Air Max

Those are my brand new, spankin' hot (what?) basketball shoes. They are probably one of the most comfortable pair of shoes I have ever worn in my years of playing basketball. My former basketball shoes, which were pink because they supported breast cancer, gave me major blood blisters in my big toe and I'll tell you they were not pretty. At a point I couldn't run around barefoot; I was too embarrassed to show my toes, even though I don't care what others think. They were just that hideous to look at.

My performance when playing is so much better with these babies than the old ones. My favorite part is that they squeak when you run down the court, which makes you sound so professional. It shows that they're real basketball shoes, not fakes, which is what my pinkies were. 

I've been playing summer ball on two teams. One is a team that is my age, and the other is a sixth grade team. The 5th grade one is good. Although most of the players don't have much experience, the ones that do have experience make the game much more interesting. I would say that I'm an experienced player, but that's just me. I don't know what others think about me. Anyhow, our record so far is 2-1. We've won two and lost one to a very talented team. I think we're a pretty good team. However, the sixth grade team isn't all that amazing. We've lost the two games we've already played. Hopefully we'll beat the next team. Wish us luck!

Hopefully I can get a few videos of me playing (or ballin' the court, as my siblings say) in another post. Stay tuned.

♥ Abigail ♥

2 Tens and 3 Ones

Although I look terrible in every single one of those pictures, my 22-year-old sister Meredith--oh wait, she's 23 now, isn't she?--looks like a hottie. Even though we're 11 years apart, we love making each other laugh all the time. For example, we were making Kraft Macaroni & Cheese, and two of the ingredients to put in were milk and margarine butter. So we began saying "milk and margarine!" in scary accents. If you had been there, it would have been pretty hilarious.

Meredith is my hottie sister (obviously) who graduated from nursing school at BSU. She played on a soccer scholarship there until she tore her ACL (a ligament in your knee) for the second time. Then she medically retired from soccer. In her spare time she likes to model (you should see some of the pictures she has of her in her modeling gigs) and blog. You can see her amazing blog here. 

I love it when Meredith comes to town. She loves to cuddle with me while we watch Pride & Prejudice on the 42" HDTV. We always make jokes about certain people. Our most recent joke is about this guy. We love to have our share of Diet Coke and Pepsi. We also love making those boys drop to the ground because of our beauty (well, at least she does). I love her!

And now she's one year older today. 23's a good age, sis. Enjoy it while you have it. You're just as young as the day before, even though the 2 went up one today. You'll still have those boys staring when you pass by. 23 is pretty awesome. Adulthood rocks! I love you, Mer. Stay forever young.

♥ Abigail ♥

P.S. We attack at dawn. 

This is for all of my Boise friends.

Yes, he certainly does.

And so do I.

I love you and miss you LOTS, Boise people!

♥ Abigail ♥

Waka Waka

Being the child in the family that is usually on her computer while everyone else watches TV, it's surprising to see that I actually tune in on the World Cup. I like watching the players fake the goalkeeper out and kick in a perfect goal. It's amazing that there's actually talent like that in this world. 

I'm not a huge soccer player; I played for three years, and then I got started with basketball. My parents also didn't want to pay all that cash for club soccer, which is another reason I quit in second grade, the year before I'd have to play club. Today you can keep playing a basic league after third grade, but back then things were different.

The games are so unpredictable. You have no idea what they're going to do, so you're anxious as the players kick the ball down the huge field. The horns blowing in the stands, the cheering, the anxiety in the air is all so exciting to me. It's incredible how a game can be so nerve racking. 

Secretly I support Argentina, but of course I have to cheer on the USA. I mean, I'm a citizen of the United States. Wouldn't it be a little disrespectful to discourage the team's territory I live on? (If that made any sense.)

I especially enjoyed the song Shakira sang at the opening performance: Waka Waka, which obviously explains the title above. It has good lyrics that shows South Africa's culture. I am a picky music listener, and this song is definitely a plus on my list.

On another note, go Celtics!

♥ Abigail ♥


P.S. If you ever try the Template Designer, think before you apply it to your blog! It's almost impossible to remove the template. If you are having problems removing your template, let me know in a comment and I will give you specific instructions on how to get rid of those dumb templates! 

The Invention of Contacts

Do you notice anything different about me (besides that zit on my nose)?

Of course you can't, because you can't see the difference.

The difference is this:

Instead of wearing those sexy pink and brown glasses and having people notice that I have bad eyes, I have lenses that help me see, and people can't even see it.

Wonderful.

Although putting these lenses in is WAY harder than just slipping glasses on, I like that I don't have to feel it. I feel like my old self again, not a care in the world about bad eyes, perfect vision. I feel like my eyes magically became amazing over the night.

I like that feeling.

Hello contacts. Goodbye, glasses. Good to have known you this past year.

♥ Abigail ♥

Run

Sore legs. Feet aching. Heart pumping. Heavy breathing. Mind exploding. Eyes focused. The gunshot is heard. The runners take off, their bodies moving as fast as they possibly can. As they run, they can see the finish line decorated in bright colors. The crowd is cheering. A boost of confidence arises in the runners' endurances. When they reach the sign that says in bold letters,

FINISH

...they blow up in excitement. They have accomplished what they have been training for. And it feels great.

I was apart of this anxiety today. I ran in the 100-yard dash, the 400 (one lap around the track), and the relay. I placed first in the dash. It was 5th grade boys against 5th grade girls. When Mr. Hill blew his whistle, we all sprinted as fast as our legs could carry us to the neon pink line. Halfway through the boys fell behind; now it was just Emma, one of my best friends, and me. Since she plays soccer she can run like the wind. Since I have long legs and strides I can run like the wind. Everyone was watching. The pressure was on. The final push won me the victory. We were both tied, and when the line started appearing closer and closer, I gave all my might to get to the finish. And I did. Emma and I cheered for each other after the race. It was a moment of pure joy.

About five minutes later was the 400. Only three 5th grade girls participated in the event: me, Cheyenne, who is another friend of mine, and Marci. The whistle blew. The race was starting. I started out slowly, for I was still sore from the dash. Cheyenne was a little ahead of me, while Marci lagged behind. About halfway through the race I got ahead of Chey, and for the rest of the way I was in the lead. I won, even though my throat was dry and my calves were burning. I am definitely not a long-distance runner.

The very last running event was the relay, an event I was in. I teamed up with four other girls: Natalie, Emma (a different one), and Emma (yet another different one). I was the 4th person; I am the fastest. We got off to a good start. Natalie handed the baton to Emma B. Although this wasn't a competitive event, I am the type who likes to win. I was disappointed as Emma ran slowly. She was about three yards behind everyone when she handed the baton to Emma R. She quickly ran, although it wasn't fast enough. I got the baton after everyone else, and I just couldn't seem to catch up. We got last place. Even though I am still a bit disappointed, I know that field day is just for fun.

According to today, I am certain that I'll join track and field in middle school next year.

♥ Abigail ♥

P.S. I joined the www.dictionary.com Word of the Day content. Every day on the sidebar there will be a new word starting tomorrow. Expand your vocabulary!

The End Where I Begin

Summer is almost here, and I am literally falling out of my seat every moment of the day. I am anxious to see what this vacation holds, to hear the school bell calling out summer at 3:40 on June 8th, to feel the cool water below me in the swimming pool, to taste the popsicles and the ice cold lemonade. It's about time we get a break from schoolwork.

Every time I take a look at the old-fashioned clock in the brick-walled classroom, I see middle school coming closer and closer. I see progress. I see maturity building up. I am ecstatic to walk into the 6th grade hallway early in the morning and see lockers lined up on the walls. To me, it feels like my life has been renewed. Come, middle school, come.

While I love elementary school and will miss it so, I am ready for a change. I am ready to step up into a whole new world of teenage life. People remark that middle school is a challenge and that it won't be exciting; I don't let it get to me, for elementary school isn't all that exciting, either. But sometimes I don't want to grow up. Sometimes I want to stay in elementary school where you can sleep in until 8 AM and not have such hard subjects. Yes, elementary school was pretty nice. I'll miss it.

Good-bye, elementary school. Hello, middle school.

♥ Abigail ♥