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(09/15/11 8:15pm)
This summer, I experienced an unfortunate loss. My beloved Dodge Neon, Peter, drove his last terrifying mile. Peter was a car with character. He was purple, with a black bumper, making it impossible for me to sneak around in high school. What was I going to say? "No Dad, that was another purple and black car with U.Va. stickers and key marks all over the sides at the club last night."
(08/31/11 5:34am)
For me, the first day of school is exhilarating. In April, I painstakingly debate which classes to take. I make charts, I color code, I graph. I set my alarm for 6:50 before my 7 a.m. SIS appointment to quadruple check that I have entered the right classes. I assumed this process was the same for the majority of students. After letting a few of my friends see the intense planning, and being laughed at for giving course selection "the affection of a cat lady trying to lure a feral cat into her home" - this is a direct quote - I have learned it's not the typical approach. So I am not afraid to say that my reaction to the first day of school is probably a little off-kilter too. I shop for new pens, admonish myself for buying said pens when I already have dozens stockpiled, select new notebooks carefully based on paper quality and coolness of cover graphics, organize my backpack with machine-perfect precision and think twice before jostling my backpack on the first day.
(08/20/11 4:00am)
This summer I had an eye-opening experience. No, I didn't save any orphans or build any houses for underprivileged families. Actually, when you look at it that way, I had more of a prolonged-glance-around-and-notice-that-some-things-are-not-quite-the-same experience.
(04/21/11 6:13am)
I have fallen in love. No, there is no new beau involved; just an old flame from high school who has raged back into my life like a bull let loose in the streets of Spain. This love does not involve texting, or creepy Facebook messages which always make me wonder exactly how someone found me when my page is so private my own father can't access it. Then again, my father did ask me the other day how to send a picture message - not so tech-savvy, that one.
(04/07/11 5:28am)
This past week, as our season ended with a loss in the quarterfinals of the WNIT, my teammates and I had some time off - an entire week when we were not expected to be active, touch a basketball or think about sweating. It was a novel concept for many of us.
(03/24/11 6:00am)
Maintaining a sleek, athletic figure as a varsity women's basketball player requires a high level of effort. This is what we tell ourselves when the dreaded "extra conditioning" is required. Depending on the difficulty of the workout, I use justifications ranging from "I can have a bigger dinner now" to "That strawberry cupcake I claimed was a healthy breakfast is gone," and "I'm probably burning off every calorie I ever have ingested." When one of us doesn't run up and down the court enough times during a game to maintain our heart's cardiovascular strength - that's a thing, right? - we are required to do extra conditioning.
(03/03/11 6:28am)
There is one thing I am familiar with, and that is travel. As a team we probably are on the road - driving or flying - at least once a week during the season. It has gotten to the point where I have a painfully specific list of things I need to pack - travel pillow, hooded sweatshirt and sewing kit, because you never really know when you'll need a needle. I can be ready for an away game in less than four minutes, and that's a difficult talent to hone. I've considered offering classes. Please, send me an e-mail if you're interested.
(02/17/11 7:38am)
Recently, I have come to terms with one thing: My teammates and I love food. Usually I chalk this up to playing an intense sport, one that involves a lot of banging into each other as hard as we possibly can for two to three hours a day, running until we feel light headed (then continuing to run) and shooting the same shot until our arms feel like rubber. During preseason conditioning we do not consider a workout complete until we reach the point of no return. This point can be described as the moment when you consider at just what angle you would have to throw yourself across the court to make it seem as if you were collapsing from exhaustion mid-sprint. Yes, I attribute our enormous appetites to these types of workouts.
(02/03/11 5:34am)
During the past two weeks you may have noticed some obnoxiously tall women carrying around obnoxiously bright blue and orange basketballs. This is the project that was delegated to my teammates and I for the next...well, we're not really sure. Upon receipt of the basketballs we were told that we were to carry them absolutely everywhere: to class, to the mall, to the bathroom.
(01/20/11 6:32am)
Winter Break is often a month or so at home, enjoying mother's home cooking, spending time with friends from high school, perhaps a quick internship for the ambitious - but only for those of you who are not members of the women's basketball team. Our break is to the point. This year we had five days off after final exams and were expected back in Charlottesville Dec. 26 for practice. For my teammates north of Virginia, this meant leaving home Christmas night to avoid a snowstorm that was touted to rival last winter's blizzard and resulted disappointingly in a dusting of the Charlottesville treetops. I'm definitely not bitter.
(12/02/10 6:36am)
Instead of going home this Thanksgiving Break, my teammates and I went to the Virgin Islands. I know, I know - you're rolling your eyes imagining how that can't be worse than dry turkey and questionably soggy stuffing with Gran Gran and the clan? Well, for starters, we were heading there for a basketball tournament, not a relaxing vacation. Of the five-day trip, one involved travel, three involved games and the last included a practice.
(11/18/10 5:00am)
One of things I have enjoyed most about my second year of being a student-athlete on the women's basketball team is the looming threat of study hall. After my first year, my academic coordinator deemed my GPA high enough to be exempt from mandatory study hall.
(11/04/10 5:00am)
Did you know the University has 16 libraries? The last two weeks have shown me exactly why the University is one of the top schools in the country. Because it is, quite simply, rather difficult to be a student here. During this time frame, I've had three exams, a paper and several homework assignments on top of all that.
(10/21/10 5:54am)
Rumor across Grounds has it that the best dining hall in town is the most difficult to find. Searching for it is like embarking on a journey reminiscent of Frodo's odyssey without the tiny grey gremlin and adorably chubby sidekicks yearning for scones. Also with less arrows.
(10/07/10 5:19am)
There are numerous benefits to being a muscular, well conditioned, 6-foot-3 girl. I can open all the pickle jars in the house. A jog to catch the bus with my stuffed backpack does not leave me winded. Most important, I can keep the good snacks on top of the fridge, out of my family's reach. Having such gifts, however, does come with a price.
(09/23/10 6:13am)
It is 11:53 p.m. My computer, calculus book, notes and perhaps tiny pieces of my sanity are strewn about my bed. My lap desk is long gone. It was purple once, I think, but in a fit of limit-induced frustration I threw it down my stairs. It has not been heard from in several hours. My calculus test is tomorrow at 7 p.m., and I am studying like I have never studied before. A normal person would think, "Relax, you have all day tomorrow, don't you?" Not actually true. Tomorrow at 6 a.m., I will be waking up to lift weights, followed immediately by classes until noon, workouts until 3 p.m., a seemingly flattering photo shoot an hour later and a discussion at 6 p.m. At some point I would like to eat and/or breathe.