What is it I like about being on my own? I don't know. I think it's just being able to leave the lunch dishes 'till supper and calling all the shots. Not having to worry about anyone else. Being able to dance around the kitchen or eat five cookies. One of my early posts kinda opened this too.
And so, how long would it last? This one I have no idea on. Maybe forever, just as long as I got out enough. But likely not. Maybe only a couple weeks. We'll see.
For now I'll just make the most of it.

Today I, no, that's not a good sentence to start with. Too boring and extremely unoriginal. Not the kind of blog I intended.
So...
Tonight was the judo bbq. It was a wrap-up bbq in the most normal of sorts. I got one of the two medals for best performance. I got one gold for competition in the Duration of a year. Not a very high profile judo club. But then again, the guy who got top performance, he's good.
I'm going to miss it over the summer.
Anyway, that's all I have to say. Maybe starting with "today I" would have summed up the essence of the post.

It is now official. T.v. shuts down your brain.
Then again, maybe that's what I need right now.

Oh yeah, I'm housitting. Tough day *sighs*.

As some of my friends could tell you, I used to laugh a lot. All the time, over nothing. Largely in the breaks of conversations, when something would strike me funny, and I'd laugh out loud. At sleepovers I would bite my fist late at night in an attempt not to burst out at the memories of a recently read Garfield.
Those who knew me best just didn't bother asking what I thought was funny any more. They would hardly pause, because usually what stuck me was something not particularily interesting, witty, or even, well, funny. Just something dumb. But when I did want to share something it was annoying because I'd chuckle to myself and nobody would even turn their head.
I don't really do that any more. But as I was going down the row planting strawberries (a job, by the way, which I have now finished) I realized I was grinning madly away to myself. Picture me with a smile like that of a chesire cat. And I think I still do that at least as often. Often it will be over a quirk in human nature, or a specific human's nature, that I find amusing. Some small memory or recollection.
And there I'll sit grinning madly away to myself.
"What?"
"Oh, nothing."

I was baby-sitting this little kid, four years old. Cute enough, but an absolute potential terror. I put on little mermaid, because he said he wanted to watch it, which he didn't. Anyway, we went through all that, I don't remember watching it other then once when I was a little kid myself. After it finished I was pouring out a few lines of that song she (little mermaid) sings in the movie. I pick up on songs pretty fast. I guess it was suited to my voice well enough, so it was fun.
The kid looked at me, "how do you do that? Do it again" I did, "now do it one more time," I did.
He looked at me dead seriously and goes, "beautiful".

I love little kids, when they're not being brats, which is only a small percentage of the time. Plus, I think this one is going to have a fair bit of musical talent himself.

O.k., I have three possibilities for N. Thanks to everyone who commented (sarcasm, again).
4x6=24
6x8=48
8x10=80
Actually a very simple question when you get down to it. And the math lingo all came back to me as soon as I really read it. Anyway, thanks to Sped for the dare (not sarcastic this time).
Other then that, good day so far. Rained on our parade, literally, but was still fun. Plus stuff. That's all I want to write now though.

If n is a two-digit number that can be expressed as the product of two consecutive even integers, what is one possible value of n?

O.k., anyone, please comment the answer. Think, this is a real challenge, the kind you love. You're up to it! If you don't, I have to post it next post. I have no idea what it is and I don't want to look stupid by getting it wrong. Plus, I don't have time to bother right now.
Thanks to Sped for the dare (I'm being sarcastic).
Please?

There's suppose to be a thunderstorm later. I love thunderstorms. All the loud thunder and the lightening flashing brilliantly, spectacularly, into the dark.
Each crash or flash can be so exhilarating and more impressive then the last. Torrents of rain. The cozy feeling of sitting inside watching it, or the free, reckless feeling of standing out with the rain pouring down your face.
Yesterday I was thinking I would like to be hit with lightening, just once. Not bad enough to kill or even injure me, or course, because that would be horrible for me and the world. Just to be hit. How many people can say they've been hit by lightening? I was reading about a girl who was once, she said she felt tingly and weird for a long time afterwards. Anyway, don't worry, I'm not going to go climbing antennas in an attempt to get electrified.


change of subject
Go Calgary. Last night they beat out San Jose to rule the western league. Now, I'd much rather see Vancouver in that spot. But I cheer Canadian, and Calgary is that last surviving Canadian team. Now they just have to take on Philly or Tampa in the final series. Winner takes the cup.
So, go Calgary!

I just want to be done with school. I have resigned myself to not "officially graduating", but I suspect I have a good grasp on a fair number of subjects. I also suspect I have been changed back into a pure homeschooler. One of the kind who just wants to learn. The kind, maybe, who's right, can reach the stars, if they really wanted to, and the kind who won't put up with any (dare I say it?) crap from the system. And No. Not that I support homeschooling stereotypes that say Moms wear denim jumpers and kids do rod and staff (which I loathed with a passion). I do, however, tend to support any generalization (I like that word, so much softer then stereotype) that says homeschoolers are more unique, unbiased in their opinions, have a stronger sense of morals, and know how to learn or work hard. Remember people, generalization.
Having said that, there's still a secret want inside which proclaims...I wish I'd taken, just maybe one year, of highschool. Or, to go the very opposite, graduated with them. So what if I couldn't think for myself, I'd be "normal", "accepted", and "qualified". But we'll pretend I didn't say that. Because I wouldn't really do it different. Just think, there would go my grade eleven adventure over North America.
June is like a magic month now. Finished with chemistry, finished with report writing, and not having this English provincial hanging over my head. Don't get me wrong, I love English. Report writing, well, it's something I had to learn. Chemistry, I started taking it to get my "grade eleven credit". But it's been very good for me. Bit of structure and discipline. And now I know an acceptable amount of science (my percentage is in the nineties). And know what else? I didn't hate it. But I want to have it done with. Just because I need to get on with life. I'm just tired of being expected to show-up every Tuesday with my homework done. And I want to be absolutely finished with handing in reports to the school.
Yes, I'm learning, and here's the assignments I forced myself to do in order to prove it.
Oh, I'll still read rabidly. I'll still do all my p.e. requirements and maybe even solve the rare math question for the cold hard challenge of it. Heck I'll probably take on something completely new. But school, I'll be able to say I've completed twelve years of education. Get off my back.
And one more thing, I loved highschool. Hate to leave it behind. Suffered mid-teen-crisis. Like learning and living and not needing to pay my own way. But I know I need to move one. So now it's just like I'm waiting.
Remember, I'm the girl who hates set-hard change.

Life comes in phases, I think. Although you don't really notice it until you look back. There's the big sections and then little sections. And they never divide by exact years. Like, I won't look back and see 1-5, 6-10, 11-14. You know? I'll look back and see, little-kid-years, Funnest-years, growing-years, mid-teen-years. They all kind of meld together. Which brings me to here. Maybe confusing-years. Or figure-things-out-years, or mess-up-years.
Why is it that things are always so clearer when you look back? They make a heck of a lot more sense, everything is just so obvious. And the big deals, they don't matter. The hours I used to spend crying over math, big deal. Letting go of my funnest-year's friends, it just had to happen. Why did I make it so tough? It's a lesson I had to learn, and I fought it with left-hook and tackle (since I'm opposed to fighting tooth and nail). Change always bugged me. I'm learning it. But it's a slow process, and I don't think I'll ever be able to embrace it. It's not that I mind moving around, exploring, trying. I just like to be able to go back to how things were. Now I can face it, without flinching, but inwardly I'm mourning the loss when I should be embracing the gain.
I remember standing, watching out the window, and crying. Because Dad was cutting down a tree. It'd been there forever. Things would never be the same without that tree. But somehow it just went on, and I've never missed it much, if at all.
whether they fade out or just go all at once, things rarely stay forever. And the ones that do, they're real treasures. You have to learn the process of saying goodbye and letting go, and how to choose when to hang on.
So when I look back on the becoming-adult-years what will they look like? Will I be glad with the things I did and what I'd become? Will it even be a big deal?
My Dad says, "life happens, you just have to make decisions when they come and pray that they're the right ones." Maybe he's right.
But the choices I have to make now really will affect my whole life.
We'll see. That's really all I can say. We'll see.
Something like ninety percent of people in old folks homes wish they took more chances. I know, the ones who took the chances are all dead.
But it's something to think about.