Hey there! My name is Liesl, and yes, it is from the Sound of Music. Over the years I’ve been called anything from Leslie and Lysol, to “Hey-you-where’s-your-Nazi-boyfriend-Rolph” and “Li…sss…leiseliele?” So I’m just clarifying. In English, it’s pronounced lee-sul. Liesl. Now that we’ve got that settled, I’ll begin my introduction.
I just recently graduated from Blue Ridge High School in the tiny town of Pinetop/Lakeside, Arizona, a town on the map that could easily be mistaken for a crumb dropped from lunch. In this tiny mountain tourist hot spot, I grew from toddler to teenager, not ever once going hunting or even catching a single fish. I try to look at it, not as pathetic like many may think, but as unique and original in the fact that I don’t follow the crowd. Or it may be a result of my parents’ wise judgment to keep any and all weaponry and sharp objects from me as far away as possible. That being said, I have attended every softball tournament, volleyball camp, and vice versa that has come to town. Sometimes we’d even chase them down to the valley to make sure that my summer was as packed with action as it could be. Athletics? It runs in the genes. Outdoorsy activities? Not so much. (Note weaponry and sharp objects: above). Clumsiness also runs through the family. Thanks, Great-Grandpa Penrod.
The latest excitement to hit my hometown was before-mentioned graduation. The entire high school gymnasium was filled to the brim with locals wanting to congratulate the Class of 2009.
Graduation was a bittersweet experience. It was so exciting to finally say that I was officially out of high school and that I was able to make my own choices, but there was also a tinge of sadness that I had to move on, away from a loving family, close friends, amazing coaches, and a close-knit community that all supported me in everything I did. However, I am just as excited and thrilled for this fall as I am sad about leaving. So this draws the conclusion that I’m pretty much on an emotional roller coaster, and unsurprisingly, I forgot to buckle my seat belt.
“Life makes the best story.”