There’s a simple reason to why I haven’t mentioned Brandy or my upcoming karate championship since I first mentioned the both of them.
And thats because even talking about those two subjects makes the hair on my neck go stiff as a whitewashed fence.
But this morning when I woke up, I realized I was being just plain silly. I mean, what is even the POINT of having a journal if you can’t write about anything and everything in it??
So I decided that today is the day I come clean, spill my GUTS out.
Well, because a part of me feels that if I write it down, if I put my feelings on paper, I’ll feel a bit better about the situation. Okay, and maybe the part of me that feels that way is real desperate and is as crazy as Sir Nate. But it can’t hurt to try, right??
So. Let’s start with talking about >Eeni Meeni Mynee Mo…< Brandy.
Boy, is she the most annoying being I have set my eyes on or what?? I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I am GLAD Kathryn is my sibling. Because what if they switched places and I got BRANDY as a sister instead?? >GULP!!!<
The thing is, sometimes she ain’t SO bad. For example, when I was finishing up my breakfast today, she poked my elbow and said [in that sickly sweet voice that she uses to melt the adult’s hearts], ‘I made this for you, Taylor!!’ I felt my blood shoot down to my toes [because, let me just remind you, that her so-called “gift” could have been ANYTHING, ranging from a time-bomb with two seconds left to ERUPT LIKE YELLOWSTONE to a dried piece of extra stinky cow-dung].
‘Gee, thanks,’ I mumbled, pressing the parcel to my ear to make sure that it wasn’t a timed explosive.
‘OPEN IT!!’ She screeched, thumping her palms on the table. ‘OK, OK,’ I said, still shaking from the impact of her fist-banging fit. Slowly unwrapping the shimmering pink paper. ‘Aww,’ Mum cooed from behind me when I revealed what lay inside; a multi-chromed bracelet that had “Tailor Is My Faworit Sis” imprinted on it.
It’s hard to explain what went through my mind at that moment. A part of me thought that this was just apart of her little act to prove to my parents that she is this cute little angel, pure as the driven snow. But what I turned to look at her, I couldn’t help but notice that little gleam in her eyes, like she was waiting for me to say something. I don’t know what came over me, but I spread out my arms and said, ‘Come here, you,’
Well. -This is awkward- We had this little hugathon. [DON’T EVER MENTION THIS IN FRONT OF ME OR I’LL TWIST YOUR EYEBALLS OUT OF YOUR SOCKETS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] And sure, it was a little weird. I mean, I’ve spent practically all my life not liking this little twit.
But people change right??
Who am I kidding?? Brandy isn’t just “a little girl.” She’s more evil than a hundred Cruella De Vil’s!! I bet that right now, she is huddled up in a corner of the room, giggling over how she managed to trick me into believing she even had a sliver of niceness in her.
I’d better start writing about the National tournament now. Because that’s been eating me up since Sensei Whyatt mentioned it a few weeks ago.
It’s not like we haven’t trained hard, because Lord knows we have. Since last Monday, as per Sensei Whyatt’s instructions, we’ve been having daily karate sessions that have been nothing but strenuous. One guy, Patrick Miller, I think his name is, actually fainted yesterday, while we were doing the pull-ups.
Speaking of body conditioning, Sensei has ALSO commanded us to do fifty sit-ups every night before we go to bed and increase the number by five every day. Man, my stomach was ready to just BURST open on the first night. I half expected to see my intestines dangling out of my PJ’s.
You cannot IMAGINE the pain. The intense, powerful, absolute pain that surges through my body as I struggle to pull myself upwards.
I’m just SO nervous, you know?? After the epic FAIL of my previous competition, I really have to up my standard, do everything brilliantly. I should be on everybody’s mind as they leave the arena. And not as the girl who broke the world record for the most number of consecutive losses at a National Tournament either, but as “that girl who delivered such a mind-blowing performance that, even though I hate physical exertion more than diets, I’m totally gonna join that karate class that’s opposite school in hope that maybe one day Ill be as good as her.”
SO scared. If I don’t do well, I’ll be CRUSHED. I can’t deal with another disappointment. Face it, I’ve NEVER lost. Class prefect elections?? I’m voted valedictorian. Math pop quiz?? I top my standard. Martial Arts exam?? I break the all-time dojo record for most gold medals won in a single day.
Maybe that’s my problem. I just don’t know how to deal with failure, because I’ve never had to. Until the previous contest, that is. That’s probably why it came as such a blow. I never expected to even come SECOND in class.
Anyway, thanks for listening, DeDe. It’s not like you had a choice or anything, but it sure felt nice to spill about stuff that’s been bugging me of late. I’ve got to go practice my karate moves for a bit now.
Oh, who am I kidding?? I CLAIM that I’m going to go practice, but I’ll probably be distracted by something or the other and spend my evening watching How I Met Your Mother with a bowl of Butterscotch ice cream.