I would have named this "The Disappearance of Hatsune Miku", except it isn't a Vocaloid disappearing. It's an actual person - to be more precise, my own piano teacher.

Last night, my mother received a call from the mother of a girl who has the same piano teacher as I do. She was wondering if we knew anything about where my piano teacher was and whether she was okay (at her age, it was not completely unreasonable to suspect that perhaps she'd had a stroke, or a heart attack, or some other terrible affliction). The woman's daughter was supposed to have a piano lesson, but she'd been unable to find the piano teacher.

My mother came over to me, rather unsettled, asking if my piano teacher had mentioned anything about there being no piano classes next week or anything along those lines. I was not particularly concerned. I'd wracked my brains and recalled that she'd said something about going to Shanghai, though I couldn't remember whether she was telling me or the student who had his piano lesson right before mine. I'd assumed it wasn't anything important. My teacher, in the past, had always made it clear when she would be gone. She would write that there was no class on such-and-such dates on the little notepad I keep for recording info from the piano classes, and she would say, directly to me, that she would be taking a trip. But not so this time.

I think that she probably thought that she had told the students when she really hadn't. According to my mother, who spoke with someone who is connected to the piano teacher, my teacher has been planning the trip to Shanghai for quite some time now. It wasn't just some spur-of-the-moment decision, a sudden desire to chase an until-now-forgotten childhood dream. But why hadn't she told her students that she wouldn't be here?

It was strange. Very strange. I don't think that my piano teacher is in any danger for her life, at least for the time being. But it seems that her age is starting to show. She is already more than middle-aged, if not quite an old lady. I wonder if maybe she can't remember what she's done and hasn't done anymore. That she's getting her thoughts and what has really happened mixed up. She's becoming like me.

I hope that this is just one incident, that this won't be happening again. I don't want to see someone losing his or herself. It's just too terrible to be alive in body, but to lose your mind, little by little.

Labels: classes, deteriorating, forgetful, losing, mind, missing, past, piano, shanghai, teacher, the disappearance of hatsune miku, trip

On Monday, almost the entire eighth grade of my school hopped on buses and headed to Great America, an amusement park in California.

I hadn't been sure whether to go or not. I thought that it would be wasted on me because I cannot go on rides much scarier than the carousel...Since I have gotten carsick, airsick, and seasick in the past, I was sure that riding on a rapidly-spinning ride or a roller coaster would cause me to pass out, throw up, or some other atrocity.

But I didn't want to stay at school, either. For one thing, I had no idea what we would be doing all day, seeing as all our textbooks had been returned and there was nothing academic left to be done.

Also, I had hoped to gather up my courage to try a roller coaster for the first time. (I vaguely remember having ridden one and having been very upset by the experience, but then again, it could be my imagination and not an actual memory, so I instead consider it to be that I had never been on a roller coaster) Since so many young people seemed to enjoy thrill rides, I figured that it would not kill me to at least try it before dismissing it as undesirable.

I traversed the park with two friends. The first place we headed was the Kidzville. (Supposedly, the rides intended for younger children would be milder than the rest of the ones in the park.)

We rode one of those swings that go around in a circle first. I cannot describe how terrifying it was at the beginning... My head felt unsteady and so did my intestines. It was all I could do to not scream and cry and thrash until someone stopped the ride to let me down. I tried closing my eyes. Then I realized that the ride was really just a pattern. As you went around in a circle, you would swing upwards and then drop a little downwards, and that would repeat. It was easier to deal with the nausea if I closed my eyes right before the highest point and opened them once I started to move upwards again. Towards the end of the ride it was bearable and I could look around with some degree of calmness. But then the ride slowed down and we got out of the seats.

hen we went to the roller coaster in Kidzville, but the man working there compared our heights to a pole and said we were too tall. (Maybe he didn't feel like working, so he figured he'd reject people until he felt like taking customers. I mean, it is kind of waste to run a ride for only three people, but it was still annoying since we were only an inch or two too tall. And we were able to go on the swing ride, even though the same height restrictions are used there) Isn't it ironic? I've been considered too short before. So it's unexpected that I'd be told I was too tall for a change.

I thought I wouldn't be able to try a roller coaster because I figured there were no other small roller coasters in the park, but it turned out there was one, the Woodstock Express, in Snoopy Land. I thought we were going to die several times. (There was a point where the ride seemed to stop and then jerked...) And when it was rushing up and down I thought we were going to crash into something or run off the track... And then when it was going around the bend I thought we were going to fall out of the seats... I was so surprised that I was still alive after the ride. (I must have been crazy because later that day I rode the Woodstock Express a second time.)

Nevertheless, I declined offers to go on certain rides such as Berserker and Centrifuge because they seemed far too dizzying for me to handle. But since I wasn't going on as many rides, one of my friends urged me to go on a ride called Whitewater Falls. I thought I was going to die again when we were going down the slope...I didn't pay attention to where I was going and started walking off but then the people working on the ride told me the exit was the other way. Whoopsy-daisy.

I wonder if someday I'll have enough courage to go on one of the really thrilling rides, like Drop Zone or Invertigo. Or perhaps I never will. Maybe I won't ever do it and it'd turn out I would have been fine even if I had gone on those rides. Perhaps I've been afraid unnecessarily. And that fear may have prevented me from doing a lot of things, from taking risks that would have turned out well for me. But at the same time I wouldn't want to be too reckless. Still, I wish I could be a little braver...

Labels: amusement park, children, courage, danger, death, dizzy, fear, great america, height, irony, nausea, pattern, quote, reckless, rides, risk, roller coaster, school, thrill, trip

There's this song that goes something like "I left my heart in San Francisco" (which I guess I can understand, because I think San Francisco is a nice city, despite apparently having a history of being notorious place). And I thought it was suitable considering what I was thinking about earlier.

The common belief is that being homesick will make a vacation miserable for a person. But I don't think that's necessarily the case. It's true, during the first one or two days of Yosemite, I was trying hard not to burst into desperate sobs, because I was unaccustomed to the rush of Yosemite, the horrible-smelling bathtubs, the thin walls of the tent (meaning that you could hear any loud noise being made elsewhere), and the lack of sympathy from much of the other people (judging from their excited attitudes, since I try to avoid pouring out my heart and soul to people I do not know well).

As is the unusual case here, after a few days, I realized that I would be going home soon, and with this thought in my mind, I acquired a much more positive attitude toward the Yosemite trip. Isn't it funny how wanting to go home can become your motivation? I kind of figured that if I had fun the time would pass faster and I could go home and sleep in my nice old bed and get to take a warm shower (the showers were so cold, it was warmer when you weren't showering than when you were showering...). And in this way I was able to enjoy the trip after all, despite being very paranoid for much of the time. I was very fearful during the hiking when we had to clamber up rocks (how precarious! One false move and you would fall all the way to the valley floor) and also when exploring caves (you could slip and break your bones or bang your head on the ceiling! Or you would at least end up with really dirty pants and gloves). But at the same time feeling the adrenaline rush was a good thing since it made me feel adventurous. For much of my life I had been craving something exciting. This is very contradictory considering that I'm a person that likes normality and regular comforting rhythms in their life.

Just the other night, I closed my eyes. I began to imagine that I was back in Yosemite again. I could imagine the covers on my bed turning into the top of the sleeping bag, and the quiet of the room turning into the annoying dripping and banging of the heater... For some reason this gave me a kind of comfort while also making me feel very nostalgic. I wonder if perhaps the reason why I keep waking up really early, like 7:00 am, when I don't need to get up until 7:45, is that my mind thinks, "Oh no! I am so late for the breakfast at Yosemite!" but that's not the case at all.

My parents said that maybe some other time, like in 2011, we could go to Yosemite again. I'd like to go back to Yosemite, but I feel like if I went back there, I wouldn't want to leave. I'd like my days to pass in a national park, the way some people spend a lot of time in Yellowstone, watching the wolves with their binoculars. I'd like to be somewhere where I can see the stars as clear as day and where the trees make the air delightfully fresh. And as dear as home is to me, that place is not here.

Labels: adrenaline, adventure, breakfast, danger, excitement, homesick, late, memories, morning, national park, nostalgia, shower, sleeping bag, song, sounds, surprise, trip, yellowstone, yosemite

This past Sunday, I changed the time of my piano class, because my mother wanted me to come with her to attend a seminar being held locally. The seminar was about getting into one of those great Ivy League colleges, which is what most of the seminars I have heard of seem to be about. I was not impressed by similar seminars I had attended in the past (though my experience in this is certainly not vast; I have only been to a few "How to get into college!" seminars) and so I was very reluctant to go...I thought it would be a hassle to have to change the time of my piano lesson. I don't like to have my piano class later in the day because I think that my teacher in general feels more benevolent in the morning. (But my dad argued that she should be talkative in the evening because she would get lonely in the nighttime. Hmm, personally, I think by the end of the day she would be tired of teaching and would not be in the mood for side conversation.)

The lesson was changed to the evening, 7:45 pm. At the end of the class, I exited my teacher's apartment and noticed that there were some bugs trying to get close to the light next to her door. It seems that insects, particularly moths, are always eager to get as close as possible to any light source, even if they end up burning up in the process.

I feel that everyone is, in the end, attracted to light. Some of us may be nocturnal, but that dose not mean that we live without light, for even at nighttime, there is a little light, whether it be from the moon and stars or from something we have created here on this Earth. And as damaging as the light may be, particularly the sunlight, which can destroy our eyes and skin, we still need it. It's kind of a strange relationship.

I remember during my Yosemite trip in March that the nighttime had frightened me. The flashlights of the students kept blinding me and sometimes it was quite difficult to identify figures in the dark. I felt keenly aware of the dangers of tumbling into a ditch or tripping on a tree branch and spraining my ankle, for in the daylight it was quite easy to see this things, but in the darkness everything had an ominous aura to it that had not been present during the daylight hours. One time I woke up during the night because I drank too much water earlier and unfortunately needed to use the bathroom, and looking outside, I saw that there was not a soul to be seen, the lights appearing rather eerie as they shined upon the ground. It was peaceful, but in a way it was also scary, reminding me of a ghost town.

I wonder what it would be like to be nocturnal. Those beings who are surrounded by so much darkness see a very different world. Our world of daylight is bright, filled with color and vibrancy, in some ways comforting and in other ways overwhelming. But without the sun lighting your surroundings, colors fade, and your world seems to be in greyscale. You notice shapes and movement more than you do the fine details. It is harder to rely on your eyes when their capabilities seem to have been simplified. Every sound seems that much louder to your ears, even if you are not listening intently on purpose. You feel your way around to try and diminish the dangers.

Being unable to see the great spectrum of colors seen in light, I wonder if perhaps it is a harsh existence. Color makes things alive, beautiful...And you develop your preferences for colors, perhaps preferring the bold, passionate red, or the more soothing blues and greens, or perhaps you like the neon versions of colors. Or perhaps you like black, that one color said to complement every other. At the same time, without the light and color, you focus on other things, what you hear and touch and feel within yourself. With all these visual distractions during the daytime, I wonder if perhaps it is us being of the daytime that are missing out.

Labels: change, class, college, colors, danger, darkness, ghost town, light, night, piano, preference, seminar, senses, sight, sound, time, touch, trip, variety, yosemite

It's a book by Katherine Paterson, which I read a long time ago, sometime back in elementary school. I don't think I fully understood what I was reading. But I doubt I'll be rereading the book to get another look at it (there are so many good books in the world out there that I haven't read, and I'd like to get to those first).

Well, I am not a fan of Jacob Black from Twilight (or, more specifically, the actor for him in the movies, Taylor Lautner) but I ended up with him on April Fool's Day. On DeviantArt, every user's avatar was replaced with a joke avatar. The possibilities were Edward Cullen, Jacob Black, Team Seeker, or Lady Gaga...It was so hard to tell who was who. It goes to show how I rely on pictures to recognize things. It's hard for me to remember so many names.

This week is my spring break. I'll be staying home for the break. Seeing as I had a trip to the Grand Canyon/Las Vegas in February, and a Yosemite trip in March, I think I've had enough of the excitement of traveling. (And it is costly, so I was hoping to save up more money for my retirement by not spending it on travel costs now.) Also, I do have some homework which I need to work on. I'm rather reluctant to do research for an upcoming project because this is supposed to be my time off, but I guess it can't be helped. Work must be done, and someone's gotta do it.

Unfortunately, I had the misfortune of catching a cold, presumably from a student at my school (due to frequent changes in weather, some students have fallen ill). I really hate having to spend my time off sick. Still, it's better than being sick during the school days, since then you either have to miss school and make it up, or you have to go to school and be miserable all day long. Indeed, my history teacher has gotten sick several times this school year and he was always having to spit in the trash can. (Not pleasant to watch. But he said it was either that or he "literally stopped breathing". Actually, I think a few students didn't think it was such a bad idea.)

I was meaning to write more, but it seems like all of a sudden my ideas have dried up, like an old well. I only hope that if I keep typing, my ideas will return to me, and this will not be a waste of your time. (Time is money, and time is what we want most but use worst. So of course you must understand its value.)

Recently, I finished watching an anime called R.O.D. the TV. The ROD part stands for Read or Die (sounds rather disturbing at first, and it is related to the storyline, but it's not horror). I had been reluctant to watch it at first, it being a fairly old anime from 2003-2004. However, I started watching it one time when my mom's friends were over (they had two children) and found it to be more enjoyable than I expected. Sometimes I don't think an anime will be good, but I decide to give it a chance and watch it, and then it turns out to be better than I expected. So you should always try something out before you dismiss it completely since you could later regret not doing it.

Just to give you a bit of an idea, R.O.D. the TV is about three sisters who are paper masters that can control paper. The sisters are supposed to be "bodyguards" for an author, and end up involved in the plans of Mr. Joker and many others, who are trying to revive a great man named Mr. Gentlemen. When I was younger (and I still do this sometimes) I'd often imagine myself with some kind of special power. It's too bad that it never does happen in real life that way. What we think of as magical is often Mother Nature at work. But at the same time we can never let go of any fanciful dreams. (Just look at all the science fiction and fantasy books that are published to this day. In fact, fantasy is a pretty popular genre of books.)

Labels: anime, april fool's day, book, break, deviantart, expectations, fantasy, homework, jacob black, read or die, rod the tv, sick, spit, surprise, teacher, time, travel, trip, twilight, value

Due to an astronomy lab we've been doing in my science class, I go outside at night to look at the moon and record the phase and location. In the beginning, the skies were clear, and it was easy to see the moon. But then clouds moved in and I couldn't see it for a while. When the sky cleared up again, I still couldn't find the moon. It was a strange experience. The stars were still there, but the moon was nowhere to be seen. I thought perhaps it was blocked by a building or a tree, but no matter where I walked I couldn't see it.

In the morning, though, I saw the moon. It's just so strange, seeing it up there in that vast expanse of blue sky, instead of in the mist of a black blanket dotted with stars, the way it is at nighttime. I was rather annoyed at the moon, because I am only supposed to record when I see it at a certain time (the teacher wants us to try to view the moon at the same time each night that we go out). It showed up in the morning but refused to come out at nighttime.

In class today, one of my fellow students told the teacher that she had gone out at night and was also unable to see the moon. My teacher then got the attention of the class to explain this phenomenon.

My teacher said, "I have told the moon to go away for a while. Us science teachers are very powerful, so I have made it disappear. Look carefully every night and eventually I might let it come back out again." Another one of my classmates remarked, "I looked in the morning and I saw the moon." My teacher's reply was, "Ah! You cheated! Well, the moon is naughty and it tries to come out before it's supposed to."

So there you have it. A highly scientific explanation for why the moon is not visible sometimes, even without any clouds covering it. (If you want to know the real reason, you had better look it up since I only have a theory about it and it would be unwise to take that as fact.)

I was just looking at a picture of an exploding alarm clock on a magazine cover (Discover magazine March 2010 issue, if you want to know) and I was reminded of what of my "experiences" at Yosemite. It was difficult to get to sleep on the first night. Some kids had not gone to bed and were making a racket outside, or were giggling in their cabins. The heater in our cabin kept making some sort of rattling and banging noises. I kept sweating from the heater since I wasn't used to having it that warm. And then there were the two alarm clocks I had brought. They kept on ticking...My clock at home ticks too, but I never really noticed it. At Yosemite it seemed they were quite loud. One of my cabinmates said she wasn't used to it since she has a digital clock, which doesn't tick. After the first night, though, we become more accustomed to the loud nights and were able to get to sleep more easily. (And anyways, we were tired out from the strenuous daily hikes, or something.)

I have been rather concerned about my ability to remember to do my homework recently, especially the French homework. I forgot to do my French homework and remembered it during the night once, so I got up earlier in the morning to do it. And then today I was supposed to bring sunglasses because we were discussing summer/seaside activities in French class, but I forgot to bring those as well. (Then again, I'm not exactly sure where the sunglasses are, I will have to find them. I don't like to wear sunglasses. Although I like the cool way that they look, they always seem to slip down my face or otherwise get in my way. And I don't like how everything seems so dark or is tinted a weird color.) I wonder if my memory is getting bad or if I'm getting too careless. Both options are rather unpleasant.

Labels: astronomy, careless, clock, digital, distraction, forgetful, french, homework, magazine, magic, moon, powers, science, sky, sleep, sounds, teacher, ticking, trip, yosemite

The title is inspired by a song by the Carpenters. Ever heard of that band? It's made up of two people, two siblings. The brother is still alive, but sadly, the sister died.

Rain doesn't normally upset me, and though I dislike Mondays, usually that won't depress me too much either. But last Monday wasn't an easy day, and it was a rainy day, so I thought it would make sense to use this title.

This past week, I've been gone on a school trip to Yosemite National Park, so I haven't been able to write anything. On Sunday morning, I boarded a bus headed to Yosemite. It's a pretty long drive there, probably four hours or more. I took a carsick pill called Dramamine to help me out with the carsickness.

I wonder if medicine really does work or not. Sometimes it's just people believe something will help them, and because of the positive feeling, their health seems to improve. I'm not sure whether medicine does any good or if it's only the "placebo effect". Perhaps the world may never know (like that thing about "How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie pop?).

Once I was at Yosemite, I had to adjust to a lot of things that I wasn't used to. For instance, dinner for me was at 5:05 pm, and breakfast at 7:05 am. I usually have breakfast not long from 8 am and I have dinner at around 7 pm. And I had to sleep with a sleeping bag, which I wasn't accustomed to, because I have never been camping. (Which is good - I don't think I could put up with going to the bathroom in the Great Outdoors for long XD) But the sleeping bag wasn't too bad, it was actually kind of cozy. It got too hot, though, when the heater was on in my cabin.

I kind of expected it to be like science camp. At science camp, you didn't need an alarm clock because someone would wake you up if you didn't get up on your own. There was a bathroom that was fairly clean and it was conveniently located, so you wouldn't have to get up in the night, wake someone up, and walk through the snow or melting puddles. You wouldn't hike so much that you'd be really tired and you'd always have your time managed well for you. And you didn't need to get a lot of gear, not even hiking boots were required.

Yosemite is sort of similar, but sort of not. The food is in buffet form (that's nice, since I can just a get a little to try something and see if I like it first). You're expected to meet up with people at a certain time (though there's almost always someone missing or late). You have to manage your own time to be able to complete a journal, take showers, and get enough sleep. And there is a lot of hiking and climbing and other physical activity.

Monday was a hard day for me. I am a special case since my cabin mates are in a different rotation than I am (meaning that they had different meal times and different evening programs). I was really stressed waiting for them in my cabin, and I kept thinking that something horrible must've happened to them (I didn't realize back then that their evening program was later than mine). I was also annoyed about the cold showers and stinky bathroom. And it was really noisy at nighttime, making it hard to sleep. I got really homesick, thinking of my parents and comfort and having a dependable routine. And this homesickness didn't really go away. During science camp I was having such a blast that I didn't think of my home much.

On Monday, there were many kinds of weather. We had rain, then hail, and then even snow. The snow is beautiful, that's for sure. But it was hard to appreciate when I was so worried and stressed. I wasn't able to relax until maybe about Wednesday or Thursday. By then I realized that I would be going home soon, and so I was in a much better mood. (Kind of funny how sometimes you have to be waiting for something to enjoy yourself.)

There were a lot of things I didn't like about the trip, but there were things that made it better, too. Things that made me dry my tears and smile and put my best foot forward. Being outdoors was great. I didn't really hike much or even go outside that much before. I thought I'd be tired easily from hiking. It's true that I was usually pretty worn out from lugging around a heavy backpack (too used to the roller backpack by now) but I wasn't lagging too horribly behind, either. And seeing the mountains and waterfalls and getting the occasionally opportunity to sit by myself and think was calming for me. I also got to try so many new things, like eating hummus (never tried it before, but it wasn't bad), eating celery (also wasn't as bad as I thought), eating sunbutter (yes, I'm eating lots of new things. Sunbutter is like peanut butter but made from sunflower seeds), and going cross-country skiing... I'm really starting to realize that I don't need to have limits, boundaries, things holding me back. I can do my best and achieve so much more. I just have to be openminded and live life to the fullest. After all, even if you have more than one life, you'll never remember the past ones, so of course you have to do everything that you can.

Oh, and going on the trip makes you appreciate home. Many of us longed for warm showers. I also heard some students saying they missed eating rice (they had rice at the buffet, but it was like fried rice and things like that. No sushi, dumplings, or miso soup, that's for sure). I believe that going to Yosemite was a good experience for me, even if I still feel there would've have been a lot of room for improvement. (I heard there was a bathroom with ants in it.) It's something you'll remember forever, after all.

Labels: backpack, effort, food, hiking, home, homesick, life, monday, new experience, placebo, problem, rain, rainy days and mondays, sleeping bag, song, the carpenters, tootsie, trip, weather, yosemite

Soon I'll be going on a school trip to Yosemite, where we will spend our days hiking and writing in our "journals". There's a lot of things that I needed to buy for this trip, because I'm not much of an outdoorsman. In fact, I've never really been camping out in a tent, seeing as my mom prefers civilization (and I guess I would really miss indoor plumbing, myself). But it'd still be nice to just try it, you know? For the sake of having that experience. It's not good to judge something you don't understand.

There's a whole lot of things that I needed to buy for Yosemite, including...
- A sleeping bag (I almost never sleep at other people's houses)
- Hiking boots
- Waterproof pants
- Waterproof jacket
- Snow gaiters (well, I guess I don't REALLY need them, but they're useful to have. They're like half pant legs that you can put on.)

There's probably a few more things that I have forgotten to mention. But anyways, I'll probably never use most of the things I bought for Yosemite after I come back. We don't really go hiking much in the first place (probably because I didn't like to do it...Too hot outside, I usually burned up my energy in the beginning through running, etc. Not that it isn't nice once in a while. In science camp back in fifth grade, we had the chance to hike alone, and it was really relaxing).

One of the things we needed to get was a bandana. Apparently, when we're out hiking, we'll stop to eat lunch, and we'll be using the bandanas as "plates" for our food. I set to thinking about bandanas.

Bandanas seem to have many uses. They can be used as hankerchiefs if you have allergies, you can wear them to look sort of like a cowboy (and you could also wear it if you're sick or people around you are sick as a kind of mask), you could put them on your head...I'm not sure if people usually do this, but somehow or other I got the notion that people who have gone through chemotherapy and thus lost their hair tend to wear bandanas to cover their heads.

To me, this gives the bandana a lot of meaning. The bandana is a sign of struggle, showing the battle between people and cancer and their fight to survive. It is a visible symbol of pain, fear, and desperation. At the same time, bandanas also show hope - a little hope that a person will pull through, fight off the cancer, and be able to resume living their life again. Maybe things will never be the same. Perhaps the scars, physical and mental, will always be there. But it's something precious, getting to have a second chance.

Bandanas are pretty cheap to get, but they're not necessarily useless. I hope you're paying attention things and what kind of purpose they really serve. I guess that's what teachers mean when they're saying, "You should ask under the surface questions!" You should still pay attention at school, even if you find it boring, because you never know, something important might be said.

My history teacher sometimes tells us stories, such as about having to transport a cake, being a valet, gambling in Las Vegas, and so on. He says we should pay attention since there is something to be learned from his stories; they're not just for entertainment. I think I might want to be a teacher sometime.

Here are some of my possible careers:
- Writer (well, that may have to be just something I do in my free time, what with the "starving artists" thing)
- Photographer (again, only if I can make a living off of it. Nowadays lots of people have huge Nikon or Canon black cameras)
- Interior designer or travel show host (too bad those jobs aren't that common)
- Ice cream shop owner (or some other kind of shop, with yummy food XD)
- Fashion designer (it'd be fun to come up with things, and I'd like to steer people away from those really low colors and tight clothing. x_x )

Labels: bandana, camping, cancer, career, chance, chemotherapy, future, hiking, hope, learn, outdoor, science camp, shopping, sign, significance, struggle, symbol, trip, useful, yosemite

It wasn't really thin, actually. It was pretty thick. The ice I'm talking about here is the ice in a local ice rink.

I haven't gone ice skating for a long time. I think that the last time was probably at least a few years ago, if not more. I'd been meaning to go, but I never got around to it. (I wanted to go in the summer because it would be a nice way to cool off. However, my parents are working, and I am not allowed to go far by myself, so unless there was a holiday like Independence Day, there was no chance. And if it was a holiday, it would probably be crowded)

I was surprised by how many people were at the rink. My dad says that it was less than average, which I think is even more startling. Most of the people there were young people (I mean people who are young enough not to be in college yet, and such). In fact, I saw a couple of people I recognized, such as a girl who is a friend of the person I walk home with, and some classmates of mine.

It was really awkward getting started. I could only stumble along, clinging to the side of the rink. This didn't work too well because there isn't much of a handhold. I've heard there are rinks out there that actually have a wooden bar running around the perimeter so you can hold on to it, but here all you can do is try to hold on to the half-wall (on top of it is some glass since the rink is sometimes used for playing hockey). It was especially hard considering that the gloves and mittens we had brought for ice skating did not allow my fingers much flexibility.

After a while I kind of got the hang of it, just keeping my feet parallel, and occasionally kicking the ice with my left foot to keep me moving. Sometimes I messed up my footing and I'd flail about wildly before managing to get my balance. My dad and I are afraid of falling, unlike the little kids (who dash about and all, and some of them cry when they hit the ground) and the other young people, so we can't go so fast.

Since it's the holidays, once in a while the rink's lights are turned off and the strobe lights (is that the right term? Don't know what to call them) went on, and it was sort of like a disco, in a way. The young people gave a cry of delight, but I said, "Noooooo!" When it's dark and there are colorful lights moving around, I get a little distracted from my skating. Besides, I heard people who have seizures don't react well to things like that. (But I guess it's pretty unlikely that someone with epilepsy would've been there anyhow)

Less than two hours after arriving, we left the rink and went home. I expected to be able to skate longer than that, but it is surprisingly tiring, particularly for people like me who haven't gone skating for a long time. My dad said it was good we left early, otherwise our legs would be really tired at nighttime. This turned out to be true, and I felt discomfort during the night from my aching legs...

My mother has lately been trying to get me to shop for my Yosemite trip. Most of the 8th grade goes on a trip to Yosemite each year. It's meant to be educational, since we'll be in the great outdoors, but really people are just excited to be away from home, in a place that snows (Yosemite does get snow, after all, but it doesn't snow where I live). I'm really not that excited about the trip, because...
1. I've never slept in a sleeping bag.
2. I don't know if I can handle the hiking. (I'm always paranoid, thinking I will fall to my death. And I hate going uphill.)
3. Apparently we don't get to use the new cabins, which upsets me. (Are they not ready yet? Or do they just not want to let us stay in the new cabins?)
4. I don't want to get attacked by a teacher. (One of my old teachers often goes on the Yosemite trip and he sometimes destroys kids. No joke.)
5. Carsickness! It's a several hour drive just to get to Yosemite, and it's uphill. I will probably be pale and half-dead by the time we arrive. (It is unlikely that I will upchuck because I have self control and try to avoid throwing up. Haha!) I'll probably have to take medicine for motion sickness, if that helps any.

However, it might be fun, because I'll have plenty of photo opportunities, and I did enjoy science camp. Science camp was what I went to in fifth grade, since everyone in the fifth grade went. We stayed in cabins (but we slept in beds) and we hiked around. It was a lot of fun, actually. The food wasn't too bad either. I guess you never know. I'll have to find out in March.

Labels: cabins, carsick, falling, hiking, holidays, ice skating, lights, people, rink, science camp, seizure, sleeping bag, sore, trip, trouble, yosemite

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