Don's Dwelling: The Goal-Scoring, Shot-Blocking, Power-Hitting Blog

On the partial contrary to the title, this is a beginning. This is about how I feel before any sports game I play at school or for a team outside of school. So, during soccer season and really throughout the whole year with this first part, I always packed up during 8th and 9th passing period because I didn't want to go back to my locker (in the basement) from science, my only class in the 6th grade hallway. I also did this so I could get to the gym early and be ready for the game quickly. During soccer season, I finished getting dressed before anyone else and I went outside to the field alone. Not to warm up but to begin my pregame ritual. I would walk out to the field and kneel on both knees at center field. I faced northward (toward the Avon building). I prayed. I faced northward because that is the direction to heaven, where my ancestors are and where God is. I would also face east (toward the houses) because Romania, my homeland is 6,000 miles east of here. This is where my an

Ahh, food. I like food, and I like eating. Quite obvious is the fact that I am growing. I consume around 3500-4000 calories a day which surprises me. I'm surprised that I weigh only 124 pounds. I eat constantly, I eat when I'm bored, when I do homework, watch TV. If I'm not eating, I'm always hungry. I have a rather strange taste in food. According to my mother, I live on a caveman diet. I absolutely despise vegetable and pasta and cheese and eggs. I only eat meat (not lamb), carbs, sweets and my only fruits are mango and watermelon. My favorite food from around the world are Mediterranean, Asian (mainly Chinese), and Mexican. My favorite Mediterranean foods are gyros, and shawarma which is a type of chicken with some seasoning on it, and obviously, rice. Whenever I'm at Pita Inn, Naf Naf Grill, or Charcoal Flame, I can't get enough of the gyros and shawarma. The gyros are a perfect concentration of beef with pita bread and the shawarma washes it down as the wh

Here I am. Ahh, Sunday. Easter Sunday. No, it's not Greek Easter, it's Orthodox Easter because not only Greeks celebrate it. Thank you for allowing me to vent on that one (I'm Romanian, Russian and Serbian. (NOT GREEK)) On to the subject of testing, while I'm listening to "Must Be The Ganja" by Eminem. I hate testing. One bright side, no homework? Oh wait, we had homework. No upside. okay, so testing is pointless. It's just to show how good your school is which doesn't really matter to some students, in fact most, me being one of them. I think that it's a waste of a week of school where we could have classes and learn about something not just sit in a testing room for 5 hours a day. I'd prefer to have time to be in a class where I can have help and/or insight on some of my projects. I have been stressing about them the whole week. I don't like being stressed. Also, I hate the online version, my eyes hurt, ahhhhh. Testing also adds to a stud

Hello. If you're new, I welcome you to this ever-changing blog. I've been tasked by the administration (Mrs. Joyner) to write about love stemming from this quote: “We must live, and when this is all over, we must work to make the world a better place. And if we die, we will die knowing that it was not our fault, that we did our best, and we can go to our deaths in dignity… I want you both to live…And to remember...You must choose love. Always choose love.”   (from Daniel’s Story by Carol Matas, page 70) I am neutral about this claim but I shall lean against it today and write about how worthless love is. Here goes. So, we all love our families. That's human nature. Nothing wrong with that but when you reach the age of around 13-14-15 years, you'll want a bit more than that. I have experienced this first hand. Today is 1 March. So, about three-ish weeks ago, many many things happened. I finished my basketball game against Lincoln Hall and we lost in overtime. I wa

19 February 2018 Dear Diary,          Today, I skied on sheet ice. That normal East coast quality. Not there. You see, the East doesn't have consistent temperatures ever. In the summer, one day it can be 100 and the next maybe 60. In the West or more specifically the Rockies it's always 65-80 in the summer with a few days where it's higher or lower. In the Western winter, it's 15-30 degrees and in the East, it can be -10 one day and 45 the next The difference? The East gets rain in the winter. When it rains there's water on the mountain. (Duh.) Then, the next day it's below freezing. What happens? It all freezes and gives the mountain a layer of ice and the skiers a hard time. I felt like my legs were being swept away by the ice. It was insane. Yet, I still managed to hit 46 mph on this stuff. Sadly, I can't hit 50 in the East but I can hit 75 in the West on softer SNOW not ice with a dusting of WET snow over it. I wish our whole continent was nestled

906 miles. 13 and a half hours. Sitting on a light grey leather seat in our blue Acura. I long to read French forever in Quebec and I wish it never ended at Ontario. Ontario lasted for what seemed like years. Highway 401 was beyond boring. Reading signs saying not to speed or get demerited points and the English and French signs dwindled to few and far between. Toronto rolled around with just a small sight of the skyline. Traffic hit. 10 mph for 15 minutes. 2.5 miles only in those 15 minutes. Flat land only around here. No homes, business, even gas stations. Few billboard here and there. Depressed I was left seeing that we'd only made it to exit 475. 475 km to the border. Excruciating. Still I sat, reading Daniel's Story for class tomorrow. "Bridge to U.S.A." finally. Under, "50 km." How depressing. Detroit rolls around and Michigan. Ahh, Michigan. Fat yet skinny. It looks so short East-West but it isn't. It's enormous. 2.5 hours across Michigan plus