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25 July 2008 / April

Um, “Tampons” is as good a title as any

… I suppose.

Some soundbites and sightbites and wordbites from the last few days of Suzuki Institute.

Actually, I unfortunately have no photos of the faculty dinner cruise on Wednesday night.  Which I’m sure the dignified teachers who performed the decidedly less dignified birthday song for Carrie really appreciate… No further comment.

I also got to meet a couple of awesome guys from Carriage House Violins and get to know Sarah a little better.  Among other things, we formulated a very elaborate scheme for a cliff house and pondered the semantic differences between “gorge” and “ravine.”  It was an enjoyable conversation.

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This was pretty much the only blue sky we saw all week, for more than a couple hours at least.  Otherwise it was rain and clouds, bestowing the ultimate Ithaca experience unto the out-of-towners.

Sarah also introduced me to Emmett, who is a hilarious violist.  At the viola concert on Thursday (which I attended to support my beloved book 1 class, but also because it was going to be much shorter than the violin concert), they had purple roses between their teeth during the performance of a tango, which they threw into the audience after the piece.  I wish I’d been in the front row so I could’ve gotten a rose.

Anyway, this is related because Emmett told us at lunch today that his rose actually hit a girl who said, “Ow!  Someone threw a flower at me!”  This was basically the funniest thing I’d heard all week.

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This is the book 1 violin class helping their teacher with a couple minor adjustments in posture.

I’m glad I got at least one photo of the easily excitable and easily entertained kids that were overrunning the IC campus.  I really wish I’d gotten pictures of the book 1 viola class though, because those kids (and the teacher!) were great fun and I actually got to know them, since there were only four.  One of them broke his left arm the day of the concert but still performed– with the help of another teacher doing the fingerings for him.  Another always wore some kind of a sailor/captain hat and had a long conversation with me about instruments in parades (“Can there be cellos?  Basses?  Pianos?”).

Speaking of conversations and small children…

Little girl: “Are those cigars?”

Frazzled mother: “What? … No, those aren’t cigars.  They’re kind of shaped like cigars though.”

Little girl: “Do they sell cigars here?”

Frazzled mother: “No, they wouldn’t sell cigars here because you can’t smoke.”

This was a conversation I overheard in the bathroom… about tampons.  Hence the title of this entry.  I know, the suspense was killing you.

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Wow, I am unbelievably sleepy.

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