Regionals

It all started on a Friday.
Woke up early and panicked as I frantically tried to pack my bags for the trip. I arrived at the school at 7:30, right on time, barely.

*Commence mass boredom*

I spent the morning riding in a cold suburban with two lethargic people, who normally aren't all that entertaining anyways. Its like alcohol and Vicodin, they work as multipliers. My best form of entertainment was flailing my arms wildly when passing semi's to see if I could get them to honk. Which didn't work once. I finally arrived at Spokane and started warming up for my first match.
No amount of warming up would have prepared me for this though.

Whitman Huff.
This kid is insane. Nearly a perfect match skillwise to Troy Zerowski. So as you could guess I got destroyed, but I expected to lose that one, so it wasn't too bad. Scores were 6-0 6-1, I was rather proud of myself for pulling off one service game in the second set.

Shitty Kid.
This kid was shitty. Nearly a perfect skill match to shit itself. So as you could guess... I played worse then shit. I don't know what happened here. This kid was one of the kids where on any given day (except this one apparently) I could have taken him 6-0 6-0, easily. The amount of effort it would have taken would be too small to measure. Today I just couldn't hit though; couldn't focus, couldn't think, couldn't win.

And thus I was out of the regional tournament.

Spent the evening searching for this restruant, Cyrus O'Leary's, quite the akward enviornment, so many random decorations, one of which I was completely absorbed in. It was stuffed human sort of thing, with really long arms and legs and a clown hat. It hung from a bar on the ceiling and as the bar rotated it would lift so it would hang above the bar and do a front flip over it; this was repeated for hours, but I was on enough painkillers that it was the most awesome thing ever.

After dinner we headed to laser tag, it is so akward trying to explain my use of "Thermie" as my code-name for the game, honestly how few of my friends don't know that? Yes, I'm that nerdy. The game commenced, rather dumb that the lasers dont have a range of more then 30 feet or so, I mean their lasers, why only 30 feet!? I got 13th out of 31 people, not bad for my first attempt ever, I'm rather confident that I could get first from here on out, just took some getting used to. You wouldn't believe the limitations of lasers. Got confronted by some bum afterwards, wanted money for gas to get to Colville, I really doubted it, let the coach handle it while I went back to the van.

Got back to the room and stayed up till 2:30AM in the girls room watching Robin Hood: Men in Tights and swapping personal stories. A day full of tennis and staying up late would not be the best combination, as I discovered the next morning. I woke up to the felling of two girls jumping onto me on my bed, both were decently hot, my first thoughts if summarized and organized would look something like this, in the same order:

"Fuck.... Who did I sleep with..."
"Shit... I have no clothes on... must hold blankets over body..."
"Wait... I know these girls... fuck Jon... you better not have slept with someone you know..."

Finally my mind cleared and I realized Clint was in the room with me so most likely nothing happened, memory of the night before flooded my mind somewhere around breakfast which I ate with Tats. (Pronounced 'Tots') We hung out at the hotel a bit and left to watch the girls finals matches. Not too fun to watch.

Girls tennis is innately boring to watch; it's slow, it's redundant, it's FULL of drama. It's more like a bad soap opera then a sport. Nicole finally finished and won regionals, so that left us with 3 girls and 1 guy going to State.

I rode home in the girls van sharing a Ipod with Tats and everyone bummed pillows and blankets off me. Got home at six-ish and went swimming at the park, minus the swimming part. Ran into Ryan and some other guy there, hung out briefly and went home and passed out. Literally passed out on my bed. Later I went to a movie with Tats and hung out a bit.

This weekend was amazing, yet horrible, this weekend was a contradiction, as much as I love to point out that those don't exist. I guess in reality they don't and can't, but metaphorically? Metaphorically they do.

"A contradiction cannot exist in reality. Not in part, nor in whole. Everyone knows this."

-Jon