Angst. Stress. Awkward bodies. Braces. Mean Girls. Boys that only look at your breasts. Being superior at sports. Crushes.
Some things change from Jr. High. Praise the baby Jesus that they do! Braces are a thing of the long past, and my body is strong and fit, and by no means awkward. Angst is no longer prevalent, daily.
Some things never change. Mean girls grow into mean bitter women, I have learned how to steer clear of them, and boys that stare at your breasts, yup no different, another thing that has not changed, those are the men you still would not touch with a ten foot pole.
Crushes.
- informal. - an intense but usually short-lived infatuation.
Pure Jr. High Bliss.
One need not be in Jr.High School to enjoy one. I am far past Jr.High, but enjoy I will. There is no potential for the crush to go anywhere, I have children and woodsy, athletic rock climbing men might not be so interested in my children, however I can enjoy the warm fuzzy of a wee little crush.
26 March 2007
23 March 2007
Happy St. Pat's!
In honour of St. Patricks Day.
We are spectacularly gifted at being able to grow collosal mountains of clover out the front, for all the gifted gardeners who drive by to tsk.
Cheers.
05 March 2007
Half Off.
Usually I love it.
Half price books. Duty Free shopping. TJ Maxx. Tuesday Morning. Myers Boxing Day sales. Outlet malls. End of season clearance.
Never to be underrated. Always a bargain to be had.
We play soccer. We are a team made up of older people, it's relative - we are all in our 30's or 40's. We play in the city league. It is fun and social, and we like to win. Always. Who doesn't, ok, aside from the throwback beatnik hippies really? So we play. Hard at times. There is bruising, and joints that groan in displeasure for a day or so after the match. But again we like to win. I am willing to run beyond my age to chase down and prevent someone from getting their dream shot. And whichever hemisphere I live in I choose to play with persons of like mind. I want to play smart, wisdom does come as our brains wrinkle. So my sweeper is a bit OCD in his directions to players on the pitch in front of him, insessently calling out to go right, drop, stay tight, take him wide ... yada, yada,yada. I am not lacking in confidence in my abilities so there is no squashing for me. My time in Oz, taught me many things, give as well as I get has been invaulable, in a friendly cheeky way rather than with malice.
I speak often with my children about sportsmanship. One of my kids struggles, taking every play to heart and being intensely competitive, the poor child can not help it, the genetics came from two very athletic parents, we've handicapped him from birth. So I take note. I teach and practice good sportsmanship always, it would be a disservice to the child to do any less. He is a cherib, it would be devestating to set a sore example for him. I have high standards. So I play, competitive yet aware.
Tonight, we played infants. Not really, half were in Uni and half in high school. But young, far before their brains have fully developed. One thing as you age becomes aparrent ... play to your strengths. Play smart rather than fast. We are old, but we can look at a pitch and see the pass. And play it. We were up by one. Blissfull really when two of the kids goals we handed them on silver platters through a lapse in concentration - happens as we age. \
So.
We've 7 minutes left.
The youngens are getting frustrated and aggro. Best to just politely hold them out until the ref calls time.
And remember that with age comes brain wrinkles and the wisdom that it's just a social game and there's no need for a tantrum over a soccer match at 7pm on a Sunday evening.
Half off is not so great at is used to be, they were half our age but a win is a win, anyway it is just a game.
Cheers.
Half price books. Duty Free shopping. TJ Maxx. Tuesday Morning. Myers Boxing Day sales. Outlet malls. End of season clearance.
Never to be underrated. Always a bargain to be had.
We play soccer. We are a team made up of older people, it's relative - we are all in our 30's or 40's. We play in the city league. It is fun and social, and we like to win. Always. Who doesn't, ok, aside from the throwback beatnik hippies really? So we play. Hard at times. There is bruising, and joints that groan in displeasure for a day or so after the match. But again we like to win. I am willing to run beyond my age to chase down and prevent someone from getting their dream shot. And whichever hemisphere I live in I choose to play with persons of like mind. I want to play smart, wisdom does come as our brains wrinkle. So my sweeper is a bit OCD in his directions to players on the pitch in front of him, insessently calling out to go right, drop, stay tight, take him wide ... yada, yada,yada. I am not lacking in confidence in my abilities so there is no squashing for me. My time in Oz, taught me many things, give as well as I get has been invaulable, in a friendly cheeky way rather than with malice.
I speak often with my children about sportsmanship. One of my kids struggles, taking every play to heart and being intensely competitive, the poor child can not help it, the genetics came from two very athletic parents, we've handicapped him from birth. So I take note. I teach and practice good sportsmanship always, it would be a disservice to the child to do any less. He is a cherib, it would be devestating to set a sore example for him. I have high standards. So I play, competitive yet aware.
Tonight, we played infants. Not really, half were in Uni and half in high school. But young, far before their brains have fully developed. One thing as you age becomes aparrent ... play to your strengths. Play smart rather than fast. We are old, but we can look at a pitch and see the pass. And play it. We were up by one. Blissfull really when two of the kids goals we handed them on silver platters through a lapse in concentration - happens as we age. \
So.
We've 7 minutes left.
The youngens are getting frustrated and aggro. Best to just politely hold them out until the ref calls time.
And remember that with age comes brain wrinkles and the wisdom that it's just a social game and there's no need for a tantrum over a soccer match at 7pm on a Sunday evening.
Half off is not so great at is used to be, they were half our age but a win is a win, anyway it is just a game.
Cheers.
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