Tonight i blog, with a little less wisdom than usual.

My wisdom has been plucked out of my mouf earlier this week. Since then, it's sucked big time. I can't open my mouth more than a quarter of an inch. If i talk too much my jaw starts hurting. I can't even stick my toothbrush all the way in my mouth to brush my tongue. My tongue has to come out of the mouth to meet the toothbrush. I have cuts and scars around my mouth that makes me look like Jack Skellington from The Nightmare Before Christmas. I might as well shave my head and start wearing a suit. And the worst part of it all is that i've been on a soup diet. For those of you who know my passion for eating, you know how deeply this is hurting me...and my tummy. I can't wait til i can gnaw on something again...chew something solid, rather than nibble with my two front teef. Or cruch down on some nachos. Have some chicken wings. Scarf down some killer peruvian food.

Stop it! I'm just teasing myself with things i can't have. I can be so cruel sometimes.

This morning in the shower, my right thumb punched my cheek. Boy did that hurt. Usually my cheek can withhold a simple blow from the thumb, but in its wounded condition, it hurt like a mother. The incident is being called a "pure accident," but really, i think my thumb had ulterior motives (I believe it was taking orders from my stomach if you ask me....).

I, for one, love soup. But really, how much soup can one person have before it starts to hate the things that one loves? And this chipmunk look? Boy, that has got to go. It's clashing with my short chops. (Hair that is, not pork...mmm....pork...)

When will the madness end?????

Argh...I hate rude people.

I went to get gas tonight after work, around the corner by my house. It was busy, so everyone was waiting in lines...kinda like those pictures you see during wartime where people are wating in lines for gas....ironic...
Anyway, I was behind this car that was finishing up, and right as i was about to pull up to the pump, this jerk in a black car pushed through from my left side! At first i thought he was just trying to get through the busy gas station to get to an exit, but he ended up cutting right in front of me. It was maddening!

Maddening i say!!!

I honked a few times, but you know my corolla, sometimes its better not to honk at all with that wimpy meep meep. So then i stopped my car, got out, and started yelling at him (ok, not yell, but questioned him loudly). I said, EXCUSE ME!! THERE IS A LINE HERE! EVERYONE IS WAITING IN LINE! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU"RE DOING? He completely ignored me. Then the guy that was waiting in line behind me got out of his car and started yelling at him too, and they ended up face to face, talking in a different language, and all of a sudden, this bigger man who i thought was going to put the jerk back in his place, completely backed off. His wife looked like she was about to lunge at the jerk too, but he turned her around and they went back into the car. I was so enraged, but after seeing the big man back off, i had all these thoughts about the jerk being part of the mob (he had a black car and was dressed all in black), so i backed off too. All i could do was sit back in my car, seething through clenched teeth, staring at the jerk. He stared back and i could see a smile in his eyes because he knew i couldn't do anythign about it. Aargh! People can be such jerks.

I wonder how i would hold up against the victory blvd mob. Not so well i'm guessing...

Ditto!

Remeber ditto sheets in elementary school? I had completely blocked those out of my brain until i heard it on the radio this past saturday. ("This American Life", 10am saturday mornings, KCRW, Check it!) I know i've talked about this show before, but i'll probably keep talking about it. It's the greatest radio program that i've had the pleasure of finding so far. I find myself waking up on saturday mornings and cruising in my car, destination: anywhere, just so i can listen to this show. Alright, ok, i don't just cruise around aimlessly in my car, i usually have some sort of errand to run. But it sure makes my errands or coffee run or trips to OC alot more engaging.

So back to ditto sheets. Um...well, i guess i don't have too much to say about it, just that i had completely forgotten about them until now. Oh yea, and first grade cement glue was the best stuff ever. Probably cause i got a mini high from loving the smell of it so much. To this day, the smell of cement glue makes me happpppppyyyyyyyyyyy!

I'm a poser.

I speak of plans to go national...or someday even global, but alas, when it comes down to it, going metropolitan is even too much for me. Schumacher has exposed me, and i feel naked.

Oh well. At least there won't be any unwanted tan lines.

Tonight i ran into this guy that i was in a musical with a couple years ago. A couple meaning one and a half...
Turns out we are working across the street from each other. It's amazing how many people end up in this city. But i guess in this field, LA is the best place to be.

In other news, there was more upstairs sex last night. I don't know whats more annoying...loud electric guitar next door in the middle of the night , or loud rhythmic banging (not a pun, more of an onomatopoeia really) from upstairs. Hm...
Tough to tell. But at least with guitar playing, i'm not hiding under my blankets fearing that the ceiling will crash down on me any second...along with a bed and two naked people. Sigh...the joys of living in a lower instead of an upper apt. If i'm crushed to death one day, you can say you read about it first, right here.

RIP S.H.W
May she live in an upper, up there.

Are doods who work at starbucks also called barristas?

Today i saw a tiny dog walking around in four tiny pink high top sneakers. Two pairs. High tops. Pink! If only my own shoes were so fashionable.

Damn that Sallie Mae!

I received a letter in the mail today, resembling a wedding invitation. I looked for the sender's name, but it was not there, only a PO Box address from Indianapolis, IN. On the front it said RSVP requested. I freaked out. Who do i know that could be getting married! Who do i know in Indiana?? Nobody. I finally got the chance to open it up, only to find that it was Sallie Mae, wanting me to sign up for loan consolidation. They even included a little rsvp card and envelope like they do with REAL wedding invitations. Boy they sure went through a lot of trouble to get me to sign up for their loan consolidation. Little do they know, its just going to go in the trash...

Little by little i'm starting to get to know "some" of the people in orchestra...all very interesting.

Lucy, the armenian beauty, is the one that i thought said she was almost 30. I think she's in her early 20s. She's ten times better than me (which is why she sits in first violin, and i in second). Talking to her tonight, i found out that she came from armenia only a year or so ago, she's on some special music program at the college, and she wants to go professional. Although, she tells me, she's practically professional level, she's been playing since the age of 5. She said it rather matter of fact-ly, i didn't find it cocky at all. I later met her father, who is also her teacher, who she claims is a great violinist. I don't doubt it. I do wonder why she's at valley college, instead of some great music school like ucla or berkeley. I guess that will be our next conversation.

Derick, one of several percussionists, is a self proclaimed "i have perfect pitch" guy. Probably in his mid to late 20s, he's the one that informed me people get paid in orchestra. He's been friendly, helpful, and welcoming, so he's cool in my book.

I feel like Julie Andrews in The Sound of Music, the scene where she just arrived at the house, and she's "god blessing" all the children by her bed in her nightgown, and forgets one of the boys, so says "god bless whats his name." Turns out to be fredrick.

My "fredrick" is the kid who first asked if i was in highschool. He's also my stand partner, and i'm glad he is. We've swapped names, but i can't remember it, and i doubt he remembers mine. "Fredrick" doesn't have an orchestra at his small highschool of 400, so he comes with his grandmother (third chair cellist) once a week, and leaves during break (around 8:45pm) because its a school night. Fredrick is a blonde sophomore, the type you would see surfing or skating at the beach, not in community orchestra. He asked if he looks young for his age...i lied and said no. But i feel that he's going to sprout any day now, so no need to point out something he probably is self conscious of. It's his 4th year with the orchestra, he's been playing the violin for 5 years. Which to me is pretty amazing, to be playing in a semi professional orchestra after a year. I have good vibes about this kid, i think he'll do pretty well.

Wes, the second second, was the first person to welcome me to orchestra. Wes is an older african american gentleman, who has been pretty friendly. He's the type of person to make it a point to remember weird names like mine, so i do the same with his.

That pretty much covers the ground i've covered thus far in orchestra. For the most part, people are cool. Sometimes they get annoying. If you've ever been in orchestra, you'd know (unless you were the annoying person...). But for those who don't know, and this is just my point of view from the experiences i've had: people in orchestra tend to be cocky. Especially violins. Boy, theres been times when i've wanted to strangle some of them. There's the upfront know-it-all type. There's the ask-the-conductor-every-little-question-you-can-think-of-so-you-can-show-off-your-musical-knowledge type. And there's the i-want-the-last-word type that'll argue with the conductor. And then theres my type: the i-don't-give-a-fuck-how-much-you-know, i-just-want-to-play-some-damn-music type. I'm sure theres people in orchestra that can care less for my type.

There you have it folks, the dynamics of orchestra.

I look too much into things. Overanalyze is what i believe they call it. In fact, i'm probably looking too much into looking too much into things. Can such a thing exist? It does with me. I can't help it. Alot goes on in this head of mine. Maybe thats why i feel the need to blog. Once in a while, this head needs to be emptied...just like that jug of water that collects under the monstrosity we call the "AC UNIT" in the edit bay. If my blogger could talk, it would say, "Not It!" like they all do when its time to empty the water. But my blog can't talk, so its job is to dump my thoughts out from time to time. Sometimes it doesn't help though...so we move on.

I have good luck with parking. I don't know what it is, but I RULE when it comes to parking. That being said, i probably just jinxed my luck by blogging about it. But those who have been with me while i drove know how it is.

Werd.