Looking Forward

I have two more years of speech and debate.

I sit at my laptop in the kitchen, the rest of the household either out or sleeping. My cat has prevented me from enjoying the wonders of sleeping in. (Really, Lucie? You wake up at 8:00, play for an hour, and then sleep all day. WHY?) I don't have an Instagram, because I don't have a smartphone or any other Instagram supporting device, but I do have the ability to look at people's public accounts, and I do so with Katie Gregoire (ugh I love her). Anyway, she posted a video of her at her last Bible quizzing tournament (I don't know a lot about quizzing, but as far as I can tell it's pretty similar to the speech and debate community.)

I've had this blog for more than two years now. In some ways, those two years have gone by so fast. In other ways, it feels like it's taken me forever to get to this point. Everything is so different from how I expected it to be.

This is my first post in two months, and that's because forensics have been far from my mind. I haven't been researching the new TP rez. I haven't decided exactly which speeches I'm going to do. I don't know who I'm going to partner with in any event. I don't know what TP case I'm going to run. And thinking about all this is stressing me out.

The first club meeting of the year is in a little over a month. I feel like a lot about the club is changing, but I know one thing: they're going to ask us to write down goals. I don't have those planned out either. I guess at this point they're looking like, "find a partner," and "figure out what speeches I want to do," and "don't freak out."

Maybe doing eleven tournaments burned me out, because thinking about the coming year exhausts me. Honestly, thinking that I have two more years is overwhelming. Maybe it'll be fine once club starts. Maybe this is just tournament withdraw. Maybe I'm just really tired today because I've had a long week. And month. But this month also feels really short. UGH I'm so tired and my brain isn't functioning right. This is what happens when you go two months without writing about speech and debate.

Vote affirmative. I'm too tired to think of a creative reason why, and maybe you relate to 4th Year Exhaustion Syndrome.

Ten Thousand

This Wednesday, after posting my Taylor Swift parody, I broke 10,000 pageviews all time history here on Kitkats and Impromptu. Not specifically that post, but all my posts. I had been counting pageviews for a few weeks leading up to this. after I hit 9,000 I knew what the next big milestone was.

I was expecting something to change.

Maybe having so many views would bump up my confidence.

Maybe having so many views would mean to beginning of my internet popularity.

Maybe having so many views would result in confetti cannons going off and balloons falling from the ceiling.

New Years, however, is still two weeks away.

Nothing has changed. I still have frizzy hair and glasses. I'm still shorter than most of my friends.

I'm not saying I was defining my entire worth off of how many views my blog had, but I guess I was expecting a small bump in value from this huge milestone. But instead I just had to figure out which button to press to take a screen shot so I could post the above picture on Facebook.

Nothing has changed. I'm still going to sit here, figuring out what songs to do parodies of and what debate related lists to make.

There are people out there who count things in the millions. I'll be here counting the dozens and hundreds and hoping to write another post with the popularity of You Know You're a Christian Homeschool Speech and Debate Kid When...

Vote affirmative. Not that it'll change anything.

Thanksgiving

Time for the obligatory Thanksgiving post!

You probably won't read through the whole list, but it was fun to make. So, here we go.

Things I am Thankful for:

• The grace given to me
• Speech and debate
• Tournament season
• People who comment on my blog (you should do that)
• The freedom to listen to Christmas music without judgement
• Negative briefs
• Go Teen Writers
• Purple trophies
• Awesome impromptu topics
• High quality Christian music
• Food
• Cheesecake
• Jamie Grace's songs that describe my life way too well
• Drawing references so I can fool everyone into thinking I can draw well
• Tiny pumpkins
• Rain boots
• Rain
• Snow before Thanksgiving
• Umbrellas
• Hair spray
• Bobby pins when you need them
• Friends who loan you bobby pins when you need them
• Cold weather
• Winter clothes
• Lists about things I'm thankful for
• My parents who read my blog posts (*waves* Hi Mom!) as well as do many amazing things that are amazing.
• Fiction
• Clean love songs
• Friends who encourage me
• Friends who get and laugh at my jokes
• Friends who help me clean at club
• Chicken and Dumplings
• Judges with legible handwriting
• Judges who get my Taylor Swift references
• Extemp questions I know something about
• Writing ability
• Pinterest (it's a gift and a curse)
• Friends who don't judge my adoration of cookie dough
• Wearing my own nametag
• Parli resolutions that aren't weighted
• Bright pink heels
• Smooth terrain for walking in the aforementioned pink heels
• A clean room
• Pre-written parli cases
• Band-aids
• Fingers that don't get hit by pool balls
• Colorful pens
• Not getting last place in impromptu
• Cheesy hallmark movies
• Remembering to wear my retainer
• Long showers
• Sleeping late
• People who read this blog
• People who read my blog and tell me they have done so
• People who watch my speeches
• Chocolate chip cookie dough ice-cream
• Skater skirts and leggings
• Debate dance parties
• Pretending to be able to dance
• People who vote affirmative

No really. You should do that.

Reference

Things Change - The Third Year Chronicles #9

(People do these a lot, right? Letters to themselves, what they wish they'd known two or five or ten years ago. This one is to little novice me, specifically in October of 2012, about a month before the first tournament.)

Dear Hadley,

It's your novice year. The start of your speech and debate career. The start of many friendships. You're starting to overcome your fears. You shake when you stand up to give a speech, and, I'm sorry to say, you still will in the years to come. But that's okay. It's mostly adrenaline anyway.

You're afraid. You don't want to disappoint all the people who keep saying you're going to do well this year. Don't let the pressure get to you. Listen to what your coaches say and you'll do fine. You won't win every round or get first place on every ballot. You may have to wait a year or so for trophies, but that's fine. Trophies seem so big and unattainable right now. Hold on to that. Let 1st place ballots matter. Don't treat them like they're ordinary. Someone ranked you  above seven other competitors. That's not something small.

Right now, a month before your first tournament, you're still wondering why you got yourself into this. The elephant in the room hasn't gotten much smaller than it was at debate camp. You barely know the difference between solvency and significance, and the word 'parametrics' makes you dizzy. The thought of giving an impromptu speech makes you want to curl into a ball and weep. That feeling will go away--mostly.

And, oh, the people. So many people. Right now it seems as though you know everyone's name, yet no one knows yours. That will change. Soon, people will run up to you, calling your name, greeting you with all the enthusiasm of Daniel Martin. Your days of pathetic friendlessness are over. You'll make many friends this year. However, not all of them will stay your friends. That's okay. You'll find new friends--or they may find you. The people you think you'll stay friends with for a long time won't always do as such. People who you think you won't ever be close to may surprise you.

Things won't always be this way. No year is the same as the last. Things change, and they change quite a bit at times. Some things get easier--impromptu speeches, debate research, speaking in front of others. Some things get harder--keeping friendships, staying within time limits on all your speeches, Things get stressful and crazy. Sometimes they may break your heart.

You'll learn how to overcome your fears and your pride and your insecurity, though those things never truly end. You'll learn how to face failures and face successes. But you know something that I seem to forget: it's not about the stress, the trophies, the fifth and belows. You're not focused on those things right now. You've heard stories of success and stories of failure. Losing stories and 1st place trophy stories. The point of all of those stories: the trophies and medals and 1st places don't matter. What is important is the people. The people in the stories. The people in your life. Make time for people--not things.

Things change. Hold on to what you have now. Hold on to moments. Embarrassing ones (there are lots of those), awkward ones, devastating ones, wonderful ones. Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, rather, in humility, value others above yourself. (Philippians 2:3. A good verse there, lovey.) Remember that, when everything seems chaotic, that God's love will always remain.

It's my third year. Things here are different than they were two years ago when I didn't know what permutation was (still trying to figure that out, actually). I watch novices like you as they start to grasp what this whole debate thing looks like (though some have a pretty good idea already.) They ask questions I immediately know the answer to--then I realize that I asked the same questions when I was a novice; when I was you.

Parli, extemp, duo, DI, finals, medals, trophies, green checkmarks, humility, laughter. Stress, headaches, e-ring, clean up, emails, insecurity, tears. It's life in speech and debate, and it gets crazy sometimes. But crazy is good, right? So don't be upset that things are changing. There is beauty in change, even in heartbreak. There it beauty and wonder and sometimes pain.

Hold on to right now. Don't cling to it as a comfort zone, but remember it. I was you only two years ago, but things have changed. They'll change even more in the future, I'm sure. But, wow, it hit me hard this year. Don't be afraid, even if things do change.

Yours truly,
~Hadley Grace

(P.S.- Remember to always, always vote affirmative.)

(This post is part of a series called The Third Year Chronicles. Click here for TTYC #8.)

Expectations - The Third Year Chronicles #8

I paced back and forth across the floor of my narrow bathroom, feeling trapped and alone. It wasn't like I was locked in the bathroom. No, it was just summer. A summer that seemed as though it would drag on until I died of loneliness. People can die from that, right?

Speech camp felt as though it would never come. I sat on the ground, and, unable to stop them, let a few tears roll down my face.  I wanted summer to end, and I wanted it to end now. Once the summer ended,  I would write and practice speeches. I would learn about the new resolution. I would learn how to parli. But most importantly, I would see my friends. I couldn't wait. I couldn't wait. I could not wait.

But I was also worried, afraid, apprehensive, other synonyms for concerned. While I wasn't expecting the coming year to be totally and completely divergent from my first and second years, the fear that perhaps it would be bit at me. But I pushed it away. Everything was going to be fine. Everything was going to be perfect.


I'm really bad at predicting the ending of stories. So I usually don't try. Actually, I try not to. I let the story play out, never trying to guess at what will happen next. Because of this, I rarely think of books or movies as predictable--unless they are so grossly predictable that even I, in all my poor foreseeing abilities, can tell exactly what is going to happen next.


However, I am not at all like this in real life. I don't think I do it intentionally, but I find myself trying to figure out what will happen next week or next month or next year. But, as I am with fictional stories, I'm no good at predicting what will happen in my actual life. Alas, I am a dreamer. I enjoy looking ahead to the future, even just the near future. This leads to expectations. Expectations lead to disappointments.

I was going to see my friends. It was a month after debate camp had ended. I would be going to the first club meeting of the year in mere minutes.

Despite arriving only a few minutes late, I managed to walk in after announcements had started. No problem. I would just have to enthusiastically greet all of my friends after the club briefing ended. I sat anxiously through the meeting, waiting for the moment of release and socialization.

I expected my second year of speech and debate to be significantly different than my first. And, sure, there were a few changes. I made new friends and lost a couple of others. The tournaments I went to varied in population from the previous year. But overall, it wasn't all that different than before. Subtracting the massive disappointment of not attending NITOC.

So after last year's unremarkable differences, I was expecting this year to resemble last year in most ways, with the same sort of differences. Differences that wouldn't appear until tournament season was in full swing. I'm really bad at predicting things.

I had never felt this stressed before. And I've had to print of briefs and script forms at 11:00pm the day before a tournament. But this was something else. I had skimmed over the many emails I had received whilst in Arkansas prepping my case with my TP partner. But now I was back from Arkansas and I had all sorts of things to do before club tomorrow afternoon. My e-ring was due (quite graciously) before club the next morning. There were things on ISIS I had to watch and read and learn. I had to send emails to the loop about cleaning. Oh and I was feeling especially inspired to write in my novel that evening. Great timing, inspiration. Also, there was this thing called sleep that I kind of sort of needed a lot. Maybe staying extra days in Arkansas was a bad idea. Maybe I should've waited for a less stressful time.

It's not just the research and emails that I've been stressing out about. Something happened this summer (I won't go into details) that changed my perspective on my friendships. Suddenly, my relationships didn't seem so permanent and didn't seem as meaningful. Almost every week after club for the past four weeks, I've found myself questioning my friendships. I'm worried that I'll lose relationships I really value. Maybe none of these fears are founded, and I'll move past this. But right now I don't know what to expect.

Maybe I should stop trying to predict what will happen next. As I stated earlier, it will lead to disappointment.

So far this year has not been what I expected it to be. But God doesn't operate by our expectations. I guess I just have to trust Him and His plan and not my own suppositions. Maybe it's better that way.

Vote affirmative. It's the expected response.

(This post is part of a series called The Third Year Chronicles. Click here for TTYC #7.)

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.)

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.

Happy Birthday!

Wait, what?

That's crazy. Impossible. Insane. Ridiculous. Inconceivable.

It's been a year? Yes, that is what it says.

It's been a year.

A year of crazy debate stories, long posts about tournaments, posts about writing, posts about trusting and speaking love, posts about the insanity of CHSADKs, weird spikes in the amount of views I get, amazing people and amazing moments.

Six thousand, one hundred, and sixty two views.

859 views on the post "You Know You're a Christian Homeschooled Speech and Debate Kid When..."

Fifty posts. Four Disney/Debate parodies. Twenty things I love about speech and debate. Kitkats, impromptu, and blogging.

But that's not what matters.

What matters is you.

Yes, you. My wonderful readers.

I couldn't have gotten 6100 views without you. I wouldn't have written fifty blog posts if it weren't for you. I wouldn't have kept going if it weren't for you.

Don't think that your view doesn't affect me. Every view I get makes me smile a little brighter. Every view I get makes me want to keep doing this.

Writing posts, making parodies, drawing stick-figures on paint. You make it all worth it.

Vote affirmative- then, every time you come back to this little blog with a weird name, that's exactly what you do. So, thank you very much.

Tournament Orphans

I'm an orphan. But only about once a month for a few days. And not really ever during the Summer. I'm only an orphan at debate tournaments.

Whenever my dad actually goes to tournaments (and he doesn't go to a lot) he works in tab. You never see those who dwell within the walls of the tabulation room. They stay in that room. Sometimes, you pass by this room, which is usually a tiny office in which are crammed several people. exceeded the suggested room capacity. Tab sometimes gets food leftover from the student lunches and the judges room. It is all they have to survive off of, since they cannot escape the prison like room known as tabulation... You get the point. I hardly ever see my dad at tournaments. Sometimes he emerges from tab to watch my speeches, but this is a rare and precious occasion.

I have never been to a tournament without my mom. But alas, I hardly ever see her, for she works tirelessly within the walls of the judges room, rendered off limits too all those who are competing. But this is not because she is always judging. She almost always works toward making sure all the rooms of competition have a suitable number of judges in ballot push. I see my mother even less than I see my father.

It is a strange sight for me to see other students with their parents. I can't help but wonder, 'shouldn't they be working? Or judging? Or, I don't know, eating judges' food?' But some kids are not rendered orphans at tournaments. But we tourney orphans manage to survive off our friends' company- and their snacks.

Maybe one day I won't be a tourney orphan. But that is unlikely. Vote affirmative, out of pity for this poor little orphan.

The Strange Things Speech and Debate Kids Do

Let's be honest: speech and debate kids are weird. Maybe not individually, but in general. We do some pretty weird things, things that almost no other group of people do. Since it would take hours to list all the strange things, I'm just going to list five of them for your amusement. Of course, if you are a Christian homeschooled speech and debate kid, then this will just be reassurance that you're not alone.

5. Speech Ranks Stalking

We all do it. I'm pretty sure that Speechranks is a legit thing to fast from. I don't know how, but we manage to spend hours on speechranks. There are two forms of speechrank stalking: Number one is where you stalk yourself, and the people you've competed against. You go to a specific tournament and look at how far away you were from getting a checkmark. Number two is boredom stalking. It's a progression, see: first, you look at your own ranks. Then you look at your TP partner's ranks. Then you look at their duo partner's. And then the duo partner's parli partner's ranks. And it goes on. And on. And on, until you're looking at impromptu champion from NITOC two years ago's TP partner's persuasives scores.

4. Speeches on Youtube

I don't mean speeches about youtube, because I have yet to see a speech about youtube. I have, however, seen just about every speech that has been videotaped and uploaded to youtube. I can spend a significantly long amount of time watching said speeches. I know I'm not the only one doing it, because some of these have a few hundred views and I haven't watched them that many times. Although I think I could watch Chandler Lasch's speeches that many times.

3. Green Checkmarks

How even..?

Now, in and of themselves, green checkmarks are pretty normal. But when you're a CHSADK, you have a pretty abnormal desire to have those things. Some people are green with envy for money or big houses, but CHSADK's are green with envy for green checkmarks. (Well, not 'with envy,' but you know what I mean.) Getting one checkmark is great. It gives you hope. Hope for another green checkmark. And when you get the second checkmark, you have an internal party. At checkmark number three you think, "wow, where am I gonna put all these imaginary checkmarks?" I don't really know what happens after number three, because that's the most I've ever had. If you have had more, then please, let me know what it was like.

2. Wall Interps

Clarification, I'm not talking about walls giving interps, because, not gonna lie, that would be ridiculous. I'm talking about those interp kids (myself included) who practice their interps in front of walls before their rounds. I have done this... twice. Maybe three times? See, I've only done an individual interp at one tournament. I anticipate much wall interping in my future.

1. Public Speaking

Honestly. Some people would rather die than speak in public. But here we have hundreds of teenagers standing in front of strangers giving speeches on a regular basis and loving it. We are an insane group of kids. We're almost as insane as the Sherlock fandom! (But, of course, no one is as insane as the Sherlock fandom.) We face judgement on a regular basis- and we love it. Sure, we don't like it when we get eighths on our ballots when eighths don't actually exist, but it makes for great stories! We are a crazy group of kids- and I wouldn't want it any other way.

*~*~*~*

In other news, it's 2014, and I just came up with a great New Years resolution that doesn't involve going to the gym daily or eating healthy food 24/7... You can vote affirmative! *Shameless plug*

My Dream House is a Hobbit-Hole.

A long time ago I said that I would write more about imagination. That was like, more than a month ago. It was only the second post of this blog. Along with promises of more imagination posts, it included a very lovely story about cupcakes. Anyways, I shall now write about imagination.

I watched all three of the Lord of the Rings movies back in December/Janurary (not positive which month it was). If you have not seen these movies, I highly suggest that you do. No, I demand that you do. These movies are utterly fantastic. So, after you read this post, go watch the Lord of the Rings. Warning: They are each like, three hours long. But it's worth it. Anyways. I watched them again these last couple of weeks. And - guess what - they were just as amazing as last time! So I thought to myself, 'if the movies are so good, and the book is always better than the movie I should read the books.'

The reason I hadn't done this previously is because those books are a tad bit frightening. And I'm not talking about the orcs and Gollum. These books were written in the 30's/40's. And that was like, 70 years ago. That was quite a long time ago. And on top of that, these weren't exactly written for fourteen-year-old. And I thought that they'd be slow and boring and difficult to understand. But I took up the noble task of reading those legendary books.

I was surprised, to say the least. For the record: hobbits are awesome. My dream house is a hobbit-hole. Yeah. Seriously. Those things are awesome. It's a house... that's underground. And it has a round door. And it's awesome. But you already knew that.

So what does this have to do with imagination? Well, duh!! They're books! More importantly, they're works of fiction! Not only fiction, fantasy fiction. And not only all that other stuff, they're set in a whole other world! You cannot read this books without imagination. It's just weird words that mean nothing too you. of course, without imagination, that's all anything is. You need imagination to hear the characters voices, you need imagination to see the landscape. You need imagination to believe that any of it can be real. I can't imagine what life would be like without imagination. (That was a pun or a joke or something, BT-Dubz.)

Many people, especially in this day and age, start to loose a bit of their imagination as they age. But for readers - and writers even more so - the imagination only increases. Maybe you aren't always going on imaginary adventures in your backyard (or maybe you are, because imaginary adventures are awesome) but you never stop believing in the magic of books. Not the bibbi-di-bobbi-di-boo kind of magic, but the kind of magic that let's you escape into a world different from your own - or maybe not so different. The kind of 'magic' that attaches you to characters like Frodo and Sam, and all those other awesome (or not so awesome) people in LotR. And all those other awesome people in other good books.

I honestly feel bad for people who don't like to read. They're missing out. Other worlds, other people, other sights, other sounds, other... everything! And those people who only read one book or one series, like the Hunger Games or Twilight. They find one series they like, and if they read anything else they're all like, 'it's not as good!' in an annoying, nasally voice. Just because it's not as good as say, the Lord of the Rings, doesn't mean that it's a bad book/series! Silly people. *Tsk tsk*

On movies: I have nothing against them. Really, I don't. I just think that books generally provide more entertainment. Let me show you what I mean: Let's say you see a movie at the cinema. (Sorry, I just feel like being un-American and saying things like 'cinema.') Let's say the ticket is... Eight dollars. Let's say the movie is a around two hours long. And just to make it more realistic for you, let's say this movie is the Hunger Games. And let's say that you're an HG fangirl, you're probably going to watch it more than once.Now at a book-store, the Hunger Games is about $16.00 or less. If you save the money from seeing the movie multiple times, you can buy the book. Which, for the record, is much better than the movie. The movie is like, two hours, right? How long will it take you to read the book? It took me around eight hours, but that's because I was in the car on the way from my house to Memphis, Tennessee, which is about nine hours from where I live. I had nothing to do, so I read the Hunger Games. But if you weren't attempting to entertain yourself on the way to a whole other state, it would probably take you a few days. A few days vs. two hours. Which provides more entertainment? Hmm.... I WONDER. Oh, and movies don't make you use as much of your imagination. Yeah... So...

In conclusion: imagination is awesome. Books are awesome. The Lord of the Rings is Awesome. Books are better than movies. I want to live at Bag-End. I want to be a hobbit when I grow up so I can do so. Go read the Lord of the Rings. And watch the movies. Use your *cue rainbow* imagination. And vote affirmative. Thank you and goodnight/morning/evening/afternoon.

These guys are awesome. And you know it. ;)

I Am Not Beautiful. I am not Gorgeous. I am as Radiant as the Sun.

Beautiful for Me - Nicole Nordeman

Today I went to this thing that my friends Maria and Julia put on. It was called Camp Pretty Purposeful. (Website here.) Basically, a whole bunch of different speakers that you can see on the website, came to this event and spoke to us, a bunch of teenage girls. I won't go into a whole lot of detail, except for what one of the speakers said that really affected me.

Jennifer Strickland is a former super model. After getting out of that lifestyle and being saved by Jesus, she still struggled with insecurities. The detrimental life of a model had taken its toll. Since she had anorexia she had back skin. Her health had been damaged and she still had bad acne. In fact, she had these really awful under-the-skin sores that would get infected. Every time she tried lotions it just got worse. Finally, she went to a world renowned dermatologist to get a prescription that would work. The doctor looked at her and told her: 'You need to stop looking in the mirror. For one month, don't look at your reflection.' She didn't think he was serious, but she went on a forty day mirror fast. About fifteen days in without looking at her reflection at all, her son's preschool teacher told her, 'you look radiant.' Her not looking at herself actual improved her appearance.

Isn't that crazy? When we focus on our heart instead of our pants' size, people notice. If you're kind to people, if we show we really care, then they don't see our acne or frizzy hair, they see you. I have absolutely nothing against wearing cute clothes, wearing make-up, doing your hair. But I do have something against focusing on those things. If we remember that the way God made us is beautiful, it shows. We, like Jennifer, look radiant. Always, always, always, always, remember that no matter who you are, you are beautiful.

Vote affirmative, you radiant person.

Why you should never, never, never give up: The story behind my persuasive

Once upon a time, my sister Kylie joined speech and debate. I was 8 at the time. The first time I went to a tournament it was in Houston. This is back when NCFCA was the only homeschool league around. This was also 6 1/2 years ago. Now then, fast forward about a year. Since the year before, I have accumulated much more knowledge of this thing called 'forensics.' (Of course, I had no idea that forensics was a word then.) One of the bits of knowledge that both my mother and I learned that there was a magical thing called junior speech. Junior speech is where the younger siblings of competitors (i.e. me) do the various speech events. Not all of the speech events though. There was no extemp, for obvious reasons, also there was no debate. I hear that they had junior debate like in the 90's/early 2000's. And they debated the same resolutions not stuff about the existence of unicorns. Anyways, I did juniors. I did an interp to be exact. A Junie B. Jones interp to be even more exact. And guess what. I got first place! But all I got was a dumb bunny ribbon. Nowadays they have actual trophies. But I just got this floppy little blue ribbon. But that wasn't even the worst part! They didn't even say my name right! And it wasn't just a mispronunciation, nay nay. In fact, when they called my name I wasn't even sure if it was me they were awarding with that dumb blue ribbon. You know what they called me? Jonie Hadley. Apparently one of my judges couldn't wrap her mind around the fact that Hadley is a first name as well as a last. After a moment or two, my mother and/or good friend told me that they were, in fact, calling me up there. So I very nearly bounced up there, not at the time disappointed by the measly ribbon. Now, fast forward to the next tournament.

You know in T.V. shows when there's some award and there's this one person who's expects to get it and they think that there is no possible way they couldn't get it?  And then when someone else gets it, the person who was expecting it stands up and bows or whatever because they think that they got it? Well, that's what happened to me. Sort of. I don't think I actually stood up and did that, but I came very near to it. I didn't cry. Well, I didn't cry at the time. But then I got home and read my ballots. Soul = Crushed.

So then I cried. And cried. And cried some more. I didn’t compete for four more years. I wanted to, sort of, but deep down inside I never wanted to face that kind of rejection and failure again. I didn't even compete when I was old enough for normal competition. But I knew there was no escaping competing this 2012-2013 season. There was no way my mom was going to let me forgo another year. So while figuring out what to do my platform about, I remembered the quote from Thomas Edison: "I have not failed 1,000 times, I have successfully discovered 1,000 ways not to make a light bulb." So I wrote my speech about failure. I wasn't even sure if I it believed myself, but I wrote it. And gave it. And didn't break. I didn't break at the next tournament either. But then (bum bum bum), at the next tournament....

I broke! I broke I broke I broke I broke I broke I broke I broke I broke! And I cried! Only is was tears of joy! Joy! Joy! Joy! And then there was a debate round and I couldn't focus on said debate because I was so nervous! And then I gave my speech! And it was only 9:00 minutes long! But it should've been 10:00! But who cares? And I got another sparkly green glittery check mark! And I just about died! And I got a medal instead of a stupid ribbon! Moving on to the next tournament: I broke to semis! But not to finals but I didn't care because someone who is someone also didn't break and that secretly made me happy! The next two tournaments didn't go so well, but NITOC is in a week so we'll see what happens. I'll write more about how I felt during these times later.

So for the sake of not again crushing my soul, please vote affirmative. Also, I drew that amazing picture on paint for you. So vote affirmative. Now. And comment that you did. Pleasemyconfidencecouldreallreallyuseit,