The word of the day is: someathis
I'm feeling a bit nostalgic and in the mood for a little change, so I started a new journal. I have several hours of schoolwork in addition to college apps and the like that need to be taken care of, but I need a little time to unwind. It's kind of a bad point in time to start this -- at the end of some things, right before other things start, and in the middle of everything -- but that's how the times always roll, I suppose.
Marching band is pretty much over. I'm a little bit disappointed, not because of scores or placement or weirdly-colored gloves, but because I don't feel particularly fulfilled after the past 10 weeks or so. I kind of expected to have a Natalie-esque epiphany concerning The Meaning Of Marching Band, but no such thing arose. Sexual Tuesdays will have to wait for jazz to start (thank you ETA job actions), and the lack of inside jokes from this season makes me a bit sad. Alas, I thought I would have had more fun with it this year.
On a lighter note, All State Orchestra is rad. I hope the concert at NJPAC will be as awesome as I think it will be. The conductor rocks, and so does the music. Saint-Saens is wonderful, and Pines of Rome can only be described as four glorious orgasms in a row. Or, you know, a tone poem.
On the bus ride to Atlantic City, Tiff and I each wrote lists of ten things that we're going to do before we die. I recommend this to everyone. It was fun, and you can really find out a lot about yourself. My list, just for kicks and giggles, reads:
1. Skydiving
2. Get married
3. Have at least 2 kids
4. Get a doctorate in music
5. Visit each of the continents
6. Scuba diving
7. Hang-gliding
8. Skinny dipping
9. Have a recording of myself sold in multiple countries
10. Learn to speak fluently in at least 2 more languages
We'll see how all of that turns out.
In addition, I love Gov School people. Wednesday was awesome.
I'm really looking forward to Thanksgiving. Much of that can be chalked up to the fact that that weekend is the point at which I'm allowed to sleep again (the end of college apps and the halfway check point of senior year), and possibly recover completely from that whole illness thing. That, and I think I'm going to die if I don't see at least two people with whom I really, really need contact.
That's about all I've got. I leave you with quotes.
Tiff: stop dancing!!!
Matt: it's Mr. Potato Head!
Grogan: we all know that the audience will be throwing babies at this point.
Entire orchestra: wtf??
PM: I don't want to have to be your mom this weekend.
Caitlin: we don't like the idea of you being our mom, either. What?
Scott: *spills can of soda on carpet*
Mimi: aren't you going to clean that up?
Caitlin: what do you think?
Mimi: *steps on chex mix*
Caitlin: (looking at 4-armed benches on boardwalk) what happens when you want to sit down, but you have a group of more than 3 people?
Mirella: where are you?
Caitlin: I'll tell you when I see a road sign. (3 minutes later) Do they have road signs in South Jersey?
Caitlin: trust me. when you get to know the person first, everything turns out really well.
Natalie: I hope you're right.
Caitlin: but if you're really that determined, you're going to need a purple thong and some faux fur.
Marching band is pretty much over. I'm a little bit disappointed, not because of scores or placement or weirdly-colored gloves, but because I don't feel particularly fulfilled after the past 10 weeks or so. I kind of expected to have a Natalie-esque epiphany concerning The Meaning Of Marching Band, but no such thing arose. Sexual Tuesdays will have to wait for jazz to start (thank you ETA job actions), and the lack of inside jokes from this season makes me a bit sad. Alas, I thought I would have had more fun with it this year.
On a lighter note, All State Orchestra is rad. I hope the concert at NJPAC will be as awesome as I think it will be. The conductor rocks, and so does the music. Saint-Saens is wonderful, and Pines of Rome can only be described as four glorious orgasms in a row. Or, you know, a tone poem.
On the bus ride to Atlantic City, Tiff and I each wrote lists of ten things that we're going to do before we die. I recommend this to everyone. It was fun, and you can really find out a lot about yourself. My list, just for kicks and giggles, reads:
1. Skydiving
2. Get married
3. Have at least 2 kids
4. Get a doctorate in music
5. Visit each of the continents
6. Scuba diving
7. Hang-gliding
8. Skinny dipping
9. Have a recording of myself sold in multiple countries
10. Learn to speak fluently in at least 2 more languages
We'll see how all of that turns out.
In addition, I love Gov School people. Wednesday was awesome.
I'm really looking forward to Thanksgiving. Much of that can be chalked up to the fact that that weekend is the point at which I'm allowed to sleep again (the end of college apps and the halfway check point of senior year), and possibly recover completely from that whole illness thing. That, and I think I'm going to die if I don't see at least two people with whom I really, really need contact.
That's about all I've got. I leave you with quotes.
Tiff: stop dancing!!!
Matt: it's Mr. Potato Head!
Grogan: we all know that the audience will be throwing babies at this point.
Entire orchestra: wtf??
PM: I don't want to have to be your mom this weekend.
Caitlin: we don't like the idea of you being our mom, either. What?
Scott: *spills can of soda on carpet*
Mimi: aren't you going to clean that up?
Caitlin: what do you think?
Mimi: *steps on chex mix*
Caitlin: (looking at 4-armed benches on boardwalk) what happens when you want to sit down, but you have a group of more than 3 people?
Mirella: where are you?
Caitlin: I'll tell you when I see a road sign. (3 minutes later) Do they have road signs in South Jersey?
Caitlin: trust me. when you get to know the person first, everything turns out really well.
Natalie: I hope you're right.
Caitlin: but if you're really that determined, you're going to need a purple thong and some faux fur.