This weekend was the final game of the winter co-ed adult indoor soccer season.  Fun name, no?  Anyways, we have a wonderful team (especially on the guys' side...the girls are really getting there, though).  Unfortunantly, half of our team failed to show for the season ender.  I know a good chunk of the people were busy in a Varsity Invite only track meet way over in Hermiston in Eastern Oregon, but the others apparently preffered to play a game of Fugitive instead (what really burns me is that none of them really came out and said that that was what they were planning on doing instead of our schedule soccer match.  All they shot at us were lame excuses...).  But you can't really force anyone to do what you want, so whatever.  I'm sure they had a good time anyways.  Oh, and about the game's results.  We played most of the game without a sub (until a kind stranger offered to play as our goalie, allowing us to put an already injured Scotty into the field).  Yeah, Scott was injured from his game earlier that night when he took a knee to his squishy gut, bruising an organ or two.  so we basically played with three of our regular guys, one of our regular girls, two girls that hadn't played indoor soccer before, and an injured Scotty.  What does this mean?  A 4 to 1 loss.  Oh well...

Ah, and onto other sporty news.  Team Good-Lookin' played in the Dodge Thirst dodgeball tournament.  We wore our kickass XC tie-dye shirts since we essentially were all guys from the XC team.  We played great until Kono and Ryan M. had to split for some volunteer work at some dinner thing, but we still played strong with a five man team.  Too bad we didn't make it to the end.  I must say, though, that our final match was total bullshit.  Although we still won, so many different parties were cheating in favor of the opposing team it was ridiculous.

All in all, I think the only other thing this weekend could use is a nice, long game of frisbee.

I was, for lack of a better term, a concert virgin until today's Matisyahu concert.  My sister had bought four tickets for me for my birthday way back in January and so I went with her, myself, Andrew B., and Archelle.

For those of you who don't even know who Matisyahu is, here are the basics about him: he's a Jewish Reggae singer.  Oh, and his current most popular song is "King Without a Crown."

Anyways, we get some spots that are pretty close to the stage down at the Crystal Ballroom.  The opening band wasn't that bad, but I kind of failed to get their name...So things are going good until these two guys (codenamed "sasquatch and "the terrorist" by Andrew and myself) cut their way infront of us and stood there.  Now Saquatch was freaking 6'6"+ and completely eclisped the light from the stage to everything behind him.  Both he and his much shorter sidekick danced funny.  sasquatch danced like a stereotypical tone deaf white man where as his stoner friend danced like a bellydancing hippy.  God, and once Matisyahu started up on stage, the terrorist started smoking pot in the middle of the crowd and blowing into other people's faces (granted there were tons of others smoking as well...but they atleast had the curtousy  of blowing it upwards).

The next inconvinience was this guy (dubbed the "green shirt guy" and his firend and girlfriend).  They ran through the crowd in the middle of the show all shoved their way all the way up to us and bumpbed and grinded the whole time (let me remind you that this wasn't really the type of music for that...so the joint that she smoked in the middle of the concert maay of had something to do with it).  Oh, and the green shirt guy's friend took a damn bottle of flavored water and spun it around in the air, spraying everyone around him with sticky water.

The final of the major annoyances was the excessively obese people that were bouncing up and down to the beat.  Now I am fine with this...unless they can't jump up and down in the same spot.  When they start roaming around I start to worry about gtting squashed.

All three of these are reasons why I will now arm myself with projectiles the next time I go to a concert.  ANdrew and I will have much pleasure pegging assholes like these the next time we pay for a performance.

I just had the best nap in my life.  Since today was my easy day school schedule wise, I had early release.  So during lunch, I was walking outside with some people when I noticed how friggin' beautiful the day was.  Seeing this gave me this wierd bit of senioritis for springtime.  It made me all anvious to get back in the sun while I sat inside the school in the cafeteria.  I just wanted to walk around barefoot on the grass outside and throw a frisbee around.

So what's a guy to do when he is in such a situation?  How about he go out and take a nap outside in the sunshine like me .  So I turned on the I-pood (yes, I know I mispelled it, but it's what I call it) and chilled outside.  Too bad no one else had early release and was still around school to hang outside.

Alright, so I finally got these pic's in from Florida, so here are a few from the album:

This is what the Earth looks like from 13,000 feet up.

At this is the point, I was like "...what the HELL am i doning?!" as I looked down at the Earth.

Yeah...no turning back at this point.

Good times.  Though, don't ask me why I have my fists like that because I really don't know myself.

(Pictures will be in the next blog since I'm still waiting for them to arrive)

My dad skydives regularly for pleasure and my sister has jump many times before, so it is only fair for me to go one day...that day being today.  I guess you could say that in my family, coming of age is accomplished by jumping out of a plane once you are old enough.  Guess that makes me a man now  .

Hmmm, I guess most of you are wondering what it's like (as well as if I'm insane).  Now what I did was a tandum (basically, you skydive with a trained person attached to you...I like to think of it as the lazy man's skydive since you don't have to worry much about knowing when to pull the chord, etc.).  Now the plane ride up was one of the scarier portions of the adventure.  Although I was nervous or scared about the jump, the plane was very small and kept getting throttled by the wind.  Once we reached the altitude of around 13,000 ft and just about everyone else had piled out of the plane, it was our turn to jump.  Standing in the doorway and looking down at the earth below is so surreal.  You don't really get afraid of how high you are, but I don't know why.  You just stand there with you brain screaming: "WOAH!  Now hold on there just one minute.  What are you thinking?!  Sit back down!!!"  And then the guy just counted down and we barreled out.  Now the barreling out portion I could've gone without.  As your body tries to adjust to no longer being in the plane, you get that feeling in your gut that you experience when riding a rollercoaster.  But once you flatten out, it's one of the best and oddest sensations ever.  When a person moves around on a daily basis, they are used to having something to push off of- maybe the floor, or a chair, etc.  But when you are falling at a speed of around 120 MPH, your arms and legs flail around trying to find this comfort that we take for granted.  Oh, and let's not forget the wind (it's really weird to breath with that much wind pelting you from underneath, not to mention how fast your mouth dries out if you open it).

And after a minute of this wonderful freefall experience, we pulled the chord and began the decent with our open chute.  When the chute is open, it is like sitting on a cloud.  I is so calm and peaceful up there, and you can't even tell that you are losing altitude.  And aside from a few spirals downwards, that was pretty much it.  But hey, it was a great journey that I'd gladly do again someday.

I must say, that I am now ending yet another thoroughly enjoyable part of my life.  No, I'm not talking about my high school days, especially when all that talk about how they are the "best years of our lives" is way overblown.  So what on earth could I possibly find amusing in my not so exciting life?  Can you say, cross country?  Sure people ask how anyone can like running, but if not for the sport, how about the people and good times that accompany it?  I guess only a XC runner would understand.

It's been so enjoyable that I've done it for six years straight (from 7th grade through 12th), and it turns out that I'm only one of two that has done this (Ken J. being the other).  It's been a nice journey.  In 7th grade I was blessed to be coached by Mr. Bullard as well as be able to particiapate in his annual tradition of taking the team to Burger King with the LO Junior High team.  Mmmmm...the Whopper eating contest.  Kudos to Jake H. and Jessica P. who completely kicked ass in the competition.  And let's not forget 8th grade XC with Mrs. Persichetti who now gives us sodas from her fridge whenever we pop in  .

There is no way I could properly sum up four years of high school XC in a short enough space to do it any justice while still fitting in a manageable, readable paragraph...or two.  I mean seriously, the season is so eventful and full of inside jokes and experiances that mentioning them out of context to fit them in wouldn't be right.

Though, I must say that I went out with a bang.  My final race ever (at districts) was 19 min 49 sec.  For all those that don't know my usual times over the years, this is a enormous PR.  Plus, I beat my rival from St Helens who also happens to be named Bryan. Oh, and by some odd chance I received a letter.  I think it was really more of a pity letter though...you know, since I've been stuck on JV for the past four years...But I'll take it any way.  Like I told Kern, I beat the system.

You know something is wrong when you sit in the backseat of a car, stare up into the starry night while trance blares all around you, and then you start having tripping out.  Oh, and I'd like to add that neither I nor anyone else in the car was on any substance.  God, it was like everything in the universe made sense again.  My mind was once again pondering the infinities that are time and space...something I hadn't done since I was a little kid back in Florida (though, I might want to add that these thoughts in the mind of a child are dangerous and left me in agony as I couldn't grasp comprehend existance in and of itself).

Anyways, Ben has this monster mix of Trance that Austin apparently burned for him, and so we cruised on over to the Tigard 11 (because Bridgeport is overrated...and is always flooded by LO and Tigard kids...) to watch The Rock's latest film, Doom.  I would like to add that Doom apparently scored a 30/100 on some movie review, but what the hell do critics know?  It reminded me of AVP in that everyone said it sucked when it really wasn't half bad.  Plus, it had friggin' FIRST PERSON MODE.  And might I add: "Paper beats The Rock."  If you see the film, you'll understand what I talking about.  Hell, you might even want to shout this out after some scenes (trust me, you'll know when to shout them).

Once again, I find myself participating in another refundable can/bottle fundraiser which means we take your wonderful, sticky cans and bottles and turn them into five whole cents for the crosscountry team...

And this year, Brandon, Monica, and I were assigned to sort the incoming bottles down at Palisades Market.  After numerous years of doing this, I have a few things to say to all of our wonderful contributers:

1.  Who the hell gives dirty shirts and empty milk jugs to a refundable can/bottle drive?!  We always get an article or two of clothing, and I don't get what goes through the minds of some of these people.

and...

2.  Please finish the beverage before handing it over to us....It really sucks when you open a bag of cans to find beer or soda glazed over all of the bottles because one or two cans were still half full.

I just hope I don't offend anyone who has donated, but these minor inconveniences can be avoided, so...

And after three and a half hours of sorting and bagging, Brandon and I took the "unwanted" bottles and cans over to Albertsons to finish the job...until we find out that 2/3's of the cans aren't accepted in the machines at Albertsons.  Jesus, can't a can just be accepted as a can than the color of it's "skin?"  After picking up some cookies in the store, we hopped on over to Safeway to finish up the job.  And guess what?  40 minutes later, we find that even Safeway won't take some brands of soda.  What the hell is this?  Do we have to make a nation for these brands like we did the jews since no other "nation" will accept them?

This blog is in memory of the Big K's and Sam Choice cans out there...may you find acceptance someday.

So I've slowly started to notice that when my friends drive by when I walk from place to place (in which tons of them do), they never let me hitch a ride.  It's always either a: "Haha, Pino!" or a "Hey man!"

What the hell is wrong with you people.  If it's cold outside (especially if it's wet), don't just drive by with a blank stare and act like you didn't see me.  It's not like I smeel bad or anything...do I?

Let's see...where to begin...

Umm, I guess I could start with Friday.  So on Friday I decided to go down Starbucks again to listen to Nick and Marcus play.  A quick mexipack later, I was in Starbucks and playing some of the guys in checkers and chess.

I guess Friday was more so the calm before the storm since I would be waking up early the next morning for the stupid SAT's.  That's right, I took the bloody test over in Oregon City H.S., and after five long hours, I found my self with senior-itis as I filled in my last few bubbles.  Unfortunately, I ended up missing my ride to the Champoeg Invite meet over in Newberg.   It ended up that people pulled off like 1-2 minute improvements in their personal records...

Sunday?  Well, I had plans, but then eroded away quickly as people ended up not being able to do anything...

Wow...wan't this an exciting update?