OKay then
It's been nearly years since I've last updated this thing but my friend Belinda is on it so I thought what the hay. I'm not going to Europe. It's unfeasible. Oh well. I'll get there someday. I was reading my old entries and I'm really much happier now than I was then. It was all so depressing. There was a lot of stuff on friend drama and beating Duke at basketball (HELL YA!) I had forgotten about the streaker through orchestra...I'm going to post that again 'cause its just so damn funny.
"I did go to orchestra tonight and I was bored. I primarily went for my friend Mike Herman who was conducting. He’d been talking to me about his conducting and I felt like I needed to be there to support him. He met my gaze a bunch and I smiled at him. He did a really great job…that is, until he was interrupted.
As I glanced up to gauge the tempo of the next section, I see a peculiar thing: a moving cowboy hat crowning a mop of messy black curls. A bare chest is visible and I quickly wonder at the lack of shirt. Little did I know that the violin section hid the lower half, the half that declared that this runaway cowboy was a streaker. With a hand securing the straw cowboy hat on his head, the streaker dashed into the chairs, past the conductor who was evaluating the student conductor and around the back of the room. He closed in on the cello section who had to scoot forward so as not to hit any, ahem, flying appendages. Then he scooted past the basses, tossed his hat into the crowd and disappeared out the door. All the while, every orchestra member and poor Mike are wondering who the idiot is and why, of all places, would he streak in orchestra rehearsal. Mike then glances at the massive body of musicians before him, badly masks a grin and raises his baton. “Start at G,” he announces and glances over at me with wide eyes and a red face, the sign that he is barely containing his laughter and incredulity. The best part, the conductor, the adult, was laughing as well.
Now, when Mike finished his go he sat and Jordon got up to take her place as head of the orchestra. There was a bit of a commotion as people got the hilarity out of their tired systems (it is almost Spring Break) and then Jordan began. In the middle of the piece, there is a crash. Apparently a violinist cannot keep his seat as he turns a feather light page and crashes to the ground. “I think that’s a bad omen,” Jordan jokes and the orchestra becomes even more distracted.
Again I have to ask however, what possesses one to take off all their clothes and streak...much less in orchestra! I think its retarded, however amusing. Oh well, he's the idiot."
That was the entry. OH the old UNCSO days, huh?
Anyway, I think I've realized something. At UNC I never wanted to put in the effort to go out. I hated the travel, the work, the complaining...everything. Here, when Belinda or Gerry or my brother or Alex or Megan invite me out or anyone, I get over the fact that I hate driving all the way back to school and I just do it. Why? Because when I get there I have fun. I went to a basketball game last night and I almost said 'no' 'cause I didn't want to drive back. That's retarded. Why did I used to do that? It's just a 10 minute drive with no traffic! It's funny how I'm barely over myself and my unusual ways. I've probably been out more here in one semester than I went out in two years at UNC. That's sad. Or maybe it's fate. Needless to say I am happier here despite the rich snobs and the bureaucracy. But such things as these are everywhere in different shapes and sizes.
"I did go to orchestra tonight and I was bored. I primarily went for my friend Mike Herman who was conducting. He’d been talking to me about his conducting and I felt like I needed to be there to support him. He met my gaze a bunch and I smiled at him. He did a really great job…that is, until he was interrupted.
As I glanced up to gauge the tempo of the next section, I see a peculiar thing: a moving cowboy hat crowning a mop of messy black curls. A bare chest is visible and I quickly wonder at the lack of shirt. Little did I know that the violin section hid the lower half, the half that declared that this runaway cowboy was a streaker. With a hand securing the straw cowboy hat on his head, the streaker dashed into the chairs, past the conductor who was evaluating the student conductor and around the back of the room. He closed in on the cello section who had to scoot forward so as not to hit any, ahem, flying appendages. Then he scooted past the basses, tossed his hat into the crowd and disappeared out the door. All the while, every orchestra member and poor Mike are wondering who the idiot is and why, of all places, would he streak in orchestra rehearsal. Mike then glances at the massive body of musicians before him, badly masks a grin and raises his baton. “Start at G,” he announces and glances over at me with wide eyes and a red face, the sign that he is barely containing his laughter and incredulity. The best part, the conductor, the adult, was laughing as well.
Now, when Mike finished his go he sat and Jordon got up to take her place as head of the orchestra. There was a bit of a commotion as people got the hilarity out of their tired systems (it is almost Spring Break) and then Jordan began. In the middle of the piece, there is a crash. Apparently a violinist cannot keep his seat as he turns a feather light page and crashes to the ground. “I think that’s a bad omen,” Jordan jokes and the orchestra becomes even more distracted.
Again I have to ask however, what possesses one to take off all their clothes and streak...much less in orchestra! I think its retarded, however amusing. Oh well, he's the idiot."
That was the entry. OH the old UNCSO days, huh?
Anyway, I think I've realized something. At UNC I never wanted to put in the effort to go out. I hated the travel, the work, the complaining...everything. Here, when Belinda or Gerry or my brother or Alex or Megan invite me out or anyone, I get over the fact that I hate driving all the way back to school and I just do it. Why? Because when I get there I have fun. I went to a basketball game last night and I almost said 'no' 'cause I didn't want to drive back. That's retarded. Why did I used to do that? It's just a 10 minute drive with no traffic! It's funny how I'm barely over myself and my unusual ways. I've probably been out more here in one semester than I went out in two years at UNC. That's sad. Or maybe it's fate. Needless to say I am happier here despite the rich snobs and the bureaucracy. But such things as these are everywhere in different shapes and sizes.