I have a website!

Okay folks, some of you might have been wondering what's been up. I'd pretty much fallen off the face of the internet world for a while there. It was because I was planning and plotting your demise and a website. Not to worry, your demise is soon to come. Anyways. The website. I won't be posting here anymore. If your interested in reading my ramblings go to http://web.mac.com/cicily.bennion. Have fun!

Many Inspired Quotes

I recently finished a book called Sleeping Freshmen Never Lie by David Lubar. I highly suggest it, but that is not the point of this blog. In this book there is a rather strange character who begins to put random pieces of paper on her locker with gibberish such as "This is not a locker," or " This is a locker," or "This is not a cantaloupe." This has inspired me to do something rather strange and out of the ordinary. Starting tomorrow there will be a different quote displayed on the outside of my locker, except of course for the weekends and break days. I'm not devoted enough to break into the school for the cause. I figured why stop there? So here are some of the quotes that I have prepared. I have plenty because I'm sure some obnoxious wanna be gangsters who are angry because they can't read, let alone appreciate the wit, will tear them down. Here they are. Enjoy on my feast of sophisticated humor.

Never knock on Death's door; ring the bell and run away! Death hates that!

- Matt Frewer

The case has, in some respects, been not entirely devoid of interest.

- Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (Sherlock Holmes)

It's a control freak thing. I wouldn't let you understand.

- S.H. Underwood

Correct me if I'm wrong, but hasn't the fine line between sanity and madness gotten finer?

- George Price

It's amazing that the amount of news that happens in the world every day always just exactly fits the newspaper.

- Jerry Seinfeld

A great artist is always before his time or behind it.

- George Moore

The world is round; it has no point.

- Unknown

A coward is incapable of exhibiting love; it is the prerogative of the brave.

- Mahatma Gandhi

Seeing ourselves as others see us would probably confirm our worst suspicions about them.

- Franklin P. Adams

The need for change bulldozed a road down the center of my mind.

- Maya Angelou

As if there were safety in stupidity alone.

- Henry David Thoreau

The good ol' days

Admittedly, I feel like I'm eighty years old, but the truth is I often find myself reflecting on "The good ol' days." Call me whatever you want, crazy, delusional, or your sweet little bunny boy, but it's the truth. So since my life is, as of right now, thoroughly boring I've decided that this is what I will blog about.

One memory that comes to mind is one about me and my friends, Sydni and Makayle. Sadly both Sydni and Makayle are now in a better place. By this I meant hat they are both no longer living in Powell. Sydni moved every five second, so I'm not sure, but I believe she is somewhere in Illinois. Makayle lives in Moses Lake, Washington. We've kept in touch. Before the moved we made some pretty sweet memories though.

Sydni, Makayle, and I bonded in sixth grade. Makayle and I have been friends since first grade and Sydni lived in Powell since about fifth grade. I'd never paid much attention to her until sixth grade, when we were forced into that cruel life crasher, called middle school. I formed new ties and strengthened old ones. 

Oddly enough the memory I am choosing to focus on in this blog is the moving away party we held for Sydni. Sydni moved away on December 23rd, 2005. We held a party the day that school got out for Christmas break, December 22nd, 2005, at Pizza Hut. I believe the pictures I am about to show you will speak for themselves, but I will add captions just incase.

This is a picture of me and Sydni. We are wearing hats made out of paper that say Elf 101 on them. We were elves in training. We are both wearing oddly nice clothes and she is wearing a scarf of fake leaves. We were going to try to convince the waitress that we were a part of a strange cult be we were acting too much like we were five to pull it off. We did manage to look like retards though.
This is Makayle and me. I tried, unsuccessfully, to not look like a retard as I put my arm on her shoulder. She did bunny ears on me, but I couldn't reach, so I made Makayle stop, but Sydni hid behind us and did bunny ears for both of us.
We discovered the satanic claw game. Sydni is gesturing to the animal we were after. It's the ugly penguin. We were going to win it for her. We wasted twenty dollars in a fruitless effort.
Do not ever threaten to beat up Sydni because she will begin laughing hysterically.
Here we are trying to get the penguin. I love this picture because it's so perfect. This wasn't set up. We really were this eager for the festive bird.
This is just probably the most awesome piece of photography ever. I was trying to take a picture of Makayle and she was trying to take a picture of me. She shoved me as I was taking the picture and it turned out like this. Sweet, huh?

Flop, goes the weasel!

Because my school is insane and for some reason feels it should teach its students how to NOT drown, we have a swimming unit in P.E. I hate it as have my sisters in the past. You see, a lack of swimming skills is hereditary, at least for the girls in the Bennion family, the boys I'm not so sure about. Sharing horror stories of our swimming days is a favorite pass time for the Bennion Sisters.

I clearly remember one story Bethany told. It took place in the eighth grade. One of the things every eighth grader must do in the swimming unit is dive, but not just dive. You must dive off the diving board. The thought of this brings the icy chill of fear into every Bennion woman who values their abdominal area, pride, and life. But as Bethany stood trembling on the diving board with her knees buckling she gained courage from the cheers that echoed around in that vast pool room. "Go Bethany!" and, "C'mon! You can do it!" I'm sure were just some of the remarks heard there. Dragging in an unsteady breath she bent her knees, tucked in her chin, pointed her hands and sprung. She flew through the air making a perfect arc, a rainbow shooting out from her feet. Her hands broke the water and the rest of her body, literally, dived in. Silence. The water filled her ears and her borrowed goggles allowed her to see through the perfect blue water. The legs of her peers stood in the distant shallow end. She erupted from the surface. Cheers echoed. They had never seen such skill. Not a splash occurred as she slid into the water. A glorious moment was then. It went down in the history of her eighth grade diary, I'm sure. The diary probably recorded such events as being carried off out of the pool, and Italian men with handle bar mustaches serenading her. Now in the twenty first century I record my similar experience in something comparative to a diary - a blog.

I stood. I did not shake. I do not fear the water, just hate it. I have friends willing enough to save my life also, so that's a plus. I didn't deliberate. My theory was sooner or later you'll have to go, flop or not. So I took a deep breath and stared down the cool blue surface beneath me. I briefly enjoyed the sensation of intact abdomen muscles and plunged into the deep blue. It was not nearly as graceful as Boppy's dive. I flopped. It echoed in the pool hall. I squeezed my eyes shut and struggled to resurface. As I broke the surface the air still held the weight of the gasps and winces that had erupted in my short time under water. My legs and stomach burned. The cool water soothed the stinging on my bare skin some, but not nearly enough. Rushing up to me came some eager spectators, "Are you okay?" and "That would be sooo funny if it didn't look so painful!" They yelled, oblivious that this was not comforting at all. I smiled through the tears threatening to escape my eyes and assured them of my safety. The shame burned almost as much as my entire body.

From this experience I have gained an unfathomable respect for my sibling Bethany, who really did nothing right but have some beginner's luck. The jealousy still stings though because, I on the other hand did not get serenaded by Italians with cool mustaches. Nor did I get carried out of the pool and I'm positive I needed that more than her.

Hello, my name is Chico.

Those of you who are reading this and have known me for a long time (Possibly my lifetime) you may be wondering, "Chico, why does she call herself Chico?" but then again if you've known me that long you shouldn't really be surprised by this change. I have changed my name to Chico. Why you ask? Because there happens to be a new girl at the school by the name of Cicily. I was shocked. What are the odds? The only two Cicily's in the world have been put into one school and some of the same classes. If I'm going to beat the odds it should be by winning the lottery or something cool like that but no, I get to share a name with the only other Cicily in the world. So I could not take this. There is no way I'm sharing a name with ANYBODY else. I just don't care for this other Cicily enough to share with her. I don't care what you say about sharing is caring because frankly, I do not care. So as a result I have changed my name to Chico and it seems to be catching on. Most people respect my wishes of being called Chico and in turn, I do not punch them in the face.

Now before you rush off and email about my horrible mistake I warn you, I am already aware. Yes, I do, in fact know that Chico is Spanish for boy. It simply doesn't matter. Don't suggest Chica either. I don't like Chica. If I would have wanted my new name to be Chica I would have named myself Chica, but I did not. My new name is Chico.

So now that we've established my name shall we delve into the life and times of myself (Chico)? We shall. I just recently got back from my first ever school dance. Three cheers for Chico! It was fun. I didn't dance with anyone. I didn't want to. Seriously. I'm not pretending to hide my shame and embarrassment at not being asked to dance. It doesn't matter. I didn't really want to. I was asked, once, by an obnoxious kid who I did not know, dressed as a vampire. Now I do love vampires but this kid was one of those obnoxious little kids. He must have been in sixth grade. He was three feet shorter than me, I didn't know him, AT ALL, I was trying to find someone, and he was laughing. You could tell that if I had said yes he would have just bragged about it to all of his equally annoying friends. Not my type at all and I had no real urge to dance at all. We wouldn't have even talked and by the end of that song I wouldn't have even known his name. It was a waste of my time. So I feel kind of bad about it now, but I just told him that I couldn't and that I was looking for someone (which was true). I really didn't want to hurt the kids feeling but really, he shouldn't go out of his league. It's just weird. Other than the awkward vampire the dance was great. Fun times, fun times. I just hung out with friends. We had a gay old time.