It's that Time of Year (and I don't mean Christmas)

For my youth group, the highlight of the year is Youth Conference. Undeniably. Some of my best youth group memories are from youth conference. 

This year, I'm going as a chaperone. Gah! Okay, semi-chaperone. Basically, I've been promoted from happy, carefree teen to teen with responsibilities and younger roommates. I was told I could go as a teen or a chaperone, whichever I wanted, and I chose chaperone because I'd like to help out with the event instead of just participate.

As always, I can't believe we'll be leaving this Sunday! Something that's contributed to the surreality (yeah, that's a word) is probably the fact that just yesterday we had our annual fundraiser dinner. Normally that happens in June. Before fireworks tent.

Tuesday, Mom took us girls out to try to get some last minute sales from the car dealerships. They've bought in the past, but this year only yielded sales from one place. Probably because it was such short notice. Ah, well.

Yesterday, I was up by 7 (well, that's when I set my alarm, anyway) so I would be good and ready to go by 8:15. We ran out to collect the tally for sales and then headed to the church. The health inspector was coming by, so we kids hid on the opposite end of the church for a while. When the inspector finally left, we jumped right into preparing a huge order. (Lunch is mostly big orders to be delivered to companies, and supper is walk-ins, usually church people.)

I was on the brisket side of the table, as I have been every year but last. Throughout the day, people shifted around so all the girls worked brisket and the guys had chicken.

The day was busy, but not really the sort of activity I can say much about (at least, not much that's interesting and not rambling.) I served up brisket and yelled for more brisket and dished up baked beans and tried to ignore my aching feet and salivated over brisket we weren't allowed to eat in case we ran low. (You'd think working over food all day would mean you weren't hungry for it, but this time every year I really crave BBQ brisket. Go figure.) My hands were sweaty from wearing gloves and my hat kept falling low over my eyes and I was thirsty. However, now that I've slept, I can say I enjoyed the whole ordeal. After all, the proceeds go to Youth Conference, bringing the cost for each kid down. Yay!

Dad and Mom teach a class on Wednesday night with which Heather had been helping, but last week we traded places. Since we're so close to everyone moving into their new grades, we don't really have a lesson we're working on, so I got to sit at the back with Mom and pretend I was awake.

When we got home, I had every intention of going to bed, but that didn't happen until 10:30 or later. Instead, I watched some TV with Dad while we waited for news from Mom, who was at the hospital with a friend who was 42 weeks pregnant and going for a C-section. After that good news arrived and made it a very full day, I went to sleep.

But little of this has very much to do with Youth Conference. On that subject:

Mom took us girls shopping...last week? And since then I've been mentally packing, making lists, looking over the extensive and detailed schedule one of our amazing and very organized youth workers compiled, panicking over my lack of practice on a song I'll be singing with Heather and another girl, and trying to proceed with normal life. Funny how we all build up to this one week, spend months preparing for and thinking about it, and then it's gone in a flash.

There's something philosophical in that, but I can't dig it out right now.

Unless I get abnormally productive in the next few days concerning this blog, the next you'll hear from me will   be after Youth Conference. And probably a little while after that, because I'll no doubt need to process everything and try to sort out the blur. Man, I love this time of year.

Strange dreams, hair curlers, and pet rivalry

I was going to do a post on pictures, because I haven't posted very many pictures yet, there's a recent one of Sasha that I managed to snap in a rare moment where she's not moving, and the pictures have been accumulating on my phone and I need to take care of them. But either Blogger or our internet (or both) doesn't want that to happen, because the pictures simply won't be uploaded, no matter how long I wait for it. So that's for another time, I guess.

I do have some stories to tell!

I have this thing similar to recurring nightmares, but it's not actually the same one over and over. It's not even a series. (Yes, some of my dreams have sequels.) It's more of just a strange theme running through them. I don't know when I had the first one. Years ago, I guess. But I had another yesterday night. In the middle of the dream I was thinking to myself, "Oh, no. Not another one of these."

The dreams? My wedding.

This last one must have been number 7 or 8, though I'm bad at remembering most dreams so I'm not sure. Every one is different. Different people are in it, a different location.... There's only one thing that's consistent: I never see the groom's face. In one of the first ones, he even looked directly at me. There was nothing there.

It drives Mom crazy, though I'm not really sure why. She wants to put out a notice on facebook along the lines of: "Will the man stalking my daughter's dreams please show yourself?" Yeah, that'll go well.

The crazy dude always has his back to me and pretty much never speaks. Well, I only assume it's the same guy in each. What I have seen of him is pretty average.

Hang on. The pup is attacking my hands as I type. I should probably take her out.

That took longer than I thought. Where was I...?

Oh, yeah. Mysterious, faceless dream stalker.

As far as looks go, what I can see of him is pretty average. Average height (by my standards, not my brother's), average hair. I think once someone said his name, but I don't know what it was.

So that's what haunts my dreams. After the fifth one, it started to get old. This last one was super boring.

The Sr. High Christmas party is tonight, and, for the first time (to my knowledge) it's formal. Mom took Heather and I shopping yesterday for shoes and some accessories. At Payless, we were served by a girl who seemed either seriously starved for human interaction or just overly friendly. Either way, she came by after I had found some shoes (only $11, though they seriously up my chances of killing myself) and was browsing around while Heather hunted for her own pair. I kept pulling out the gaudiest shoes I could find and showing them to Mom, and Ms. Friendly asked if I was getting married!

Yeah, I'm actually still talking about my dreams/nightmares, not shoes, because the irony is so funny.

My first reaction was to blush. Second was a slow, quiet, "Um, no."

She went on to ask what the occasion was ("Prom?") and then decided to ask how old I was. When I told her, she kind of smiled and said, "Oh. The way you carried yourself, I thought you were, like, 21."

Is this a good thing or bad thing?

If nothing else, our interactions with her provided some humor.

Okay, onto something else besides my crazy dreams.

Yesterday Mom took us to get our Level 1 licenses. We left around 9, which had Heather up at 8. (Yeah, Mom called her to get her up and asked, "Are you up?" Heather said, "Um, no." She told me she was staring at the dark window and wondering why on earth she'd be up so early.)

We wished for two miraculous things as we headed to the Secretary of State office: a short line and a nice person to wait on us. Neither has happened any other time Mom's been in there. The service could make bridge trolls look friendly and helpful, from what I've heard.

But miracles do happen! When we arrived, there were only two people in front of us, and the person who helped us was apparently the manager and wasn't so sunshine deprived as her colleagues have all appeared to be (in regards to their temperaments, not complexions). She was friendly, she was patient, and she didn't give us any problems. (And she was wearing a very cute jacket.)

When Mom went to do the same thing with Wes, they gave her trouble over the documents she brought to prove residency, legal presence, etc. We have friends who brought in six or seven things just to make sure they weren't missing anything, and the people got mad at them for bringing too much, while they said the four items Mom brought to cover the four required areas weren't enough. (Fickle, much?) But not this lady. Mom brought two or three extra things for each of us and she didn't ask to see any of it.

After we filled out our forms and she got our names straight, she had us take the short vision test. Heather did fine, even though she's been saying she needs glasses. I, who have glasses, didn't do so well. Evidently my left eye is much worse than I had believed. They split the thing into three sections: left, middle, and right. I could barely tell the left section existed, but the right was clear.

Little things like this make me blush, and, of course, I did. But no worries. I survived.

After that adventure, we went for a little drive to see the snow. Thanks to routes, that didn't last long. Then, because we were nearby, we grabbed papers, and I ended up sitting through the whole route because it was easier than Mom dropping me at home. Cold is the only word there. The heat didn't kick in until near the end of routes. Again.

Then we did a little shopping and headed home.

Mom decided I needed a curly up-do for the party, and she is determined to make my hair curl. (It might just be me, but it doesn't hold a curling-iron curl if I use a whole bottle of hairspray and sit like a statue in an air-tight room all day. [Not that I've tried.])

So I took a shower, towel-dried my hair, and silently submitted myself to Mom's hands. (She can get borderline-violent when it comes to doing hair.) She loaded it with this weird smelling gunk and then loaded the top part with curlers, twisting the bottom in small strands and holding it all together with bobby pins because we ran out of curlers. Then I had to sleep with it like that.

And do papers routes with it like that, because Heather is at a friend's.

We had to get gas first, and I knew Mom wouldn't let me pump after the fiasco on Thursday (I'd rather not talk about it), but I assumed I'd go in to pay. Turns out even Mom isn't (usually) so cruel as to subject me to that torture to my pride, so she paid. Then to the paper office. No one in sight!

Actually, I almost made it through the entire routes without anyone seeing me (to my knowledge). Until we were three minutes from being done. We pulled up to one of the apartment buildings. There was a guy standing outside smoking.

"Do I have to do it?" I groaned, sinking down in my seat.

Mom insisted. I tried covering my head with my hood. No good. The hat Mom had brought? It wouldn't fit.

"He's probably already seen you. Just go."

So I went. I walked quickly up the sidewalk. He glanced at me, muttered a good morning, which I responded to, and turned away to pace up and down the grass. I rushed inside. Down stairs, trip on top step, drop paper, up stairs, smack self in face with paper, drop paper, mumble to self, back outside. The guy wouldn't look at me, and I hurried back to the car.

When we got home, I took Sasha out and then went to bed, drifting in and out of sleep for three hours before I decided I should probably get up. Sasha was two hours overdue for breakfast, and she wanted out.

I've been avoiding mirrors, windows, and puddles because every glimpse of my reflection I've had makes me cringe. Ah, the things we do to look nice. Now my neck and shoulder hurt because I couldn't curl up on my pillow, but the curlers are still intact. And they must remain so all day.

My hair better curl well, and it better stay that way until I take a shower tonight.

What else to say? Um, on Thursday one of the girls at co-op came up to me and remarked that I was wearing a NaNoWriMo hoodie. I excitedly asked if she knew what it was. When she said she did, that's she'd done it, I bounced and nearly squealed. She probably regretted saying anything at all, but it makes me really happy that someone else knows. I'm still waiting for the day a random stranger at the store will say, "You do NaNo? So do I!" But I don't see that happening any time soon. I keep trying.

I made a remark the other day while Sasha was in terror mode that I should have chose the fat, sleeping puppy. Let's be honest: she was in the middle of a nap, and when she did wake up it was because two of her sisters were sitting on top of her biting her tail and face. She didn't even have a chance to come when I stuck my hand in and called because she couldn't move.

And then Sasha calmed down and took a nap and I decided I could live with her. But I do have to wonder what would have happened if I had chosen any of the others. They didn't have very defined personalities at that point, but they were each different in subtle ways. What if I had chosen the sweet one Allenna picked up, or the cute one Heather grabbed, or the biggest, laziest one who didn't even look up?

Who knows?

Who cares?

Sasha's about 13 weeks now, and she is getting better. Now most of her accidents occur because I know she needs to go (she's only been barking in my face and pacing around for five minutes) and I ignore her for too long, or she's been in the crate for an hour too long and just gets too excited when I walk in. She's still not getting very far in training, but what puppy really learns much outside of the very basic commands before they're a year old? Hershey still doesn't obey unless he feels like it.

Yeah, it's not really the best idea to compare them. Not to be mean (though it'll come out that way) but Hershey is kind of...dense? He was crazy as a puppy, but now he's a laid-back, totally mellow, lazy dog who isn't too fond of copious amounts of fresh air and chasing a ball. Sasha could spend all day outside if the weather is good and is always demanding to be played with, and she picks up on things much faster than Hershey ever did. Granted, she's still a puppy, but they really aren't comparable.

Also, our household does not support pet equality, which really frustrates Sasha and makes Hershey smug. Hershey is allowed on the furniture and Sasha isn't. Hershey gets human food and Sasha doesn't (though she still thinks any and all food is hers by rights to take as she pleases). Before Hershey got angry and destroyed them, there were some toys that only Sasha could play with, but his heart was not off limits to her. (Oh, the things we could do with that rubber heart of his. Another time.) Hershey sleeps in the girls' room on a bed, and Sasha sleeps alone in her crate. Sasha has to eat at a specific time, but Hershey is free to eat whenever he is inclined to. (Don't worry, he doesn't over eat in any way. He just doesn't like eating if he's all alone. Especially lately, someone has to stand within sight of him before he touches his food.)

Okay, enough about the pets. (All three of which, by the way, are napping in the living room as I type this.) Actually, I can't think of anything else to write at the moment. And any way, I think this post is long enough now.

So a little cleaning, a little writing, and then probably two hours of preparing before the part tonight. I should be back tomorrow to write a little about that, and maybe I'll even manage to post a picture or two.

Puppy Woes

Guess I should post one more time before the month is over.

I can't believe this is the last day of October! Weird.

'Tis been a busy week. (I'm not sure if that's even grammatically accurate, but I love "'tis', so there.) Sasha is a ball of energy galumphing through life with teeth barred and puppy eyes sparkling. She may be the bringer of sanity's departure around here. But I love her. (Now that I've recovered from buyer's remorse or whatever it was possessed me the first couple of days.) Especially in the morning, she's all energy. She'll bounce around obnoxiously for a couple hours (literally, she pounces and bounds all around the floor), crash in the middle of the floor and army crawl into a comfortable position to snooze, and start over with tormenting everyone and everything in sight. Especially Hershey. She's a brute to him.

We still have to find a kennel for her, and then a carpet shampooer for us. The whole only-go-potty-outside concept hasn't quite clicked yet.

Speaking of clicking, I bought a bag full of tasty puppy treats and a clicker with which to train her. We started this morning with sit. Another concept that hasn't quite computed is click = treat. She noticed the treats, realized I wanted her to sit, and started sitting pretty all over the floor and looking curiously at me out of the corner of her eye, totally disregarding the clicker. Yeah, this may take some work. She's quite intelligent, but her ADHD and the darker side of her personality take over a lot.

I really need to get a decent picture of the fluff ball to put on here.

Any way. My week.

Well, on Thursday we had to bring Sasha to co-op because leaving her alone with Hershey for 6 hours was not going to work. (He's still perpetually irritated at her. It's like how the cat treats him.) So I hid out in a back classroom no one was using, occasionally pulling in pals to ooh and ahh over the puppy, who was doing a remarkable job of looking perfectly innocent and sweet. Such a little actress. Mrs. Johnson was away with her youngest at a wedding, so I got to teach class. Thankfully the experiments were comprised mostly of water, though I had to comb my hair to get the comb electrically charged and felt rather like Rapunzel, only there wasn't just a cute chameleon watching me. While I was buy with science, Heather took charge of the puppy in her class of four.

When Mom came to get me to do routes, we brought Sasha home and headed out. When we returned around 2.5 hours later, both dogs were still breathing.

Friday through yesterday we girls joined most of the rest of the youth group at a camp a few hours NNW of here. 'Twas cold and gray most of the time, but in weather only. The youth retreat event itself was an adventure (a tiring one). Our youth pastor's wife deserves free hugs for a year and a bucketload of chocolate for the cabin in which she put me. It stayed clean and mostly quiet and we were drama-free. Lovely.

On the ride home, everyone in my van slept (except the driver, of course, though she was close).

We got back just before morning church let out. When everyone in the family was gathered, we had to drop off a paper Mom had forgotten about on routes that morning, then went to PetSmart for my puppy training tools, then McDonald's. As it was the 5th Sunday of the month, we had an afternoon service starting at 3, so didn't really have time to nap.

By the end of the day yesterday, it didn't feel like Sunday. We were home by 5 and watched a few movies and had a lazy evening.

This week I'm doing something new: Driver's Ed. Yeah, I'm freaked. It starts today. 13 days, Monday-Wednesday, or something like that.

So this is a really short post, I know, but it's taken me a good hour or more to get it finished because I'm busy keeping Sasha away from Hershey's new bone. I'll try to come back with something more worthwhile to write about next time.

I was doing so well for a while there.

I'm not even going to try to make an excuse for my negligence. Granted, the past couple of weeks were eventful, but I still had plenty of time most days to blog.

And it seems my computer doesn't want me to blog. Right as I started writing, it shut off on me.

Anyway. I'll stop making excuses and waiting to forget about blogging and finally do it.

Okay, October the 3rd.... Wow. A lot has happened since then. Okay, speed recap! (Ha!)

That was the start of the Revival Meetings at church. Well, I guess Sunday was. Sunday through Wednesday. That's my first excuse, though they didn't start until 7. At 5:30 Monday-Wednesday a bunch of us kids headed out to sell coupon books. We made some good progress, though I think we'll need to start looking for a new method of fundraising. Three or four other groups are selling coupons, too, and they get started a couple weeks before we do every year.

Because of Revival, we didn't have Bible study or Institute.

Thursday, of course, was co-op. Nothing special there. Well, at least, not out of the ordinary, but the whole experience can be very awesome. Mrs. Johnson needs an award for coolest science teacher. I rarely dreaded coming to chemistry, as much as I hated it, because she's great at making the whole thing fun and as easy as possible.

Friday and Saturday I was up early to go to work with Dad. Heather came with me on Saturday. We mostly worked in the back room, unpacking product and sorting and storing it in preparation for the remodel.

On Sunday afternoon, a couple of us Sr. High girls spent the day with one of the awesome ladies who works in the youth group. We made cookies and soup and listened to a 2-hour recording of the testimony of Darlene Diebler, a missionary who'd been in prison camps during WWII. Wow! What a powerful testimony. I think it also had something to do with one of the girls deciding at church that night that she wanted to be a missionary, which makes it doubly awesome and exciting.

I'm going to pause in my recap to say this: I truly do have an amazing youth group. Yes, we're all human. Yes, we most certainly make some terrible mistakes and we are very capable of doing stupid things (as I realized yet again this week). But I don't know where I'd be, or who I'd be, without the awesome people God's put in my life through this. I don't thank Him nearly enough for it.

So last Monday was normal. Just coupon books and Bible study. Tuesday was also normal, with Institute. On Wednesday and Thursday, we did the remodel at Dad's store: myself and Heather, Vanna and Mrs. Wright, and Abby S. and her mom were all there. That was exciting! I spent a good deal of my time organizing books in the Christian living, charismatic, parenting, and marriage sections. Oh, what fun! Seriously, trying to alphabetize that many books makes my brain ache, and it shut down half-way through so I couldn't remember where anything belonged. Not fun.

Also we'd called of co-op for the week because so many of us were not going to make it.

We didn't do a whole lot on Friday, except Vanna came over to spend the night so she could come to the church with us on Saturday to help prepare for the Chili Cook-off.

We arrived at the church around noon on Saturday. There were 7 of us in the group, though for a while only four of us were there working. Our theme was Italian, as we were doing pizza soup (it's become very popular in the youth group). Saturday was tiring in many ways, some of them not really related to the cook-off, though I really don't want to go into that. I did have a pretty decent headache by the end of the night, though thankfully it wasn't nearly as crowded as in past years. Must be because we did it two weeks earlier than normal and it came up kind of suddenly.

So a few of us wore (or drew on, in the case of one) mustaches, some had aprons, some had hats, and one was a mime. We had bread and soup with bacon bits, cheese, and olives as sides and decorated with a giant sign framed by curtains (shower curtains, no less), a checkered table cloth, candles, and peppers. It was fun, though I didn't really get around much and only had chili from one table.

Bro. Mark's brother and niece were the judges. That was fun. They judge chili, soup, and presentation. When Pastor stood on a chair to announce the winners, he did 3rd for chili, soup, and table, then 2nd for all, then 1st. When we weren't called each time, we got more and more nervous. He got to 1st place soup and called our table. Abby S., Heather, and Tonya marched up to get the prize (a gift card), and Pastor said, "How could you not give it to them? Look at them!" Then he told the girls to stay up there because we also won for presentation!

Yeah, I jumped up and cheered like an idiot.

$50 isn't really much between 7 people, but it was a nice way to end an exciting day.

On Saturday I also decided it was time to take a break from facebook. I have numerous reasons for doing this, one of them being messed up priorities. And, sad as it is, it's hard to do. But in 2 days I've already seen how helpful it'll be for me.

Sunday. Wow. I think I should write a book with all of the adventures I have early in the morning. Mom had 80 papers added to her routes this past week. (Being former walking routes, they're all condensed, so it only adds 20 minutes tops.) Sunday was the first time I'd done them, because I was working at Dad's store on Thursday.

So we're about halfway through routes, working on the new route. Everything's going fine for me never having done the route. Then we notice a fire on the side of the road. One of the leaf piles that had been raked (too far) into the road was on fire. Happening to glance back at where we'd just been, Mom saw a larger fire in at the end of the court we'd just done.

We got to call 911 and report it. Oh, yay.

While we're waiting for help to arrive (they told Mom she could go but she wanted to make sure it was taken care of) Mom started wondering how it could have happened, and then she wondered if we could have started the fires on accident. She didn't dare ask the policeman when he arrived if this was even possible. (Yeah, the policeman came a good five minutes before the fire truck cruised in. He got an extinguisher from his trunk and doused the larger fire. The first one had dimmed to smoldering ashes.)

We left to finish routes. When we were done, Mom quickly drove through the new route and a few other streets to see if there were any other fires, me all the time trying to assure her that I honestly didn't think it was our fault.

Mom later learned that she wasn't the only paper carrier to see fires that morning. Apparently somebody had been going through and lighting leaves on fire. Nice.

That brings us up to yesterday. It was a quiet day for me, because I wasn't feeling good. I ended up napping, and then opted out of coupon sales and Bible study. Not much to be said about yesterday.

I'm thinking a (not so short) recap is all I'll write today. Now that it's taken me almost an hour just to write this, I think it's enough for one day. That, and I really don't have anything else to day. I know I had thought of something to write yesterday, but I didn't even make a note of it and now I can't remember what it was. Oh, well.

Runaway Dogs and Badminton

When it comes to our dog Hershey, there are times I'm convinced that he's determined to be rebellious and simply not learn what we try to teach him.

In the four (five?) years we've had him, we've taught him sit, shake, beg, lay down, roll over, play dead (sort of), crawl, and how to identify certain words. But two things we cannot teach him: how to come when he's called, no matter what he's doing, and how to sit quietly when someone comes to the door.

Today, FedEx came by with a package for which I needed to sign (Mom and Dad being gone). I'd been sitting on my bed in my PJ's, listening to music and happily typing away at my story, when I saw the truck pull up. I dressed in record time, pulling clothes out of the pile on the floor, and darted downstairs. Hershey was whining at the door and the Fed Ex lady was getting ready to leave with the package because I hadn't come quickly enough. Heather poked her head out her bedroom saying she couldn't answer it because it's school hours. I waved away the comment and told her to get the dog. She didn't.

I opened the door and immediately felt stupid because Hershey bolted straight for the FedEx truck, expecting a ride. (He loves car rides.) I was torn between chasing him and attending to the FedEx lady. Allenna appeared in her bright red silk pajamas and took off after the dog, and I signed my name terribly on that little plastic screen. ("Is that R-a or R-o?")

So much for keeping my cool. Allenna dragged Hershey back (thankfully he was too fixated on that car ride that he didn't run off), I told the lady to have a nice day, informed the dog that I currently hate him, and went back upstairs.

They say "Don't sweat the small stuff", but something I hate is looking like an idiot in front of strangers. It's pointless, because I'm sure they probably don't care and will soon forget the weird girl in a neon orange shirt and royal blue striped pants trying to chase a dog and sign for a package at the same time and then breathlessly saying, "Have a nice day", but I still get embarrassed about it.

Ah, well. I'll get over it.

We had an eventful day yesterday. (Whenever I say "eventful day", it usually just means I spent most of it away from the house, FYI.) I've been feeling a bit icky lately, with a sore, scratchy throat and some headaches that are in part because of the head cold thing going around and probably also in part because of allergies and my inability to regularly take medicine. So after 3 hours of being awake for routes and two hours of sleep between that and having to get ready for church, I was feeling rather crummy. Church was pretty normal, which is always good. Then we girls spent the afternoon at our youth pastor's. Heather and I had been commissioned to make the meal for the Sr. High afterglow yesterday night: pizza soup. (It's not as bad as it sounds. Just tomato soup, some spaghetti sauce, pepperoni, and cheese with bread for dipping.)

We walked in like it was home, which is how all of the teens have been taught to treat the youth pastor's house. It's kind of nice. All of the lights in the entry way and upstairs were on and I could hear a TV ringing in one of the boys' rooms, but we didn't see anyone. I called out, "Hello? Anybody home?" and we thought we heard Ms. Amy answer from her room, but we didn't hear anything else and assumed she'd come out in a minute.

I went outside to greet their horse of a dog named Riley (a fat, simply adorable yellow lab who likes to jump), and then we stood around awkwardly for a few minutes wondering what to do. Then we heard a really weak voice calling out and realized Ms. Amy was waiting for us to come to hear.

No one had told us she was sick with a sinus infection. We found her curled up on her bed with her computer, the curtains pulled and the lights off, barely able to speak. She gave us our instructions: help yourself to the food and feel free to hang out.

Apparently the supplies for supper had yet to be acquired, and Ms. Amy had to get somebody to take us shopping. So we found some munchies and headed outside to play a little badminton (which took me all day to get even partway decent at playing). Then we went shopping, made the soup with only a few small difficulties, and hung out until church.

After church, we headed back to Bro. Mark's for afterglow. There were only about 10 people there, and we had planned on more than twice that many when we bought the food. But it was fun. While the Jr. Highers have organized playtime, we Sr. Highers catch up on our social lives, which usually means crashing in the living room and chatting for the entire event. Sometimes we may toss a ball around while we do this, or maybe pull out some coloring books (seriously), and on occasion a few of us will do something active (like play badminton, which is difficult to do in the dark). That's pretty much how all Sr. High activities go. I like it.

Now it's Monday again. I have a list of things to accomplish, so I should probably get to that.