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why yes, i *do* like the sound of my own voice
lucypevensie
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September 2009
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why yes, i *do* like the sound of my own voice [userpic]
saturday (& sunday) in brief

Was awakened at 7:30 by someone (Katie?) banging on my door with no small degree of fervence. She could not find Jessica. Threw on some clothes and traipsed clear over to HP to find that Jessica had just left and was probably in the bathroom or something. I would like to point out that we did NOT pass her on the way there and thus she had probably been in the bathroom for quite some time.

Went back to bed. Woke up at 11 wondering why my alarm hadn't gone off (as it transpires, I had not set it even though I was positive I had.) Finally dragged self up, to breakfast, and to Columbia where I engaged in a bit of retail therapy (sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't - yesterday it did - but always it leaves me very, very tired.) So now am wearing Concert Black #1, velvet pants & a black v-neck sweater with some cute beading & 3/4 sleeves. Have also a black t-shirty thing that desperately needs ruched before I wear it and a skirt that desparately needs taken in before I wear it. ;P However, at <$30 for the whole thing, I can hardly complain. And it's all very comfy, which is exciting.

Also saw at JCP a really cute skirt that would go wonderfully with a really cute shirt I saw there - a sort of lacy wrunkly t. For great justice.

Bought girly dice. They are t3h w00t. I wish to stare at them all day long.

Made it back to Fayette in time to catch Theron, fam, & co. at CZ. Was fed pizza. Yumm.

Show ensued.

After a lengthy bit of postshow sitting around, finally made it to SnS with Mark, Ashley, Derek, Beckie, B's friend Dawn, Tiffany, Erin, Whitney; then along came Pete, Theron, & Crystal. Wild times ensued. Coffee was drunk. As was a shake, which I realized only upon returning from Glasgow that I was not charged for. :/ Most were well behaved most of the time.

Took Tiffany to Koois'. Did not run out of gas on way home. w00t.

This morning: arose only to be told that 3 of 10 singers weren't going to be there, and a fourth failed ever to show. Scrapped Palestrina at 9:35 in favor of something arranged & taught on the spot. Went off very well, I thought. I have many singularly uncharitable things to say about the situation, but I am keeping them to myself. Suffice to say I am peeved.

At 11:56, wrote an LJ entry. Forgot to post it. This is becoming an alarming trend.

Another show and strike ensued. It was a bit disjunct.

Derek's farewell songfest just now. They sang to Beckie. ::sniffly::

I wonder if they will spend half an hour in meeting and the next two months sniping at each other about whether they should have been allowed to do that. Somehow I doubt it. Boys can be dumb, but in some ways girls are dumber.

Have thingy at 8. Should probably go buy milk in the meantime. Want some OJ too, but it's expensive... herm.

And have once again achieved purse-balance - where the contents of my purse are pretty much a reflection of the contents of my life. Pitchpipe, festive dice, notebook, checkbook, driver's license, bulletin, program, a script (Crystal's?), calendar, drawing of Mortimer Ichabod Marker on a Bobber placemat, DCT, Advil, chopsticks, some Seussical feathers, pencils of many colors, pens of many types (including calligraphy), small scissors, 7 phials of beads. That's about all. I like it.

Comments

How coincidental. Yesterday I wrote a poem, "My Two Cents", about the contents of my purse, a reflection on my life at present. The idea came to me after two pennies fell out of it. I don't think I have "purse balance" though. I don't think I'M in balance, which is probably the whole premise behind the thing.

I used to use a shoulder bag that I bought in Scotland instead of a purse. It was much more spacious, and therefore many more items of interest accumulated there. I actually started collecting the receipts and little mementos I had thrown in there in an envelope. I realized that receipts saved from special days of your life are pretty amazing. They tell you exactly where you were, at exactly what time, what you bought or ate, and they usually remind you who you were with. I haven't really done that since my shoulder bag finally called it quits. I now have a much trendier, but sadly, much smaller purse.

Receipts

Well, that my purse is balanced doesn't mean that my life is balanced - it just means that my purse & my life are equally imbalanced, and in more or less the same ways ;)

This girl I know has a shoulderbag made of boiled wool that looks like it is actually made out of moss - it is that same color & texture. It is quite fantastic.

I'm pretty sure that somewhere I still have the receipt from the time I took Sarah out to the Wind-Up for turning pages for the opera. It was a springy day and we didn't know whether you were supposed to reserve a table because the restauraunt was so small... we were the first ones there. The man who waited tables was Pete (I think that was his name.) The whole restauraunt was a two-person operation - he served and a lady cooked - all food from local farmers' markets. And I had something delicious and a cup of asparagus soup, and she had a sandwich of some kind, and we both had fresh lemonade, and dessert: I had papaya fool, so much I could hardly finish it, and she had some berry sorbet that was the most vivid shade of purple I'd ever seen and was fantastic. We sat in the window at the green octagon table, and the President's husband came along after a while, and Doc R.

The receipt was handwritten, loopy writing in rich black ballpoint on half a plain index card:

ade 1.50
soup 1.50
[something] [x]
fool 3
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9.50


The next winter I heard in church that Pete had been killed in a fall. I suppose that was only a year ago, but it seems much longer. The Wind-Up still looks like it's open, but we haven't gone back since. Haven't really had time.