My Finals Week

In light of the...odd week I've had, I thought I would give a list of all the strange occurrences I've had this week. Enjoy!

1. Talked about knitting a cat.
2. Talked about knitting people.
3. Got tickled by a 7 foot tall classmate while trying to eat a taco.
4. Got into a staring contest with a teacher while taking a final.
5. Got licked by another male.
6. Almost choked to death on a Dorito.
7. Watched a redneck contest. (Who's truck can do the most donuts?!)
8. Stole a chair from my Chemistry teacher.
9. Found out my Chemistry teacher is an etch-a-sketch wizard.
10. Ate a Cheeto off the floor. (I was hungry)
11. Watched a classmate break dance in an Obama mask. (He was pretty good)
12. Laughed about large mouth bass being patriotic for 10 minutes.

Finals week is always interesting, that's for sure. But who knew my week could be so weird?! Then again, I am Nick Solheim, and crazy things are attracted to me! (Including people, meaning you.)

Honduras Isn't in Africa

This post comes from a very common request. Where is Honduras, you may ask? It is a question many, many have asked me before. Just so you may know, it is here:

 

It is in Central America, south of Mexico and north of Panama, as I always say. 

 

The most frequent answer I get when I ask people where they think Honduras is is Africa. Let's clarify this now: Honduras was never in Africa, Honduras isn't in Africa, and unless there's a really strange earthquake, will never be in Africa! There's your geography lesson for the day, now you're a little bit smarter!

Baby Bertha the Baritone

When I first moved to Burnsville, I was ecstatic to be playing my trumpet in band again. There's just something about the trumpet always being the main focus in music that just draws my attention. (Though I have no clue why!) But things changed a lot when I started marching band for my third season. My eccentric and flannel-loving band teacher Mr. French (No, he doesn't teach French) asked me to play the baritone. Yes, I said "the what?" like you just did. Just so I can continue, I will tell you that a baritone is like a baby tuba. In fact, my baritone earned the nickname of Baby Bertha. But again, I must stay on topic! When marching band was over, I continued to play it in symphonic band. I soon learned that the baritone is not always the center of attention, so it's not going to work out. Yes, I must sadly say goodbye to Baby Bertha, as only my trumpet will be making the journey to Honduras. Even though this severly limits my polka playing oppurtunities, I am excited to be the center of attention again! Now I just need a witty name for my trumpet...

Come What May

One would think that with only 40+ days left in the United States before I leave, I would feel like my life was ending. With high school, extracurricular activities, and all my friends, I've led a privileged life here in these great American states. But instead of my life ending, it is more accurately a beginning. A beginning of something much more than myself. A beginning of dedicating my next 18 months to the teaching of Christ. On the days when I'm despairing over everything I am going to miss, I remind myself of the hope that is being brought to Honduras. A hope that could make it into a great nation, one that follows the teachings of God and shines the light leading others to Him. These next 18 months will be a whirlwind; but as long as He is in it, come what may.