Call of the Road

'Twer I more musical, I'd compose a song about now. As it is, I can't maneuver around a piano or a guitar. Sort of scared of the cello, currently--yeah, Joannie, it's going to bitecha!--and my whistling is terrible. I guess I'd sing about wanting a million dollars so I can drive around all the time with the biggest iPod out there maxed out with everything from Bach to Drowning Pool.

I guess I'd comment about watching life passively. Or complain about stuff. Yeah. That's always safe.

I'm bored for the first time in a while. (Hence the monotone) I almost envy my brother for being a social creature--never was one for going out a lot.

Did you ever notice that the nozzle gun thing of the pressure washer looks like something from Star Wars? I can't wait to clean the front of the house tomorrow. If my hair were longer, I'd put it up two buns on the side of my head and wear all white. I'll make do with pigtails, I guess.

Atlas

One potential disaster after another--averted with grace today. I could have run out of gas out in the middle of nowhere. I could have gotten lost out in the Lakeland Highland Scrub on foot. Or could have brought John into a pretty hairy situation. Thankfully, none of that happened. I'm rather tired now.

abundant white sand
heat waves lolling like stove gas

feet sinking in warmth

Steel

Watching Warren play the guitar today was inspiring--and yet agonizing. He can't play all that much anymore because of Parkinson's--he shakes--but it hasn't let go of music. The heat he put into his voice, the way he rocked back and forth, and all around, thumping his foot for the beat--he broke the pick--it tore at my heart every time he missed a string or fumbled with a note. I can't begin to describe the hold his effort had on my heart, seeing him reach for his past, his dreams, his music... I watched a dying man play today.

Mom sat in the doorway, smiling and crying--a bit drunk, but harmless enough today--and Coltin made finger shadows on my lap using the sun filtering in from the window. Granny sat beside Warren on the bed with a glass of wine in her hand, peering at everything through narrowed eyes--she didn't have her glasses on--and Conan leaned against the dresser on the carpet, staring off into the sky in his eyes, probably pretending not to be there. I forgot to ask him about it.

Pit Stop

Today, I beat rugs with a tennis racket and swore at dust bunnies. Jumped around the house like a three-year-old on drugs. Watched close to three hours of Korean Drama, 'bout a guy who thinks he's falling in love with the guy--who's actually a girl--he hired to be his gay lover for three hours as they spent a lot of time working at the same coffee shop his grandmother forced on him. There are at least two other major love interests involved. And a dog.

Going out tonight with my brothers to this slushie and coffee shop--something about this amazing drink with tapioca beads in it or something.

I really missed my solitude--I basically gave it a big hug today and said--"WELCOME BACK!" It makes the time I spend with people more appreciated or something, I guess. I figure, I've got a set number of intelligent words stored in my head, and spending too much time talking out loud depletes that supply, so I need a few days alone to recharge and collect my thoughts.

That makes me a broken bean bag chair or something, I guess.

I love jumping on those things--especially the broken ones. See how those little beads fly.

Down shifting

After having an impossible amount of stuff to do in so little time over the course of about a month, I feel lost now I've got not my anxiety attacks to deal with. Today's six-hour-stent was the last leg of the insane crash cramming school work gig. 10 page lesson plan, 4 page observation study, 2 article reviews, and one 3 page long interview.

Just one acronym. ESOL.

Now I've got the whole unpacking shindig, I guess, but I'm so far from wanting anything to do with that right now.

So, Conan and I cooked dinner tonight, since we're sort of on our own this weekend. The corn and mashed potato part was pretty easy--but today, we got to work a charcoal grill for the first time. After about five false starts, we decided drenching the entire porch with lighter fluid and dropping a lit ball of newspaper from a garden rake while standing six feet away was a good idea (since the fifth try nearly singed off Conan's eyebrows). Well, we got it going, and we got the steak cooked. It wasn't too bad, if you got past the fact we could have marinated it in butane and got the same effect. I could probably fart and blow the house up. Yum.

Radiator Hose

I discovered today I'm actually kind of smart. And my procrastination habit has no shame--I waited until four hours before the final exam to do the take-home part. Thankfully, it only took me two and a half.

I made a deal with myself--I'm holding myself hostage in the library until I get at least half of my ridiculously overdue ESOL projects done. Thankfully, I prepared and brought my entire anime collection with me. Take THAT, actually-productive-and-motivated-side-of-myself. You can't defeat Yu Yu Hakusho.

Also discovered Google bought Youtube. It tried signing me into my account with my email address, and I got a little scared. I forgot my password to that account ages ago.

I'm not sure anyone knows how volatile my mind can be. I'll have to draw a picture someday.

Summer project #3--Illustrate your usual state of mind. Use crayons or pastel colors.

(Summer project number one being cello related, number two involving a lot of retina damage from looking too long at the computer screen)

Missing Hubcap

This past week taught me more than four semesters of college.

Middle schoolers don't shut up.

Old people don't care if you only had a month to prepare a ridiculously challenging program after a ridiculously difficult opera. They want their performance now and get very angry when they find out the time was changed to a matinée.

Music life after high school requires a legal marriage between yourself and your instrument.

Hitting limits is hard. Breaking them is even harder.

Upping your practice schedule is good. Suddenly doing it is bad.

Procrastination really isn't a good thing.

You should own more than one pair of flip-flops.

Don't borrow an umbrella and lose it.

I lack some very basic human capacities. I bitch a lot. Too much caffeine and I talk faster than Martha. It seems I have a touch of ADD sometimes.

My cello has a glorious wolf tone all up and down the G string--and what do you know it--the C string too.