A Series of Unfortunate Events

Last Wednesday was Park City High School Swimming's annual Battle of the Sexes.

This is a swim meet where instead of teams competing against each other, it girls against boys, and it's really a lot of fun.

Though the meet was a lot of fun, there were a series of events that occurred that were quite unfortunate for me, but hilariously entertaining for others.

Though we may look calm and happy,
we were all most definitely still thinking about
that relay that went wrong.

It all started with the first relay.

We were doing mixed relays, which means two boys and two girls on each relay, and the relay I was in was the medley, which means that each person swims a different stroke (4 strokes, 4 people in a relay, it makes sense).  Anyway, the order for a medley relay is backstroke, then breaststroke, then butterfly, then freestyle.  I was scheduled to be doing breaststroke, meaning I should of gone second.

And in a perfect world I would have.  But I didn't.  The person doing butterfly stepped up on the blocks before anyone could tell him that he was swimming in the wrong order, and started doing butterfly when I was supposed to be doing breaststroke.

The other two members of the relay and I were standing on the deck, watching him do butterfly while every other lane was doing breaststroke.  We were kind of worried, I mean we were absolutely going to get the relay disqualified, but mostly we were just laughing.  Actually, we were completely cracking up.

We swam the rest of our relay, and went and apologized to our coach.  She was being pretty passive aggressive about it, so we could't tell if she was mad or not, but she quickly forgot about.  It was after all supposed to be a fun, no-stress meet and she really couldn't get angry because we are just humans and humans make mistakes.

After that whole debacle, my first event was the 100 butterfly.  In a typical high school, there's a fifteen minute right after the 50 freestyles, and right before the 100 butterfly.  The thing is, is that at this meet there wasn't a break.

So there I was, standing behind lane eight (I was swimming my 100 fly in lane 1), cheering for someone in the last heat of 50 free, thinking I had fifteen before I swam.

That's when I heard the whistle and saw the other people in my 100 fly standing behind the blocks.  Then it dawned on me — there wasn't going to be a break.  So I took off running to get to my block.

And that's when it happened.  That's when my foot slipped  and I completely fell onto the deck.  I landed smack dab on my left hip in front of everyone.

But I didn't have time to recover from hitting the deck.  I had to swim my 100 fly.  I guess my adrenalin must of still been running because I hopped right back, ignoring all the people asking if I was ok, and ran to lane one.  

I made it there before the event started, but my cap and googles weren't on.  I frantically pulled them over my head while looking at the starter (who controls when the events are swam).  He gave me a sympathetic look and announced that they would wait for me.  I breathed out a sigh of relief and finished putting my cap and goggles on.

The event, surprisingly, went ok, though I was still shaking my fall when I got out of the water.

I walked over to the coach, laughing, because I couldn't believe what my night had become.  I told what had happened, and she too laughed at me.

The rest of the evening was fairly uneventful.  I went and talked to my mom, and upon seeing my hip completely black and blue and bleeding, she made me go get an ice pack.

I swam the 100 breaststroke, and I added a significant amount of time because I could only swim with one leg.  Usually, a person would get disqualified from an event using only one leg, but the officials must of not been paying attention or they just gave me the benefit of the doubt.  

My hip remained swollen for days after the incident, and I still have scratches from where it was bleeding, but it's all in the past now, and I can laugh about it.

So there you have it — when everything goes wrong, you just have to laugh about it, because I assure you, everyone else is already laughing.

Up and out,
Elise :)

Gobble, Gobble

So this past Thursday was Thanksgiving and let me tell you I ate much more than I should have.  But that's ok, because Thanksgiving is America's excuse for total obesity so no one could judge me.

I love Thanksgiving — it's my favorite holiday.  I mean what's not to love about a holiday that revolves completely around food?

Courtesy of: Memes Vault

This Thanksgiving though, things were a little different.

My family usually cooks our own dinner, (and as you know from my last post about the chicken gone wrong then you can assume how well that works out for us), but this year we let my grandparents do the cooking, and we went to their house.

I wasn't all that excited to go to their house, because I had to put pants on, and we always seem to leave their house hungry because they're portion sizes are not the same as ours, but never the less it was Thanksgiving and I was ready to feast.

Dinner was ready and I was helping set the table when I got the worst news of my life.

Sue, my step-grandma (name has been changed to maintain some anonymity) said to me, "We don't have any stuffing because I'm trying to stay off the heavy carbs."

I smiled and nodded of course because I couldn't just burst into tears, but I was way upset.  I mean, stuffing rocks and we weren't going to have it.

I understand Sue wanting to be healthy, but it was Thanksgiving!  It is the day where all health is thrown out the door and your soul focus is on butter.  But alas, Sue wanted to keep the healthy going and stuffing was not a part of my Thanksgiving dinner.

I got over it once I was elbow deep in gravy, and Thanksgiving ended up being great times.  I had four pieces of pie (which I do not recommend), and the rest of the food was awesome.

I ended up lying on the couch groaning in pain from eating so much, and I couldn't have asked for a better Thanksgiving.

So in honor of our favorite holiday, here is an article about how it went for our favorite family.

So enjoy this disturbing Thanksgiving meme, 

Courtesy of: Wide Open Spaces

and have a happy rest of the holiday season.

Eat some stuffing in my honor and work on burning off that butterball.
Elise :)

Potato Tornado

I'm currently sitting in the business center of a hotel in Boise, Idaho writing this blog post because I didn't think I needed to bring my laptop because I didn't think I had any homework to do.

Funny, because I do have homework to do.

The reason I'm in Idaho is because I have swim meet, but that's not what this blog post is about.  No, this is my potato appreciation post.  So...

WHHHHHOOOOO POTATOES!!!!!!!!!

I figured since i'm in the land of potatoes, it would be the perfect time for me to write about my favorite food, which is the potato.

I think I like potatoes so much because the potato is such a versatile vegtable.  I mean, there's fries, mashed potatoes, chips, potato salad-the list goes on and on.  And no matter what you're making with potatoes, you know it's going to be good because potatoes are good.

Potatoes are also, in my opinion, an inspiring food.  I mean, on the outside they're not much to look at, but when you cut them up and look past their brown, bumpy, exterior, you get this lovely white vegtable that tastes great with butter.

In that respect, people are a lot like potatoes.  We can't really see what people are like until we cut through the outside layer.

The potato industry has also provided a postive boost to America's economy.  The average potato picker get's payed $28,490 annually, and there are over 26,000 potatoes pickers employed across the country.  So if the taste of potatoes isn't enough to make you want to eat them, do it for the homeland. (Statistics from mymajor.com)

Potatoes are great also because tehy have been the subject matter of many memes.  I don't want to list them all, because frankly no one cares, but I will sign off this blog post with one of my favorites.

So remember kids, haters gonna hate, and...

Well bye.
Elise :)

The Chicken Disaster

This past Sunday, my mom decided to make a chicken.

You know, a whole chicken slow roasted in the oven with potatoes and carrots and stuff.

I was really excited for said chicken, I mean, gotta love poultry, and also because the only time we ever eat large birds is at Thanksgiving, and sometimes not even then, so I was pumped to nosh on some bird.

Well, the thing is our oven isn't the best.  I don't know if it's old or what, but it's absolute trash and can't cook anything right.

She put the chicken in the oven at 6:00, and anticipated it to be done in a couple hours.

So there we were, my mom, my dad, and I, sitting in the kitchen taking the chicken out of the oven at 9:30 on Sunday night.  I usually go to bed way earlier than this, but I stayed up waiting for that darn chicken to cook.

We pulled out and from the outside, it looked perfectly fine.  It appeared to be fully cooked and we were happy that something finally cooked right in our oven.

Funny thing is that the chicken was far from cooked.  We cut into it and the inside was practically raw.

It was bad.  I got really salty, my mom lost hope, and my dad started cutting it up and microwaving it piece by piece (which we have done with Thanksgiving turkeys in the past).

I was really upset because I just wanted to stuff my face with chicken and go to bed, but I couldn't do that if the chicken wasn't cooked.

It's kind of like the morning of Thanksgiving when you're all like:

Courtesy of: Pinterest

And then dinner time comes around and half the food isn't cooked and the rolls are burnt and you're just like: 

Courtesy of: QuickMeme

Anyway, it was disappointing and I was sad so I ate some leftover spaghetti noodles with Costco pesto and went to bed.

I don't really remembered all the things that happened that night, but I'm pretty sure we ended up leaving the oven on all night while we were sleeping, because the next day hat chicken was cooked.  I mean if that chicken wasn't dead before, spending eighteen hours in the oven should make it way dead.

When we ate though (on Monday night), it was good and fully-cooked and I really enjoyed it.

And no worries — we're going to my grandparents house for Thanksgiving so there won't be two uncooked poultry incidents within the same month.

So thanks for reading and give your turkey-cooking moms/dads/legal guardians a big hug for cooking those turkeys, because as we've learned, it's not so easily accomplished.

Bye for now.
Elise :)

Polise

There's this thing in the world today called gender inequality.  Gender inequality meaning that the genders are not considered equal.

This is a problem for many reasons.

The first being that there is no reason for it.  The only thing that determines your gender is how your chromosomes are combined in the womb, so that shouldn't have any affect on how your treated in society.  The genders should be treat equally, because we are indeed equal.

Any female should be able to do what any male can do.  There shouldn't be certain things that only boys can do simply because they are boys.

This belief, the belief that the genders are considered equal is called feminism.

This came up in a conversation between my pal Abbi and I once.

We were talking about unfair social standards, and I jokingly said, "I think I'm going to try to be the first female pope."   This of course, was just a cheesy joke made by yours truly, but Abbi decided to take it further.

The next thing I knew, I had a text that had this picture in it.

Yes, that is my face photoshopped onto the pope's body.

The reason my face looks so maniacal is because the picture used to create this lovely photo came from this:

Now if we zoom in further on me we get this.

Ah yes, this flattering picture of me is what was used to create the pope picture which is know known as the Polise (pope + elise = polise).  Now I know what you're thinking, but I want you to know that this picture was taken right after I swam a mile (that's 66 laps in a pool) in a full out sprint, and I assure that no one looks good after that.

I learned a lot of things through the course of the construction of this picture.

One being that Abbi is a photoshop savage, and also that I should not take pictures of myself minutes after doing hard physical exertion.

I know this blog post just seems like it's about how un-photogenic I am, but there is actually a point.

You should never be afraid to follow your dreams.  I don't actually want to become the first female pope, but I still have dreams that aren't exactly conventional.

I kind of want to start and all girls competitive kickball team called the Lady Ballers.  It sound really dumb, I know, but think about it.  How fun would it be to be on an all girls kickball team?

Anyone can follow do whatever they set their mind if they really go for it.

I mean in Legally Blonde, Elle Woods got into Harvard, and no one thought she could do it, but she worked hard and she accomplished what she wanted to accomplish.

So I guess what I'm trying to say is follow your dreams, because you can do what ever you want.

And in the spirit of life insurance, I'm going to end this post by quoting American Family Insurance:

"You're dream is out there, go get it."

Peace out girl scouts.

Elise :)

Hit the Lights

A couple days ago, I had a traumatic experience.  It wasn't one of those experiences that's going to set my life on a course of heartache and depression, but it obviously scarred me enough that I feel the need to share the story with you lovely people.  So here we go:

I was in art class, and I had to go to the bathroom, so naturally, I went to the bathroom.  I grabbed a hall pass and started the trek down the hallway towards my destination.

So there I was, walking along, swinging the hall pass, humming a jolly tune (not really but I feel as though it enhances the story so go with it), when all of the sudden, the lights went out.

The first thing I did was quietly scream, because you know, that was some scary shiz.  The scream wasn't loud, I guess you could say it was more of a frantic whimper, but nevertheless it was a cry of dismay.

I knew that I was the only one in the hallway, but still, the first thing I did was look around to see if I could find any more poor soles to deal with the darkness with me.  When I did look though, I noticed that the double doors leading back to the hallway the classroom was in, were slowly closing.

And that's when I panicked.  I don't even know what I thought was happening, but when the lights abruptly turn off and then doors start closing, the natural reaction is to be utterly terrified.  At least it was for me.

I took off in a full-sprint back towards the doors to get to them as fast as I could.  As I approached them, I saw them slowly come together, meaning in just seconds they were going to close.

Basically what I looked like.
(Courtesy of: Drawception)

So, you know, me being me and all, I figured that the best solution was to take a running start and catapult my body against the door so I wouldn't get locked in.  A couple feet from the door I jumped up, and heaved myself right into that door.

Guess what, it worked.  I got through the doors.  But as it turns out, the doors weren't locked, they were just closing, and not locking, so with all of the force I put into chucking my body into them, I ended up slamming the doors open and falling to the ground in my leap of glory.

I guess I was still high on adrenalin, because I hopped right up from the ground and walked back into class.

I got back inside, started shaking, and developed an overwhelming urge to lay down on the floor and cry, but it passed without incident.  I sat down in my seat, and told my heroic story to the people sitting around me.

Luckily, I didn't acquire any injuries in my journeys, though my bladder remained full of pee until the lights came back on.  I didn't have the courage to confront those dark hallways again.

There's really no moral to this story — except that when doors are closing, it's not always the best idea to hurl yourself into them in an attempt to liberate yourself.

I know for a fact that everyone I associate with is tired of hearing this story told, so I'll end at this, but   if this harrowing experience has taught me one thing, its this: never assume that the lights will stay on when walking to a bathroom, because I assure you, there is always a chance that they will in fact turn off.

(Also, shoutout to Corriney Cakes for going to the bathroom with me once the lights had come back on)

Anyways, keep it classy you glorious people.
Elise :)

Proud To Be Basic

We've all heard of white girls.

I don't mean caucasian females.  I mean the typical stereotype of the girl that wears Lululemon leggings, Uggs, and enjoys a good pumpkin spice latte.  We've all heard about them, and probably made fun of them before, but let me tell you a secret — you probably have more than a few white girl qualities.  (You can check here)

The ugly truth is that we live in a world where it's nearly impossible to not be a little white. Yes, even you sitting there with that sly smile on your face, have probably enjoyed a nice caramel macchiato while wearing leggings at one point in your life.

Everyone in the world is somewhat basic, and I'm here to say it's ok.  There is nothing wrong with being basic!

This lovely picture of quality footwear brought to you by: Thought Catalog

Sure, it's not necessarily a good thing, and I'm not a huge fan of people who are constantly shoving there basicity in your face, but I still support those people, because I too, am basic from time to time.

I own a pair of Converse high tops.  They aren't white mind you, but I only didn't get them white because I fall down a lot and I knew they would get dirty.

I wear leggings.  I don't have any Lululemon leggings, but that's because you have to mortgage your house to buy a pair and I like to save my money to buy tape dispensers in the shape of high heels.

I like Starbucks.  And though my normal order isn't a pumpkin spice latte, I do enjoy a good pumpkin flavored beverage from time to time.

Sometimes, I literally can't even.

I like Taylor Swift and I absolutely preordered 1989.

I'm not a big fashion person, but I mean when I die by all means scatter my ashes at Forever 21.

I use the phrase 'totes adores' multiple times a day and feel no shame.

And I believe that a perfect Instagram filter can change the world.

Now I'm just rambling, but I think I got my point across.  There's nothing wrong with being basic.  Of course I believe that everyone should strive to be different, but if what makes you unique isn't that you don't like Starbucks, then please don't think you're like everyone else, because you're not.

Wearing leggings and listening to Taylor Swift doesn't take away a person's individuality, it just means that they enjoy comfortable leg wear and good music about ex-boyfriends.

I'm proud to be basic, and you should be too.  So go put on your Uggs, and head to Starbucks, and rant to your friend about how you can't even.

Keep it basic ladies,

Elise :)

Just Breathe

There's a lot of things that are good for you — eating your vegetables, brushing your teeth, taking vitamins, etc.  Notice that holding your breath for a long time is not on this list.

Recently, I had my first drug experience.  And no, it did not involve drugs.  I held my breath for too long during swim practice and I kind of started hallucinating.  It was a great time and all, but I highly recommend against it.

And I did not hold my breath this long out of my own desire to see sounds, it was a set that everyone had to do.  It was 20x25's (a 25 is going across the pool), and they were all under water.  In case you don't understand what that means, it means you have to kink underwater from one end of the pool to the other without breathing.

Now, the coach wasn't necessarily trying to kill us, at least not that I'm aware of.  She did say, "If you come up for air we're starting over, but I don't want you to die, so you know...breathe if you must."  This comforted me a little bit, knowing that if I do start to feel euphoric from lack of oxygen I have permission to breathe, but I was still not feeling good inside about this.

I got myself more worried than I probably should of, and I ended up only needing to come up to breathe on seven or eight of the 25's.  Thinking back on it, I probably could have made all twenty if I really put my mind into it, but it wasn't worth my life or sanity to try to make all of them.

Candid picture of me holding my breath.
Photo courtesy of: Whiskerino

Now that's its done, I'm kind of glad we did it.  I mean, for like three hours after I had a throbbing behind my right eye and I couldn't really focus on something, but eventually that went away, and I believe that now I'm a better person because it.

Whenever I feel like something is hard, like cleaning the toilet or talking to adults on the phone, I can just say to myself, "It could be worse.  I could be purposefully drowning myself like I did at swim practice that one time."

It's nice to know that I did something that horribly abusive because now, other things don't seem as horribly abusive.

I think this is something we all need to learn — the fact that it could always be worse.  Unless of course you really half to pee during a lockdown drill, because nothing is worse than that.  Besides that though, everything could be worse, so whenever you find something horrible, just think to yourself that it could be a whole lot more horrible.

I understand that this is kind of a downer outlook on life, but I mean come on guys — when you think having to wake up early is so horrible, imagine what it must be like for kids that have to wake up three hours earlier than you do so they can go to work before school so they can buy food for their families.

We're really lucky to have the lives we have.  I mean, if you're reading this right now then you have access to a phone or computer, and that's better than most of the world has it.

I don't mean to make you feel bad about yourself.  You rock, and don't let anybody tell you differently, but the next time you think something is hard, just remember that it could be worse.

And maybe, thinking this will help it seem easier.  And if you can make something hard seem easier, why wouldn't you?

Keep your head above water, kids.
Elise :)

7 Things I Love and Why I Love Them

I love lists.  I mean, I just think they're the greatest.  So I figure, since this blog is about my opinion on things, I would make a list of seven things I love and why I love them.  So here it is, please enjoy, and if you agree or disagree with something on this list, please let me know.

1. Fall

I absolutely love the fall.  There's something about the leaves turning colors and everything being pumpkin flavored that reminds me of why the world is such a great place to live.  It's also my favorite time of swimming because it's the beginning of the season and practice is never hard.  But the main reason I love fall is Halloween.  I just think the fact that everyone goes out and buys candy for no reason except that kids expect it is awesome — I mean what a time to be alive.

2. Boy Bands

Chances are you probably don't agree with me because you don't enjoy watching teenage boys do wicked dance moves while harmonizing.  Which is fine, but I disrespect you and your life.  I don't know why I like boy bands so much, frankly I wish I didn't because it's super embarrassing, but never the less I do.  I especially love foreign boy bands.  Like from Australia or England or Canada.  All boy bands are fantastic, but ones that are foreign are the best.

3. Canada

By far, Canada is the best country.  I mean it has hockey, maple syrup, and Canadians.  There's virtually no crime, you get like twenty years of maternity leave, everyone says 'mate', and they hate America.  So if you are Canadian, or associate yourself with Canada, here's your appreciation:  WOOOOO CANADA!

4. Spiral Staircases

Ok imagine this: you're in a dark cave and you find two staircases.  One that's like you're average staircase, and one that's twisty and awesome.  Which would you pick?  Hopefully, if you don't suck, you would pick the twisty one.  I know this seems random, but I love spiral staircases.  In a perfect world every staircase would be spiraled — but alas the world is far from perfect.

5.  Sarcastic People with Large Vocabularies

These are hands down the best people in the world.  I try to surround myself with people like this, but they're a rare artifact that should be cherished, and they don't come around them too often.  So if you are lucky enough to come across someone like this, give a big hug and tell them that they are magnificent.

6. Mashed Potatoes

If I get started on mashed potatoes, then I'll never stop, so I'll leave it at this:  Mashed potatoes are life.

7. Feminism

Ok, ladies (and also males who feel that the genders should be equal), the world has a problem.  Well, the world has many problems but the one I'm going to talk about is feminism.  I think feminism is awesome and that everyone should believe in the equal treatment of the sexes.  But unfortunately there are people out there that think men are better and should have more rights.  These people should smack themselves in the face.  I still do believe in chivalry though.  Even though we got the vote doesn't mean we shouldn't have doors held open for us.

So here it is, my list of seven things I love. So any who, thanks for reading what I love, and I encourage you to eat some banana and have an excellent day.

Elise :)

For more classy gifs like this one, go to: Wired

My Inaugural Address

Dear Reader,

First of all, thank you so much for looking at my blog.  Really, you have no idea how awesome it is that someone actually cares about what I have to say.

I assume you came here for a reason, be it that I told you to forcefully, you were on Youtube looking at a movie trailer and four hours later you stumbled across it, or you're simply a person that likes to listen to the unapologetic truth of the world as told through the eyes of someone who hasn't even lived, my goal is to make you want to come back.

This is an opinion blog, meaning that you will be reading is my unfiltered opinion (ok, it's a little filtered, since this is for a school assignment) of the things that may or may not matter to you.

For example, office supplies is extremely important to me (my idea of heaven is walking through Staples with a large glass of cranberry juice and an unlimited amount of money), but you may think office supplies is a waste of money.  You may love boy bands (me too), or have a fascination with the making of cheese.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that everyone is different, and things that matter to me may not matter to you.

Which is completely and utterly OK.  Having different interests is what makes us interesting people.  

That brings me to the issue of controversy.

There will be some things I write on this blog that you may not be so into, and you may hate me for it.

So my promise to you is this:  I will do my best to not offend anyone, but never the less someone will be offended.

I'll try not to write anything super controversial, because my goal isn't to make people angry.  My goal is to make happy.

Personally, I'm horribly offended by flavored marshmallows, while you may be horribly offended by people that eat a lot of bananas.  I eat a lot of bananas.

So I guess what I'm failing at saying is that no one is capable of making everyone happy, but I will try my best to.

So to conclude my awkward introduction letter to you, I just want to say thank you again for checking out this blog and reading to the end of this letter.  You get 1,000 points that mean absolutely nothing.  I hope to make you feel nostalgic, maybe cry a little, but mostly make you smile.

This is going to be an adventure for me just as it's going to be for you.  So here we go.

Sincerely,
Elise :)

Courtesy of: Giphy