in which i provide you with another fun link to peruse, and some other stuff

God Forbid!!

Actually, I would love to have such a good and on-the-same-page relationship with my parents that I could allow them to freely read and comment on a webpage of mine. But it just isn't meant to be at this stage in life. Although my mom is not as ditzy as the one described in the article, she would comment on every little thing and probably disapprove of little things I said or thought. Hopefully she would also refrain from referencing me to all my relatives. *Sigh*Let's not get into the dad politics right now. I had a long day ("for once!", you all scream in relief) and this is what it looked like:

8:00 AM PST Sectional coaching at Hidden Valley Middle School. One tuba, one treble clef baritone (my least favorite of the valved brass variety! for lazy converted trumpet players), and one trombonist. Plays too quietly, is pretty impressive actually, and doesn't know notes, respectively. Sectional goes okay although I hate working on Christmas medleys (is that how you spell the plural of medley?) and wish I could take young trombonist aside and teach to play properly. The happiest part is that I got a check! Hurray for that $70 dollars! That's half of my trip to Madison right there. Well, not half, maybe not even a third, but I like to think positively.

12:20 PM PST The time I was supposed to arrive at Ramona High School for sectional coaching. Such event did not occur as traffic cops at Poway Rd and Espola directed me back INTO Poway instead of happily on my way up the Poway grade to 67 which would transport me efficiently and dutifully into Ramona in half an hour's time. Lorn hauls ass up to 78 only to realize that 78E is ANNOYING AS FUCK and traipses blithely all about Escondido before getting down to its real business of directing people into Ramona. I had also lacked the presence of mind to recall that 78 is easily reached via San Pasqual Valley Road, thereby avoiding all the Escondido sightsee-ery.

1:30 PM PST The time I actually arrive at RHS, home of the Bulldogs. There was much confusion in actually finding the school, as I was led astray by a decoy stadium and directions that pertained only to my having arrived on the 67 as planned. Anyway, I missed the first period of low brass (don't worry, more on them later) but arrived just in time to coach a worthy young man by the name of Dave and his contra. I was jubilant to discover that he had "young blood brass" scribbled on his marching band music, and happy to offer him assistance in getting hold of their music as he expressed difficulty in doing so. Dave and I explore the many facets of brass playing and he proves to be an exceptional kid and a decent player. Daniel James, the director, asks me to stay and coach an after school sectional with the three players I missed while touring the neighborhoods of urban Ramona. (A side note: both Daniel and Jeff, the HVMS director, are very cute in that late twentysomething band director kind of way. I likey) So I agree, and I am subjected to an hour and a half of frustration with the Three Stooges. Freshman, in other words. Freshman boys. Let's not get into the details, for I am afraid reliving the experience would cause me a few gray hairs.

4:00 PM PST I am released from my torture and free to return to RB where I can relax in peace. Somewhat. My way home (properly, on 67) turns into a tour of the mast extent of the fire damage. Entire hillsides are blackened and I can see the places where houses used to be. It is very humbling. I am grateful that we were spared and I hope that the rebuilding process is not too draining for the victims. At home as usual the TV is on loudly (are my parents going deaf? i think so) and I just want to crawl into my room and subsequently into a book. Which I do. Until I realize that the food items I have at my disposal are unappetizing at this point in time and my parents provide little else to nuture a vegetarian. They are, for example, having hamburgers for dinner. So...

7:00 PM PST I head off to China Fun and purchase veggie lo mein. Yummers. I eat and then go to Borders which has become my favored escape from the sounds of TV. Plus, I get chai and I get to look at books and music. I like Borders and I don't care if I'm selling out. They do an okay job for a corporation. Anyway, at Borders I start making a mental list of...

Things I want for AKGPT Day*
Books:
Manifesta, Richards and Baumgardner
Fast Food Nation, Eric Schl....please forgive me I'm too lazy to look up last names
Nickled and Dimed, Barbara Erleinbach?--ditto to above
Pink Think, Lynn Peril
Stupid White Men, Michael Moore
Skipping Toward Gomorrah, Dan Savage (thanks to Adam for reminding me)

Movies:
The Hours
Bend it like Beckham

Music:
Ani Difranco--it occurred to me the other day that although I am a big fan, my ani listening was always Jerry-sponsored, and thus I have none of her cds except Evolve
Brahms German Requiem
Shostakovich and Bartok string quartets
Prokofiev anything (although I have lots already-you can't get enough of good old Proky!)
Mahler (my collection is severely lacking in Mahler goodness!)
Bend it Like Beckham soundtrack

*sigh* I would buy all of these things had I the money. I would check out the books from the library if they had them, which they might, but I haven't looked yet. But-both of my parents have birthdays soon and I also completely neglected their anniversary last month.

Oh yeah-*Atheist Kids Get Presents Too. I didn't make that up. I read it somewhere and now I can't remember where. I think it's hilarious. For those of us who've lost the Christmas spirit but still want the goodies.

post spellcheck note: how is Prokofiev in the blogger dictionary but Shostakovich is not? I find that a little weird. Not that Shostakovich isn't in the spellchecker but that even Prokofiev is, when he is generally ranked under Shosty in terms of popularity. Oh well. Go Sergei! You are my dream date, you big hunk(ok, really skinny and weird looking) o' man you!