So busy ... doing absolutely nothing

Last Friday, I packed my backpack and a cardboard box full of virtuous things like my Latin textbook, my organ music, and a pair of woollen socks. I'd marked the next week's readings in my SEAL (Survey of English & American Lit) textbook, stapled and torn out the next section of Latin homework, and utterly forgotten how much work I usually do during vacations.
Would you like to guess how much of that I've worked on?
Yep. Absolutely none. To justify my actions, I'd like to explain that I've been very busy trying to win at two-suit spider solitaire, shopping for school clothes, and experimenting with the settings on the keyboard my mum's borrowed to use for this year's Messiah.
Organ practise so far this week: 0 hours.
But that's okay, because I'm only fifteen minutes behind where I should be right now. Technically speaking, I don't have to do the weekly 5 hours during Thanksgiving Break, since the quarter is ten weeks long and I only have to practise 45 hours per quarter to receive a maximum grade of A.
Right now it's rather chilly - and not dry and chilly like it is at college; no, it's extremely damp here. I have realised how fortunate I am at school: my box of cornflakes has been open to the elements for several weeks now, and they're still not stale. Here, a box of anything open to the elements goes stale in a matter of seconds, but I digress. I miss my little dorm room with the broken heater, cold lino floor, and scenic view of the interior of a pine tree. I miss seeing my friends on the way to class, practising a real organ in a really acoustically beautiful place, having to decide what I want for supper, and having a nice warm study room in which to work, but now I really digress, otherwise I'm going to start dripping saline on the keyboard.

Have a happy Thanksgiving, all you nonexistent readers.

L'chaim,

~`Cello Girl

Crazy Times

At my other home (you know, the one that isn't college), I can't help feeling like I'm known as a socially dull person. My social life consisted of school- and church-sponsored events; oftentimes, I was perfectly happy to spend Saturday nights reading or taking a bubble bath.
Then I came to college and everything changed.
First of all, it makes a huge difference to have all of my resources within walking distance (well, except Starbucks). Secondly, in a community of two thousand students and professors, there are so many diverse interests that events run rampant. Just last Thursday, I had to choose between Orchestra practise and a symposium on forgiveness. I'm forever skipping English Club events because they conflict with other events - the Guy Fawkes event was my first, in fact. And next Saturday night, I'm going to have to choose a presentation by two professional Shakespearean actors over another night of contra-dancing. (Sigh.)
Yesterday was seriously cool. I went to Sabbath School in the guys' dorm, then caught the second service at the church. Then I had lunch in the caf with some friends, and we ended up going hiking and (gasp) following a small trail that is probably not officially endorsed. After sundown, we broke out the pizzas, raspberry bars, and hot apple cider, and set up camp in the girls' dorm parlour, where we watched chick flicks until nearly one in the morning.
On a side note, this evening, I thought I'd bake some cookies for my friends, so I took my little package of refrigerated cookie dough and went to the hall kitchen, and there was my friend H, making handmade tortillas, beans, and fried plátanos. Never being one to turn down chocolate, I went ahead and baked the cookies, feeling rather simplistic for not making the dough by hand.
H and I also made a lemon-meringue pie on Friday afternoon. It varied a little from the recipe, since we used a blend of white and brown sugar and I am not the most attentive of cooks. If I'm cooking with friends, I sometimes concentrate more on talking than on cooking. On this occasion, I was in charge of the pie crust, so it ended up a wee bit overworked. Also we couldn't find a pie tin, so we used a cake pan. We ended up calling it "scrambled egg pie", although H's lemon filling turned out very well. I have half a mind to make it again, using pomegranate juice instead of lemon juice and chocolate meringue in place of regular, but we'll see what happens.
L'chaim,

~`Cello Girl

Election Day Special

Last night, for those of you currently cut off from civilisation with this blog as your one connection to the outside world, was the culmination of the Presidential Election here in the US. It was my first time voting and my first time watching the results on TV. (The closest I've gotten to that was the 2000 election, when we listened to the results on the radio until it was my bedtime.) For the 2004 election, my class held an impromptu poll for grades 1-12, recorded the results, and probably watched some of the aftermath on TV.
Now I'm in college and my peers take it more seriously because they can vote, and I admit it, that responsibility is contagious. Yes, I actually voted. I wasn't sure what registering to vote would do to my claim on Australian citisenship, but I figured that it wouldn't do any more harm than getting a driver's licence did, and anyhow, the chances of me needing Australian citisenship anytime soon for anything other than bragging rights are basically nil, so I might as well vote.
Election Night was celebrated here in grand style by the Young Democrats club, the History Club, the Social Work Club, and the College Republicans club. Not being a member of any of those clubs, I snuck into the meeting anyway, stood in a corner, and watched the results come through, because (a) I knew people at the meeting; (b) I needed to get out of my dorm room, otherwise I would be eating everything in sight; and (c) watching CNN projected onto a huge screen sure beats waiting for it to either load onto my computer or appear on YouTube in 5-minute installments. So I stayed there for almost two hours, read Shakespeare during commercial breaks, and generally had a great time.
The club I'm in is celebrating Guy Fawkes Night tonight with the History Club. It promises to be a highly entertaining time ...

Later,

~`Cello Girl

Last Sunday night was the Barn Party.



(dramatic pause)



I wanted to go as string theory, but after testing that idea on several people (all of whom wrinkled their noses and said, "String what?"), I was persuaded to ditch that idea, buy a $2 pleated wool skirt from Goodwill, don argyle kneesocks, and go as a British schoolgirl. (Many thanks to the guy who loaned me a maroon tie. I don't remember your name.)



For what it's worth, I also thought about dressing up as a Freudian slip, but as only one person in the impromptu poll actually knew what a Freudian slip was, that idea was also discarded. (Plus, it would have involved finding and wearing a false beard. No, thank you.)

Now it's the end of another week, and I've had a minor breakdown over my organ practise log, taken a Survey of English & American Lit (SEAL) midterm that was disappointingly small (I almost said, "That's it?" when the teacher handed it to me, but quickly realised that teachers dream of such opportunities), and arrived in Latin class to find chipotle soup and bread waiting for me. Oh yes, and I'm also getting sick, so I've been stuffing myself with vitamin C, drinking water like it's, well, water, and packing Kleenex into my bookbag every morning.

What I'm thankful for right now:

1. Clean water
2. Chewable vitamin C that tasted good (vitamin D tastes like you're chewing on drywall)
3. My eye infection is almost gone
4. It's Friday! Oh my word! It's Friday!
5. Odwalla C Monsters
6. The local grocery store has small packets of brownie mix for only 99 cents. (Fact: Chocolate boosts your immune system.)
7. Warm, dry dorm room
8. I've made a good start on my two Western Thought midterm papers (topics received Wednesday, papers due Monday)
9. My laundry detergent - it makes the clothes smell really nice ...
10. Cornflakes and soy milk
11. Vespers - it's such a great start to a happy, peaceful Sabbath
12. I now know how to replace a cello string.
13. Giotto behaved himself yesterday (his tuning pegs have been very loose lately)
14. We have new orchestra music that is AMAZING!!
15. I finally picked up my work keys.
16. My wonderful, happy, encouraging friends

Have a restful weekend!

~`~`Cello Girl

Musings After 1.5 Weeks of Classes

Having just concluded the first week of classes, it is my humble and unbiased opinion that Sabbath totally rocks. Say what people will about how "inconvenient" and "frustrating" it is to schedule events around a 24-hour block of time, the fact remains that when Friday night arrives, it is such a relief to sit down, take a deep breath, and praise God that you don't have to do anything for the next twenty-four hours. It isn't that you can't do some things; rather, you get to rest and concentrate on what's really important. Last Sabbath I went biking/running with my sister (she ran, I biked); then I went to church for two hours before eating lunch, heading out on a 2-hour hike in a beautiful part of the country, and listening to an organ recital. After sunset, my sister and I ate stir-fry, watched the last fifteen minutes of a football (soccer) game (our team lost), and went to a friend's house to watch the Latter-Day Saints version of Pride & Prejudice. Now it's Wednesday, and I've memorised the endings of the first declension, read fourteen books of The Odyssey, started my laundry, practised organ for 75 minutes last night, and wondered why I'm nearly out of bread. Speaking of laundry, I used Spray n' Wash on my khakis this morning, and it was the first time I'd smelled it in nearly two months and I almost cried. Anyhow. To-morrow is the busiest day of the week - four classes right in a row, plus chapel, so I don't have lunch until about 3.30. Then I have my organ lesson, coffee with my sister, orchestra, and practise with the rest of the Stringinators (an octet of freshman girls rockin' out on various string instruments). Then I read some more Homer, memorise some more Latin vocab, and praise God that the next day is Friday and I have time to prepare for Sabbath and relax.
And no, I didn't audition for A Christmas Carol. I was extremely tempted, but decided not to in the end. Maybe I'll try out for Sense & Sensibility in the spring ... we'll see.

Love, peace, & granola,

~`Cello Girl

Boethius, Sophocles, & Robert Fagles

Yes, I'm at college, and yes, it's been a blast. My roommate and I have similar habits, I just spent $271.56 on books for two classes (which is far less than I was expecting), and I recently learned that I can take Latin I this quarter after all (although I had to drop Ice Skating I). God has been so good about giving me the enthusiasm I need to step out of my comfort zone and meet several dozen new people. Of course, as in all things, choices must be made. This is the one I faced last night.

1. Attend the '80s party thrown by the Student Association, catch up with old friends, and get free pizza.

- OR -

2. Install virus protection on my computer, read an extra chapter of Isaiah, and go to bed early.

Predictably, I chose Door #3. I guess I felt like I had to make up for camp, during which I did not attend a single staff party, so I was at the party until 7.15 p.m., and then I went to bed. Wild and crazy of me, I know.

Well, I should go see what's for supper.

~`~`Cello Girl

The Dangers of Spanish Opera

I've recently delved back into my CD of Spanish music (Lalo, Rodrigo, Turino, Arriaga, de Falla, and Granados), and it is very dangerous, especially when it's raining - one more round of the Los Esclaves overture and I'll be reaching for my castanets. Fortunately, I've been busy packing for college. It's rather hard to balance between being prepared and being psychotic. I mean, how many pairs of socks should I take? Should I take both my ELS quilt and the quilt my great-grandmother made? What will my roommate think of my colour scheme? What's the point of a dorm room anyway? Can't I just string a hammock between two trees and call it good?
I can hear you raising your eyebrows, and I know what thought is foremost in your mind. It's not, "What if it rains?" Nor is it, "Where would you plug in your electric toothbrush?" It's more along these lines:
You have a colour scheme?
Good question. Of course I have a colour scheme. It's not as narrow as some people's, either. It's more of the red-yellow-blue-green-white-pink variety, with a heavy emphasis on green. If I learned anything in the laundry room - excuse me, I meant the Textiles Maintenance Facilitation Headquarters - it's that colour matters. I took down most of my decorations on the last Friday of camp, not expecting to spend much more time in there, and when I had to do some last-minute Textiles Maintaining on Sunday, it nearly drove me round the bend. The walls were white, the cupboards (sans calendar) were white, the floor (sans floormat) was the dingy grey of concrete which has probably never been mopped in its life (and was certainly never mopped properly that summer), the dryers no longer had their cheerily coloured skirts of leftover valances, and I had nowhere to sit except an upturned milk crate which completely lacked the comfortable charm of the folding camp chair I had been using all summer. Add to that the fact that I had already packed all of my reading material into the car and was faced with reading either the label on the bleach bottle ("Probable mucosal damage may contraindicate the use of gastric lavage") or a dog-eared copy of Machiavelli's The Prince, left in the cupboard by a former occupant, and you have a laundry girl with a very bad attitude indeed.Needless to say, I learned from that experience, and I plan to be comfortable at college. Yes, I'm on the noisiest floor in the dorm, but I plan to be warm, dry, and within easy reach of interesting reading material.
And maybe a little Spanish opera too.

Home again, home again

Okay, so we didn't make it to Walden Pond.
But we did make it to Concord and Lexington, Plymouth, and many of the sights in Boston. The Freedom Trail is definitely a must-see; I also recommend a Boston Ducks tour and a visit to Orchard House. Plymouth Rock was a bit of a disappointment. They're currently doing construction on the shelter covering the Rock, so you walk along the sidewalk, come to an alcove, and look down, and there's this big thing that looks like a chunk of concrete, and that's the famous Plymouth Rock. (Ho-hum, time for lunch.) All in all, though, we had a marvellous time, and I learned three helpful things:

1. Don't pack all of your books in your carry-on bag.
2. Backpacks aren't allowed in the Museum of Fine Arts.
3. Don't dis the Red Sox.

Something that's not usually in the guidebooks is Marshall Street in Boston. It has some great old buildings, including John Hancock's house, which is not a museum but at least it's been shown a little more respect than has the Old State House, which now has a subway station in its basement. (And the site of the Boston Massacre is now a traffic island. Go figure.) I highly recommend the trolley tour between Concord and Lexington; the guides are very knowledgeable about the area and its history. For example, did you know that when John Hancock fled Lexington, he packed seven trunks of clothing but left behind the trunk containing some very important documents? Paul Revere had to rescue it after the British Regulars released him. And if it weren't for Dr Samuel Prescott's courtship with Lydia Mulligan, Concord would probably never have been warned that the Regulars were coming, and the entire stockpile of weapons would have been confiscated and the planned rebellion would have gone up in a puff of smoke. Truly scary, when you see what history hinges on sometimes. Look at Gavrilo Princip and his pastrami sandwich. If he had only ordered it with mustard, or had to dig through his pockets looking for money, or taken just a little more time in the shop, he wouldn't have been on the street when the Archduke's motorcade drove by. Instead, there he was, and there it was, and World War One began.

Anyhow, it's good to be home and hard to believe that I leave for college in a little over a week.

Until next time,

~`~`Cello Girl

(девушка виолончели in Russian; 첼로 소녀 in Korean)

Warning: Really long post ahead

O.K., it's time for some long-awaited graduation photos.
There's a bit of a story behind that weekend. I was somehow elected the Vice President in Charge of Planning, so I got to arrange for the rehearsal, the organist, the flowers, the robes, and the invitations (fortunately, not for the reception). Add to that the fact that I thought it would be nifty to schedule my Senior Recital at 1 p.m. on Sunday (when Commencement was at 4.30), and you have one hectic weekend ... although, given that it meant I was done with high school, it was totally worth it. And there were only four graduates, so it could have been a lot worse.
Roll film!

Class Night (Friday, 30 May)

This is me being told that I will meet the love of my life through the Underwater Basket-Weavers' Association. Yeah, I know. Crazy juniors.
The piñata on the table behind me has a long and colourful history involving a Mexican restaurant, Cinco de Mayo, and a check split seven ways that caused all sorts of trouble among the staff when we all paid in cash and expected exact change.
We moved Class Night to Friday night because the sun went down so late that if we began after sunset on Saturday night, like we usually do, it would be about 10.30 by the time we were done.

Senior Recognition (Sabbath, 31 May)

I love potlucks! We only have them once a month in our church, but they are always soooo good. And we've never had one cause an epidemic, either!
(Unlike another church, whose most recent Christmas potluck sent 19 - yes, nineteen - people home with food poisoning.)






Our senior sweatshirts (which, as Sqweakers learned, should not be worn on Fisherman's Wharf).

Commencement (Sunday, 1 June)

No, this is not the entire high school. This is the entire high school, minus four, plus six.
I so rarely get to explain what happened to my mortarboard, so brace yourselves for a tragic tale. Basically I put in on correctly before Commencement, checked it in the mirror of the Mothers' Room bathroom, and thought that all was right with the world. Then I took it off to play Special Music because the tassel was bugging me something fierce, and when I put it back on again, the front was kind of squished and the top wasn't even, as you can see. So, yeah. That's why it's balanced at a rakish angle. I wasn't trying to make a fashion statement.


"Too much cake, not enough sleep ... does life get any better than this?!"




Actually, yes, it does. Graduation Weekend isn't over yet. There's still one more essential element of the Senior Experience ...





Well, besides Finals, which, as previously noted, our school doesn't have. (Score!) That night, we snuck into the school (abetted by the janitor, who thought it was the cat's pyjamas and kept giving us helpful hints) and - well - left our mark, shall we say. We stole the skeleton from the science classroom and put it in the basketball hoop; we chaulked messages (in 6 different languages, may I add) on the cement; we lay down on the road in front of the school and traced around ourselves in chaulk; we wound streamers and caution tape all over the front hall; we created "Wanted" posters for each senior and taped them up all over school. After I left, I heard that the boys overturned all of the furniture in the English/history classroom, while the girls rigged up the juniors' lockers so that confetti would spray everywhere. Oh, and I also spray-painted "Class of 2008" onto the back field, except that I ran out of spray paint so it actually said "Class of 200".
So here's a picture of our Senior Prank:










Yeah, kinda sad, I know. Not even one picture for the history books. Maybe it's just as well.

Best wishes,

~`Cello Girl
(a.k.a. an incoming freshman who is really, really excited to be going to college)

Umbrella, anyone?

It's been another tremendously exciting day at home, complete with a typical local August (rain, drizzle, and assorted showers). I'm rather bewildered by it, seeing as how I now go around swathed in woollen clothing, whereas just a week ago I was in a climate so warm that it was commonplace for chocolate biscuits to melt together, thus forcing one to (sigh) eat them three at a time. (C'est la vie.) Three days ago, my biggest decision in the morning was what flavour of herbal tea to make for elevenses; now I'm shopping online for a computer and wishing desperately that someone would write an Idiot's Guide to Computer Buying -- what on earth is a 3-port FireWire laptop adapter?

However, seeing as how students at my old high school began classes again last week, I might as well count myself fortunate in having another month of freedom. In just over a week, our family leaves to spend a week in the Boston-Plymouth-Concord area (Walden Pond! YESSSS!!!), and then a week later we pack up two Hondas and head for University Beta (if not all is clear, see "It's Either a Backpack or a Vacuum Cleaner"). Speaking of college, don't forget to vote in this month's poll, "Which plant(s) should I take with me to college?" Since only fish are allowed in the dorms, I told my family about the hairy fish, eight-legged fish, and hissing fish that are apparently rampant in the dorms of University Alpha. My dad said he'd get me a pet sweet onion. I haven't asked my roommate how she feels about that. (Would it shed?)

Just don't ask me how I ended up on what is reputed to be the noisiest floor in the dorm.

Keep the faith!

~`~`Cello Girl
("Vr;;p Hot;" if you use the keys immediately to the right; "D3oo9 T84o" if you use the keys diagonally above and to the left)

The Director of Textiles Maintenance

is back from camp, heartily missing all of the people there, and wondering why she didn't gain any weight on nine weeks of vegemeat and cucumbers. (Just thought I'd get an early start on the Freshman Fifteen.)
Yes, I had an AMAZING time at camp, laundry and all. I made many new friends, stepped out of my comfort zone (i.e., by tubing down the Green River), and learned so much about what it means to follow God. It was so fun to see Him working - whether by bringing disadvantaged kids to camp, getting us the props and costumes we needed for the plays, or just brightening the day of a lonely laundry girl. It did get lonely sometimes; you can't work by yourself in a small, loud, humid, concrete-floored room ten hours a day without getting lonely once in a while. But as usual, God blessed. He sent me visitors; He motivated people to write me encouraging notes; He prompted my memory on hymn lyrics; He sent me friends who took me under their wings (and brought me food). One friend, a fellow English major, said I was beginning to smell too much like clean laundry, so she signed me up for the staff trail ride that afternoon. The kitchen staff included me in their two Banana Boat rides and made me a part of their synchronised spitting routine. It was such a blessing to be in such a friendly environment. Some people call it the "mountaintop" experience, but I call it the "incubator" experience - everything seems to be going right; negative situations are quickly resolved; the world can't reach us.
However, I'm back home now, and life is speeding up again. Doctor's appointment ... visit to the dentist ... TB test ... meningococcal vaccine ... shopping - it seems like everything I have to do before heading off to college in September involves pain. (Yes, including shopping. I do not like shopping.) It's going to be hard keeping a focus on God, but then, like a friend once told me, "It's not about doing what's easy; it's about doing what's right." So keep praying, people; keep loving and forgiving and devotionaling, if that's a verb.

Me ka pumehana,

~`~`Cello Girl

P.S. - I just re-read the last post and laughed. I missed my 'cello so much and I definitely plan on taking it next year.

Last One for a While (plus haiku)

Yes, in a matter of days, I will be up to my ears in laundry, doing 28 loads a day and really, really, really hoping that I haven't mixed up people's nametags. I've mapped out a new system - instead of tracking each load with a Post-It Note on the washer, dryer, and folding bench, I'll give each person two nametags (one for lights, one for darks), which can be clipped to the magnetic clip on the appropriate washer and dryer. It's basically the same thing, except that I won't be wasting 28 Post-It Notes per day. ("Save the Earth ... it's the only planet with falafels." Thank you, Falafel of Santa Cruz.)
No, I won't be taking my 'cello with me. It'd be too hard to find a safe place to store it, and anyhow, I'd like to avoid being roped into playing for any Special Musics or song service teams.
Speaking of 'cello, THANK YOU SO MUCH to all of you who braved my Senior Recital. It was sometimes painful to hear, I know, but you toughed it out.
And before I go, here's the much-requested winning haiku:

"Heaven's azure dome soars
Warm breezes rattle stiff palm fronds
A coconut falls (ouch)."

Have a great summer, y'all! (... bad poetry notwithstanding)

L'chaim,


~'~'Cello Girl

Open your books to page 185 ...

Michael Fagan, for all of you who were wondering, is the man who broke into Buckingham Palace twice. The first time, he wandered around for a bit, looked at the portraits, sat on the throne, and drank a half-bottle of wine (which he was later asked to pay for). In 1982, he broke in again and actually managed to reach the Queen's private quarters, where he woke the Queen and sat talking to her for about ten minutes before Security finally realised that this was indeed a real emergency. I mention this only because I think that it exemplifies the Queen's dignity and calm demeanour - if I woke up to a strange man staring down at me, I highly doubt that I would converse calmly with him for ten minutes.
Anyhow, there's the history lesson for to-day.

The $250 Haiku

I just got back from that little college in the middle of nowhere that I was talking about earlier, and it's decided: short of a tsunami, a major illness, or an attack of vengeful avocados, I will be attending that little college this fall. The visit was extremely profitable. Below is a break-down of the scholarships I snagged while I was there.

$200 - from the Honours Programme, for unscrambling names of famous people;
$500 - from the Music Department, for auditioning on piano and cello (they offered me $800 to stop early, but a musician's gotta have some self-respect);
$250 - from the English Department, for the best critique of a passage about a nervewracking flight experience;
$250 - from the English Department (again), for a truly awful haiku I made up on the spot;

and finally,

$125 ($500 divided by four team members) - for being on the team that TOTALLY SWEPT TEN OTHER ACADEMIES UNDER THE CARPET in Knowledge Bowl. No, I'm not excited about it. Really. It was just a friendly little competition between brothers and sisters (which just happened to involve a split-second race to the buzzer).

Considering that I wandered around for nearly four hours with my contact lenses in the wrong eyes, I think I did quite well, but feel free to douse me in ice-cold water if you think that would help bring down the swelling in my ego.

The haiku is available on request, by the way. And my heartiest congratulations to the team who gave us a run for our money in the final round - you know who you are.

Apples & Oranges

As much as I love my small school (no finals, nonexistent cliques, teachers care about you), it really makes things difficult sometimes. A few months ago, I was doing some college research, trying to pretend that I would fit in at one of the huge universities with dances and co-ed dorms that keep sending me glossy brochures, and little barbs of reality kept prodding me: SAT Subject Tests. Class rank. CLEP exams. AP classes. And on and on and on, and I'm sitting there going, "'Choose my senior-year classes with my college goals in mind'? How can I do that when there are less than 20 people in my entire high school?" Add to that the fact that most standardised exams are held on Sabbath, and it's easy to feel trapped outside the fence while the gates to Harvard swing shut with an ominous bang.
And then I remember my ulcers (hard to forget them, but there you are), and I remember what the purpose of life is, and I remember that I don't need a degree from Yale to succeed. Who cares if I'm not in AP classes? I have a small, caring, Christian school that trains me to make good choices and cares about what I do.

Peace,

~`Cello Girl

Hello?

After nearly five months of blogging, I have been forced to accept that only one person is reading my blog. Please excuse me as I try to increase the number of Google hits associated with this blog.
WalMart, Writers Guild of America, Christina Aguilera, Iraq war, organic, free Tibet, Michael Fagan.
Thank you.
I don't expect that many people will Google Michael Fagan, since I didn't know who he was myself until just yesterday, but it's worth a try. (Truly a scary story, if you happen to read it.)
If anyone happens to have any advice about opening a small bookstore/organic cafe, please let me know. It's for an assignment in Career Ed.

All Together Now ... Awww

It's the fourteenth day of February, and I've written fourteen posts. Of course, this one will make fifteen, and I'm not fourteen, and it's not the fourteenth month, and I don't have fourteen toes; last time I checked, there were only twelve. (Months, not toes.) Although if you divide the days in February by the number of ears on two polydactyl cats, add two parsnips and hum "Rule Britannia" very slowly, you might have an idea of what I'm talking about.
Oh, never mind. Anyone out there who isn't Seven, send her a message. She can't hum "Rule Britannia" right now; she might have to settle for all twelve verses of "Billie Joe McGuffrey".

It's Either a Backpack or a Vacuum Cleaner

So I finally figured out how to switch the settings on this blog to "English - U.K.", and now my weary eyes are soothed by such options as "Customise posts" and "Colours and fonts".
In other news, I took a trip across the continent a few weeks ago, to visit that small denominational college in the middle of nowhere that I mentioned earlier. (Come to think of it, a lot of them are like that, so this one will be called University Alpha; the small denominational college in the middle of nowhere nearest my home will be University Beta.) It was seriously cool. My friend Seven and her mum came with me and my mum, and we had a great time trying to convince ourselves that it would warm up soon. The music department is AMAZING, and they have a tracker organ in the church that defies all description. The scenery was beautiful, I liked the food, people were friendly; in short, it seemed like a good fit.
But.
Their English Department leaves much to be desired.
It's also an insane distance away from home, and I have no strong yen to recover from jet lag four times a year for the next four or so years. Furthermore, I really don't want to haul all of my stuff (plus a 'cello) back and forth via aeroplane or mail service.
The bottom line: University Beta is looking better and better all the time. It's got a solid English Department and a good organ teacher, and it's only about six hours from home.
Just to keep all my fans informed (all one of you, right).

More Tales of GERD

Having finally convinced most of my class that GERD is indeed a real condition (I admit, it does sound like something I'd make up, kind of like the time I told my friend Seven that her CD player would charge up if she plugged it into her bellybutton), I skipped school on Friday to have an EGD done.

Quick pop quiz:
1. EGD stands for:
a) economic goat domestication
b) enormously gross dissection
c) esophagogastroduodenoscopy

Okay, so that was a bit obvious. Sorry, I couldn't resist.
Anyhow, I had a great time. It doesn't rank with catching a few rays at Bondi, but it's definitely not as bad as going to the dentist. There was a bit of consternation on my part when the nurse greeted me with, "Hi, you're here for a colonoscopy, right?", but apart from that, it went well. Turns out I have a couple of stress-related ulcers, but they're still small. In return, I ate a lot of instant pudding, watched The Incredibles three times within seventy-two hours, and got a top-quality (albeit very expensive) nap. All in all, a good experience. I highly recommend the hospital here in town. They are highly skilled and extremely conscientious.
Makes you wonder ... they have restaurant critics, music critics, and film critics. Who critiques the hospitals?

Yale, Finals, and Hep. B

I love my school: we don't have finals. We have tests throughout the year, of course, but two years ago there was a change in staff and when we asked one of the new teachers what we needed to study for finals, he said that he didn't give any. I just finished my end-of-quarter Bible test and if you can remember the difference between tequiyah and tariqah, let me know.
Yesterday I received my second college acceptance. (Query: Is it a common practise for a college to send out fact sheets on Hepatitis B and Meningococcal Meningitis?) Just for the fun of it, I decided to research some of the Ivy Leagues to see what it would take to get in. NEWS BREAK: In the words of Monotone, "Donneven." The application fee for Harvard is $65, Princeton requires at least three (3) SAT Subject Tests, and Yale's deadline was December 31. Yeah, I think I'll stick to my little denominational college out in the middle of nowhere.