24

Yesterday following band practice, I caught a very quick dinner with a few guys from drumline and scuttled off to Drexel to meet up with Steve and Joel for "Philacapella." The groups were phenomenal, consisting of Temple's lines, "Broad Street Line" and "Singchronized," Swarthmore's "Mixed Company," F&M's "The Poor Richards," and both of Drexel's groups, "8 to the Bar" and "The Treblemakers." Wow.

Waiting in the lobby with Steve, I high-fived Kevin from BSL and generally made a scene of myself fan-girling the group. Rob gave Steve and me the "call me" sign, and Steve twice declared his intent to call. Dana came over and hugged me after Singchronized finished practicing, firmly securing my earlier statement to Steve that "I'm kinda a big deal with Temple a capella."

F&M's had the most professional group, but I'm biased in that they had a mash of "My Girl" and "Remix to Ignition" (kinda my jams). Broad Street Line was amazing as always, and I finally got to hear their rendition of "Semi-Charmed Life." Singchronized did a great performance of "Somebody to Love," though unfortunately, Pro Musica has set a very high bar for my opinion of that song.

I was supposed to watch The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen with Jake and his roommates, but Jeff texted me during the concert and wanted to come up and see me (mostly because GV extra sucks without its inhabitants). We talked most of the night, and he finally met my roommate. The morning was short lived, but we shared bowls of Honey Nut Cheerios fo' breakfast.

The zoo! It took a little time to figure out the trolley system, and a later negligence was almost detrimental, but I jump ahead. So, with my free museum admission, I got there a little early to scope out my hopeful future place of employment (aka look at penguins). The weather proved to be brisk but beautiful, and my time was well spent. The lecture portion changed which program I intend to apply for, so now I have to go about getting a letter of rec.

Leaving the zoo, I discovered the trolley only accepts exact change, and I am not paying $10 for a ride home. To get from the zoo to the trolley, one had to pass under this bridge where a guy was playing bongos. He talked at me a bit when I passed the first time, and when I came back rejected by trolley fare, he asked me where I was going and what I was studying. I told him I didn't know, just going, and studying everything. He called me a crazy motherfucker and laughed, but in a good way, a way I could relate and agree with. Returning after purchasing a postcard to break change, I gave him a dollar. We talked a bit. Shared our percussionist history. Talked about being musicians and artists and having a beautiful personality. He invited me over anytime. He's the curator of his own museum. We hugged.

After getting back from the zoo, I finally finished up my postcard from the Franklin Institute and wrote out the one I got at the zoo with a hippo on it. Respective recipients should expect them to arrive in their mailboxes soon, though I know one will not be at his mailbox for a while.

Carbon Updating

the antonym of a euphemism is a "dysphemism"

I got a hold of my first loaf of bread since coming to school. Between classes, I contentedly read Free to Choose and nibbled on little chunks.

Returning from programming, there appeared to be jugglers in the multi-purpose room on my floor. In my investigation, they invited me to learn, so I spent a half hour standing in a corner working on the form. I have the rhythm down, but need to work on staying in the xy plane. How lovely that such things happen at college.

My enormous marigold is verging on the point where it must leave my NPR mug and set about to being dried.

I'm out of Sharpie pens, picked up sidewalk chalk, and wrote a message to be put in a bottle. The letter describes my time at college, the boys I have loved, my family, and who I hope to be.

During floor decorating tonight, I made the most anatomically disproportionate hand turkey and the flyest top hat a turkey ever done wore.

Abrahamic Discourses

and yes I said yes I will Yes

I am the demonizing Abraham of Kierkegaard.

I Feel Unreal

I am mentally unable to put this feeling to coherent words. It's a shame that I must think so verbally, instead of trusting the sensation.

My head lapsed backwards in some unpleasant constriction of muscles. The muscles are sore. Maybe from sleeping on the floor. Maybe from headbanging in the rain. Is it a normal life I lead that these things happen? My neck is definitely not sore from work or stress or the mundane.

All of the songs I haven't listened to in so long sound like human beings with their little vocal flaws, and the instruments in the background are louder than I've ever heard them. I'd never heard the jingle bells in this song; they are so delicate. The handclaps in another sound mechanic.

Cracking knuckles is the sound of our tragic origin.

People seem to swirl about me more ideas and icons than human beings. It's so hard to stumble into a conversation. First, we must establish a conversation, then I can invite them over to talk and to make them into real human beings.

First Day of My Life is terribly sad. It is a sweet notion that another human being can inspire life and love in another, but I want to be alive even if I am alone. I will be in love with myself, and critical and frustrated and angry sometimes, but that's how I'll grow.

I want to be an idea to most people, and me to myself and a select few.
I want to be a muse, and I want to make people fall in love with the idea of me.
I think I've inspired art here.
It is presumptuous, but I suspect I am why a boy tried flyposting, and I suspect it is because I stenciled, and because Jeff inspired me to stencil.
Making art is thrilling and terrifying. The feeling is more art than the product.

I want sidewalk chalk. I will transform it wall chalk somewhere it doesn't rain.

"the miracle of faith consists in the fact that Abraham and Sarah were young enough to wish"

I cry more with each successive re-reading of Catch-22, though I only ever re-read my favorite chapters.

Boys to Men

Gab T. has adopted TJ as her new best friend, but he's still wants the scoop on her mixed signals. He's never dated anyone younger than him, not that the one year difference is extreme or anything. Similarly, I've only ever been attracted to one guy younger than me, and not many my own age. Last night was Phi Mu Alpha's Fall Sinfonia, and I was much amused. It was also distinctly noted the difference in age between the guys was physically evident. Girls, I can't tell, but guys are easier to guess.

I'd never noticed the word sign in signals.

Next Semester, I am currently registered for:
Mosaic II
Principles of Ecology
Calculus II
"Dramatic Imagination"
Nature of Crime
Collegiate Band

The first clears up my "Intellectual Heritage" General Education (GenEd) requirement. Ecology is requisite of my Biology minor (two more classes to go!). Calculus is for funsies. "Dramatic Imagination" satisfies my Art GenEd, though I'm curious to see if it will turn out as exciting as its title. With the completion of this and the first, I have completed the entirety of my GenEd requirements. Nature of Crime is part of an interest exploration as I've never had exposure to the "Criminal Justice" field. All of these classes are Monday from 9-4, with a 50 minute block for lunch, and an awkward 70 minutes between my first and second classes. Collegiate band is my only class on Tuesday, and I will be playing mallets with one of my favorite people, Matt S.. It's a good lineup.

Sweet Mates

During dinner, I confided in Tina my habit of judging my friends based on if they would be a liability if we ever got in a bar fight together. I told her that if anything ever happened, I would fight for her, but more likely, take a beating for her. It's okay, though. My strategy is the one proposed on Hey Arnold, "you wouldn't hit a crazy girl, would you?"

Surreal Life

"She had the clap so many times it amounted to applause."

Nick is currently engaged in puking in my bathroom.


Friday night saw the commencement of basketball season and my time as a saxophone player, which has infinitely more buttons than cymbals. Since Oct. 24rd, I've put in approximately 5 hours of practice, and to my delight, I played some right notes at the right times! And, to my surprise, I can kinda sight read! The only difficulty is in associating the notes with finger positions, which will come with time. As the first game of the season, they had an impressive half-time show from a world class juggler. For his final act, he juggled ~4 flaming pins and accidentally set the floor on fire. One of the songs he performed to was Explosive, so I set to good reminiscing.

Post-game, I hung out with Katy in anticipation of a "study session." While other band parties had gone under the guise of "study sessions," this one piqued my interest for being more intimate than usual on the Fb invite. Only twelve people were invited, and they seemed to all have activities of a certain persuasion in common. I believe that I was invited on the merits of my brother, but regardless, I was excited. How fantastical an evening! The sousa girl, who I particularly admired and believed "too cool for me," found that we have the same pair of crazy socks. For two hours I gave back massages, and only three people were the recipients of massage. After leaving for the evening, Katy and I stopped by 7-11 where I picked up some chocolate cake, and nearly wept for how fortunate I am to have the opportunity to wantonly get chocolate cake whenever I may please. It was a good night.

Last night, however, was even more absurd. During the day, I spent three hours working the Temple Gardens, then went to celebrate our president's birthday at a vegetarian restaurant in China town, called New Harmony. Firstly, the food was fantastic. Secondly, it was a karaoke restaurant. Our special party gathered in some basement in China town to sing "Colors of the Wind" and dance to "Funky Town" after we gave up on singing it. The karaoke "Happy Birthday" song went through >6 refrains of the chorus. Finally, we sang together "Bohemian Rhapsody," and I was so grateful for how surreal the situation was. After finishing up with dinner, I waited outside the restaurant for Nick to show up so we could head to a Temple party. He was already slightly intoxicated, so we sang through China town and talked about serial killers on the subway. The party was amazing. It was Alexis' birthday, so I made her a card. I sang and "sat danced" to every song. I met new people and further solidified friendships with others. Once again, I back massaged, and I made quite a name for myself. Hoorah!