I...um.....well, I......ah.....
Hello. I have crawled from the depths of the freezing highland Scottish loch that I have been chained and anchored in for eternity... It was a long and painful process, involving great personal sacrifice, pain, punishment, sarcasm, and pointed, cutting remarks. In other words, I took my piano proficiency. I even think I passed. We'll see. Onto other things-
Mrs. Van decided that I would play in the studio recital this semester. I wasn't supposed to. I don't want to. I am not ready. I am currently holding at bay two emotions related to this: one: sheer panic. two: the deeply held desire to tell Mrs. Van to shove her flute up her ass sideways untill it tickles her tonsils, followed closly by Mrs. Halamicek's grand piano and Dr. Borchert's copy of the sight singing book.
I refuse to talk about the war.
Spring break was bittersweet- My truck broke down (again....). My parents and baby brother came to visit me the first weekend of the break (Suprise!!!!) and I did manage to go visit my grandparents for three days and managed to get absolutly rotten spoiled (Grandma: "Are you sure you're not hungry, dear? Do you want me to make you some breakfast? What do you want to do today?" Me: "No, I'm not hungry. I'll get my own breakfast when I drag my carcass out of bed. Please don't worry about it, I'll be fine. Today I was thinking about going to Casa Grande to the outlet stores to see if I could find a new pair of jeans." Grandma:(some time later, in Casa Grande, at the outlet mall) "I think I'll get you five." Me: "Five what?" Grandma: "Five pairs of jeans. Do you like the Gap or Old Navy?"
Me: "Grandma, I only need one. And I can buy my own." Grandma: "Nonesense. Five. (whips out American Express.) We'll stop at the gas station on the way back and I'll fill up your tank." Me: "Thank you, Grandma." (wisely shuts up) Later that day, at lunch: Papa: "Here, honey." Me(looking confused): "But...." Papa: "I want you to have it. You'll have it when we die, I'd rather see you enjoy it." (forces me to accept $100 bill. Didn't have to try too hard.) Good times, Good times.
That was the sweet part. Now the bitter part: A very old, very close friend of the family had cancer (maleoma) and it's stage 4 and untreatable. the doctors are giving him nine months to a year, probably less.
And my grandfather looks awful....it really scares me. I'm really glad I went, just because of that.
Wait untill you get to see my new toy! (not to brag, but pretty.....shiny....buttons....)
-C-
Mrs. Van decided that I would play in the studio recital this semester. I wasn't supposed to. I don't want to. I am not ready. I am currently holding at bay two emotions related to this: one: sheer panic. two: the deeply held desire to tell Mrs. Van to shove her flute up her ass sideways untill it tickles her tonsils, followed closly by Mrs. Halamicek's grand piano and Dr. Borchert's copy of the sight singing book.
I refuse to talk about the war.
Spring break was bittersweet- My truck broke down (again....). My parents and baby brother came to visit me the first weekend of the break (Suprise!!!!) and I did manage to go visit my grandparents for three days and managed to get absolutly rotten spoiled (Grandma: "Are you sure you're not hungry, dear? Do you want me to make you some breakfast? What do you want to do today?" Me: "No, I'm not hungry. I'll get my own breakfast when I drag my carcass out of bed. Please don't worry about it, I'll be fine. Today I was thinking about going to Casa Grande to the outlet stores to see if I could find a new pair of jeans." Grandma:(some time later, in Casa Grande, at the outlet mall) "I think I'll get you five." Me: "Five what?" Grandma: "Five pairs of jeans. Do you like the Gap or Old Navy?"
Me: "Grandma, I only need one. And I can buy my own." Grandma: "Nonesense. Five. (whips out American Express.) We'll stop at the gas station on the way back and I'll fill up your tank." Me: "Thank you, Grandma." (wisely shuts up) Later that day, at lunch: Papa: "Here, honey." Me(looking confused): "But...." Papa: "I want you to have it. You'll have it when we die, I'd rather see you enjoy it." (forces me to accept $100 bill. Didn't have to try too hard.) Good times, Good times.
That was the sweet part. Now the bitter part: A very old, very close friend of the family had cancer (maleoma) and it's stage 4 and untreatable. the doctors are giving him nine months to a year, probably less.
And my grandfather looks awful....it really scares me. I'm really glad I went, just because of that.
Wait untill you get to see my new toy! (not to brag, but pretty.....shiny....buttons....)
-C-