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| So I'm taking a temporary Xanga hiatus.There's a whole lot going on right now - family-wise, friend-wise, and life-wise - and so I'm just going to take a break for a little bit. I'll still be on Facebook, and most of you who read this have Facebook, so it's not like I'll be totally out of contact.
Apologies - see you when this is done.
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| Nationals was innnncredible.But less in a not-credible way as it was in a wonderful, awe-inspiring way. I will never, ever cease to be amazed by these people I am blessed enough to call friends. They continue to fill me with a joy I cannot compare to anything else. It was completely worth the drive to be there - at least for the Friday I was with those people, I was in love with life. To put it in less eloquent terms - it was pretty spiffy.
[Shout-out to some of the most amazing people on earth: Andrew, Marcus, Rachel, Philip, Brandon, Mark, Will, Alan, Marshall, Adam, Garrett, Amy, Samantha, Kristen, Jonathan, Monica, Brisa, Alicia, Paige, Rebekah, Allison, and so many others I'm completely forgetting! Shaun was much missed. Also deserving of a shout-out is Will's little brother Seth, who was pretty amazing and has a boldness that reminds me so very much of his brother.]
I got there in time to hang out in the basement with Marcus and Brandon, drag them both upstairs to find Philip, find Philip and hug him more than once, run back into the basement so he could get food, and run off with Marcus and Brandon to watch LD finals. Philip arrived during the 1AC and was none too pleased no one had notified him the round had begun. Oh well. ^_^
Finals was between Marla Blum and Jason Hughey, and it was a wonderful round - congratulations to Ms. Blum for her well-won title of LD Champion. 
Team Policy finals was between Trevor Anderson/Katie Philpott and Sam Hoel/Allison McCarty. I missed the 1AC due to my fraternizing outside the building (Marcus was highly impressed with my 1AC flow of "Abol"), but caught the rest of the round and was exceedingly proud of my lovely, lovely friend Allison for taking the round and earning her title as Policy Champ. Congrats to you too, love!
Our region did well in speech, too, including claiming the title of National Duo Champions for the second year in a row. Katie Riley also won Expos, and Alan took second in Original Oratory. Andrew placed ninth (one place away from being in finals) in Dramatic and Original Oratory, Sarah Gervais took second in Open Interp, and...basically, they all did great. Yeah. They were pretty fantastic. I love my region.
It was sad to say goodbye to all our graduating people, though - but we all know they'll be back to judge, so it's not goodbye, it's see you later. Maybe much later, but later nonetheless.
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On a lighter note, I'm finally almost entirely done with the chicken pox - everything's healed, scabbed, and come off, so now I'm just waiting examining some of the scars I know I'll have. Thankfully, though, I look normal again and can bring myself to go out in public. Vanity, vanity, all is vanity...
On a heavier note, I gave chicken pox to my brother. He is currently praying that whoever gave it to me originally will burn forever.
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| I am extraordinarily saddened right now.Nationals is going on, and some absolutely incredible debaters have had some absolutely incredible disappointments. There is much depression here and there. I'm leaving tomorrow, staying with the Rodgers, and coming home on Saturday, but I am so very sad that I couldn't be there today to be the arms of consolation for quite a few people.
It makes my heart hurt.
[However, I am just about done with the chicken pox. This pleases me.]
What do you do when you can't help someone feel better?
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| I have chicken pox.
...Chicken pox.
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| Hmm.Rain.
No rain.
Rain.
Hard rain.
No rain.
All within a period of about five minutes
(...And now it's raining again.)
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My thermometer no longer believes in global warming. This morning it assured me that the temperature trend had, in fact, steadied.
Perhaps there's hope for the liberals.
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It's stopped raining.
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This has been such a confusing month. For the most part, full of joy and laughter and love, but now, for the past week or so...I don't know.
Don't get me wrong - I'm still absolutely in love with what has happened this May. It's been incredible. Really incredible. It's just really hard to be content during so many endless trials dealing with family and friends and people you thought were friends - trials thrown at you right after moments of complete peace and calm.
I guess it's like the rain right now. Off and on, hard and soft, brutal and comforting.
Last Tuesday, I saw Ashlie again - the disabled eighteen year old girl in the nursing home where I sing every fourth Tuesday (I finally found out her name is spelled with an 'ie' instead of a 'ey'). The staff hadn't been letting her out of her room for the past couple of months to come hear us, but for some reason, the last time we sing there before September, they let her listen.
She is an amazingly beautiful girl, surrounded by dozens of elderly people very seriously on the brink of death.
But Ashlie is different.
Ask any staffer in the room and they'll tell you she was in an accident, was in a coma for a long time, and then finally woke up severely mentally hindered. They'll tell you her motor skills are predominantly dead, which is why she has to have a special wheelchair that supports all of her, including her head. They'll tell you she really can't understand you, or hear you, or keep up with what you're doing. They'll tell you that she can't really see you - she's just looking through you. They'll tell you she's not really aware.
What they don't tell you is what my choir is blessed enough to see when we visit that home.
They don't tell you how her face lights up when she sees people walk in the room - especially young people. They don't tell you that she can snap in time with the music, and that her snaps are coordinated and loud. I've never heard anyone snap louder than my voice teacher, but Ashlie completely outdoes her. The staff won't tell you that when Ashlie gets pushed out of the way by a hurried nurse, she stares after them and cries softly. They won't tell you that she laughs at jokes or that she looks at you directly with those crystal clear blue eyes and grins like a Cheshire cat when she finds you looking back. They won't tell you how she quietly whispers, "Aww..." and smiles gently if you compliment her.
She sings. She snaps. She cries. She loves. She gives you a thumbs up when you say something like, "See you next month," or "God bless you, sweetheart!"
The staff also won't tell you that when she annoys them or starts crying, they'll wheel her into her room and tell anyone that asks if we can have her back that they're liable if they touch her and something happens.
It breaks my heart to see her in a place like that.
And now it's raining again.
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