1:49 p.m. - January 03, 2002
fading
For some reason I've been unsure about what to think lately; it's a mix of new-computer-set-it-up-set-it-up and must-learn-three-pieces-on-piano-before--january-15 and i-hate-to-admit-this-but-i-am-sorely-dissatisfied-with-my-interpersonal-relationships-right-now sort of thing, I guess my mind has been sitting there doing nothing for long enough that it feels the need to jump. And, I forgot this, the thought processes that say must-keep-up-exercise-routine. (if do not want to be pathetic slob, that is.)
I want to know where I am going to school. I'm completely sick of this uncertainty shit.. I got one acceptance but I don't even know if everywhere else even has my things, because I've got an incompetent counselour who insists on sending my stuff out for me, and has already made three mistakes that I know of. It's lovely.
I've transported my CDs. I want an intriguing stranger to hop into my life right about now and sweep me off in a car, even a boring little sedan but it has to have neat bumper stickers and it can't have leather seats, as leather gives me a headache. also a CD player. Brown hair and gray eyes on the stranger would be nice...
Completely unrelated, my mother told me she saw my bitch ballroom dancing at First Night. She doesn't even remember his name. I called him my bitch a year ago, as a joke... that's how she remembers him. I miss him as well...
a poem I never posted: exercise in exaggeration, no redeeming value but better than anything that's likely to come out of my brain anytime soon:
so i reached out my hand to shake his,
when what i wanted, really wanted, was a hug.. but i had to make do
with a handshake. i found out today, he is
'more than ten years older than me'
with a slight grin, so his body shouldn't matter
not at all. but he shook my hand, smiled that wide smile, and strode halfway down the hallway in those funny glasses that make him look scholarly
a little nervous about driving those some 2500 miles
to california
without any music. 'i can't think for that long' he said.
now, turning in the hallway, looking at me. 'if you ever need a trombone piece...'
'what?'
'quartet. group. call me.'
'of course'
'i'll make you famous, if you'll make me famous...'
'deal'
'i wanna play the most unconventional..avente-gard..wild solos....' fading down the hall.

fading.

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