The Box

I have a box.

It's not very intimidating like Davey Jone's Chest. It's not sparkely or even colorful. It's just a box. A plain old, normal, so-dark-blue-almost-black, cardboard shoebox. And that's it. No one would argue that it is a very boring box.

Then you open it.

And you realize that this unordinary box is extraordinary because of the ridiculous amount of junk it holds. I'll agree that this boring box of mine holds junk, and only junk.

Unless you happen to be me. And if you're me, suddenly the bits of scrap paper and other items hold alot more value.

In my box, I have birthday cards from when I was 12 years old, maybe younger. I have funny cards, beautiful cards, handmade cards, and so many other types of cards bearing good wishes and the names of my friends and family.

In my box, I have letters. Letters from a friend I met when I was probably around 9 or 10 and haven't heard from in years. Notes from people I've met in 4-H that I hardly see or will ever see again. Get well letters from a baby sister who couldn't be more than 5.

Inside my box, I store away ideas. Written on and drawn out on scraps of paper, stories I didn't feel were bad enough to throw away and dreams that were worth saving. Childish schemes and teenaged musing, all jumbled together.

My box holds dozens of the cheap "buy one box, get eighteen cards" Valentines from my club members.

My box keeps art done by my family and friends safe from being lost or misplaced.

This humble box holds my room key from my first State 4-H Conference.

It carries ribbons from fairs and contests long gone.

There's a page of Halloween stickers in there, sent to me by a friend.

A message in a bottle, inviting me to my very first school dance, stays stowed away safe inside plain cardboard.

Maps from trips to Disneyland find a home in this box.

My name tag from my first event as a State Ambassador.

A note from my dad that I will never grow tired of reading.

So many things, with so many memories attatched like poststamps.

I have a box.
There is nothing special about my box.
It's worthless.
It's what's inside that is priceless.

Cheese!

I don't really enjoy taking pictures. I don't really like being filmed or recorded. If someone asks me to be in a picture, I'll do it. If people want me in their photos, it's cool. It's just that I normally won't volunteer to step in front of a camera.

I'm not camera-shy or anything. It's just that I manage to look ridiculous in every photo I take. No matter the pose, the setting, the clothes, hairstyle, whatever! I always look a little crazy, but that's just the way it is.

I don't nessesarily like taking group pictures, because they take so long to get set up in. And you always end up wedged so tightly together in order for everybody to make it in. Everybody's smiling just so they can stop pretending they're sardines.

I like group pictures when they come together on their own. When everybody is grouped so tightly together because of what you can't see. When you can't help but smile because of who you're standing shoulder to shoulder with.

My least favorite pictures: Pictures where you don't pose for a minute and a half before the flash even gets turned on. Pictures where you don't try so hard to make a good impression on the film.

My favorite pictures are honest ones. I don't know how you can tell an honest picture apart from the others. But you know when you look at one, you know? It's not something some one can say for you, but something you just see.

My Sisters Are Goofs

For some strange reason, they like to come and stand around in front of me. Sometimes they'll talk with me. Or maybe have a question they want to ask. But normally, they just sit around and talk with each other and make really wierd jokes that only they understand.

It's really funny. I know they know I'm there. Sometimes I wonder if they come looking for me. Sometimes I think they do it to try and include me or annoy me.

And then I realize that it doesn't really matter. They're having fun, and that's what does.

Posse or Not Posse?

I really don't mind having two little sisters. I don't mind them following me around most of the time. Heck, sometimes it's kind of cool. I don't really mind having people following me. It's pretty neat for the most part.

But sometimes it can get too much. Nothing against anybody, but sometimes, all you really want is a little space. Some people woud call me a social butterfly. I wouldn't, I don't think I qualify as ANY kind of butterfly. But I do agree with the social bit. I like most people for the most part, and there are only a few that I will do all and everything in my power to keep from interacting with.

But sometimes, it's nice to get a little time to do a few things on my own or do nothing. (However much the latter annoys my mother.)

I'm lucky in one aspect. That normally, my friends and family know when I want my space. And when they need to fear glomping.

Though, I will catch them off guard with the glomping thing every once in a while.

Holy Cows Flying Over Kentucky!

I am so tired. I'm ready to go home and take a nap. Unfortunately, I can't. I'm in Albuquerque for a 4-H planning meeting. Planning meetings are fun, don't get me wrong, but I am about to fall over. Not managing to fall asleep until after 2 doesn't really help.

We're gonna head back to the hotel in a litte while so we can get ready for one of the officer's Sweet Sixteen. I'm not gonna dress up too much. Just look nice.

Ninja, if you're reading this, don't forget to remember the moves. Other wise you guys will leave me all behind! I'll try to catch up with you when I can.

Ugh, I need caffiene. Dr. Pepper, you have a patient!

BELT TESTING!!!!!! Part 2!

Ok, I tested, I think, Saturday for my next belt level. This last belt test was really cool because I got to double test. So instead of moving from Orange to Yellow, I went from Orange to Yellow to Green. All in one go! I was the youngest in my class to test for Green and the youngest in my class to double test.

I really had alot of fun. There were a few things I would have changed:

1. Board Breaking: I don't know what my problem is, but I have the hardest time trying to break with my hand. I snapped straight through that thing with a spinning back kick, but it took me six or seven tries to break with a forward backfist. Something that needs to change.

2. Forms: I'm honestly really happy with these. Except my third form, which I messed up on. It was this one spot that I had been having trouble with. I didn't turn as far as I was supposed to so I was backwards for the final, maybe, third. But he let us do it again, and I got it the second time around.

Other than those couple things, I think I did really well. I managed to land a front leg hook kick on my sparring partner (Her name is Heather. Works at a prison, tested for her yellow belt. Really nice lady.) during our match. I am so proud of that hook kick. Practiced that all morning before the test and it paid off.

Now, I just have to survive all the Green belt stuff. Green is the first Intermediate level in our studio. Once you are a Green belt, you are not allowed to make mistakes over things you learned as an Orange belt. I think we're going to do more grappling now, and sparring. And more advanced kicks and strikes and forms and self-defense and warmups and weapons and all sorts of other stuff. Well, hopefully.


TO ALL NON-MARTIAL ARTS PRACTICING PEOPLE!!
If I've completely confused you with the terminology, just tell me. I'm more than happy to explain anything that doesn't make any sense. I've been thinking of doing a post with the definitions.

Warrior, Maybe....

KK, so it all goes back to a few of my mental problems.

I don't like being afraid. The only real reason I see for some one to be afraid would be when there is no alternative. Either it'll kill you or it'll kill you. There isn't alot of stuff that makes me think "Oh, I'm gonna die!" that's something I just don't do. Normally, it's like, "OOH! That's cool!".

I also don't like losing. Of course, nobody likes losing. But when I feel like it, I will get major competetive. Usually, it's between me and me. Other times, I'll be competing against other people. If my friends are competing with me, I like to do what I can to see them win too. I'm just fine taking second or third if I think the person who won really earned it. Not deserved, but earned. It doesn't hurt if I like them to begin with.

I really really don't like looking weak. Which is part of the not being afraid problem too. Growing up, most of my friends were boys. No matter what, I was not going to look like some sissy. If my guy friends climbed a tree, I would climb too. Anything that made me tougher, stronger, and more "not sissy", I would do it or have already done it. Well, as long as it was ok with my parents.
It usually was, I think they thought it was funny.

Now, onto the actual deal. In Kickboxing, we sometimes spar. Which means we fight. We put on these little foam helmet-y things and boxing gloves and fight. If you can find a way to kick to the head, you're doing good.

My teacher wanted me to enter a tournament to spar. My mom didn't want me to because I would probably get seriously outclassed. I didn't compete in anything. There's a joke in class with a few people that I'm gonna become a cage fighter. All in fun, but it's all got me thinking.

Do I like fighting?

If I was honest, I'd probably say yes. I do. It makes sense with my above stated mental problems. I don't like to lose, so I go into to sparring matches wanting to win. Everyone in the class is in some way both my friend and my competion. I don't want to look pathetic in front of them. And there is no way you can go into a sparring match if you're afraid.

Someday, I'd like to try participating in a sparring tournament. When I know a little bit more about fighting. And whether or not I'm actually any good at it.

Don't You Just Hate It When...

You have all these incredible ideas and you don't know how to express them? When I say ideas, I mean ideas that could make you rich. Ideas that could change your life. Ideas that could change the way people see things.

I have so many ideas. It almost hurts sometimes how many different ideas I'll have. I have books running through my brain. Dozens of lines, and the characters to say them. Story upon story to be told. If only somebody would sit and listen. And if anybody does, they usually either think I'm smart or crazy.

And it goes beyond just writing fantasy. I think so much, I barely pay attention sometimes. I'm intelligent. I'm not being cocky when I say that. I'm a smart kid. But I don't do anything. AND IT KILLS ME. There is so much I want to do, but I can't do any of it yet. The reasons are usually the same: I'm not old enough. Don't have enough money. Still need to graduate.

Don't have, Don't know, Don't try, Can't do, Can't say, Can't be, Can't win, Won't be, Won't work, Won't help, Couldn't work, Shouldn't do, Shouldn't try, Never happen, Never be, Never will.

Man, I HATE statements like that.

They are just excuses. Stupid excuses I use way too much. Excuses everybody uses far too often. There is so much I want to do. I have so many dreams. And I know, I DO NOT have forever, no matter how often I kid myself.

All I know, is if when I'm old and I look back and realize I never did all that I could have, I will know exactly who I have to blame. What I don't know is if I'll ever stop hating myself for that.

Sickness Sucks

I've got some kind of cold. All week. Started on Monday and it's still going strong.

My fever is gone mostly, but my nose is still stuffed and my throat is really sore. I'm having a hard time really focusing on anything because of how lousy I'm feeling. Which isn't all that good because I have a math test on Monday. First of the new class. Honestly, right now, I'd rather be taking Nap 101 instead of Math 110.

Thankfully, bed time isn't too far off.