Smythe won the tournament, I got sixth place twice, but the real heroes are Long Beach for taking silver in the community division.
Another month, another resolution check in! As long as January felt, February flew by. Have I been keeping up?
I didn’t have the time to write the pump up, get hyped, let’s go kinda post I wanted because other things demanded to be written and pre-regionals preparations had to be made. But now, as I wind down and get ready for the weekend, I’m back with a little bit of Coach Mom’s Wholesome Quidditch Content.
In this third episode of West Coast Bias, Coach Mom has some tough love for her team, Smythe thinks the tournament picked the wrong MVP, and we both keep looking ahead to regionals.
Everyone makes resolutions for the new year. I know that this January was so long that felt like a whole year, but nope, we still have eleven more months to go. Time to check in and see if I’ve been working on reaching the goals I set for myself. Continue reading
Holy shit, how it is 2018 already? Is it because every year takes up a smaller percentage of my life and therefore feels increasingly insignificant? Is it because I can feel my youth slipping away from me in silver hairs and creaky joints?
A new year is as good a time as any to reflect back on the last 3.1% of my life. (I think it did the math right. But if you ever had a look at any of my math grades, you’d know that the likelihood of me getting it wrong is pretty high.) Each week for the rest of the month, I’ll be looking back at some of the things I blogged about the most in 2017.
So, let’s start with the topic that gets more hits to my blog than anything else: quidditch.
We’re six days into the year. The new car smell of 2018 is still there but slowly fading away. Now’s as good a time as any to talk about new year’s resolutions.
Between the two extremes of “NEW YEAR, NEW ME!” and “Ew, new year’s resolutions are dumb,” I think there’s a happy medium for everyone. Sure, the fact that January 1st is the day where one year turns into another is somewhat arbitrary. On the other hand, there’s something I’ve always liked about trying to plant the seeds of change in the depths of winter so that they’re in full bloom by the time spring rolls around.
(Never mind that it’s a humid and sprinkly 65 degrees in San Jose as I write this while the East Coast deals with Snowpocalypse 2018—it gets too dark too early and that’s what I mean when I use embellished purple prose like “the depths of winter.”)