That Amazing Moment when.... You Die Repetitively Because You're so Excited

Welcome to the 'That Amazing Moment When...' series! Where I talk about moments in my life that I consider rather amazing. This is part one: ..you die repetitively because you're so excited. (aka, when I broke to persuasive finals.)

Once upon a time, I broke to persuasive finals. The end,

Okay, that's not the end. What kind of horrible writer would I be if I wrote like that? So here's the real story of when I broke to persuasive finals: 

As you already know, I was rather hesitant to start speech and debate this year, though I knew my mother wouldn't let me not do it. When I wrote my persuasive, I thought there was maybe, possibly a chance for me to qualify for Nationals. But that was a ridiculous notion. Really ridiculous. Like, really, really ridiculous. But of course there was always that slim chance that I might possibly end up in the top 40%. But (though I told myself otherwise) deep down inside I really, really wanted to break. But there was no chance of that. But I still wanted it! But I, of course, didn't want to invest the time to get to that point. So what did I do after the first uneventful (well, it was eventful. I mean, there's impromptu, apol, interps, platforms...) tournament? I didn't do any work at all on my speech until the week before the second tournament where I sort of practised. Then I sort of kind of really failed at persuasive. And even more failed at impromptu. But I had learned my lesson. The lesson that no work doesn't pay off at all, except in 5th and below ballots. So in the three weeks before the New Braunfels 500, (the third tournament I went to this year) I practised my persuasive three times a day (or more) every day. Except Sundays, because we're supposed to rest on Sundays. I even did it some on Saturdays. And guess what! Hard work pays off!!! I know, I couldn't believe it either. How, exactly did it pay off? Weeellll..... I kind of sort of broke to persuasive finals. And I kind of sort of died/cried when they were announcing breaks. Of course, they didn't have the most nerve-wracking moment of my life until after debate quarter finals. Then, of course, I was last in my room. So then I watched a few duos. And then I rushed to my persuasive room! And I stood outside there for about a half hour, dying repeatedly. Having a mini panic-attack. But it was okay! Because I prayed with a couple of my friends and then I was ooookaaaay. My mom (who is usually stuck in ballot push during my rounds) came to watch, my brother Conner came and watched, a few of my other friends came and watched, and there were five judges. Five! There's usually only three! Plus a timer! Who I know personally! The only down side to this is that whenever I practise with my stuffed animals I always have three, and there's a specific way I shake their hands (paws). In order: 'thank you for judging!', 'Thank you so much for judging!', 'Thank you for your time!', (and for the timer) 'thank you for timing! What was my time?' Unfortunately, lovely organized manner of doing this was ruined by the addition of two judges. Also unfortunately, my time was only 9:00 minutes, as opposed to the usual 9:43. I guess I was goingreallyfastbecauseIwasodangnervousbutwhatever.

So after I was finished dying before/after my round I went and did absolutely nothing for like three hours.  Like, nothing. And it was so much fun. Okay, not really, but I didn't really want to watch debate semis. But I did watch debate finals. And then, (forever later because persuasive is second to last during the awards ceremony because P is so down the alphabet) I stood up from my seat on the front row with all my tournament besties and gathered with the rest of the persuasive breakers. I said I wasn't going to cry with joy if I got 8th place, because that's what I was fully expecting. Only I broke that dumb bunny promise and lost all my oh-so-beautiful make-up that took me five minutes to put on that morning. I didn't care that I got eighth! I just cared that I got something! I was elated. And by elated, I mean elated. After awards, when everyone was awkwardly gathering in the small place outside the sanctuary, my mom and best friend kept asking my what was wrong and I was like, 'I freaking broke to persuasive finals! Everything is right in the world!' So I died repeatedly and and cried even more so and cried more when I saw my first 1st place ballot since I was nine. And I cried more when I saw my second 1st place ballot since I was nine. And then I got really creeped out while we were playing 'baby, if you love me' during the ballot party. And I wore my shiny new medal the whole time! And something else amazing happened but I'd feel really stupid if I told you and when I think about it, it really wasn't that amazing okay it really was amazing but just to me and you probably wouldn't think it was so amazing if I told you. So that was like, oh I don't know, the best tournament ever. Okay, maybe not. But, competition-wise, it was probably the best tournament up to that point. Because getting first in juniors for some reason just doesn't seem as great any more.

I think it was because I realized that there are other people who compete in my events. I mean, I knew that before, but I never really thought about it. Whenever I got first in juniors, a bunch of other kids didn't. It was really prideful for me to think that just because I got 1st once meant that I absolutely had to win in order to be successful. I think that's how most people are their novice year. They expect to become 'one of the greats' their first year. They think that they know everything about debate because they know the four basic stock issues, and they think they'll pwn at impromptu because they have this one really good story, and they think that they'll complete blow all other interps out of the water because they use an amazing British accent. But then they forget that they actually have to practise. And that they actually have to (cringe) work. And when they don't completely pwn everyone's faces, they feel like they'll never be good at speech and debate - or anything for that matter! This especially happens when novices do really well at their first tournament. They expect to do just as well - even better! - the next time. And they don't work because they think they've got in the proverbial bag. Then they completely fail. And then they feel stupid. But by the next year (hopefully) they've recovered, and learned their lesson about humility. They work hard and do okay at the first tournament. Then they pwn faces at the next few tournaments. Then they pwn at NITOC because they're so humble now and understand that success once doesn't equal success twice, if you know what I mean. Of course humility doesn't always equal success. That's kind of the point of being humble. They understand that sometimes other people are the ones who need that first place trophy, or need that one win  in prelims, even though they maybe shouldn't have. But I'll talk more about humble people in later posts because this one is getting super long.

And vote affirmative, because the negative team is so in love with my case that they have conceded the round. :)