Summer's Coming To An End...

So, this is my first post in what seems like forever. Yet, it's been less than a month. That's what summer'll do to ya'. One day may seem short, but when thrown together in a week, it seems like forever. Since school starts in a few days and I probably won't be on the ice for another month or so, I've decided to mope around and become a couch potato. I've been reintroduced to the show Lost thanks to my handy dandy Netflix membership, I now have seasons 1 - 4 on my Instant Que, just waiting to be watched. Now, after a five day visit from my cousin, Jennifer, and her three absolutely adorable kids, I clicked on the xbox 360 and I watched at least 15 episodes of the first season. I forgot how brainwashing television can be. Especially without commercials. I must admit, running around with a six year old, a nine year old, and a ten year old for a few days was a nice, long break from sitting on my butt and doing nothing.

[Top: Dana, Me, Veronica Bottom: Maggie, Riley]

I haven't seen my cousin Dylan, the ten year old, since he was about four, and Riley, the nine year old, since she was three. Maggie, the six year old, on the other hand, I had never met up until last week. When I saw her, I was flabbergasted because she looks almost exactly like I did when I was little, with a few minor differences.

Anyways, back to Lost. I. Am. Addicted. This show is so terrible and I love

it. I haven't seen anything past the first season, but I hear that it's incredibly stupid. I mean, after five seasons on a deserted island, there's only so much you can have happen without going overboard.

[No pun intended]. I still think that the first season is great.

You're still learning about the background stories of all of the characters and such. Plus, Hurley is awesome. Jorge Garcia plays the lovable teddy-bear, Hurley, and he's won three awards for it.

Props to you, Jorge. I am incredibly exhausted from doing nothing, so I now declare this post 'Fin.' Goodnight.

My New 'Crib'

That's right. After fifteen long years of sharing a room with my older sister, different older sister, I've finally got a room that I have all to myself... Kind of. When I pulled into my driveway after the longest three and a half hour car ride (ever) from Dedham, Massachusetts, all that was on my mind was "Where the hell am I going to sleep?" I saw that my not-so-faithful bed since fifth grade, a six foot loft from Ikea, had been disassembled and put in the trash, I was reluctant to spend a week on the couch in the hot, sticky, summer weather. After sitting in the air conditioning watching the boob-tube for about an hour or so, I decided to take a peek at my empty, blue-painted room, only to discover that some angel had put my old desk and a brand new bed and mattress in the emptiness of a room. I must say, it is the most comfortable bed I have ever slept in. It feels like a hotel bed, which is awesome because I love a majority of the hotel beds that I sleep in during the duration of my hockey season. Unfortunately, I had not thought to take any pictures of my room before putting all of my shit, pardon my language, into it. I took a few pictures so you can have an idea as to what my room looks like, but it's filthy. I feel like it adds a little something to the room. A little touch of moi, I think. I'm a slob. Haha. But anyways, back to my story. When I had psyched myself out to sleep in my room for the first time, I discovered that I would have a visitor. Since my sister no longer had a bed, either, she would be sleeping on my floor in the air conditioning. I was excited to have my own room, but I had to share it for one week before I could really call it mine. What was more exciting, no sarcasm this time, was that that night, my sisters and I decided to have a mini girls-night-out bonding experience type thing, and we went to see the movie Orphan. Now, after reading a couple reviews, I was not looking forward to seeing it. But I couldn't help but wonder how in the world a twelve year old girl could be so incredibly scary. Yes, that's right. Isabelle Fuhrman was born on February 25, 1997, making her two years, seven months, and three days younger than me (I think...). Although there were moments in the movie that were so incredibly terrible there was nothing else to do but laugh, there were times where I was so terrified that I wanted to get up a leave the movie theatre. That has never happened to me before while watching a movie. Not once in my entire movie-watching career. Props to you, Isabelle. I just hope you're not stuck doing horror movies for the rest of your life. {Great. Now that I'm writing about this movie at 3.18 in the morning, I'm freaking out.} Anyways, my first night sleeping in my own room turned into a big 'ol slumber party for me and my sisters. I slept comfortably in my brand new bed, while Dana had nowhere else to sleep except on my floor, and Veronica figured she'd join the party since her room is in the basement... And soundproof. I didn't blame her, and I probably wouldn't have been able to sleep that night if it wasn't for the fact that I had my two closest friends sleeping on my floor. All in all, my new room is awesome but it didn't really become my room for about a week. That's life for ya'. (:

My Blogspot Initiation

So this is my first official post. And I'm telling you in advance that it is about nothing of any importance. At all. I am incredibly bored and my bully of an older brother, whom I love dearly although he is a shmuck, stole the television from me. Yes, I could be reading the last chapter of 1984 or starting the second page of my Geometry math packet (woo!), I'd rather jump start my blog by writing about nothing. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Hokay. So. Here's ze Earth... Nah. I'm Keira. At the moment I have one follower who happens to be my awesome older sister, Veronica, who also has an awesome blog (which you can access if you click that gorgeous picture). You should check it out because if someone other than Veronica is reading this,

she's a great writer with plenty of entertaining things to say and, like myself, is very opinionated. She's also real purdy and I love her lots...

But back to what I was getting at in the first place, if you're someone other than her, my name is Keira. I love ice hockey, and yes, I am what some people may call a 'jock.' I'm always up for anything sports related unless it's baseball. Which I find pointless and could probably rant about for hours on end. I absolutely love working out because I love being in shape. I'm a proud member of the Junior Health Nuts of America Association and I am half a vegetarian. Yes, that's right, half. I'd love to be a dedicated veg-head, but my body won't allow it. It wants some stupid thing called 'protein' and I refuse to drink those nasty shakes.

In other news, I recently (if four days ago is still considered recent) returned from a long awaited tournament in Massachusetts which goes by the name of the Chowder Cup. It was no surprise that my team struggled, but that's why we choose to go to the things. What fun is hockey without a challenge, eh? I wish I was Canadian. The New Jersey Selects, my super-spectacular hockey team, is a club team with a roster that consists of five defensemen, seven forwards, and one goalie... me (who, might I add, is the youngest player on the entire team and a four year veteran)!

My team scored only two goals the entire tournament (three games), but we only lost one of those games. In all, we went 0-1-2. Scoring two goals got us nowhere, but it got my fat ass scouted by a Miss Andrea Kilbourne, former Olympian and coach of the Northwood School's women's ice hockey team. This is the longest first-blog-post of all time, so last but not least, hockey is my life. (: