Tag Archive | sports

The Versatile Blogger Award (<– Whaaaaat)

Holy cow on a cracker, I’ve been nominated for an award 🙂 I figured I might as well do it so my awesome audience can know a little bit more about me! Or they might just, you know, not care. I’m taking a chance on this one! I have to thank the lovely Attempting Reality for nominating me, you guys should check out her blog, it’s funny, quirky and generally amazeballs amazing.

Here are the rules:

– Display the Award Certificate on your blog (with great pleasure)

– Link back to the person who nominated you (HA, I would have done that anyway, she’s awesome)

– Present 15 awards to 15 deserving bloggers (I’ve only been blogging for two weeks, but I’ll try!)

– Leave them a comment to let them know after you have linked them to a post. (on their ‘about’ page?)

– Post 7 interesting things about yourself. (crap. 7 interesting things? that many?)

OK, so 7 interesting things. Suck it up Confused Teen (I would put my name, but I’m conserving anonymity on the big bad Internet), and think. In case you were wondering, yes, I often give myself pep talks. And if you weren’t, well… well… I have no words. Anywho, here goes.

1. I have a weird obsession with cookies and sports. Have you noticed?

2. I was born in the same clinic where the French first lady (at the time, Carla Bruni) had her baby and passed it everyday for years on my way to school. I feel special right? Not.

3. I lived in San Francisco from the age of 2 months to 6 years. Because our (pink) house was in West Portal on a hill where it was always foggy, my mom would bundle me up in sweaters and turtlenecks before school in the morning, only to go down into the valley to find that the sun was blazing and it was sweltering hot. Ironically enough, she didn’t stop doing that when she found out about the weather differences. Now I’m thinking she was out to get me.

4. I have never spent more than 3 years in a school, and I won’t before college. I always held it against my parents that we moved around so much, but now I realize that if we hadn’t, I would have never met all the amazing people that are in my life today *dabs tissue daintily against eye and blows nose like a trumpet*

5. I never eat much when I’m not home, but when I am I eat waaaay to much. I then feel guilty about it, and eat some more. At this point I usually get called out to play baseball or football because my mom has noticed that the chocolate chip cookies are all gone and since she’s convinced that a future of lying on a couch eating chips like Honey Boo Boo’s mom awaits me, she feels responsible to ensure that I move around enough. I appreciate her motives, but as a naturally lazy person, I say ugh.

6. I’m claustrophobic, which is one of the reasons that I love the countryside, convertible cars and Field of Dreams. Although it does kind of piss me off that I can’t go in the tube slides at the water park. I wonder if you feel like you’re processed food going down the intestine when you’re inside.

7. I am a perfectionist. If I don’t position my toothbrush exactly right in its holder, I feel like it’s calling me to come back and arrange it again. On second thought, maybe I’m just crazy.

There, if you had the courage and perseverance to read all of that, you now know 7 things about me. I’ll nominate 15 bloggers, and even if they don’t take up the challenge, I think it’s cool that you can see their links and check them out!

http://thehowlingfantogs.wordpress.com

http://questionableradioactivity.wordpress.com

http://floodedroses.wordpress.com/

http://mydaysasme.wordpress.com/

http://mishal99.wordpress.com/

http://keepitcalmandcarryon.wordpress.com/

http://gammagamification.wordpress.com/

http://acuriousgal.wordpress.com/

http://theworldoffluffiness.wordpress.com/

http://smalltownbear.wordpress.com/

http://longlivethemouse.wordpress.com/

http://rejectreality101.wordpress.com/

http://sarahdiariesblog.wordpress.com/

http://iamtoofree.com/

http://curlysblog.wordpress.com/

I’d also like to point out http://girlwiththesilverlocket.wordpress.com/ and http://collegesportstown.com/ as great blogs to follow.

Live long and prosper \V/

Yours sincerely,

The Mostly Confused Teenager.

PS: I didn’t hyperlink the nominees because I’m too lazy. Just thought I’d clear that up.

*awkward singing* You’ve Got a Friend in Me

My friends are an extremely important part of my life. I haven’t always had them, and I guess that that makes me all the more grateful for the ones I do have. They’re always there for me, whether it’s to listen to me rant, help me with a difficult math problem (UGH) or buy me a pack of cookies and slip it to me in class when I miss lunch. I have the best friends in the Universe, and I love them all to bits.

From 1st to 3rd grade I went to a tiny country school  in Normandy with about 30 kids in total, ranging from 2 year old’s just starting to get weaned off their mothers to 12 year old’s getting ready to graduate to middle school. We were separated into 3 different classrooms and all shared a small recess court with a sandbox in the corner. Being a small number of students, we were all friends. We had our fair share of trivial yelling matches and feuds, but all in all, we were a tight knit community. That was before anyone had Facebook or anything, and the school was shut down by the government soon after I left, so I never found out what happened to a lot of my old friends.

I left in the middle of the year because my teacher suicided. No one knows why, but they found his burning car on the edge of a cliff. The school being so small, it affected a lot of people, and my parents decided that it wouldn’t be a good thing for me to stay. I moved to a larger school in the closest ‘big city’ about 30 minutes away. Although at first the kids there were all over me, they heard my story and left me alone. I spent most of the second half of 3rd grade pretending that I was a horse and galloping around the recess court. On second thought, maybe people didn’t interact with me because I was weird. Who knows?

In 4th grade I met 3 of my best friends and from then to 6th grade, I experienced my first sleepover, the singing and dancing around the living room, the long hours spent discussing important subjects such as why our 30 year old teacher wasn’t married yet (Was something wrong with her? Why did no one want to marry her? Ah, innocent minds. Of course, she did end up getting married and we felt very pleased with ourselves, as if we’d somehow engineered the whole deal). I love those girls with all my might and I’m glad to be able to call them my friends.

Then, at the start of 7th grade, I moved to Paris. What a shocker that was. I did not want to go. But I made new friends there too, and we spent our time walking around outside in circles until people cataloged us as the crazy girls who had a problem with standing still. We would talk on the phone until 11 pm (were my parents ever mad when they saw the bill) about cute boys that we had spotted during the day, or the sore throat that the principle had that made him sound like Darth Vader. I developed a lot with them, both mentally and um… *blushes* physically.

Last year, I had to leave them too to go to my first bilingual school, the EABJM, where I am now. And once again, I’ve met the most awesomesauce people. I love being able to mix English and French in a way that doesn’t work at all, spending math class listening to my friend make boat noises, and trying to get our fingers to go through the table in Physics because our teacher told us that there was an itsy bitsy possibility that that could happen. Hint: don’t waste your time. We spent hours trying, it doesn’t work.

Friends are fun. Friends are loving. Friends tell you your hair looks fine even though you have concrete proof that it looks like a bird got caught in it and wrestled its way out. Friends comfort you when you’re feeling down. Friends are crazy. Friends are like stars, even though sometimes you can’t see them, you know they’re there. You can make fun of your friends and they won’t care (most of the time ^^). Friends don’t care (and are grateful) that you’re not Sheldon Cooper. Friends will never give up on you, despite your weird obsession with cookies and sports. Friends are awesome.

Friends are people who you meet on your blog and feel instantly connected to. In a totally non creepy way. I’ll leave you with a quote from a certain philosophical little kangaroo in Winnie the Pooh: “Friends can be new, Friends can be old; all of them are as precious as Gold.”

Live long and prosper \V/

Yours sincerely,

The Mostly Confused Teenager.

Feminism and Me

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One of the things that I am quite confused about is feminism.

When I was a little girl I was always sort of a tomboy, hair constantly up in a ponytail so that I could pretend it didn’t exist/bother me (silly? yes. Did it work? not really). I hung out with the boys and we played what I considered to be the coolest games ever in the history of game playing: role playing games. And I’m not talking video games here, no we actually pretended to be characters and then acted out scenes. We did everything from Star Wars to Harry Potter. It was freakin’ awesome. I discovered a love of american football and baseball. It wasn’t until the 5th grade, when I had changed schools and befriended a group of girls my age, that I discovered that girls and boys didn’t like the same things. It was devastating to my little heart.

When I asked my mom about why this was, she made some complicated speech that I don’t remember a word of but grasped the principle: boys and girls were not the same. Not in play, not in work, not in life. It was a horrible realization for me that I would never be considered as good as my male counterpart and that I wouldn’t get payed as much (and believe me, as a 5th grader, money was the most important thing about my future). From that day on I was a self proclaimed feminist.

Now does being a feminist mean that I hate boys? Geez no, I love ’em. No shame in that statement. Does it mean that I’m a crazy person who doesn’t wear bras because she believes that men and women should wear the same clothes? No. We’re built differently, that’s all. Does it mean that I believe in equality in between men and women (social, political and financial)? Hell yes. Basically, I’m against gender discrimination and sexism.

And yet as I grow older, I find my view of things evolving. I’ve gotten more girly, let my hair down, put on a dress without feeling weird; even though my interests remain the same (sports, comic books etc). Now I want boys to hold the door for me, compliment me, pay for a movie for me (although that may also be because I tend to be broke most of the time). I want them to ask me out, not the other way around. Yeah, yeah, I’m a chicken. I’m pretty sure that modern culture is to blame. I mean what girl didn’t dream of having her prince charming come and sweep her off her feet? Disney movies, chick flicks, romance novels and songs like Bonnie Tyler’s I need a hero have perverted me. I still desperately want to be a feminist, but am I really?

A good (male) friend of mine once remarked that girls are only feminist when it is to our advantage. And to my sorrow, I can’t agree more.

Live long and prosper \V/

Yours sincerely,

The Mostly Confused Teenager.

Losing, Winning, and Helping

What’s so important to us about sports, and personally, baseball? I’ve never really watched it before, mostly because I live in France and it’s on at 2 am here. I mean, I followed the scores, standings and such but apart from watching the occasional Mets tragedy with my dad, I never set out to sit through a whole 9 innings staring fixedly at a screen, willing Ike Davis’ ERA up a few notches (yeah I know, not so effective). And before I had someone to watch the games with me that late, I never really found the conviction to force my eyes to stay open and down enough comfort food so that that could happen (if my body isn’t exactly bikini ready, I blame baseball).

But starting, well, last year, it suddenly felt really important to actually watch the games live. Let me explain. In September of 2012, my sophomore year of high school, I changed schools so that my parents would be pleased (did I mention; ugh?) While I’d never felt academically challenged before, always top of my class, the EABJM posed new problems that I was utterly unprepared to deal with. See the EABJM is a bilingual school in Paris with an extraordinarily hard curriculum. Going into a place with all these genius kids made me feel, frankly, stupid. The things they deemed easy I struggled on for hours. I slowly sunk into a quiet depression. And so, in my despair, I turned to the thing I knew the best: baseball. It’s funny that a Mets fan would turn to them for comfort right? It’s also funny, no, let me rephrase that; ironically stupid, that a teenage girl in a difficult situation who needed as much sleep as she could get started watching games at 2 am (that is, when she wasn’t pulling all nighters).

But while I was floundering like a distressed child in a sea of future PhD candidates, so were the Mets. It’s a rather simple metaphor: the Mets are, well, me (involuntary shudder) and my classmates are every other team. Except maybe the Cubbies, Astros and Marlins.They just suck (sorry to all the fans out there, I know what it feels like to have my team continually suck, believe me). But what was important to me wasn’t that they were losing, it’s that they were there, unchanging, like I’d always known them to be. After a particularly hard day, which was, to be honest, everyday, I had a game to look forward to. Save off days, but you get my point.

I guess what I’m trying to say is: life is a social experiment. No matter how much you try to convince yourself that you’re the only thing that’s important and that you don’t need any other people, it’s not true. Smiling at someone’s accomplishment, jumping up and down ecstatically because the Mets walked off until your dad tells you to shut up and go to sleep (yeah, my dad values his snoozing time), those are the things that make life worth while for me.

And so, with a foolish grin on my face because we won, I’m going to sleep a happy, idiotic, crazy girl. Because when you get accustomed to losing, whether in sports or in life, a victory is just that much sweeter.

Live long and prosper \V/

Yours sincerely,

The Mostly Confused Teenager.