I woke up around 10 today and waltzed around for a bit as I always do. Then, I looked at what homework I wasn't going to do today. I thought about doing it, I really did. But then I looked over at my ski helmet and thought that doing the next layer of paint would be more fun. I guess I haven't written about that yet. My ski helmet's shell was coming loose and would shake around when I moved my head from side to side. I have had it for several years now, so I decided that I wanted to make it cool before I have to get a new one. I bought 3M mounting tape and stuck it between the foam and the plastic to stick the shell into place. It worked like a charm. I also bought spray paint and sandpaper so that I could make it look cool... like a rebel pilot helmet from Star Wars. You know, like the one Luke is wearing when he blows up the Death Star. Pretty cool, huh. I just did the layer of red for the striping today, I'll probably do marigold sometime this week and then do the insignias later. Not sure how I'm gonna do that yet, but hopefully it's ready by Saturday. What even is a satur anyways? Sounds like Saturn. (*edit, I looked it up, and yeah, it's from the Latin for day of Saturn. Who said planets weren't cool?) I usually paint over by the decrepit volleyball courts just north of Heritage because I figured nobody would care if the sand had some paint on it. I keep expecting some BYU guy to come yell at me but so far nobody has. Looks dope though.
I went to church in my baby blue suit, which a lot of people complimented. However, nobody talked to me at church or said welcome, never seen you before, or anything like that. I sat by myself and waited for Ethan to pass the sacrament. Then he came and sat by me. We finished church and a couple of girls that he knew talked to us for a bit and then we walked home from the JKB with them. Fast forward to ward prayer tonight when we hung out with them again. I still don't know their names. And I'm lowkey scared to ask now because they definitely know mine. Oh well. I'll hear it eventually.
I got a text from the mothership during church asking if I had plans tonight. She needed help moving a table hutch thing into the dining room that she bought off KSL. I knew she was excited because she's been looking for something to match the cherry in that room forever, so I said I'd be there. I went after church and we moved it as Jed (neighbor guy who always has something to say about our manual labor techniques that you'll hear about eventually) watched on from his driveway at the end of the cul de sac. When the Erin had to take a break from carrying it up the stairs I told her to hurry before Jed comes up and tells us what to do. She picked it up immediately. We got it in the house and put it where it needed to be, then she said "Where are we eating?" She likes to play this game where she invites me home to go eat but refuses to choose a place and makes me do it. It's a dumb game. But she plays nonetheless. She could go pro if she really wanted. After 15 minutes of deliberation, we chose Texas Roadhouse. We went there (on the day of the sun, I know. I'm a sinner. Thrust me down to hell already so we can get it over with.) We sat down and I looked over my mom's shoulder to see none other than my high school floral teacher, Mrs. Blackburn. She liked me quite a bit because I did all of the projects fast and asked her how she felt about the anti-GMO movement. She said she would get fired if she told me how much she hated it for the choice words she would say. Eventually, I went over and said hello briefly, and she said it was nice to see me and to keep her update on what I'm up to. I went back, we ate our food, and then we went home. Then I drove back to campus and went to ward prayer and played games as we always do. Dallin (I think that's his name), the ping-pong master, challenged the winner of mine and Ethan's game. It happened to be me, and I lost to him really bad. He's pretty social awkward, and is vice president of BYU's ping-pong club. He also doesn't live in Heritage. He just comes to challenge people at ping-pong. Imagine being good at something.
I also saw William Westerberg today. He was on my 7th grade TSA competition team. We won first place in the state competition together and got to go to Atlanta, Georgia. Then we got there and my teacher didn't bring enough Lego pieces for us to complete their challenge. Lame. Could've been national champions. Ironically, we beat Oak Canyon Jr. High to get there, who had won the last 5 or so years in a row. I then moved there the year after, but didn't do TSA. That trip was crazy. We thought it was a day later than it actually was, so a young, 7th grade Will was awoken at 4 am the day before he thought he was leaving and was handed a cell phone, some cash, and a duffle bag with a couple of pairs of shorts. Apparently motherboard had it in her calendar wrong (right, but the wrong context) and my teacher called at 4 to ask why I wasn't at the school. We had to meet them at the airport and I was not prepared for that trip at all. I think I had like 200$ cash or something crazy for the whole week. Then mothership Amazoned some stuff to our hotel. We stayed in the Omni Hotel, which was crazy rich hotel stuff. CNN had their headquarters there or something like that. By some miracle, I didn't lose the 200$ and I made it through the week. I was fairly homesick though, maybe because I left so unexpectedly, but I did get home before that much longer. It was only like a 5 day conference or something. I promptly quit TSA forever after that. Goodbye, Mr. Wardle. If you're reading this, just know that it wasn't your fault. Things just weren't working out between us. Also, you are old and I'd be impressed if you're still alive right now. I take that back. I'm pretty sure you teach at Provo High now.
Anyway, didn't do any homework and spent my last 20 minutes writing this instead of catching up on the Iliad. Why? Because I'm writing history, not reading it. Quote that. Make it your phone background or whatever. Bye.
"I'm writing history, not reading it."
-Will Ott
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