For once I might not be staring at the computer. I may be:

-writing the next great American novel

-composing my first symphony (Symphony no. 1, "Mangorama in Graceland, Under the Cover of a Key Lime Pie in the Sky")

-finding a cure for AIDS, cancer, or weird bendy toes

-dropping a watermelon or two on and sticking piccolos in the ears of bin Laden

-publishing scientific evidence that evolution exists (George W. Bush = monkey. End of discussion)

-eating a purple popsicle and listening to cello music and praying to God or Buddha or whomever to let me come back as a cellist in my next life

-practicing piccolo

-out selling or smoking crack, i haven't decided which venture i would like to pursue as of yet

You decide.

See I don't even try to be such a huge geeky loser. Just part of my natural charm I suppose.

Seriously though, everyone should listen to Jacqueline du Pre. Do you remember in the movie "Hillary and Jackie" when she's sitting alone, already stricken by MS, and she puts on the record of herself playing the Elgar Cello Concerto, and she just starts sobbing, right when the cello line crescendos and ascends to that impossibly high note as the orchestra comes in? To be blessed (or cursed) with such a gift, only to have it taken away.... I don't really know where I'm going with this, but that's a great piece. And what a great music movie. Stringed instruments are just so amazing. You just can't do some of the things they can do on a wind instrument. You'll pass out and die or fall off the stage. Things get dented. It's not pretty.

Well anyway, tomorrow my dad is going to the football game at MY school. My very own alma ma. And he's tailgating. Last year I convinced some of my flutes to stop by his tailgate party. I don't know who was laughing more, the flutes at the drunk tailgaters (I guess people assume that my family is some kind of Puritanical sect all to themselves- just because I'm a quiet geek doesn't mean my dad doesn't have about twenty pictures of himself at college, middle finger raised, posing smugly due to his master keg-tapping skills :-P), or the tailgaters at the poor kids in the band uniforms. They were taking pictures and everything. Some Canadian guy kept offering me beer. How my dad has Canadians in his office I have no idea.

Well what's the moral of that little story? My parents are cooler than me. I don't have a ticket to the game tomorrow. That is the story of my life as it stands right now. So it's Friday night, I'm sitting here being boring, and that's all I have to say about that. Adieu, mes petits enfants.

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