Singer...

I made my entire German class turn around and look at me today because I nearly did the Banshee screech. Actually, it was a loud GASP!!!

The nature of the conversation went as such:

Me: Shaun, do you have a pen? I only have a pencil and I don't like to write in pencil.

Shaun: Well, I only have this pen, and I normally only write in pencil because I'm a musician, and all musicians write in pencil.

Me: I don't.

Shaun: Like I said. All musicians write in pencil.

Me: Explosion!!! [Which was really just a very large gasp.] WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY? I hate you. Shove your splintery clarinet up your ASS! FICH DICH, du Sheissekopf!!!

The most offensive thing you can call a singer is a singer, and strip them of their musician status. I can understand that we come off as really dumb sometimes, but we have so many other thoughts in our head than measure 31 there's an accent on the and of 3 plus a diminuendo. Ok...well, how about you memorize the text in French and remember that you have to pucker your lips on "vaincouer" and make it look like you really know what you're singing. Do you speak fluent German, French, Italian, Spanish, Russian, Greek, Latin, Klingon, Tagalog, Swahili, and English?

Yeah, ok. That's what I thought. And don't be hatin' on us because we don't have to spend 6 hours in a practice room. That's your problem. Not. Mine. Thank. You!

MILF

I'll admit, I wore a relatively provocative dress today. I haven't worn it in ages. Fortunately, it still fit, too. That made me feel better about myself. I guess I haven't gotten that fat over the years. Anyway...I figured that I would catch some glances, but to my dismay, only older men seemed to notice. One man even said "Nice Legs" as I passed him. Granted, I have always caught the elders' eyes, it really should have been no surprise to me. But then I thought, do they think I'm a MILF? That's when I became disturbed. I know I look a little older than 20, but I don't look like I'm almost 30, do I? Do I look like I've had children? What is it that turns older men's heads rather than the younger ones? Junk in the trunk? Thick thighs? Child-birthing hips? It's my hair cut, isn't it? I have Posh Spice's (Mrs. Beckham) hair style these days. She's a MILF, technically...

Crap. What should I do?
PS. I love this picture of the Beckhams. They are totally sloshed, and I think there's nothing better in this shallow world than pictures of drunk celebrities. I even bought US weekly the other day because I just needed a fix. I blame Jessa for this problem of mine. She'll occasionally buy the trash mag, but she hasn't done it in a while, so I had to take matters into my own hands. Oh yeah, yesterday was Jessa's last day at Saks Fifth Ave. I never took advantage of her sweet discounts. Oh well. Even with her discounts I still probably wouldn't be able to afford those clothes. It's a thrift store life for me.

ANNOUNCEMENT!!!

Something VERY bad happened in our apartment last night. Jessa's money was stolen. STOLEN!!! And to make matters worse, whoever took the money, didn't take it all. No, they had to rip a $100 bill in TWO!!! Who does that? I pray to god that it was the jack-ass kids that one of my friends brought over, and was not indeed one of my friends. But I guess I'll never really know, because the money was not returned, even though people were offering up their own money left and right. Clearly, they were too fucked up to realize that Jessa did not want their money, but just wanted her own back, and whoever took it would just be asked to just get the fuck out of our place.

Apparently, nobody is to be trusted in this world, so I am not having people over for a while.

Hidden Agenda

Remember when I said that I was going to lose weight because I wasn't in the Spring opera this year? Like in this post. Yeah, well, that changed as of Monday.

Basically, the lead female soprano dropped out (for relatively legitimate reasons) the director bumped up a deserving senior in the ensemble, and now I am filling in for her. The show is May 4 and 6. They've been working on this for a whole month now, and I get three weeks.

This is when I regret being known as a fast learner.

On another note, I dropped $60 on designer chocolate today, because I had the cash, and felt like doing something nice for my roommates and of course the beloved honorary fourth roommate, Evan. Vosges chocolate is truly orgasmic. Do not scold me until you yourself have tried the Exotic Caramel sampler box.

I highly recommend the top row right caramels and the middle row left caramels. Each of their names is far too long and senseless, and in no way describe how DELICIOUS!!! they are. Alex can vouch for me. I would say that Jessa can too, but we don't know where she is right now. Her new employers, the people who live DIRECTLY across the street from us, have offered her the ridiculously wonderful opportunity to become a full-time nanny for their two young children. She will be making more money working for them (I'm guessing on average 5 days a week) than a second or third year teacher's salary. PLUS!!!! Family vacations with them to places like... oh, I don't know. PARIS! I'm disgustingly jealous, but at the same time, very happy for her. She really deserves this.

Just weep on the inside, Di.

This is the killing time...

What a terrible, terrible tragedy in just a never-ending string of tragedies.
But there was another tragedy that I was just informed of on Saturday by a great documentary on PBS, Jonestown: The Life and Death of Peoples Temple. Also see Wikipedia about it if you are unfamiliar with the tragedy, like I was.

Anyway, when I saw the film, I just thought, why was I never told about this? Why is it not taught in school or talked about on television more?

What scared me most about the documentary was that people of all races and ages, intelligent people, people who only wanted to make the world a better place, were manipulated and killed. I could easily have been one of those people then. Basically, I have no hope left, because no matter what, someone's always going to fuck it up. And I really believe we won't see the Chicago Olympics because the world may as well end on December 21, 2012. My choir director gave me shit for saying that because he's all about making the world better through music blah blah blah. (An ironic non-sequitur that I discovered in my research about the Jonestown Massacre: The leader to the cult Heavens Gate was a music major.)And I wish I could do that too, save the world with music, that is, but the Jonestown Massacre just ruined everything for me.

And don't you even think about giving me shit for the band Brian Jonestown Massacre. Chops, I mean YOU!

So, watch the film. Get educated. Get scared. And just pretend that everything will be ok, like I have decided to do.

Bye Matt...

Tuesday morning. Matt killed himself. Matt was 17. The exact age of my younger brother. I'm sorry Ashely. I can't fathom your loss and pain. I can only imagine the death of my own brother. Your brother is my brother, just like how the kids in the car accident were my brothers and sisters. I cried today for Matt. I sang these lyrics and burst into tears while my choir was recording the piece. "Stretched out. Stretched out underground. A boy..." Your brother. His funeral is tomorrow. Will he still wear a suit? I'm sorry. I remember your brother because you said he looked like Harry Potter. And he did. I'm sorry that's all I knew about him.

Someone asked me a question today, which is why I write about Matt.

"Is high school really that hard?"

I couldn't really answer. I kinda liked high school. I found good friends. And I thought, is that all that got me through school? I did graduate early, but I don't think my motives were because I hated school or my life. I did things like music and drama inside and outside school. I was tired of getting up so goddamn early in the morning. But I did go through some very dark hours. My friends, love 'em or hate 'em, were always there. They would at least listen to every stupid thing I ever told them. They're still that way. With out them, I would have been a very different person. I suppose I'm still here because of them. But doesn't everyone feel that way? "What would I ever do without you guys?" Does everyone find their belonging through friendship? I don't know. Without my friends and my activities, school would have been very hard. So, in a sense, I was very privileged. I had it easy, and I can't answer for any other.

As much as I would like answers from Matt, I won't try to pretend to understand him. But he's gone forever. I understand that, and that's why I cry. I hate the infinite. I cry because Ashley and family will no longer physically have Matt in their lives. Forever.

missing carl...

the georgian concert cd is in! now i just have to figure out how to put the thing online. any suggestions?
dr. p and carl
[and me in the very corner]