Aimless babbling.
02.07.09
E12:46
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Music o' the Entry: "Mambo de Chocobo", Final Fantasy Mix
You can thank Matt and his unholy collection of MP3's for that one. I have no clue why I dig this song so, at first glance one would definitely not associate it with me. I suppose perhaps it had something to do with my brief stints as a *cough* jazz musician? Don't worry, for the sake of humanity and all that is good in the world (I'm not sure if I could include humanity, my opinion tends to lean to the pessimist side. So how is it I'm as screaming leftish as I am? Yay contradiction.) it was a very brief stint. The first one involved me in the 9th grade, when I was in jr. high (in my district junior highs are 7-9 grades, high schools are 10-12, though that's soon to change with the imminent end of construction of the two new high schools), in which I believe I, as a euphonium player (which I've always been), participated for one concert. Which when I think about it, makes more sense to me. I've always thought of euphoniums as superior to trombones; they have quite the range, they're not difficult to hold (I have short arms), the sound is smoother...I'm sure there's some reason I'm not touching on. But anyway, my other jazzy stint was far more insidious, for I played cornet and trumpet for a portion of it. Let me explain; I rented a nice, beautiful, brand-new cornet and then was given an awful awful trumpet, which produced stuff from within the likes of which I'd never ever witnessed before, and frankly have little desire to again. In this jazz band, I sucked merrily, because I don't know how to play trumpet; by my reckoning, the mouthpiece is insanely tiny. So why'd I join? One word: Kel-chan. Yes, he's a decent trumpet-player, but I'm not. So it was kinda sad, I tried my best, but no matter what, I sucked badly. However, the thing that clinched my quitting that was this jazz band began at approximately 6:30 AM. I had to wake up at 5:00. I don't think there needs to be anymore explaining.
Just went out and got the mail, in my pajamas as usual. I wonder if my neighbors hate me, I always stumble out in a sleepy stupor to go get my newspaper and mail, I'm *that* neighbor, the unrespectable one. It doesn't help matters that Matt and I come and go from my home at all hours, so now that makes me the nasty fornicating neighbor. I mean, what else could we possibly be doing (often the truth is far more boring. If I happen to be in charge of the television at that time, it will almost certainly be the Weather Channel). Then you add in that that's about the only time of day anyone sees me; during the school year I'm either at school (which, depending on the day, can be from 6:45 AM to potentially 9 PM) or at home studying/gaming/riding bike/computing/etc; and that I haven't been in the United States for the past two summers. So basically, I'm the mysterious neighbor entity, I suppose. But anyway, the mail was crap, highlights including some hilarious Air Force recruitment thing addressed to me and a-get this-dELiA*s (I'm only copying the logo) catalogue. Why in the name of everything cheesy is this coming to home? As I'm idling thumbing through it, things don't seem to be getting any better...unless they have that Nintendo Power Players shirt at Hot Topic that I want, but thus far I see it not. And the conclusion is...yeah, basically a bunch of clothes I would never ever wear. Nice waste of postage money there, guys.
So I went shopping yesterday and came home with some good stuff. While I was intending to come home with a Japanese book of some sort and probably the cart of Super Mario All-Stars (Old-skool Mario r0x0rZ!!!!!!), things didn't quite work out that way. I DID have a decent haul though, I got a book so I can gradually transform from the illiterate monkey I am in Japanese (well, as illiterate as I am for my level) and learn the 2,000 "essential" kanji, and I was contemplating getting either a Swedish or Finnish "learning system", because I could, but decided against it because all they seemed to teach was the essential phrases and that's no good (by the way Kiyohime, are the majority of words in Finnish quite long? It almost looked like the opposite of Czech to me, tons of vowels and long words, from an English-speaking perspective), so I went at ate sukiyaki for lunch anyway. Not necessarily good sukiyaki by any standards, I was with Bak-chan yesterday and she ordered yakisoba (I knew better by now). The only difference between that and my dish was that I had rice and she had noodles. Dear crap. Oh well, it's a mall Japanese eatery, one shouldn't expect so much, so I try not to. After that, we spied that Victoria's Secret was having their semiannual sale and were also fitting people, so I am now proud to say that I actually know my bra size and purchased a nice shiny new one that actually, heaven forbid, FITS. Seriously, it's awesome.
Speaking of awesome, I recently read from both Misha and Lauren's blogs that hyde and Gackt are starring in a movie. TOGETHER. (For those of you who don't know, hyde is excessively pretty vocalist for L'Arc~en~Ciel and Gackt is...well, Gackt, one of Malice Mizer's former vocalists, but he's been doing successfully as a solo artist for several years) It's supposedly due out Spring 2003. Now, if only they tossed in Sugizo...still, it's going to be a biseinen-fest for the ages, especially with my irrepressible Asian boy fetish. Perhaps I'll have to sacrifice living on my own for going to Japan? Yes, I suck. Or not. Responsibility is always a fun thing to come and kick me in the teeth, and I suppose it's not being terribly responsible to go back...yarg. Reality and I haven't a terribly pleasant relationship.
Bak-chan and I went out to dinner the other night at Red Robin. I haven't eaten there so much, mostly because their prices are relatively outrageous, by my standards. So we went there and I ordered what was called a BLTA, a turkey sandwich on a croissant with avocado slices. And so I have learned that avocados on sandwiches are GOOD. And so is mayonnaise. Luckily for me, this sandwich doesn't look painfully difficult to replicate, so when I journey off to the grocery store to purchase milk and bread and all that stuff my family eats that I don't, avocados and the other ingredients will surely follow. But last night on the phone Matt and I were wondering: Is there any use for the avocado, other than for guacomole? Perhaps it should be renamed the "guacomole fruit". Which reminds me of how I was obsessed with carambola, or starfruit when I was in 2nd grade, I believe. I'm not sure why, I'm guessing it was the shape because while they don't taste bad, they have a strange flavour and a tendency to get little seedy things stuck in one's teeth.
But I digress, because now I have to go to the post office and run some more errands. Thusly, more at a later date. Ja!
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