Another Day in the Life

Okay, drug testing is screwy; I’ve gotten tested twice in two weeks. So stupid… if I wasn’t doing drugs last week, what’s the chance I will be this week? Meh, I heard some kid got tested 4 times this year. And the water is disgusting. They say, “o, it’s bottled water”, but they also say “you can’t drink your own water, you gotta drink our water that tastes like crap”. And they don’t drink the water; Youngblood and the guard have bottles. Hmm… no hw allowed either; guess so ppl don’t take advantage of it and camp out in there to study. It feels like I’m going to prison or something.
Well, I played my audition today, first person in both the scale and etude room, getting it over with. Scales were mad awesome, watched as Hobie wrote down the numbers(lost a total of about 5 pts off it), but etude and sightreading were crap. Sightreading was most definitely hell; it’s looks so easy, but after you screw up the first time, you’re screwed for the rest of it, so… and I had to start the second part of my etude over again, after about 2 measures… I think I’m pretty safe though, ‘neways, it was a low-pressure audition. Which was actually kind of nice, because I know a lot of ppl are really worried about band placement next year. Haha, fools…
Pulled through on another Fin test; got an 88(which seemed to be pretty common; 4 MC missed) and all 6 bonus, raising my 6 weeks avg about 1-2 pts. Oh, and Fin told this joke, leave a comment if you get it(cuz I sure as hell don’t):
“So this was this Eskimo fishing, and he had been fishing for a couple hours without luck. Then, this Eskimo kid sits down beside him, cuts a hole in the ice, puts his bait on, drops his line, and pulls out a fish. Now, this guy has been here for awhile, so he’s all “How did you do that?”, but the kid just sits there and stares at him. So the guy goes back to fishing when he sees the kid’s line drop, then come up with another fish. He’s pretty POed now, so he says, “How in the world did you do that?” Well, the kid just kind of stares back at him again, not saying ‘nething. So the guy says, “Alright, well no way you can do that a 3rd time.” Well, the kid drops his line, and does it again. The guy is really mad now, so he throws down his line and yells, “HOW THE HECK DID YOU DO THAT?” The kid opens his mouth and says, “Keep your worms warm.””
Alright, so the kid had the worms in his mouth… how is that funny? Fin’s all “You guys think on it.” You know, I wouldn’t be half-surprised if “keep your worms warm” had some sexual connotation – Fin is so dirty… David’s voice cracked when he was giving an answer in Fin, as well. We laughed, and Mr. Fin just stood there for a second and smiled at him…
School is so ready to be over, I’m so tired of the year. Crazy, I took a nap yesterday, and I took a nap today, even though I have X amount of review stuff(Holycross is such a bli-atch)…

STORYTIME!!!!
“Well, you’ve come to the right place,” I said in my smoothest, most nonchalant voice. “Take a seat, make yourself comfortable,” I continued, propping my feet back up, stretching out my long legs, and running my hand through my hair.
“Thank you,” she responded politely, moving toward the chair, grasping it with her velvet gloves, then adjusting herself in the seat. “Well, see my husband, he-” she paused for a moment. Damn, all the good women are taken! “Well, see, my husband, he’s been involved in a lot of ‘incidents’, and I think our lives are in danger. I don’t have any real proof, but it always feels like there’s someone in the shadow, like, like-“
“Like you’re being followed?” I finished, casting my eyes up to the ceiling, pulling the pipe out of my desk and lighting it without glancing back at it. She nodded, and I imagine that she had a very concerned countenance at that moment, though I couldn’t look through her veil; not like I cared. I learned it was never worth it to get even remotely emotionally involved in a case. Until you know how padded their pocketbook is, of course.
“Could you do something about that?” She kind of looked at me funny, and I just kind of looked back. “Well, I don’t really know what I’m asking for,” she interjected, breaking the awkwardness. “I don’t even know if you can help. I just thought-“
“You know, I’ve done hundreds of cases,” I said wistfully “and I know exactly how they all begin. Just like that.” I gestured with my pipe at her, moving my eyes back to the ceiling. “I can do it. But it’s going to cost you; my usual ra-“
Just then, a series of loud pops went off behind me, breaking the serenity of the moment, shattering the window behind me and tearing the blinds. I felt a searing pain and quick air just above my shoulder. Instinctively, I immediately pulled my gun out of my hidden holster, falling to a position behind my desk. The firing abruptly stopped, and I catiously poked my head up to see where it had come from, but my assailants had fled. I was quite angry about another attack on my life, but even more perturbed that they had forced me to drop (and possibly damage) a perfectly good pipe. I sighed, reholstering my gun, vaguely satisfied that I was still alive.
“Could’ve been worse,” I commented as I turned to look at my guest.
“Aww hell…”

First time for Everything…

Well, I never thought I’d ACTUALLY make one of these, but you know how it is… I read so many, and I mean, it’s a reciprocal type thing, right? So ‘neways, we’ll see how it goes. Like most, I’ll probably post like mad for awhile until I get bored(or realize no one is ACTUALLY reading it) of it, which is when it’ll slowly die away and disappear…
So what makes a good blog? Good question… well posting often helps, but I always find it amusing to take a greater glimpse into someone’s life who you actually wouldn’t know from talking to them. Then again, ppl do do stuff that mebbe I don’t want to know…
I’m feeling more and more teenager every day. Everyone always thinks they’re special, but in reality, certain rules of behavior will always predict it. Bedtime has been getting later, hw is getting pushed off, I’m writing things like this, and the drama… OMG the drama! It’s “out of control” (“calm yourself”). When even the likes of DNev and Willie and Petri are in there, you know something is wrong. Thought that group would be immune to drama, but oh no. Someone had to make it complicated(ahem)…
‘Neways, I was getting a ride home from Connor, and he’s like, “I don’t know how I get my reputation other than that ONE thing…” Gee, Connor, how about when you only realized halfway through the ride that you couldn’t read the street signs and needed to put your glasses on? What an idiot… and he was trying to justify what he did on the bus… though he isn’t a bad driver, I’ll give him that much. Other than the glasses. And I left my music in his car, then later called him to bring it tomorrow. See if he ‘members to do that…
If you haven’t talked to SmarterChild, you should; it’s actually quite amusing. I was trying to inquire about how it interpreted syntax/semantics, but it has an interesting “security system” AKA poorly programmed responses that prevented me from learning ‘nething. Past being able to talk to a computer, I had quite a bit of fun playing the trivia games. Always interesting stuff you can learn…

STORYTIME!!!!
It was a late afternoon, one of those afternoons where you have the taste of lunch’s pastrami just sitting in your mouth, slowly growing more and more foul as it turns to gingivitis. It had been a slow day in the office, no visitors, no mail, no mystery. I always hated days like that, because you knew that somewhere something was happening that needed to be fixed. If only I had the motivation to get up and fix it instead of letting someone come to me.
I counted the number of lace crosses on my shoes as my feet sat propped up on my desk, staring straight up to the ceiling with those toes that so desperately needed clipping. I had played with my fedora for what seemed like an eternity. Every sound that passed in the hallway excited me, a possibility for a new case to be presented, yet each echoed away in silhouettes just as they came. I had counted the number of ceiling tiles 42 times when I heard the doorknob clink as it turned. Immediately at attention, I dropped my feet, pulled out my pen, and looked hard at the grocery list on my desk, slowly raising my head as my visitor came in.
She was beautiful.
Yet mysterious.
“Hello, are you Mr. Dixon Dills?” I slowly nodded my head at the anonymous figure at the door, wondering why she didn’t just read it off the door. “I’m Betty Belle, and I need your help…”