Music and musicals are currently my reprieve from these busy times. I'm planning on getting some sheet music soon. Over a week ago was my birthday. To celebrate, I had lasagna and garlic bread; my favorite. I also worked straight until 11:45 PM after unwrapping my cards and presents. I got to bed progressively later after that day until Friday when I participated in a formal debate in class on why we shouldn't have Columbus Day. It was worth it, though; it went well, and I handled all the questions directed to me deftly. My partner and I were commended by our teacher, and it really put something back in me. I write now a little bit later than I really should be; I'm less coherent and more verbose when I'm tired for some reason. I'm currently listening to CD of the concept recording for "A Tale of Two Cities the musical." One of my presents was the music book for it. Jill Santoriello, the composer, must not believe basses exist in musical theatre; not even the choral pieces have a sane bass part.
Nonetheless, I am completely absorbed and infatuated with the musical. The song playing right now is "The Shadow of the Night," and it just changed in reverse order to "The Way It Ought to Be." The book by Charles Dickens is phenomenal, and so is this musical. It adheres to the plot pretty well, but the final chord in the whole musical is practically the same as the one from Les Misérables. Michael Rosen YTPs are hilarious except for the really crude and disgusting ones. Some just have hilarious titles and no funny content. I am also reading through the Legendary Skyrim Strategy Guide even though I don't even have the game yet. It was an unintentional blessing among my presents. I hardly have time for video games anymore, though. I will have time this Thanksgiving break, though. I wouldn't be up to write this if I didn't know I'd be off tomorrow. By the way, it's hump day YEEEEEAAAAAHHH!
Anyway, you are wondering when this Japanesecartoonbearindegenoustoadiaandbestcandycompanyeverminusoneletterc person is going to respond to you. People keep telling you not to work too hard over the break, and it's possible you won't. Grandmother keeps telling you to stop saying positive things and following them with negative things. You're going to audition for a recital that will take place next month this Saturday at 11 AM. You are the first audition and will sing "Bring Him Home." You won't blow it; your voice teacher will be there to accompany you, and you know the song too well. It's a lowered version of the lowered version in your book of the raised version in the American musical of the original French version. Your friend Devin will come over on Sunday at 1 PM; you haven't gotten together in a while. For once, he asked to come over; you, in your social state at this time, didn't beg him to come over this time but were already planning to ask him anyway. You're one of the most extroverted people you know, yet you don't get out much; you're too set on the purpose of fulfilling what your education system is meant for (not in a politically subjective sense; to teach you) and leading the safe life you desire for yourself because you know you worry too much to begin with.
Your friends treat you extremely well, but that's not good enough for you; you want to give more to them than they give to you but are unable due to your circumstances. You make do, as you always do, but you also swear you'll never get through as you always do. Your new pastime for riding home on the bus is to wave constantly and uniformly at other buses of students in hopes of finding a person who is amiable. You do find some, but most just flip you off. That's because they don't know you; you are an individualist, and that tends to put off people who don't know you at all. That mortal enemy of yours keeps sending your friend requests on Facebook; you don't give clemency to people who are baneful to your enjoyment of a 9-month school year.
A very popular tenor at your school who impresses you ignores you a lot. You don't necessarily like him at all; but you certainly resent his voice's popularity for deep-seated reasons. He's gay; that doesn't matter to you at all, but at your school this automatically makes anyone a laudable celebrity. This situation an interesting form of discrimination; you can't say whether this is some new form of inversion of prejudice or of institutionalized affirmative action. You're friends with many people who aren't straight, and you're cool with that; you're glad you haven't been taught to prejudice them. You just wish that "equality" worked on both side of the coin sometimes, but that's unreasonable; we must treat different people as better than us before we can recognize them as equals, apparently.
Evil double standards win your rankling rancor at the moment.
You did pretty well on a test in world studies today. No Truly Heated Argument Persuades Me Actually: Nerva, Trajan, Hadrian, Antonius Pius, Marcus Aurelius. You missed at least a fifth of the fifty multiple choice questions and did not complete your fifth open-ended response question. It's absurd to think that you would do any better; these tests are difficult. The multiple choice follow a format of "A-blah, B-blahblah, C-blarg, D-B or C, E-none of the above." It's supposed to "really test what you know and don't know. You suppose in some senses that it does but that it's more the teacher to assert the fact that he is more intelligent and knowledgeable in his field than his students. How could he think otherwise, you wonder, but you then remember his masochistic, misanthropic, and overall downtrodden attitude, and you have substantial evidence.
You don't know what you're going to do with your birthday money. You intend to spend some of the money you keep on saving in a bottle in your room for a field trip with with the drama club to New York City, but you returned home with money still burning in your pockets (and shoes). The snow front that has been sweeping the nation passes over your area, leaving everything glazed and sugared light doughnuts.
Your uncle Dave is coming over soon and staying until Sunday. You feel guilty because he got you that music book, and you forgot to send him a message of birthday wishes on his birthday, which comes shortly after yours. Supercilious wretch is what some misguided people call you. They don't have the consideration to realize you are well-meaning and that the bouts of suffering you let show at school are not vying for attention but an honest expression of your self-torment over not being able to fulfill your own unreasonable expectations for yourself. Many people would cross the Rubicon (see, you do know your ancient Roman civilization stuff) to possess the skills you possess, yet you don't ever appreciate what you do. Positively NEVER (yes, you used Caps Lock to indicate correctly that you are yelling at yourself). You just work, and everything is supposed to come to you; that doesn't happen to a great deal of people. If you ever met your mirror image, you may be nauseated by what would see at this point in time, but you would be proud of it because it is heading exactly where it means to go and has full resolve to get there.
No one your school seems to know what Metal Gear Solid is. That's a shame. Your Spanish is coming along well. Your teacher wants you to take AP, but you don't want to ruin your fondness for the language. You want to be a Brony but can't because you don't have the time; that's not new, but dA constantly reminds you. This really dwells upon the bad stuff. If you weren't up late, you probably wouldn't be thinking like this, but your thoughts probably wouldn't be so lucid, either. It's nearing 11:30; watch a YTP and go upstairs to brush your teeth and go to bed.