Monday was MLK Day. And you know I remember when Obama got elected, everyone was like I wonder what Martin Luther King, Jr. would say. And lets be honest, he probably would have been like, "way to go youngblood, way to go!" Also, since we are a private school, we didn't get off for MLK Day, talk about some BS. But now it's time to talk about racism.
Junior High Track was probably the most fun I've ever had running. At age 12, you know nothing about running and setting PR's, and you're only goal is to win. The thought process was always: if I win the county two mile, maybe that girl will date me. Junior high track also led to the greatest rivalries. The past US-USSR dual meets had nothing on Miller Junior High and East Fairmont Middle. Most of the meets were at night, so at every meet it was literally like running in the Olympic Finals...sorta.
Well, I think this month is Black History Month, which is funny because if there was a White History Month, things would be awk-ward. Looking back, junior high was my first introduction to black culture and junior high was so racist. At the first practice for track there was no greater example. All the white kids were told to run the 800 and up and all the black kids became sprinters. There was an Injun (see how racist that is) on the team and some confusion as to what he should run. He ended up at the 800. At one practice, one of the black kids on the team called all the white kids "crackers". So seventh grade was the first time I was insulted for my race. What are the odds.
I'm pretty sure if I could go back to any time in my life, it would have to be eighth grade. Everybody thought they were shit. If I could go back with the knowledge that I have now about human psychology, I would be an unstoppable force in my quest to be the coolest kid at junior high.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Broken Hearts and Kneecaps
Well...my computer went to the Helpdesk and what are the odds...it now has to go to Japan and get fixed. This school is going to the dogs. The administration is letting in kids dumber than me and it is really bringing down the value of my education. I mean I'm sitting in class next to drug dealers and meth tweakers but at least its not teen moms. And speaking of teen moms, there is going to be a new season of 16 and Pregnant.
But to the point of this blog, broken hearts and kneecaps. A few days ago, I had a pain go through the left side of my body and it hurt like hell. I think the first thing I said after that was, "well I guess this is where I die". I could only assume that my rock n' roll lifestyle was catching up to me and I was having a heart attack at the age of 21. Because let's face it, the 60's were all about sex, drugs, and rock n' roll. I then thought maybe I had a broken heart because of my jaded view of love and the number of girls who have ripped my heart out and stepped on it*.
*Actual number of girls who have broken my heart: 0.
And now to broken kneecaps. It seems to be a tradition of falling down stairs and breaking kneecaps on the team. KC did it last year and then ran on it for like three days before getting an x-ray that showed a nice lighting bolt separation of his kneecap. Well, I recently fell down a flight of stairs myself and while my beautiful face was saved from disaster, I thought I broke my knee. The first thought that went through my mind was of the Kentucky Derby. You know when one of the horses falls to the ground and they hide it from the crowd with a white sheet and shoot it. Well, I just assumed if the rescue squad came, they would just put me down. But unlike Barbaro, I will be up and running in a few days and be leading from the back of the pack.
Now to the shout-outs. I'm writing this on Age's computer and so shout-outs to Age and Heidi. But this reminds me of Halloween my freshmen year. The season was pretty much over and I wore my Speed Racer Halloween costume to practice that day. The girls got mad at the guys because the girls thought the guys were hazing me (and let's be honest, I was the only freshmen, hazing doesn't describe what they were doing to me. The Jews at Buchenwald had it better than me. That was probably too far). But this little story is to reflect the rift between the guys and the girls team that existed for a few years. But look at it now, our team is as close as we can be. Also a shout-out to Loren, my biggest enemy and a big fan of the blog.
But to the point of this blog, broken hearts and kneecaps. A few days ago, I had a pain go through the left side of my body and it hurt like hell. I think the first thing I said after that was, "well I guess this is where I die". I could only assume that my rock n' roll lifestyle was catching up to me and I was having a heart attack at the age of 21. Because let's face it, the 60's were all about sex, drugs, and rock n' roll. I then thought maybe I had a broken heart because of my jaded view of love and the number of girls who have ripped my heart out and stepped on it*.
*Actual number of girls who have broken my heart: 0.
And now to broken kneecaps. It seems to be a tradition of falling down stairs and breaking kneecaps on the team. KC did it last year and then ran on it for like three days before getting an x-ray that showed a nice lighting bolt separation of his kneecap. Well, I recently fell down a flight of stairs myself and while my beautiful face was saved from disaster, I thought I broke my knee. The first thought that went through my mind was of the Kentucky Derby. You know when one of the horses falls to the ground and they hide it from the crowd with a white sheet and shoot it. Well, I just assumed if the rescue squad came, they would just put me down. But unlike Barbaro, I will be up and running in a few days and be leading from the back of the pack.
Now to the shout-outs. I'm writing this on Age's computer and so shout-outs to Age and Heidi. But this reminds me of Halloween my freshmen year. The season was pretty much over and I wore my Speed Racer Halloween costume to practice that day. The girls got mad at the guys because the girls thought the guys were hazing me (and let's be honest, I was the only freshmen, hazing doesn't describe what they were doing to me. The Jews at Buchenwald had it better than me. That was probably too far). But this little story is to reflect the rift between the guys and the girls team that existed for a few years. But look at it now, our team is as close as we can be. Also a shout-out to Loren, my biggest enemy and a big fan of the blog.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Dick Clark's New Year's Rockin' Eve
Well...I've been trying to come up with a post to describe what happened on New Year's Eve, but I'm at a loss for words. I think the highlight of the night would have to be blacking out at the bar...without buying a drink. I'm two for two in terms of blacking out when I party in Pittsburgh. Pretty soon it's gonna be everytime I cross the Fort Pitt Tunnel into the city I'll be in a zombie mode for the day.
I think the reason why my awesome night can be blamed on the drinks and who I was with. Bud Light, champagne*, vodka, tequila, and a inconveniently placed 5 Hour Energy seemed to bring my downfall.
*I really don't understand why people call it champagne. It is only champagne if it produced in the Champagne region of France, everything else is called sparkling wine.
The people I was with also equaled a great time. For some reason, I always assume anybody on a team from another school is a douchebag. Josh Wilks destroyed this myth. I think one of the highlights of the night was him having a bunch of do shots like tequila, only he mixed up the tequila with vodka and I took a nice big lick of salt off my hand before enjoying some cheap vodka. When I was in media res of my black-out, apparently Wilks and I were giggling and throwing water bottles at cars in the road.
So here I am getting ready to go run in the dark and thinking about crying. It is the year 2010. Hard to think about this, but ten years ago it was the year 2000. I've traded my life of playing Pokemon and watching cartoons for a life of playing Pokemon and watching cartoons. In final thoughts...I can't wait for New Year's Eve 2010.
I think the reason why my awesome night can be blamed on the drinks and who I was with. Bud Light, champagne*, vodka, tequila, and a inconveniently placed 5 Hour Energy seemed to bring my downfall.
*I really don't understand why people call it champagne. It is only champagne if it produced in the Champagne region of France, everything else is called sparkling wine.
The people I was with also equaled a great time. For some reason, I always assume anybody on a team from another school is a douchebag. Josh Wilks destroyed this myth. I think one of the highlights of the night was him having a bunch of do shots like tequila, only he mixed up the tequila with vodka and I took a nice big lick of salt off my hand before enjoying some cheap vodka. When I was in media res of my black-out, apparently Wilks and I were giggling and throwing water bottles at cars in the road.
So here I am getting ready to go run in the dark and thinking about crying. It is the year 2010. Hard to think about this, but ten years ago it was the year 2000. I've traded my life of playing Pokemon and watching cartoons for a life of playing Pokemon and watching cartoons. In final thoughts...I can't wait for New Year's Eve 2010.
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