Heh.
You Are A Realist
You are more romantic than 20% of the population.
When it comes to romance, you tend to take a realistic approach.
You believe that love takes time, and it's something you have to work hard for.
A bit cynical, over the top romance tends to get under your skin.
Your heart is difficult to win ... but it's totally worth it.
Are You Romantic or Realistic?
I woke up this morning to Glinka's Russlan and Ludmilla on the radio, played really fast. So I enjoyed that, and then I awoke for real, and there was incredibly bright sunshine on my face, with bird-shadows fluttering across my quilt. I got up and went to the balcony and watched the snow sparkle and listened to Yehoram Gaon. Really, I couldn't have picked a better morning to write some Tanner essays.
Good luck at U of M Dearborn, everyone.
Eyal, as for breakfast tomorrow, perhaps you can still try to make it? It doesn't have to be too early.
Laura, I have a swing dancing class from 3-5, so ice skating would have to be either well before that or after it. Also I need to check when the place is open on Sundays.
The spaghetti dinner was rather disappointing. Our senior year, we get shoved in an out-of-the-way corner where no one will listen, also resulting in our violist not being able to find us until the last piece. That's okay though, because I played his solos in the America and when he got there we played the Brahms at everyone.
I was in a bad mood before quartet, but sight-reading helped some, and then spending a little time with Melody cheered me up completely. I still enjoyed playing at the spagetti dinner despite our location. Afterwards, I was starving, and Paul's dad showed up and gave him some money and told us to go out to eat, so Paul and I dragged Chris to Pizza Hut. We had stuffed crust pizza with salami and breadsticks, and it was really good, but I was stupid and wolfed too much because I was so hungry, so my stomach hurt for the rest of the night. But it was a really fun dinner anyway. I was wearing my dark-pink-mauvish-sort-of sweater, and the dark gray pants with fake pockets, and mini-Tamari boots. I also wore Miss Kesler's name tag at the Spagetti Dinner, but it didn't stick well to my sweater so I gave it to Paul. After Pizza Hut, Chris went home, and Paul came over to my house and tried not to fall asleep while we looked through some old sketchbooks.
Anyway, it was a nice evening. This looks like it's going to be a good day, too.
Goodbye.