Been dragging my feet for far too long on getting things moved to Elle's. Figured things would be safe today, but...

... Then I dropped my violin down a flight of stairs.

Now I just don't want to fucking go anywhere. It's not easy replacing those things.

( Back in business! [public] )

Another randomized curse weekend. I think I lucked out this time. How do some of you guys deal with these? At least with regular curses, you got plenty to relate to others.

I... still need a new violin. I really gotta get on that soon.

( [filtered to Thelma||unhackable] )

I've got coffee, a good suit on, my violin, and a small job. I'm doin' pretty good, quite honestly ( Read more... )

[voice]

... Anyone else meet a fat guy in a green coat last night?

Nevermind. I'm, uh... I'm gonna get to some music. Anyone wants to hang out or listen, I'll be near the fountain. Accepting tips.

[/voice]

[action]

It's now about this time that Emille has donned her black suit and fedora, along with her violin. She's positioned herself on the edge of ( Read more... )

I know it's a curse day. I'm fully aware of it. Hi, mistletoe in my fridge and all over my walls. No, I don't like you. Go away.

I'm getting outta my apartment for a while. Anyone up for a little musical performance, I'm gonna be around the fountain with my violin. This thing handles the cold a lot better than I had thought, it seems. Might need to ( Read more... )

Guys... I kinda held this secret for the past couple of days. Curse is over for me thank fuckin' GOD, so now's as good a time as any.

I've been saving up what money I can, doing odd jobs, scrounging, stuff like that.

And I bought a violin.

I bought my own violin.

I've been kinda giving it the run-down, cleaning it up, giving it a bit of polish, but the ( Read more... )

[Begin Memory Theater]

... There's a lake out in the forest in the middle of the night, with cabins dimly lit by teenage girls, twelve to fifteen, all flipping through the usual Teen magazines, ogling every pretty little thing that winds up on the page. Emille, 8th grade, 14, stood by the camp lake with a case in her hand. She was always tomboyish, ( Read more... )