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13 November 2007 / April

Too many rehearsals do not an alert accompanist make

Kirsten: “Why don’t you start the measure before Ping enters in measure 45.”
Me: (long pause) “So… measure 44?”

This is pretty much how I’ve been for the last, oh, month or so. Someone directed a question at me in German class and my reply was “I don’t know. Wait, what did you just ask me?” People have found it amusingly easy to scare the living daylights out of me just by saying hello while I’m walking numbly to my next class. Sure, we just had a three-day weekend, but me? I’m counting the days till Thanksgiving. Can’t come soon enough.

Well, how about I write about something vaguely interesting instead. My (first) rehearsal with Ping today meant I couldn’t go to math seminar, which wasn’t really a problem because it’s not actually a class, except it was kind of a problem because I’m the only student with a perfect attendance record (a distinction I am very proud of, thanks very much).

Except it wasn’t actually a problem, because I wandered in during the last ten minutes of the period to find that the instructor hadn’t even showed up and everyone (where “everyone”= three students) was just sitting around “study hall-ing.” I was quite psyched to learn that I still hadn’t missed a day of seminar.

So we chilled and chatted, and the puns section of my brain exploded because Mr. D has mad punning skills, yo. Heh. I can’t believe I just put the words “Mr. D” and “yo” in the same sentence.

My (second) rehearsal with Ping today meant I couldn’t go to choir, which wasn’t a problem at all, even though it’s actually a class. That statement should worry me far more than it does.

As an irrelevant aside, my procrastination of yesterday was greatly rewarded when Mr. J made the due date of our DBQ essay Friday rather than tomorrow. He basically admitted he wouldn’t get around to grading them till the weekend anyway, so he might as well let us have a couple more days to waste and we can cram it all in Thursday night instead. This was cause for much smug back-patting for those who’d daringly left the essay undone over the long weekend. Procrastination: 1, responsibility: 0.

Mr. J is actually my hero. Though he may have to share the distinction with Mr. D. (I mean seriously, six puns in a single sentence?)


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