Scrap

I don't understand.

I don't understand where a lot of my strength comes from, just like I don't know how I look on the basketball court and I know I never will. All I know is that I love to play tough and use the "power of the butt," probably because nobody ever believes that I do such things until they see me.

Tonight, we're playing Jess Schwartz, one of the most aggressive teams in the league. Last night, with our 24-4 victory over Mesa Prep, my team boarded a wave of self-confidence that I hope will tide us over until we win this game, too. I especially would like to win against Jess Schwartz, mostly because of certain unfortunate events that happened between summer 2008 and winter 2009. If you know what I mean. Which, probably, you will not.

Mesa Prep only had five players on their team, so I was very empathetic towards them. Last summer, I played on a coed basketball team with four guys. We started out with 20 players, and by the first game, there were five of us. It's hard, running for 16 minutes in a row, and getting bruised and battered into the bargain. When I first started playing basketball in 9th grade, though, I never thought I would get this addicted.

Meanwhile, I'm attempting to apply for a scholarship which could get me THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS IN EDUCATION. THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS. Thousands. Of course, only eight people win every year, and those that do have to, in my words, "organize a soup kitchen...and drive a bloodmobile...and donate shoes."

Donate shoes! Holy smuckers! I don't know if I'm up for that.

Here are the books I am/want to be/should be reading, at the moment:

Wrong Medicine, a book about dying people

Things Fall Apart, a book that makes white people feel guilty

The Memory Keeper's Daughter, a book which makes me want to adopt a child

Sons and Lovers, a nasty book

The Woman With a Worm in her Head, a book about the curious relationship between women and worms (oh dear God, did that sound nasty)

The Handmaid's Tale, a book which makes 1984 look cheerful.

So now, since my conscience is starting to get to me about all the work I should be doing, I shall leave you with a quick brain-teaser:

"A cowboy rode into town on Monday, stayed two days, and rode out on Monday. How?"

And this: