought today I would elucidate my volleyball experience. V-ball is starting back up in my humble life, which is very exciting for me. This is an interesting development because to be frank, as a wee lass, I despised volleyball. I always thought the sport looked boring and ridiculous. Oh, how wrong I was! Volleyball might be the most interesting sport to play and watch ever!

You jump.



You dive.










You smack people in the face with a raging volleyball comet--yes, it is brilliant.

I started playing a year ago, and I was terrible. One year later, I have trained, evolved, and ...


Well, I'm still terrible. But my Ocean of Terrible has ebbed off of the shores of Hopelessness, and is now lapping happily against the Jagged Rock of Bliss while the little mermaid sings a brilliant tune about love. I'm sad that I only have one year left of volleyball; it it has been a delightful experience for me. Let's focus on my experience this year so far.

Volleyball was my motive for starting to get back into shape again. This inspired my The Blissful Horror That is Jogging blog post. So yeah, my first attempts to get in shape haven't worked out so well.

But a few weeks before practice began, I started working out again, and I feel great. I still have a ways to go, though. I have trouble catching my breath during exercise. I have always suspected that I have a weak heart and lungs, and it is in my genetics to have them. So I have been working a lot more on my cardiovascular workouts lately. I am able to catch my breath a lot faster now, and it is wonderful to know that murderous chicken with a hoe will have caught me because I tripped, and not because I ran out of air and started flapping around like a fish.

Still, I die during practice. I often feel like I demand my body during workouts, but during practice it's taken to a whole new level. I particularly loathe the conditioning practices, which are spent running you into the ground. I also cherish them, because they make me work harder than I thought possible. Sometimes it is frustrating to not go as fast as the other players, or not last as long as the sprinters, but I know that I will only improve from here.

Well, except for the speed part. I think I'll always run like someone with slugs for feet. (I'm going to blame the botched foot surgery for that one, but that would be making excuses)

In terms of skill, I think I have improved already this season. My setting (propelling the ball with your hands) has improved quite a bit, and I have gotten strong enough to almost get the ball over the net when I serve over hand.

Almost.

It's a funny story, at least to me. You see, I have a tendency to grunt when I serve the ball. I mean really grunt. One time, my coach told me to serve over hand.

COACH: Serve over hand!

ESTHER: Sure, okay!

(Esther tosses ball in the air and prepares to slap at it.)

ESTHER: HRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAH!

(Esther smacks the ball. It goes four feet.)

If only my arm was as strong as my grunts. I feel like an unsuccessful version of a Williams sister.

But yes, practices are going really well. I am very happy to have made friends on the team. They are all like a family to me. I really look forward to progressing through the year with them. Some players have left, and I miss them terribly, but I will persevere.
At this point I would like to thank my coach for all the hard work she does for the team. She has a busy life outside volleyball, and she still uses her time to allow us to gather together to play this lovely sport. You inspire me to work harder coach, and I hear your voice whenever I get up for practice in the morning: "Drink plenty of water at least an hour before practice!"

Wiser words have not been spoken.
--------

In other words, my novel is coming along again, finally. Up to 40k. I had to cut some things out and start over again, but I think I'm back on pace.

I am playing Final Fantasy IX. I'm on disc three. Having lots of fun! I'm not sure how high I should level up for parts though, which is frustrating.

I'm also reading a book called We Need To Talk About Kevin, which is hauntingly beautiful so far. I will tell you more about it later.

I wrote a short story. It's terrible.

I have made three movie trailers in my head and I desperately wish that I could create them. But alas, I do not have the CGI technology.

And I have done a secret ritual called Kyrr'Tah. It's supposed to make the weather cooler. You'll see the results soon.

Don't walk when you can run,

Esther