Today was the first day of my debate tournament that will be held in SLA at 3:30. Today consisted of writing a case in less then two hours to debate and finding out the rooms and judges for each team that will come. It is a particularly stressful day to be able to get everything done in time for the mini tournament that will be held on Tuesdays. This is part of my capstone and is a major step in creating more oppurtunities for students to debate. It will help everyone get prepared for the tournament next week at the Bell classic, which has teams from the state of Pennsylvania debating at all levels.

One night, when I had no sleep to brooklyn, I saw a sign that read, "Welcome to Paradise, Home to Jesus of Suburbia." Faithfully, my friends would Stand By Me with their 21 Guns. After a day or two in "Paradise" I told my friend Alejandro, I did not want to Comedown, because I felt like a Basket Case. Then, it Crashed Into Me I knew I had a Bad Romance because I was Thinkin' 'Bout Somethin' and All Of The Lights went off in the room, then went on a few hours later. About the third day, the Brass Monkey dropped off a letter in which I opened immediately. The letter started off like all of my letter's with Dear John. Soon after I read the letter, I wrote one back starting with, Hey There Delilah. In the letter I told her "to stay Just The Way You Are, because you know I would catch a Grenade for you, and When I Come Around the Paparazzi will be following me." But now that my dream is over, Its time to go Back To December.

During Edu Con weekend a couple of my friends and I volunteered to help out and participate in the festivities. This picture represents the weekend in general and the good times that my friends and I had during the weekend. We were not only productive in terms of helping out during the weekend, but we also found time to bond with each other and have some fun.

​One day I was over zach's house playing video games. The game in particular was Fable 3 and I was playing as an evil ruler. My characters name was The Evil Blue Chicken King because I went around in a chicken suit that was dyed blue. I killed almost all of the villagers with my gun. It just so happened to be named the OrphanMaker9000. It was named that because kids can't die in this just their parents. To combat this I decided to build factories and repeal the child labor law so they all have to work there. I also turned the orphanage into a brothel to prevent further kids. Anyways after that I wanted to go to sleep and when I am over I use an air mattress, but the problem was that the batteries died in the pump. Keep in mind its like 4 in the morning and I am already delirious but I decide to try blowing it up myself and 1 and a half hours in and the bed isn't even 1/15 of the way there. Now I'm light-headed and angry and refuse to believe the batteries are messed it. 
"It must have been a tech issue" I said
So I called Evett and she didn't take the call too well.
"TEEEEEEEEEEECCCCCHHHHHH SSUUUPPPPOOOORRRRTTTT" I yelled in a zombie like groan.
"Anthony what the hell do you want its 4 in the morning"
"Evett the air mattress pump is broken I need tech support"
At that moment Evett hung up and Zach was angry that I had called someone but I wasn't satisfied I need support.....Badly. So I called my friend Cornelia and got the same greeting. At that point Zach took my phone from me and I passed out on the floor. Great night.

​Sometimes senior year changes things. In the beginning of the year I spent my time after school with the same people everyday. Things happen, schoolwork becomes overwhelming, and my after school crowd changes. By the middle of the school year, my spreadsheet looks completely different. This is the tracking that I record every week for my statistics class. I record how long I stay after school, why I stay after school, who I hang out with, and who I leave with. It's the "Hang out" category that suffers such a tremendous change.  

Last year, I had the opportunity to travel to the Grand Canyon. I got to connect with some kids from my school and I also got to meet new people. At night we would sleep under the stars, camped out on the bank of the Colorado River; and during the day we would white water raft, taking occasional breaks to play a game of ninja.  It was a great trip; however, one day the rapids were unusually violent – tossing our paddle boats at will. My boat had the most experienced rowers, so we were able to maintain control, albeit while narrowly avoiding a large jagged rock in the middle of the river. However, the others weren’t so lucky. We looked up to see several of our classmates floating down the river. Luckily, we didn’t panic and we were able to get our classmates to safety, while rescuing the majority of our equipment that had gotten lost in the struggle.

Ok I feel like a lot of my stories will involve the escapades of my youngest brother, Dalton, and I. He's eight years old, in third grade, the spawn of Satan and Spiderman and my best friend. 

I work at the Mütter Museum, and most weekends I'm there giving tours. Well, last weekend, Dalton decided he wanted to come with me because he loves the museum. This particular time I was giving a tour to a group of adult students. Dalton tagged along for the actual tour rather than wandering the place himself, and he had much of the tour memorized, well, as memorized as his eight year old mind could understand. 

We got to one of his favorite exhibits, the "Megacolon", which is a ridiculously huge distended colon taken from a man who suffered from a condition called Congenital Aganglionic Megacolon, or Hirschsprung's Disease. This is basically a section of colon that has no working nerve endings, causing chronic constipation and an accumulation of waste that cannot be naturally excreted by the body.

 Anyway, I mentioned that the specimen we had on display was a "biological specimen", and that it was the original colon casing and was now stuffed with straw. Dalton had been politely quiet until this point, where he cut in and turned to address the crowd of adults surrounding him. He said, with a perfectly straight face "Yes, it is now full of straw, however, originally, it was full of poo." 

How he managed to say this in such a serious tone with a straight face and not dissolve into laughter, (he is eight after all) is beyond me, but it's just one of many reasons why he's great, and I think he might have to come to more of my tours to add in his own anecdotes. 

​That night I was awaken by a deafening crash. I sat up in my twin bed attempting to assure myself that it was nothing more than the illusion of the dream I’d awaken from. But then the booming crash was followed by another crash, only this time it didn’t leave a faint echo in my mind. I took a look at the clock on the front of my cable box, which read “2:33”. After falling asleep while watching a marathon of “I Survived” (which is a documentary show that interviews people who survived life threatening events) several hours prior, I was prepared for the worst. I slowly slid myself off the side of my bed, trying to avoid the humming of my springs which may alarm whosever in the house. As I stood beside my bed I became aware that I was on the third floor of my home, which was the highest floor. By the time I would reach the first floor, who knows what I’ll come face to face with. I tiptoed from my room to the top of the stairs where I knew one false move on any step could create a loud creaking sound alerting who or what ever entered my home. I tread along the edge of my steps with the tip of my toes trying not to make a sound. When I reached the bottom of my stairs, I stared at my mom’s door thinking. What if he’s already in here just waiting for me to walk by? Is he standing on the opposite side of the door sensing my fear? The more I thought, the faster my heart began to beat, so with hesitation, I twisted the knob on my mom’s door, slightly ajar enough to peek my head through. To my amazement, she was sound asleep with my younger brother and sister on each side. I wondered if she heard the same distinct crash I had minutes earlier. Was it only my imagination? I was hoping so, but I didn’t want to take any chances of falling asleep and waking up to a masked figure standing over me on the side my bed. I had to check downstairs as well to be sure. My mom had the habit of leaving her television on while she was asleep, and tonight wasn’t any different. As I began to close her door, I looked at her screen and noticed that she was watching the marathon of “I Survived” as well. My heart began to beat twice as fast, I couldn’t help but become paranoid at the fact that a stranger could still be in my home hiding behind any door within any shadow. I walked down my second floor hallway aware to walk on the right hand side because the floor wouldn’t creak.

As I stood at the top of the last flight of stairs, I stared into the darkness below me. The only light I could see was the moonlights’ reflection from my doors’ windowpane. I closed my eyes and slowly walked down every step until I reached the bottom. I began to open my eyes prepared for anything to come my way, but nothing was there. While I walked past the front door on my way to the kitchen, I felt a sharp chill come across my chest and arms. The cool air moved to the bottom of my bare feet, and then I knew it … the front door was recently opened. While walking I noticed the faint smell of marijuana the closer I came to the kitchen door, I knew someone was in the house now. I walked quietly in front of the kitchen door and noticed that it was slightly opened and the light was on. This was the moment I was waiting for; this was the moment of truth. The instant I pulled the handle to open the door, the light turned off. I took approximately three steps back to find the nearest lamp and when I did, I immediately twisted the handle. As soon as the light turned on I saw him, a black masked figure standing in the kitchen door way. He stared at me, I stared at him, as I looked down I noticed one of the several kitchen knives we owned in his left hand. The only part of his body I could see was his eyes, and the only expression I saw on in his eyes was genuine evil.  As he walked towards me I took steps back and the only thought that carried through my mind was that I may be telling the story tonight’s events on an episode of “I Survived”.

For some people conversations just never  end. 

D: Okay. Enjoy yourself. 

K: I'll try to. 

D: Good. :). Bye. 

K: Don't say Bye.

D: Why? 

K: It's final. 

D: I'm sorry. Didn't mean for it to be final in any way. Talk to you later?

K: Yes, later. 

I guess you can say, we are two of those people.