Productivity=3 Showers

My first shower of the day was earned by running cross country this morning. That was pretty fun because I got to run/walk with a really cool girl named Felicia who is pretty much one of the coolest people i've ever met! She loves AMAZING music that I had never heard of before I got a CD from her(which i'm listening as I type), and when I showed Linds and Jana, they were impressed as well. We talked about poloroid cameras from etsy.com, Top Gear, and Simon & Garfunkle. It was a good run around the Voltaire loop.
My second shower today was earned by going to Home Depot with Mom and getting a bunch of plants for the house, inside and in. I even got an orchid for my bathroom, and let me tell you, they are NOT CHEAP! $20 bucks for one plant!!! Oh my, but they are beautiful...It quickly turned into my project to prep, plant and position all of the plants. Let me repeat. ALL of the 13 plants, some inside, some out, some small, some BIG. Okay, Mom did help a little with moving stuff around and deciding where to position things. Lets just say, she didn't have to take a shower afterwards.
My third and final shower ajourd-hui was because of FENCING! Lovely fencing. Elegant fencing. Sweaty, sweaty fencing. Remember, my dear Utans, this is Arizona we're talking about. We wear four layers on our torso. 1. Outside jacket (quite thick) 2. Plastron, or underarm protector which is sort of like a jacket for half or your body (even thicker) 3. Chest protector, configured like a bra and quite awkward to put on with about 25 people in the room you've never met before (hard plastic) and finally 4. The shirt you came in. You've also got a big, sweaty mask on that probably close to a hundred people have worn before you. Yick to the umpth degree! Well, that's about it when it comes to complaining about the heat, but afford me one more commiseration. I use the epee (the heaviest weapon in a fencer's arsenal) and have to hold it with only my fingers on my right hand, and your pointer finger and your thumb do most of the work. It hurts. Ooooookay, I'm done complaining for real now.
Despite what it sounds like from that explanation, I actually love the sport. I had a really good bout with a little-ish asian boy. He must have been about ten. Fencing is all about tecnique, and this boy was fencing really messily. He is about a head shorter than I am, so that makes manipulating his blade a little complicated, so when he came at me with his blade pointed right at me and below my elbow, I was extremely confused for about four thouches (when one gets hit and we start over). I finally regrouped and tested him out a bit, being agressive, offensive, and finally not doing anything at all. Once I got a bead on his weaknesses, I just did what I had been taught, and amazingly, it worked! Once we had practiced a bit, the actual bout began and we were playing to five touches. I actually think I won them all. Pretty satisfying. I think I'll go this Thursday for open bouting. There's this really tall guy who can't be older than 17 who is a pretty messy fencer as well. I'm going to try my hand at slicing him up, too.

Fencing Injury Tally: One purplish bruise on my left thigh, and what felt like an open wound on my right shin, but turns out to be absolutely nothing.

Strange

Boy, is it strange not being able to ask Shelley if she can zip me up or something. I'm missing my Buster! No but seriously, I didn't have the opportunity to borrow any cloths because I can only wear what Shelley left behind. I know the males in the family will have no idea why this is such a big deal (or a deal at all really, because it's not that big) because their sunday wardrobe is pretty much the same every week. Well, hate to break it to you, but girls have a lot of components to their sunday wardrobe, and sometimes in a crunch, borrowing is necessary. It is also very strange not going in the Suburban. I've gotten used to going everywhere in that beast, but now I'm stuck with the Lotus and the Beamer. Oh Darn!

Yesterday Mom and Pop were getting on me about my messy room and not exercising, respectively. In an act of pure defiance I donned my sports apparel, did the rowing machine, took a shower, and

cleaned up all the cloths in my room. Take that, parents!

Message to Mom: We can stop going to Costco because we don't need to feed 8 people any more.

Message to Dad: 1% is not Skim, I have no idea how you could mix the two up. It is simply beyond me.

Yours Sincerely,

-Brooke

I Have To Admit...

I have to admit that I saw it coming. How could you not, being the youngest and all. I throughly enjoyed the last year with my older sister, but with every party we went to, every time we went out to eat, the looming separation hung over me. In the last couple weeks when frantic packing ensued, I was in a mild state of shock. When I was offered the chance to drive up to Utah with her and come back down a few days later with Mom, I had to think about it. I decided to go up, even if it was just to help out with the moving process (and hang some of Lindsay's awesome friends). Consequently, Dad was left all alone on Father's day, but I had cooked him a steak dinner a couple nights before, so I didn't feel too bad.

Just to be clear, this is not a sympathy blog. All I aim to do is to stay connected with my brothers and sisters (And my cute little niece, incoming nephew, and their mother). Please join me on a journey no Esplin has seen before (at least not from our family that is). The Diary of a Lonely Kid! Just kidding. I welcome you all to It's Gotta Get Worse for a Day!!!

BTW: The name is derived from a song by Bishop Allen called Rain. The entire phrase is "If it's ever gonna get any better (which you will notice is in the URL), it's gotta get worse for a day." So don't give me flack.