The First Club Meeting of the Year - The Third Year Chronicles #4

This afternoon we had the first club meeting of the year. We met in the sanctuary of the church where we meet for club and our various coaches went over the club's basic information and guidelines. And, being perfectly honest, I knew pretty much knew all the stuff already. But I didn't care. I sat there, listening to the words being spoken, because after the coaches were done and everyone had turned in their registration forms, I knew that I would finally get to talk to my friends.

Summer is great and all. There are popsicles and swim parties and long, boring days spent wishing the debate season would start. That last one isn't so great, but it is true. I spent a lot of time waiting for club to restart and now it's finally here.

I was a few minutes late to club today, so pretty much everyone was already there when I arrived. But I couldn't really talk to anyone because the meeting had already started. So I sat down in the back (and I like, never sit in the back. I don't like being late.) and waited for the socialization to start.

And start it did. There were people. Like, everywhere. My heart jumped into my throat (not literally. I'd be in serious trouble if my heart relocated to my throat). I restrained my excitement and tried not to run around hugging everyone in sight. It was a struggle, seeing as how I hadn't seen most of those people in over a month, which may not seem like that long, but since, aside from speech and debate camps, I had a people-deprived summer, I was ecstatic.

Thankfully, I managed to channel my excitement-charged energy into intelligible conversation. I communicated with my people (I call my friends my people. It's a term of endearment, I promise). I managed to say words with real syllables and real meanings rather than spewing gibberish at an excessive pace and a volume capable of bursting eardrums.

And so I socialized for the first time in forever. We didn't do any speech or debate work, but I saw people and I love people. I'm really tired now. I love people, and they energize me and they also drain me. But they are still awesome - especially my friends. I missed y'all, and I'm super excited that I get to see y'all once a week. (At least most of y'all. But I still love my non-IF friends. You're just as great as my IF friends. <3)

Vote affirmative, because you're awesome and club is back.

(This post is part of a series called The Third Year Chronicles. Click here for TTYC #3.)

In Season - The Third Year Chronicles #3

(Based off In Summer from Disney's Frozen.)

Sometimes I like to close my eyes and imagine what it'd be like when tournament season does start.

Speech written, LDers writing their values
And I'll be doing what TPers do in season
A case in my hand, a debate box and brand new Post-it notes
Probably getting gorgeous trophies in season

I'll finally watch a speech written to inspire the judges
And find out what happens to extempers in extemp prep

And I can't wait to see what the judges all think of me
Just imagine how great speeches will be in season

Speech and debate are both so intense,
put 'em together and do extemp

Summer's a good time to have camp and frisbee
But put me in season and I'll be a--HAPPY SPEECHER

When my friends are gone I like to hold on to my dream
Relaxing at tournament,
Just waiting for breaks

Oh the lunch will be cold
And my friends will be there too

When I finally do what TPers do in season

IN SEAAAAASOOOON

What TPers do in season

((This post is part of a series called The Third Year Chronicles. Click here for TTYC #2)

I'm Short

I draw myself as a stick figure. A lot. It's not because I'm insecure about my weight or anything. It's because I'm too lazy to draw more than lines and a circle with some hair on paint. It's impossible to make anything look good on there. If you've been reading this blog for awhile, or if you've stalked through my 59+ blog posts, you know that I draw stick figures a lot. Perhaps you've realized that the recurring stick figure with dark brown hair is me. Perhaps you've noticed that the stick figure depicting me with a huge amount of accuracy is almost always shorter than the other stick figures.

I never stand in the back row of group pictures (unless everyone else in the picture is younger than eleven). Dresses that would be too short reach acceptable length for modesty (this is a bonus). I have to stand on my toes and occasionally a chair to reach the top shelves of our cabinets. I get neck cramps from having to look up at people all the time. It's really hard to be intimidating when you're 5'1, but I make it work

I wonder how people see me sometimes. Do I stick out in a group? Do people notice my height (or lack thereof)? Do they realize that almost all my friends are multiple inches taller than me? Because I don't usually notice those things. I make fun of myself for being short, sure. I notice that it's awkward when people go down for a side hug instead of down. (Seriously people, just go up.)

I wonder if the judge notices I'm only 5'1 and think I'm a twelve-year-old.

I wonder if the fluffiness of my hair compensates for my lack of stature.

I stand really close to people to see if I'm taller than them. (The answer is no.)

I stand on my toes to see if I will be taller than them if I do as such. (The answer is still no.)

However...

I don't feel insulted when people call me short. It's merely the truth.

I am not insecure about my height. I actually like being short.

I do not have to worry about finding a husband who is taller than me. (Yeah, as it turns out, most guys are actually taller than 5'1.)

I don't wear heels to feel taller. That is just a bonus.

God designed me to be a short, fluffy haired, braces-needing, glasses-wearing, off-key singing, book writing, blogging, speeching, debating, and stick-figure drawing girl.

Vote affirmative, because you're short. Or at least I am. But we've clarified that already.

Pen Drills - The Third Year Chronicles #2

With little more than a week until speech and debate club starts off, competitors are in a rush to find cases, write speeches, and stop saying marine natural resource policies. Tournament Withdrawal is turning into Tournament Fever.

I wrote a speech a couple of weeks ago, and after I wrote it I let it sit on the back burner while I worked on my novel (as it would happen, the stove wasn't actually on and it got cold.). But the other day I figured that since club is less than two weeks away, I'd better get practicing.

I started off with some pen drills. You see, most people use pens for writing speeches and flowing debate rounds (or cards). But when practicing your speeches, they take on a new purpose: tongue twister drills.

After you say 'toy boat' so many times that it starts sounding like 'toe boyt', you take the saliva covered pen out of your mouth and do it again. (Same results, really.) And then you move on to the next tongue twister. And from a distance, the normal people of the world stare at you like you've lost your mind (mostly because you have).

I've tried to avoid the pen drills for the last couple of years. Because, well, I didn't want to look like an idiot. But once I started wearing full tournament attire just to practice my speech, I realized that I look like an idiot most times. Besides, pen drills save me from sounding like I have a pen in my mouth in actual rounds. How that works out, I'm not entirely certain.

Vote affirmative. And eat pens. (Wait, that's wrong...)

(This post is part of a series called The Third Year Chronicles. Click Here for TTYC #1)

The Colors of Interp

(To the tune of Colors of the Wind, from Disney's Pocahantas.)

You think I'm a ignorant speecher
And you've won so many outrounds, I guess it must be so.
But still I cannot see, if the speecher one is me
How can there be so much that you don't know?
You don't know.

You think you own whatever tourney you win
That patterns are just a dead things you can waste
But I know every interp, platform, IE
Has a round, has a pattern, has a name

You think the only speeches that are speeches
Are the speeches with three minute cross-ex
But if you read the script of a persuasive
You'll learn things you never knew you never knew

Have you ever seen a DI where they cry a lot
Or ask an HI giver why they grinned?
Can you speak with all the passion of a platform?
Can you act with all the colors of interp?
Can you act with all the colors of interp?

Come run the hidden hallways of a pattern
Come watch an HI done by your partner
Come cry and weep and wallow during DI's
And for once never warrant your interp

The duos and the apols are my events
The DI's and OO's are my favorites
Though TP and LD are both amazing
IE's rule over the awards ceremony

How long can an expos go?
If you never watch, then you'll never know
And you'll never see a DI where they cry a lot
For whether we interp or we debate
We need to speak with all the passion of a platform
We need to act with all the colors of interp

You can win a round and still, all you'll win is debate 'til
You can act with all the colors of interp.

This one goes out to all those debate-only people.

Being a Third Year - The Third Year Chronicles #1

(This is the first in a new series called the Third Year Chronicles, in which I document the coming year as I, a third year speecher/debater venture through it.)

Ah. Novices.

August.  The month where we can finally call the coming speech and debate season this year, and confidently refer to the previous season as last year.  The month of writing speeches 3-4 months in advance.  The month debate club starts up again.  The month in which we clear out our debate boxes and speech binders, the month we create new files on Dropbox for this year.

The month I realize that I'm a third year now.

At the beginning of my second year, I admittedly still felt like a novice.  The stock issues were foggy, I didn't get a TP partner until October, and I still had a hard time finding cards. This year is totally different.  I have a (more than slightly amazing) partner.  I know the stock issues better than the back of my hand (I mean seriously, who has memorized the back of their hand? Who has time for that?).  I wrote a whole speech before August 4th, something I only planned to do last year.

There shouldn't be this big of a difference between second years and third years, but there is.  I learned just as much my second year as I did my novice year.  I'll probably learn a lot this year too, but it won't be the same.

Weird parts of being a third year:

1.  I can't remember which speech/debate camp from whichever year is which speech/debate camp.  (As in, I get things that happened at 2013 debate camp and things that happened at 2012 speech camp mixed up.)
2. My debate coach doesn't put me in the same lecture room as novices and 2nd years.
3. I know and can explain what all the stock issues are. (Even inherency. Shocking, I know.)
4. I prefer certain flow pads over others. (Forget legal pads. Short ones are where it's at!)
5. I can find six pieces of evidence without crying.
6. I am well acquainted with the walls at certain tournament facilities.

Cool parts of being a third year:

1. I get to teach novices.
2. Novices will look up to me.
3. I get to mentor a novice.
4. I get to help turn novices into unstoppable forces of debater-ness. 
5. Basically, novices will love me.
6. I understand permutation and parametrics.

In conclusion, we have seen that being a third year in weird and cool and different.  Novices will love me, and maybe 2nd years will too.  (Wait, all the second years are already my friends.  So I guess novices loved me last year as well.)

It's for all these reasons I strongly urge an affirmative ballot at the end of today's debate round erm...  blog post.