(no subject)
It's 4 o'clock, on a Thursday afternoon.
NOT ANY Thursday afternoon. Yesterday's Thursday afternoon.
It's not really 4 o'clock, it's 4:15, and this is why I'm worried. You see, my mother was supposed to pick me up 15 minutes ago, for a competition that is now in an hour, and is half an hour away...and traffic is no good. You see, it is foggy. So, you don't see.
So, I phone home. I figure that by the time I'm done phoning home, and leaving a message, she'll be there. My sister answers the phone, however, and we proceed to converse. It goes something like this:
Kate: "Hello."
Gord: "What!?"
*pause*
Kate: "It's not as bad as you might think it is."
Gord: "er...is Mom still coming to get me?"
Kate: "Yes, but...she took Dad to the hospital...so, she might be a little late, but she'll be there."
Gord: "Did anyone think of phoning me?"
Kate: "It'll be okay."
*pause*
Gord: "Okay."
*click*
For those of you that don't know...my sister is 11 years old. Otherwise this conversation might seem slightly normal.
You see, my mother had decided that she wouldn't tell me my father was in hospital for something pretty calm until after the performance, because she thought my imagination might run wild on me.
I'm a singer. Part of my job is to throw my real emotions away when I get onstage. You'd expect they'd know this by now. I do understand her concern, but I *hate* when people don't tell me things.\
So I went up and took another first place, for my Dad. I had to, he was in hospital, and he's a figgedty guy. If I didn't get a medal for him to play with, he'd get bored.
Then today!
Nerlind and I went for a run. You may be thinking "...odd", but, it has to happen every now and again. Watched a little TNG and played rubgy on the Xbox with Stu. Went out for a glorious dinner with Ashley, and then...went to...the...final..competition.
(I'm terrible at suspense, I know. It just doesn't work online, when the scrolling rate is determined by the reader.)
I sit down inside finally, thinking that these are the last two duets before Hilarie Horn and I go on...they weren't. So just when I'm ready to go up, four more pairs get ready to go. JUST to mess with my brain. w/e. Can't mess with me!
I forgot a bottle of water, I left my bag in the hall, there were family members there, there were others that left me nervous there... The only thing that saved my mental state was knowing I could trust my duet partner and accom-pianist (love that word so much I have to mess with it) would do fantastic jobs regardless. So, thank you, again, to them.
And then champagne and cheese and chocolate. Now I can go to bed, knowing that everything anyone needs to know about my thoughts is out there, left for them to consider. Mo more thinking on my part.
That's such a lie. I'm such a loser: me and my thinking.
Lateralus - Tool
"Overthinking, overanalysing, seperates the body form the mind/Withering my intuition, leaving opportunities behind..."
NOT ANY Thursday afternoon. Yesterday's Thursday afternoon.
It's not really 4 o'clock, it's 4:15, and this is why I'm worried. You see, my mother was supposed to pick me up 15 minutes ago, for a competition that is now in an hour, and is half an hour away...and traffic is no good. You see, it is foggy. So, you don't see.
So, I phone home. I figure that by the time I'm done phoning home, and leaving a message, she'll be there. My sister answers the phone, however, and we proceed to converse. It goes something like this:
Kate: "Hello."
Gord: "What!?"
*pause*
Kate: "It's not as bad as you might think it is."
Gord: "er...is Mom still coming to get me?"
Kate: "Yes, but...she took Dad to the hospital...so, she might be a little late, but she'll be there."
Gord: "Did anyone think of phoning me?"
Kate: "It'll be okay."
*pause*
Gord: "Okay."
*click*
For those of you that don't know...my sister is 11 years old. Otherwise this conversation might seem slightly normal.
You see, my mother had decided that she wouldn't tell me my father was in hospital for something pretty calm until after the performance, because she thought my imagination might run wild on me.
I'm a singer. Part of my job is to throw my real emotions away when I get onstage. You'd expect they'd know this by now. I do understand her concern, but I *hate* when people don't tell me things.\
So I went up and took another first place, for my Dad. I had to, he was in hospital, and he's a figgedty guy. If I didn't get a medal for him to play with, he'd get bored.
Then today!
Nerlind and I went for a run. You may be thinking "...odd", but, it has to happen every now and again. Watched a little TNG and played rubgy on the Xbox with Stu. Went out for a glorious dinner with Ashley, and then...went to...the...final..competition.
(I'm terrible at suspense, I know. It just doesn't work online, when the scrolling rate is determined by the reader.)
I sit down inside finally, thinking that these are the last two duets before Hilarie Horn and I go on...they weren't. So just when I'm ready to go up, four more pairs get ready to go. JUST to mess with my brain. w/e. Can't mess with me!
I forgot a bottle of water, I left my bag in the hall, there were family members there, there were others that left me nervous there... The only thing that saved my mental state was knowing I could trust my duet partner and accom-pianist (love that word so much I have to mess with it) would do fantastic jobs regardless. So, thank you, again, to them.
And then champagne and cheese and chocolate. Now I can go to bed, knowing that everything anyone needs to know about my thoughts is out there, left for them to consider. Mo more thinking on my part.
That's such a lie. I'm such a loser: me and my thinking.
Lateralus - Tool
"Overthinking, overanalysing, seperates the body form the mind/Withering my intuition, leaving opportunities behind..."