*applause*
I think Paul Simon was gonna say something profound but the audience cut it off. It sounds better that way anyway. Sort of a universal hope, I guess... except for some people. But they're just... morbid.
So obviously, I'm back. Actually I've been back for a week now. This time last Saturday I was at the beach with Jon, Kate, and Tony, skipping rocks. Ohhh well. This week hasn't been too eventful and I haven't been up to writing, cause I've been sick with some nasty thing... at least I'm not feverish anymore. Now my throat just hurts. I wish it didn't make me sound so not-funny. There's the funny kind of sick voice, and the annoying not-funny sick voice. The latter just makes you croaky. I've always enjoyed the former, though, because your voice sounds like normal except when you go higher and it squeaks. It sounds ridiculous but it always makes me laugh.
Wow, the clouds are moving really fast. Kate and Jon are at the beach now, taking photos... well, she's taking the photos. Jon's dressed as a french mime without the mime makeup because Kate couldn't figure out how to make it. He looks funny, but don't tell him I said that...
Speaking of Jon, he's leaving tomorrow. That makes me ridiculously sad. I've gotten so used to having him back... it's gonna feel weird all over again. Like I had JUST gotten used to him being gone. And now... bah.
I've been listening to Simon and Garfunkel today. Garfunkel is a funny name. It reminds me of Garfield, and funnel cake. Which works, because Garfield probably ate funnel cake. I wonder how that scale of his always talked. Scales don't talk. I guess neither do cats. I'd hate my cat if she talked. She would be so annoying - always bitching about her food, and about how Dad stepped on her or something... and at night! Oh at night she'd turn into Jack Nicholson, and I'd be really freaked out. She'd sit in the dark repeating "red drum" over and over. And we'd have to have her exorcised.
My. The exorcism of a cat. THAT would be frightening.
Today I was up in my room tapping with my tap shoes, the Dorothy's. I got them at Payless for $22, where the other tappers said they were dumb and cheap. But you know what, I don't want to spend $50 on shoes. I like the Dorothy's, in a way. I guess I like them because they're mine, bought with my money. I suppose I'm entitled to like them, after that, even if they are cheap.
I wish I didn't have this awful cough. You know I haven't had coffee since last Sunday? Maybe that's why I'm still sick. Maybe it's some terrible cycle of viciousness.
I drew a picture of Marlon Brando last night and this morning. I'm psyched, because it actually looks like him and I love him so much... and a few weeks ago I was obsessed with drawing him, only I couldn't get his face right. This one's not PERFECT, but you can definitely tell it's him. Plus the shading is lovely. I did break one of my expensive new pencils on it though, which made me mad.
I want to have Laura and Amelia over for Valentines Day. We could have a marathon of Pride and Prejudice. The ultimate single girls night. That makes me happy. Last year Amelia and I did that - we watched an Affair to Remember and had pizza and chocolates... that was great. The year before that.... oh that was a sad affair. The year before that I was home alone, and I made myself dinner and ate by candle light, listening to Frank Sinatra's "My Way" on repeat. It was possibly the saddest experience of my life.
I've since realized that candles are meant for making people depressed. The blasted things.
I remember when I was really into nostalgia.
*You may laugh*
No, but today I was playing the piano and thinking. I hate mornings. But when I was little, now this is what I remember - when I was little, Dad always slept until like 10. Us four kids would go into his room when we wanted him up, and climb onto his bed, and get under the covers with him. We played "Cave", where he'd pull the covers over our heads and we'd pretend we were in a cave. Now, I don't know what the purpose of this game was... but we enjoyed it anyway. I was thinking about that today... I used to like mornings because of that.
And it made me realize, sometimes I want a cave. The affair never made me think much at the time, but now that I think of it, it was a symbol of how much we were loved and sheltered. And now I think, it'd be nice to have a cave like that now. People never really get too old for caves, do they? I guess we all have our own, cause we all need them. Everybody does.
Anywho. Now I'm depressed. I blame Simon and Garfunkel. They started all this...
Ooh, but I wrote a new short story yesterday and you should read it. It's in the short story section of this blog (no kidding). I want to watch "My fair lady". I always write too much on these. But I just like to ramble. It's a hobby, I suppose.
OH, stupid, I forgot to say, I didn't break at the tournament. But I did well. I got the ballots back the other night. I got one first place, one second, one third, and three fifth's. I like to concentrate on the first, though :) I got some nice comments, and some mean ones, of course... but. Even from the one judge I really didn't like, I was told that I should be a writer. (I did a speech I wrote, if you didn't know.) That kind of made me happy, to hear from an outside source, I mean.
The second day I did the speech, I had a PACKED room full of people I know (there were only about 5 others, aside from the judges) and they were a great audience. It was fantastic, to have that much support... I've never felt quite so overwhelmed with that as I did when I walked to the front of that room.
And now that I've officially rambled for.... a long time, so long. Go find a cave and camp out for a while... it'll do you good. I may just do the same.
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