Carpal Tunnel and Bastardliness

I wish I had more time to write about nights that are more interesting.

We had a two-hour delay today. It was very foggy.

That was a kindergarten-type sentence. Oh well . . .

I need to learn how to polka. I also need to ensure that Brock shows up at more rehearsals where I need him-- and that he stops talking about running off with Tiffany "the Nazi," lol . . .

I think I really scared him with that comment about there being a Nazi dominatrix in my story (there's not, really . . . there's a Nazi semi-whore with dominating tendencies, but not really a dominatrix, lol ^_^)-- and also when I told him to go to Fanfiction.net and search for "slash."

It's so much fun to disturb people.

My whole left side feels like it is going to collapse. My foot is STILL sore and bruised from ice skating, but it's just the left side. Then I have carpal tunnel in my left hand from playing violin WAAYYY too much in the past couple of weeks. I know why; my violin teacher says I am too tense, and I KNOW I am too tense, and Mr. Hatfield was a bastard about telling me about how I was too tense all along and that I needed to relax. I told him I just don't relax. It's very true.

We had to perform our ensemble in front of the class today, but at least I didn't have to do my solo. I wouldn't have done it even if it was good, because Sarah played the same thing, and ONE of us would have had to have sounded bad.

In this case, it probably would have been me.

Awesome moment of the day: Liz's burn to Mr. Hatfield. He was PISSED. She's screwed, but, oh, that was beautiful . . .

I mean, he was a total asshole. He ruined Sarah's moment, really. He didn't compliment her, he just made her stand up there as he scolded the rest of the orchestra. That was plain nasty, and embarrassing to Sarah. I seem to recall he's done that to me before, too.

Does that man have no compassion or optimism in his body? He's bitter and sadistic and nasty.

He totally deserved that, Liz.

One of these days I'm just going to have a talk with him . . . and tell him how I used to like him, how he used to be funny and made me laugh and I actually LIKED his classes, like when he taught me in the beginning, and in his middle school classes . . . but now he has lost all my respect, which is seriously undermining his authority, and perhaps he would consider renewing that instead of acting like a bitter old man.

So then, after playing in orchestra, I drove over to work on my solo with my accompaniest. Then, I drove straight from there to YHO/ECSO rehearsal.

You know, it's no wonder I have carpal tunnel. Particularly during Marche Slave . . . I should really just cheat to save my HANDS, sheesh louish . . . I am just too tense. Roddy is going to be like that in our book (the Nazi that isn't the non-dominatrix chick, lol . . . eesh, I am putting such ideas in your heads, aren't I?) . . . he plays like me, too tense . . . and he is just too tense in general . . . kind of like me . . . only to the extreme . . .

Jessica and I ALMOST sat together. A sub stole her chair (sad day), and so she came and sat in the back with me, until this officious lady came over and moved me up. So I am sitting in front of Jessica (in what world is THAT natural?), and we're both on the outside-- which really sucks, and both of which we hate, I think.

That one girl who called me a bitch last week . . . she's a bitch. A girl called her "dear," and she goes, "Whoa, did you just call me 'dear,' honey?" in this really nasty tone of voice.

Great, more people to lose respect for . . .

Tiffany followed me home. I was thumping up "Sandstorm" by DaRude really loudly on the radio, because they played it. It was very much fun.

Tory has an awesome CD. "What It's Like," by Everlast, "Closing Time," that whacked-up "Way Go My Airplane," or whatever the heck it is that he is saying . . . that one song about the heart in the blender that reminds me of the summer Dylan came up to the lake and we played Harry Potter almost perpetually because the third book had just come out and we were all obsessed . . . ah, those happy golden days, lol . . .

I have to be going to bed now. I have an ensemble to perform at 9:50 am, and a solo at 1:28 pm. Good night, all!

Carpal Tunnel and Bastardliness

I wish I had more time to write about nights that are more interesting.

We had a two-hour delay today. It was very foggy.

That was a kindergarten-type sentence. Oh well . . .

I need to learn how to polka. I also need to ensure that Brock shows up at more rehearsals where I need him-- and that he stops talking about running off with Tiffany "the Nazi," lol . . .

I think I really scared him with that comment about there being a Nazi dominatrix in my story (there's not, really . . . there's a Nazi semi-whore with dominating tendencies, but not really a dominatrix, lol ^_^)-- and also when I told him to go to Fanfiction.net and search for "slash."

It's so much fun to disturb people.

My whole left side feels like it is going to collapse. My foot is STILL sore and bruised from ice skating, but it's just the left side. Then I have carpal tunnel in my left hand from playing violin WAAYYY too much in the past couple of weeks. I know why; my violin teacher says I am too tense, and I KNOW I am too tense, and Mr. Hatfield was a bastard about telling me about how I was too tense all along and that I needed to relax. I told him I just don't relax. It's very true.

We had to perform our ensemble in front of the class today, but at least I didn't have to do my solo. I wouldn't have done it even if it was good, because Sarah played the same thing, and ONE of us would have had to have sounded bad.

In this case, it probably would have been me.

Awesome moment of the day: Liz's burn to Mr. Hatfield. He was PISSED. She's screwed, but, oh, that was beautiful . . .

I mean, he was a total asshole. He ruined Sarah's moment, really. He didn't compliment her, he just made her stand up there as he scolded the rest of the orchestra. That was plain nasty, and embarrassing to Sarah. I seem to recall he's done that to me before, too.

Does that man have no compassion or optimism in his body? He's bitter and sadistic and nasty.

He totally deserved that, Liz.

One of these days I'm just going to have a talk with him . . . and tell him how I used to like him, how he used to be funny and made me laugh and I actually LIKED his classes, like when he taught me in the beginning, and in his middle school classes . . . but now he has lost all my respect, which is seriously undermining his authority, and perhaps he would consider renewing that instead of acting like a bitter old man.

So then, after playing in orchestra, I drove over to work on my solo with my accompaniest. Then, I drove straight from there to YHO/ECSO rehearsal.

You know, it's no wonder I have carpal tunnel. Particularly during Marche Slave . . . I should really just cheat to save my HANDS, sheesh louish . . . I am just too tense. Roddy is going to be like that in our book (the Nazi that isn't the non-dominatrix chick, lol . . . eesh, I am putting such ideas in your heads, aren't I?) . . . he plays like me, too tense . . . and he is just too tense in general . . . kind of like me . . . only to the extreme . . .

Jessica and I ALMOST sat together. A sub stole her chair (sad day), and so she came and sat in the back with me, until this officious lady came over and moved me up. So I am sitting in front of Jessica (in what world is THAT natural?), and we're both on the outside-- which really sucks, and both of which we hate, I think.

That one girl who called me a bitch last week . . . she's a bitch. A girl called her "dear," and she goes, "Whoa, did you just call me 'dear,' honey?" in this really nasty tone of voice.

Great, more people to lose respect for . . .

Tiffany followed me home. I was thumping up "Sandstorm" by DaRude really loudly on the radio, because they played it. It was very much fun.

Tory has an awesome CD. "What It's Like," by Everlast, "Closing Time," that whacked-up "Way Go My Airplane," or whatever the heck it is that he is saying . . . that one song about the heart in the blender that reminds me of the summer Dylan came up to the lake and we played Harry Potter almost perpetually because the third book had just come out and we were all obsessed . . . ah, those happy golden days, lol . . .

I have to be going to bed now. I have an ensemble to perform at 9:50 am, and a solo at 1:28 pm. Good night, all!