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Thursday, July 20, 2006


   Volleyball... Bleh.
...Bleh. I ache all over. Goddamn volleyball camp helper thing person. >.<

Well, mother dearest got a notice in the mail about a volleyball camp, so, since I like volleyball, I begged and begged (and begged) to be allowed to sign up for it. She was gonna say no on the grounds that it was too expensive, until my grandma pointed out that she'd signed my brother up for fencing, which cost 5 times more than it. So my mom lets me go. Which is cool.

So, yeah, I go, and I'm doing okay for me (I can actually control the ball) when one of the helpers comes over and tells me that I'm holding my hands as if I'm left handed, not right handed, and makes me change it. Lo and behold, I can't control the damn ball when I hold it the "right" way! So I go back to the way my dad (Who is left handed) taught me how to do it, the way I've been playing for five years, and I can control it again. The guy comes back and says I have to change my grip again, and if he sees me doing it the way that works for me I have to run up and down the stairs (the ones with the Scorpion painted on it) ten times. TEN!!!!!!!!

So I change my grip. I hit the ball. It goes wild and hits the helper in the head (good). He looks at me, and I'm holding my hands the way he said to, so he just sighs and shakes his head as if I'm the worst player he's ever seen. So I go back to my old way and hit it right to my partner ten times without it going wild.

And what does he do?

Makes me run up and down the damn stairs...

And I have to go back today, too! >.< Dammit... Don't be surprised if I die over the summer... Leave any kind of pink flowers on my grave, 'kay?

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