Thursday, July 5, 2007

Summer Flute Choir: Leaner, Meaner, and... Cleaner (?)

Last week was the first session of the summer flute choir... I missed it, as I had a date with my old friend Missy (she's not old, but I've known her since I was, I don't know, five?), who I haven't seen in a hundred years. This is just our second summer doing it this way: totally informal, whoever can come, comes, and we meet at our teacher's house and sight-read stuff for however many of us showed up that night.

Tonight there were four of us, so (obviously) we played quartets. Patty gets to play with us, for a change, and we move around so everyone gets to play first. Patty has a ton of quartets, and there were some things in the stack none of us had played and some things we all have played (Catherine McMichael's "Gaelic Offering" is a huge favorite. I can't find an audio clip, so you'll just have to believe me)... and some things we should never play again. It's good to find out which ones are the dogs, and get rid of them!

On the way home I did something I haven't done in ages: I stopped at 7/11 and bought cigarette papers.

I know, I know, before you start thinking I'm some sort of deviant - the papers (Zig Zag, of course) are for my flute. At the last concert, I had a big problem with having water in my keys - mostly on my piccolo. I don't know if this is a result of having a big ol' gold headjoint on my middle of the pack flute (it's kind of like putting really expensive and fancy tires on a Hyundai; well, maybe my flute is comparable to a Honda, at least) or due to the weather or what, but - spitty! Especially my piccolo; those tiny trill keys are the worst. Anyway, cigarette papers are an old trick. You can buy "cleaning paper" nowadays, sold by legitimate flute dealers, but why bother? The Zig Zags were less than $2, I got a Squishee (7/11 has been taken over by Kwik-E-mart!)... the guy behind the counter asked me if I was Persian (seriously: happens EVERY SINGLE TIME).

Well, I think I promised you a summary of this weird work week, and hey: I keep my promises. Unlike sane people, I did not take Thursday or Friday off... so my week was bisected by July 4. The holiday itself was fairly quiet: we had His Truck towed to the GMC dealer, which was closed, of course, so now we're just waiting for the verdict (at this point, we know for sure we'll be spending about $600; there could be more work necessary, but they already know we're not that attached to this vehicle, so I doubt they're going to try to shyster us into spending a ton. Shyster? is that a real word?). Then we came home and vegged around the house for awhile... then we walked the 1.5 miles to the local community college, where they have fireworks. Vegged there some more, watched the 15 minute show (short, but sweet!), and walked back home, where, thank God, Puma, Dora, and Franny were all fine. Well, Franny was hiding under the couch, but nobody had any psychological meltdowns, thanks to our stupid neighbors and their home fireworks show.

Going back to work today just felt wrong. As it will again, tomorrow, I'm sure.

As for the previously promised poetry (listen up, alliteration is not poetry) - you'll have to be patient. I've got the first stanza but I think I want my friend Paul to review it for me before I post it here for the world. I'll say right off the bat, it's a piece of crap, and I know it's bad: I started it knowing it would suck, as in, big-time suck. But what the hell, if I'm going to bother to write shitty poetry, and talk about it on my blog, why not just share it with you?

The other thing going on with me, is, I was asked to do the flute thing again for the next show at City Garage... unfortunately I can't do it, which really sucks, big time. We're going out of town a bit this summer for a change, and while I'm very much glad to be getting away, it means I would miss about half the rehearsals. Which, obviously, can't happen. I have to admit, though: I LOVED that I was asked. It practically makes up for everything; the last two weeks of May and most of June, actually.

Which makes no sense to you, but whatever. Can I have some privacy, please?

(that's a total joke, as I pick and choose with great care - or not - the things I share here)

...

and, what else? Oh, god: another garage sale. My mom's hosting another one this Saturday, and this time I actually have what I think are worthwhile things to sell - cleaning the kitchen seems to have been a fairly profitable venture (well, if I can sell that shit. Anybody want a slightly used rice cooker?). So there's that to look forward to. I was kind of excited about the weather being warm, but now it seems to be cooling off in Culver City, so maybe I can't work on my farmer tan, after all. We'll see.

Oh, and I am totally in love with Devo right now. "Gut Feeling (Slap Your Mommy)" is total genius. The clip on Amazon sucks, as it's much too short and is just a bit of the (rad) intro, so you get nothing else from the rest of the song, which - I love. Listened to it all the way home.

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