Army/Navy Surplus

Today was not a very good day as far as temperature goes.

I first noticed this when it was EXTREMELY FREAKING COLD OUTSIDE. Like extremely cold.

The next time I noticed this was when I tried to unlock my bike. Noting the failures of locking my bike up behind Smitty B, I decide I would lock it up outside the stairs that lead to Metcalf Hall so I can just get it when I'm leaving the dorm [Metcalf is connected to Andrews Hall]. When I timidly took my freezing, freezing hands out of my pockets to grab the freezing, black, metal lock on my bike, and put the key in the hole and tried to turn it... I noticed there was a problem. It wasn't really turning. I kept trying and, after a few tries, I got it. I put it on my handlebars and locked it back up and went to the Ratty for breakfast. I had even more troubled there, but got it locked. I noticed there was ice inside the metal workings of the lock.

The next time I noticed there was a problem with this was when I COULDN'T UNLOCK MY BIKE. It's stuck at The Ratty. When I came out after breakfast, stuck. Same after lunch. I suspect it will be even more stuck tomorrow. I'm not sure what to do. Maybe I'll throw hot water on it after I steal some from the Ratty?

Well anyway. I also needed gloves because my hands are constantly freezing these days. I should also get boots, but those are way more expensive, so I just went for gloves. I went to the Army/Navy Surplus store on the east side of the north end of Thayer St. I'd gone there before, but like I said, I was dizzy and people were talking and it was weird and I didn't see what I wanted so I just left.

I went back in today. As I was walking in, I noticed a sign on the front door that said "Apartment for Rent," or something to that effect. I thought it was kind of strange that someone would advertise for an apartment on the window of an army/navy store. Anyway, walked in the door. Again, the first thing I saw were these little tiny green camo shorts with "BOOTY CAMP" written across the back, and I just thought to myself... there's no way this is legit army/navy stuff. This was confirmed as I looked through the store, and especially when I looked at the gloves. I was expecting something different, but oh well. I got a pair of $10 gloves and paid for them with my credit card.

Just as I was wrapping up, a guy walked in the door. He was slightly shorter than an average man, thin, white, and you can tell that he looked much older than he actually was. I remember noticing something about his eyes but I forget why now. He greeted the man at the counter who had just rung me up as if he was an old friend - I was actually under the impression they were old friends for a second. Then the man started talking, "Hey, my manager from CVS just told me to come over here to ask about an apartment." And the man at the counter said, "Oh, yeah, it's a three bedroom."

I couldn't believe someone was not only advertising an apartment at the army/navy, but actually looking for one there, and finally selling one there. I took a little bit of extra time getting my things together because I wanted to listen to this conversation.

The guy who was looking to rent said that it cost him $130 a week just to transport himself from his home [a town that starts with "A"] to and from work at CVS every week, so he had to move, because he only made $120 per week. He also mentioned that he worked at two CVSs. I thought that was really sad - that this guy who was probably 40 years old worked at two CVSs and was just $5 per week per store he worked at away from being able to ... not lose money by working. I don't know why, but there was something really tragic about the whole scene. Maybe I'm not communicating it. I guess it gets worse.

The guy at the counter said that the apartment was $1200 per month - which, doing the math, is what the guy makes in 10 weeks, not 4.5. There... just didn't seem to be any way it would work out. But he insisted he was going to buy it. He said he would be quiet, and he had a job, lots of money, and he had a roommate, so he'd be a good tenant. I think that made me really sad. That being quiet was something he used to sell himself to this guy. He said that he would come back on Friday to put down a deposit on the department - of $1200.

When he was asked if he wanted to see the place before he bought it, he refused. That was the last thing I heard before I left the store.

Peace out.

Regina Spektor

Last night, a little after 9:30, I went to the holiday a capella concert thrown by The Higher Keys [male and female, about 20 members, including Kayla and Sarah Kay] and The Bear Necessities [the group which I tried out for and didn't make callbacks]. A lot of our floor was going to go and we were all going to walk together, but for some reason my RC, Andy, was left behind with me, so we ended up walking together. It was freezing cold - I didn't take my hands out of the pockets of my thick black jacket once the entire way there. Earlier that day I had done so to ride my bike, and I couldn't feel my thumb when I went to lock it up. On the way there we talked about the Ratty, and how the morning after the Daylight Savings Time change, your body felt like it was waiting until 11:30 to eat breakfast, which sucked. Furthermore, a lot of people went at "10:30" which was actually 9:30 and had to sit there, hungry, waiting for an hour.

When we showed up, we ran into a couple people that seemed to know Andy, including one friend he had called as we were about to pass The Gate. There was a girl, I think named Kaylie(?) who was from Philadelphia and remembered me from the train up to Brown during ADOCH. Her grandmother lives in a development right off of Naaman's Creek Road, near the Wawa. She was friends with Sophie, an Asian girl in WORD that I've talked to a bunch of times and thought was nice, so we and Andy and his friend sat together during the show when they let us it. We were supposed to donate ($2?) to the Women's Hope Foundation to help women in [I think] the Dominican Republic who otherwise had no access to health care, but when they opened the doors everyone was so concerned about getting The Good Seats that no one donated. Maybe people did afterwards, I'm not sure.

The groups had decorated the chalkboards in the auditorium we sat in - the main hall of MacMillan. There was one board that was shaded green and said "HAPPY/MERRY/JOYOUS" and then one shaded in red beneath it that said something like "CHRISTMANNUKKWWAAKANZAKA." I can't recall exactly, but I remember thinking it made absolutely no sense. Just about the only other things I remember on the boards was an amalgamation of the letters "TBN," which I guess is the symbol for Bear Necessities, and I think a snowman drawing.

The show started very abruptly, I remember. The Higher Keys came out after a very short introduction by someone guy I don't know. I can't remember their first song, but I remember thinking it was by a kid who was a little bit awkward. After it was over, they started tuning for their second song, and Andy's friend said "Sounds like F major!" I asked Andy if he had perfect pitch and he said that he did.

At one point in the show, The Higher Keys's spokesman said something to the effect of, "I hope you guys stick around for the Bears 'cause they have even more kick-ass stuff for you all." A kid behind us in the audience said, "What? Is that meant to imply that this is kick ass?" You had to hear how angrily he said it, but it was funny, I promise.

I think it was actually the second song by The Higher Keys that I really liked. It was soft and slow, and the lead singer/soloist - I swear I've seen her before, but I don't think she's a freshman - had the most amazing high pitched voice I've ever heard. Like, operatic almost. I asked Andy if he knew who it was by, and he didn't know, so I asked Sophie and she said it was by Regina Spektor. I'd heard of Regina Spektor before but I didn't really like that one song of her's I heard [Fidelity, it turns out], but this one was very, very different and I could tell I liked it much more.

When I went home, I found the video for it on YouTube and I swear, in the past 24 hours, I must have listened to it 20-30 times. I don't think I know all the words, though, but I don't really care because I just like how it sounds. I really like a couple lines, though, like "The bible didn't mention us" and "kissed me 'till the morning light."

This morning I was talking to Viv and I told her that I feel in love with Regina Spektor last night, and she was very excited for me. She said that I should learn how to play Samson [the song I heard/fell in love with] on piano, and I said yeah, sometime I should. She got me the sheet music a couple minutes later from a Yahoo Group called Regispek. I figured I would play it tonight for midnight piano.

A little after 12, I decided I would go. It was very very cold outside again today. I couldn't feel my hands. I even went to the Army Navy Surplus store to buy mittens but got dizzy and didn't find anything and people were talking about NASCAR and poker so I left without any. It snowed a lot today, and I think there was still some snow coming down because my Samson sheet music is crinkled and wet, and there was a lot of ice on the ground and even/especially near the stairs on the Andrews Terrace and I was very afraid I was going to fall. I didn't wear a jacket or anything - just my Duke shirt and my "This is my Brown t-shirt?" white gym t-shirt - because I was just running to Alumnae Hall. I went in through The Gate, and saw Jasmine and Malcolm and Spencer and Danny, but really wanted to play so I just said hello and went on my way.

When I got up the spiral staircase that leads to the hall, I heard piano. I figured someone else must have figured out my trick. The lights were on, thankfully, and a door was open. I wasn't sneaky or anything, and they heard me come in [which is what I wanted]. There were actually three of them. It looked like one of them, whose name I found out was Kelly, was teaching the other two how to play, but I'm not sure. There was a guy on the bench, too, named Chris, and a girl whose name I really wish I could remember but can't. She had dark hair and skin and eyes and played classical piano and was an accompanist, but I can't remember her name.

When I got to the piano, I kind of just wanted to say hey and then go on my way - I could play another time. But they pretty much insisted that they were done. I still wanted to talk to them though and definitely didn't want them to leave/feel like I wanted them to leave, so I asked them how they got in and they told me through a window (!). I told them they could get in through the spiral staircase by The Gate, and they said they should use that from then on. I also told them if they had a friend in the Orchestra, they could ask them to get a key and then give it to them which I said was what I did, and that made them feel like they had to go, but I said again that no, they didn't have to leave. And they said they'd been there for a while and should, and I said No, you can stay! And Chris said they had school tomorrow, which I guess was a good answer, but I still wanted them to stay. One of them asked me why I came, and I told them about Regina Spektor and that I just wanted to play it tonight. It seemed like Chris and the girl whose name I forget knew the song. She asked me if I could play it. I wasn't sure if I could or not - I'd never looked at the music before - but I told her I might be able to play it and not sing it. So I put it on the music stand and told them to go along with me.

I started playing - five sharps (!), but I knew the chords for the most part right away so it wasn't too difficult for me. We couldn't sing it perfectly, and I messed up some of the timing, but I actually ... well, I liked playing and singing with them, I guess. And I wasn't nervous at all. I didn't even think about my nerves until this minute, actually. The girl whose name I can't remember said Chris was a good singer - and he was. But she was also better than she gave herself credit for.

I think it was actually after we finished playing that they introduced themselves to me, and the girl whose name I can't remember told me she wished she could read chords for her accompanying and that she was finally teaching herself how. We walked outside together, just for a minute, before they had to go to Keeney and I had to go back to Andrews. We have school tomorrow, of course...

On the way back, still wearing just just my two shirts, I heard someone call my name from the other side of the Andrews sidewalks. I looked over and saw Bekah, bundled up in a huge white coat. I told her that I'd been meaning to talk to her for a while but I never got the right time.

Peace out.

Baby Book

When I was home last week for Thanksgiving - with the cold sore the left side of my lower lip - I found my baby book. I can't remember quite if it was Saturday or Sunday. I know that when I woke up it was Sunday, but I can't remember if I found it after midnight or not. I know that I had just signed off from AIM and told Gina I was going to take a shower and go to sleep, but for some reason when I went to my room I really wanted to look through my old yearbooks and see if I could find old pictures of Gina. I found a couple of my yearbooks on the right side of my bed - I think the middle school ones - and then I found some more on the left side of my bed. I think I only found one of them that had Gina and I in it. I think it was when I was putting them back in that I noticed a book I had never seen on the right side of my bedstand. Its outside was a mix of pastel green, yellow, and pink, thickly bound with some papers sticking out of it. I opened it up. I can't remember exactly what I saw first, but I knew immediately that it was my baby book! I was so excited! Even though I knew Gina would be dead tired I kept texting her to tell her all the crazy things I found, even though we agreed to look through it tomorrow [which we did... sort of].

Somewhere in the beginning was a picture of me, which I'm not sure I saw until the next day when we looked through it again. There was the name of the doctor that delivered me - I think Kalzan or something along those lines. I guess I'm started to forget some of the specific parts but I'll try for what I can still remember. I found out that I used to call my blanket "Gocky." I don't know why, it doesn't make any sense to me at all. I also used to say "gaboon" instead of "balloon," and I said "bemorrow" instead of "tomorrow." One time my parents found me in the bathroom drinking water out of my shoe. One time, they told me that if I ate my Easter candy too fast they would take my Easter basket away; later they found me in the hallway closet eating candy out of my basket. Once my mom asked me if I was her baby, and I said, "No! I'm your little guy!" I apparently loved to go anywhere, at any time - I called it "going bye-bye" - even to boats that made me sleepy. I also really liked our cat Pepper, and wanted her to lay with me all the time. The first time I pulled myself up in my crib, I looked shocked (!).

At the end of the book there were a ton of pieces of "art" that I had made. Mostly it looked like watercolors on crinkled paper. One of them, I think, looked like I was trying to make a landscape. I know I loved dinosaurs so maybe it was from that period. Most of the time I just drew lines, though. There were a couple things in there that I had drawn, including one thing we had ripped off from a paper menu at Friendly's. I had no idea my parents kept so much stuff. There was also a birthday card or Christmas card that I just took and scribbled aaaaaaaaall over. I'm sure I was really proud of myself. There were also two copies of a picture of me soon after I was born. I had my eyes closed and hands up and I looked like an alien.

At the end of that section, behind the pictures and paintings, I found an envelope. It was closed. On the outside, it said, "Jessica, Ryan, & Jeffrey // My 3 Angels from Heaven." I didn't know what to do - should I open it? Should I not? I don't know exactly why, but I couldn't resist opening it. I made sure to mess up the envelope as little as possible because I would probably want to keep it for later. Inside there was a letter that my mom wrote in 1989, and apparently no one had seen since. She was going on a "four-day trip" - but she didn't say where, and I have no idea whether or not it was a trip. I know my pregnancy included complications so it might have been some medical problem. She was afraid that she wouldn't come back for some reason, so she wrote this to us all just in case. She wrote a little bit to Jess, then to Ryan, then to me. She said she'd hardly gotten a chance to know me yet, but that I was just as gorgeous as Ryan and Jessica were, and she loved to see me smile and she loved my eyes.

The very end was the saddest part, though. She just said, "Please don't forget me, and look at my picture sometimes."

How tragic!

And to think that, had she not come back, I never would have forgotten her because I would not have remembered her.

Peace out.

Writing

All I want to do right now is write. I have class tomorrow at 10:30AM, which I think would be good, because I think that's about when I would be done writing if I started right now. I considered staying up all night to write but I decided maybe that wasn't the best idea right now. I just want to write for so many reasons, I can't even say. Lines and notes and letters and messages and apologies and elegies and entries and stories and anything else I could think of. Ironically, today is the first day at Brown where I didn't contact everyone I meant to. I'm sorry to all of you.

Peace out.

it

I always try to remember the very last time I can see you. So I watched you walk home today from my bay window. Jeans, slippers, brown crocheted/knitted thing on. Your bag slung across you. Two white papers in your left hand. Hair down. And you walked in the garage door and I missed you.

Peace out.

Yellow Leaves

Yellow leaves in the fall are definitely my favorite. That doesn't really make any sense because I hate the color yellow. It makes me feel tense and rushed most of the time, and I never liked that our house was mostly yellow. But this week, when I was at home, I noticed yellow leaves a lot more than ever. I don't know why they struck me. They were so nice to look at, though.

I remember there was a tree on the main green here, a couple weeks ago, the week that we sat outside and a man got attacked by a squirrel, that had leaves that were turning a very bright yellow and I thought that tree looked incredible, too.

I think I first noticed the yellow leaves at home, though, on the way home from school on Wednesday. I was driving Gina [and myself] back home on Smithbridge Road, and just after we passed the middle school, we saw a line of trees with beautiful yellow leaves. They're the ones that line the awkward bend of the running path that goes in a big circle near Kid's Dream Playground, between the school and the house with a grey steel chicken outside of it. So we just looked and appreciated them for a moment.

And then when we got home, we noticed that in Gina's back yard, the big tree was covered in bright yellow leaves, too. But it didn't look like any of them had fallen yet; the tree was still very full. I don't remember why, but Gina had her camera on her at some point that day and took a couple pictures of the tree.

I meant to take pictures when I went home this time. I really did. I meant to take pictures of that tree when the leaves were still yellow. I was even going to take the picture in color. Maybe even vivid color. But for some reason I never got around to it, and by the time I finally decided I would make myself take that picture, on Sunday morning, all the leaves had fallen.

Peace out.

Coming Home!

I can't believe that it is on the day that I come home that I start to develop a cold sore on my lip.

Peace out.

KY

Last Thursday or Friday, I was sitting in the BH lobby doing some homework or Facebooking or something in the middle of the glass-lighted table where most people do their work while here. I was sitting on the side closest to the doors, and across from me, a bit to my right [closer to the Brown Food Cart] were two people talking about a bunch of courses at Brown. I can't remember exactly what I heard or in what order I heard it, but I remember at one point the girl suggested creating a class numbered ENGN0070 because she liked the number "7." Then she and the guy that she was sitting with started talking about what would be in the course - I remember they said it should be fun, with group projects, design projects, things like that. I guess they were trying to come up with a new intro course for Engineering track freshmen that would get them interested and keep them there.

Actually, before that, I remember them going over some statistics on some paper the girl brought with her. I think one of the questions that was surveyed and reviewed on one of the pages was "What needs to be fixed in the Brown Engineering Department?" I think one of the answers was that the professors didn't seem to care, or something along those lines. Another one of the questions was "What is the best engineering school?" Of course M.I.T. was #1 - I forget how many responses it had - and Brown only had one respondent name it as the best engineering school. There were some other things they talked about on those sheets but I can't remember what they were.

A little bit later on they were talking about the requirements for the ENGN track at Brown, and what it should and shouldn't include. Apparently Linear Algebra (MATH0520) is currently a requirement, but people blow it off more readily than any other course on the list of pre-reqs, and they seemed pretty upset about that. They looked at the list and saw that CHEM0330 was a pre-req, too, but that it could be satisfied with CHEM0100. They decided if the pre-req could be met with 0100, there was no reason to make engineers waste their time with 0330, so they took that off the list, I believe, and hoped it would give people room to take Linear Algebra instead.

At one point, I looked over on their paper and saw a big circle with AM33 & AM34 inside it that said "DIFF EQ" [differential equations], which apparently they thought was a big problem. They started talking about APMA0330 (Applied Math 1) and APMPA0340 (Applied Math 2), and I could tell that neither of them had been in those courses for a while. I spoke up and said, "I'm in AM33 if you have any questions about what it's like now," because I could tell that the curicculum had changed over the past four years from what they were saying. I told them that we did tons and tons of forms of ordinary and partial differential equations, and he seemed to think that was good enough for the needs of the program and you could learn anything else along the way. I showed him the homework set I just got back - which included the method of variation of parameters, etc. - and he commented that he never had anything like that in his year. He said they spent a month on population models alone - we spent one-fifth of a problem set on it. We agreed that AM33 needed to be fixed, though, because it's kind of a hodge-podge requirement course for a number of different majors [Engine, business, applied math, comp sci, some more?] and tries to satisfy them all while not actually satisfying any of them. I think they agreed to design a differential equations course specifically for engineering majors.

At that point, I think the girl asked me for my name, so I told her, and she said her name was Teresa. They guy's name was Ky [I wasn't sure how to spell it, and the time I thought it might be Kai or something else]. She had really short black hair, glasses, thin. He had blondish hair and a little bit of facial hair. Both were white, and young - she was a new staff member and he was a senior engineering major.

There's more to this but I have to go to class now...

Peace out.

The Long Awaited William McNary

Just about the only group at Brown that I'm active in is Democracy Matters. I didn't see them at the activity fair, but I saw their name on the huge list of clubs and put a star next to them after reading their tagline. I sent an e-mail to their president, Jonathan Bogard, that said something very close to

Dear Jon,

I feel shut out, pissed off, and ready to change politics.
Also I am poor.

Sincerely,
Jeff Conway

I think he got back to me that night to tell me about the first meeting, at the Sarah Doyle Women's Center, at 8PM on Sunday. I rode my bike, and I saw Gene there, and a girl named Christine or Christina baked chocolate chip cookies that I thought were really good. I wore my "Friends Don't Let Friends Vote Republican" shirt that I had bought the day I came onto campus at the Urban Outfitters on Thayer St.

I can't remember exactly when we started planning, but at some point we wanted to bring in a speaker. I think this was probably the second or third meeting, and we went through a small list of names of people that supported public financing of election (which is what Democracy Matters [DM] works on). I think there was some big names, like Senator Dick Durbin, and some relative of Jesse Jackson or Al Sharpton, and then William McNary, who Te-Ping said was the best and most electrifying speaker she had ever, ever seen. He seemed a lot more plausible than all the other candidates, plus Te-Ping swore by him, so we decided to go for him.

We wanted to make sure a lot of people came to see him and got excited for our cause, of course, so we started tableslipping. We decided to go the viral marketing route. The first batch of tableslips said in large letters "WHO IS WILLIAM MCNARY" and then had a blacked out face with a ? in the middle of it, signed Democracy Matters at the bottom.

After that, we decided to start "campusslipping," which is basically when you take the equivalent of a tableslip and tape it somewhere around campus where people will walk on it or see it. There are some really nice, reflective windows on the Bio-Med center building as you walk down Brown St., and people always look at themselves in them, so we were told to put some there. The slips said: "MCNARY // power is finite. // equality is infinite"

The next batch of tableslips, I believe, looked like a dictionary page and came to the entry "McNary," defined as one of the most electrifying speakers of our time, and then gave the location of the speech (Monday, November 11th, 8PM in Salomon 001). The next entry in the dictionary, I remember, was "williaw," which I think is a swift and cold breeze or something close to that. The writing on the dictionary pages got lighter as you went up or down, so the McNary entry was by far the darkest/most visible.

The final batch of tableslips was done on Monday, just to tell people that the speech was that night. I signed up to tableslip the V-Dub at 4PM, forgetting that I had my Education seminar at that time. I had to pass it off to Jon when I saw him setting up the table where we would hand out hot chocolate and talk to people about democracy.

I went to the speech. I had a bag of gummi worms in my pocket that I wanted to save until the show started but I ended up eating a couple of beforehand. Gene and Yana came to see, and they sat next to me. Danny and Kayla also came, and sat next to Gene and Yana. To be honest, I don't remember much about the speech, and I don't think it was that interesting. He wasn't as electrifying as he was made out to be. He basically outlined a socialist utopia and then said that public financing of elections would bring us that. He rubbed the podium he was speaking at very often, and didn't make good eye contact, and raised his back left foot up a lot. He had a LOT of papers in front of him and it looked like he was reading from them. He used a lot of rhymes. He's black, and he was bald, I think he was Baptist, but he was very liberal, although he did not mention abortion.

The most interesting part of the entire experience was the man sitting in front of me.

One time when I went to the Brown bookstore, I saw a homeless person when I was parking my bike beside the building. I think that was the first homeless person I had seen in Providence, although I can't be sure. I remember being startled by him, though. If I'm remembering correctly, this was the same man who was sitting in front of me at the McNary speech.

It was a black man, with male-pattern baldness, but that only covers about a third of his head. The rest of his hair is very long, and he seemed to have it in dreadlocks, but much thinner than usual dreadlocks. You could see spots and strands of gray in his hair, but largely it was black. He also had a substantial beard, and you could see gray in that, too. His skin seemed really leathery, and I could almost hear the texture at one point when he began rubbing his hands together repeatedly. I wondered why he did that. The top of his head - the bald part - also seemed pretty leathery.

He was wearing a large gold ring, and he took it off later. I remember he was wearing three layers of shirts, a jacket and some sort of athletic wear and something else. He clapped at the mention of universal health care, and at the criticism of the war in Iraq.

I had to wonder how he found out about the speech by McNary. It wasn't very well publicized in the community, from what I could tell, although one or two other adults did show up. This guy had a copy of the Brown Daily Herald in his hand - maybe it was in there, but I think I would have heard if somebody were putting something about McNary in there.

I wondered how long he'd been going to speeches like this at Brown. How many lectures has he been to? What does he know about public financing? What does he know about carbon trading or the ACLU or graph theory? What kind of education is this guy getting from these speeches?

Peace out.

Response Paper

I stayed up until now - 2:20AM - doing my readings for my education course tomorrow so that I could write a paper by 3AM and be done with my responses. Before I started writing the paper, I looked at Dr. West's comment and suggestions again on my old papers. He said that I should write about my issue on the central topics - this week, teacher compensation and merit pay. I decided not to write the paper because I didn't have an opinion. I feel pretty strange right now. I feel kind of cheated, because I stayed up so late for nothing. I also know that I should definitely have an opinion on this, I just can't feel it right now.

Peace out.

Updated Letter from Mrs. Rock

I put the old edited stuff back in the post about Mrs. Rock, so its title is partially inaccurate now. Some stuff I'm still leaving out. Maybe I'll put add it this fall or spring or something.

Peace out!

My Strongest Memory of Aston

When I was in 7th grade, my old cat, Pepper, started to get sick. I remember it was in 7th grade because the last time I saw her was when my mom picked me up from an Aston soccer practice, and I was only with Aston during 7th grade.

I remember the practices were held on some school campus that I thought was absolutely huge, and it was quite a drive for me, especially compared to BYC where I used to play (and could walk to if I asked). Our coach was Scottish, the father of Bill Randall, and the team was full of misfits but we were all friends. I remember there were two kids named Ed and Kevin who were rough around the edges, but best friends, and really easy to get along with. They're the kind of kids who would see a friend getting in a fight in a street and beat the crap out of the other kid even if they didn't know why anyone was fighting, because they would just assume their friend was right and that was all there was to it. There was also another kid named Ian who I remember pretty clearly because he was good at soccer, sort of strange, sort of pale, sort of small, pretty fast though. He had a little sister who looked way too much like him. There might have been a red-headed kid named Michael Conway on that team, too, but I can't remember. Pat MacCullough was also on the team. He was goofy, and got kicked in the kidney once and peed blood.

Anyway.

I remember practices were always really pretty. I don't know why, but I don't have any memories of practices at night or in storms. They're all at sunset in a large open field, and all very beautiful. I remember we had a practice on September 11th, 2001, and we saw a plane go across the sky and we were all worried. I think that's the only way I could figure out that I was actually on the team during 7th grade, not 6th.

Like I was saying, my cat Pepper was very sick at the time. I think she was just about as old at me, so probably 12 or 13 years old at that point. She had congestive heart failure, I think. She was on some medicines for it that my mom had to painfully force feed her or trick her into eating every day, but it didn't look like anything was helping.

Pepper started retaining fluid. She got really really bloated, and my dad would jokingly call her a basketball with ears (which didn't make sense because she was not orange). I remember that you could feel the liquid inside of her if you put a little pressure on her skin, and you could feel from her matte that she wasn't washing herself anymore. She looked sad, I remember thinking. I think one time my parents actually had the vet remove whatever fluid was building up in her, but it came back very quickly.

My parents inevitably had to deal with issue of euthenasia. My dad thought it was the right thing to do because he believed we were just making the cat suffer, and she wasn't enjoying life anymore, she was just in pain. My mom, I think, was too emotionally attached to Pepper, so she thought putting her to sleep was simply out of the picture. I remember they talked a couple times about some talk show in California that wanted to talk to couples that were having such issues, but I think they wanted them to bring Pepper to the filming of the show, and that was just ridiculous, so of course they would never do that.

One day, Tuesday or Thursday, after soccer practice in Aston - I think it was still light out, so it must have been pretty early in the season - my mom came to pick me up in whichever van we had at the time. I got in the back seat (couldn't ride passenger seat for some reason) and I saw Pepper next to me in the backseat, laying in a box. She wasn't moving much, and she was much bigger than any cat should be and way bigger than she had ever been when she was healthy. I didn't know what was going on, and I remember being kind of confused and worried. My mom told me we were taking her to the vet to put her to sleep, and she thought she would bring Pepper to practice so I could see her one more time and say goodbye. I can't remember if I cried right then or not. I loved that cat, and I still miss her.

We drove to the vet on the way home, and my mom asked me if I wanted to go in with her or not. I knew I would never be able to see something like that, so I waited in the car and my mom took the box with Pepper inside it into the building. I'm pretty positive I was crying by then, since that was the last time I would ever have seen Pepper alive. She came back out a little bit later. I can't remember if she had her body or not, because I know we had a funeral for Pepper but I think I would have been creeped out if she had brought the body back.

I asked Mom how Pepper looked when she was dying, and she said she just looked like she was going to sleep and that she looked happy. I believed her at the time, but I'm not so sure I can believe that anymore.

I don't remember the ride home. I remember that I cried a lot that night and I'm pretty sure my mom asked if I wanted to skip school the next day. I didn't skip, but I'm pretty sure I was a wreck the next night, too.

We didn't have very many good pictures of Pepper. The best one I think we could find, I think, is the one my mom framed and gave to me. It's a picture of Pepper sitting on two paws in front of the glass sliding door in the kitchen at our Brookside house, looking towards the camera with her green eyes. You can see that she doesn't have a tail, and you can see from her mix of brown and black fur that she was very much a mutt. There was still some sort of construction in our backyard at the time, so you could see hunter's orange wirefence in the background. My mom also gave me the last collar Pepper ever wore - it's old and yellow and beaten up and it's hanging on the frame of that picture in my room on my bedstand. I remember the first time I touched it, I just lost it. I've gotten a little better since then, but not much.

And of all the things I remember about my year with Aston, this is the strongest.

Peace out.

That was NOT a Safe Ride

This Saturday, Nupur and I went to see a Tom Stoppard play called "The Real Inspector Hound" being performed by a student group in Brown's T. F. Green building, which I'd say is about three-fourths of a mile away from either of our dorms. We got out of the play, I think, very shortly after 12:00AM (so by the it was technically Sunday morning). We started walking back towards our dorms, but we were both freezing the entire time we were watching the play and we were even more freezing now that we were walking outside. We really, really wanted a way to be not-freezing-our-faces-off.

The obvious answer, of course, is SafeRide, the free shuttle that goes around the Brown and RISD campuses. For the past couple days, Nupur and I kept seeing SafeRide vans with drivers just parked in the lot outside of B & H, and since that was essentially on our way back anyway, we figured we would go there. For the first time we could remember, there were no SafeRide vans in the parking lot of B & H. I don't think we saw any at all, not even any parked without drivers.

So we kept walking on, past B & H. We could see into the lounge (where I am right now) and see that no one was there, so we knew there was no way in. We kept walking around to the sliding-door entrance and I tried all three of the doors there - the central sliding doors and the two doors on either side - because I really wanted a break from the freezing (B & H usually has a good climate). None of the doors opened. We could see people in the computer lab - some people have cards that will let them swipe in - but we figured it wasn't even worth waiting to get the attention of the nearest person and ask to be let in, so we just went on and figured we would look for SafeRide on Thayer St.

So we made The Walk from B & H, down the brick pathway lined with trees, across Brook St., across the cement sidewalk between the Sci Li and MacMillan, and turned right onto Thayer St. Nupur thought she saw a SafeRide van parked, so we ran towards it screaming, but then we saw that it wasn't a SafeRide van. Then, thank god, a SafeRide van came driving right towards us from further up Thayer St., so we flagged it down, ran to the nearest stop, and got in.

Now, when you get into SafeRide, you're supposed to show them your Brown or RISD ID card so they know they're not just giving rides to crazy people who want free, safe rides in white vans with heaters on. Oh, yes, the heater was on and it was glorious. Anyway, the point is, the driver didn't check our IDs. We just got right in and he left as soon as we closed the door. That didn't make me feel very safe...?

We got in the van at 12:17AM.

As we were driving down Thayer St., the driver kept talking on his cell phone (but in walkie-talkie mode) in Spanish(?) to someone else. Just about all I could figure out was that it was also a guy. The only time our driver stopped talking on his cell phone was when he wasn't driving the van, which seemed completely backwards, but what was I going to do? So I just went with it, feeling once again, not very safe.

Our ride wasn't the most direct path. We went down Thayer St. some more, and I forget exactly where we went from there, but I remember we drove through the center of The Walk and I was upset that we hadn't just caught the SafeRide van crossing when we were there. Later on in the ride, the van actually stopped right outside the T. F. Green building, where Nupur and I had left the play. We could have just stayed inside and waiting and we would have been exactly as well off as we were before. We felt a little cheated, I think.

When we stopped at the T. F. Green, three more people got in - Peter Drinan, a really nice guy from New York in my Education class; Taylor, a very proud singer; and another girl whose name I unfortunately forgot as soon as she said it. Peter and Taylor were in a competition that night to see who knew more people - they were in that competition before the play, too, and Peter called my name just so he could prove to Taylor that he knew me.

When we got in the van, Peter said hello to me again to show again to Taylor that he knew more people than her. She introduced herself to me, and I said, "Hey, yeah, I'm Jeff, I've met you before!" She looked really confused. I'm pretty sure it was because I met her when she was drunk and she didn't have any memory of it. I guess she was a little worried of what I knew of her if she couldn't remember meeting me. I thought that was kind of interesting.

Nupur and I talked for the rest of the ride home. The other three got out at Keeney before the van went North to Pembroke so Nupur and I could get out.

It was 12:35AM when we got out of the van.

IT WAS NOT A SAFE RIDE.

Peace out!

Midnight Organ Concert

On October 31st at 11:59PM, the University was sponsoring a midnight organ concert. I think they put on three midnight concerts every year - once the day before class starts, once on Halloween, and once on Day on College Hill when all the prospective freshmen come to look at the campus. I went to the one the day before classes started, and last night I went to the one on Halloween.

The name of the first piece was "The World Awaiting a Savior," by some French composer with a name close to Durcel. I read it in the program long before the organ started playing, and I was really excited for it - what could this song sound like? Imagine how intense and powerful it must be to be worthy of fame with a title like The World Awaiting a Savior...! I expected it to be one of those pieces that made the hair stand up on the back of your neck and made you shiver a little bit and then wonder if anyone else saw you shaking or could possibly feel the same way listening to it as you do.

Sadly, I was very disappointed by the piece. I remember thinking through it that it sounded like something written by a five-year-old. I mean, of course it was written by a famous composer in his adulthood, but it sounded really disorganized and unstructured... and not even that the disorganization and lack of structure were for effect, it just sounded like the composer was too lazy to make anything better so he just threw some notes on a paper and hoped someone would be able to play it.

So I didn't concentrate on the piee. Instead I looked around at everyone else in Sayles Hall watching. Most people were laying down. Max was right near me with his friend, Sunshine, who said that he had no first name. At one point Max laid his head down on the crossed legs of the girl behind him and tried to move his arms to make himself comfortable, and ended up laying his elbow across Sunshine's neck. He just turned his head smiled at Max, and eventually Max moved his elbow. He also ended up putting his foot on a crinkled piece of paper in an attempt to make himself comfortable. I saw that he was upset that he was making noise, so I said to him, "Lift up your foot" (I forget if it was left or right), then held up the paper, said "Put your foot down," and then let the paper drop on top of his shoes instead (the paper was underneath someone else, so I couldn't just move the paper).

I liked looking out in the audience... like I said, most people were laying down, but a select few were sitting against the wall or sitting cross-legged among the rest. There was one kid who particularly caught my attention. He was sitting about twenty feet from me, in the center of the width of the room but only about a quarter of the way back. He was staring very intently upward, but I didn't know why - the organ is up a floor, and there was no was he could possibly see the organ, so I don't really know what he was looking at. In either case, he didn't look down through the entire piece. He had both of his feet on the ground, but still sitting, with his arms around his knees, and he was holding the program in his right hand. He had glasses on, and a buzz cut, and I couldn't tell what ethnicity he was, probably Middle Eastern. I don't know why I was so struck by him - I guess it was because I couldn't believe how into the music he seemed to be.

The first piece ended on a major chord, which I didn't expect. Everyone was clapping, and Nathan said to me, "I love how you can feel the low notes!" And then I realized that I spent so much time looking at the crowd that I missed my favorite part of the organ itself.

Peace out!

Waffle Troubles

One of my favorite parts of Food@Brown is the Carbon waffle irons at the VDub. Generally, a Belgian Waffle with some syrup is my special 'dessert' breakfast for the week every Friday - since the VDub is closed on Saturday and Sunday. For the first month of school, it all went well as far as the waffles were concerned.

However, recently, it's taken a turn for the worst.

I can't remember when, but at one point last week, I was trying to make a Belgian waffle - maybe it was one for dinner since I stupidly went to the VDub even though they never have anything I like for dinner. In either case, when I lifted up the top half of the waffle machine, half of the waffle went with it. It took me so long to pry that waffle out of there. I'm not sure if I tried for another one after that or not.

I remember this Friday - my big day, going home! - I was so excited for my Belgian waffle. What a great way to start such a great weekend, right? So I put on the Pam and the batter, waiting 2m15s, and came back for my waffle. Once again, ripped right in half. Had to spend like five minutes tearing it out, then had to try again. I'm pretty sure that one was ripped in half, too. I remember that it looked inedible, but I'll be damned if I didn't have a Belgian waffle for breakfast on my big day, so I ate it anyway. [I was so excited I didn't really care, honestly!]

So Monday - "today" - I decided I wanted to try again to make up for lost waffles last week. When I showed up, BOTH irons had torn-in-half waffles in them, left by some very-entitled-feeling jerkbags who thought it wasn't their responsibility to clean up after stupid things they did. Myself and one other guy spent 5-10 minutes scraping out their mistake. He beat me to the punch, and put his waffle batter in. I then cleaned mine off and - damnit! - THERE WAS NO BATTER LEFT! But, again, I'll be damned if I didn't have a waffle to make up for the one on my big day. So I took what little batter there was left and put it in the iron, waited 2m15s, and opened it up. It wasn't quite done, and it certainly wasn't as big as a real waffle should be, but it was edible, so I ate it.

Today - Tuesday - I am on a mission. For a perfect Belgian waffle. It will not be ripped in half or half the size of what a Belgian waffle should be. I will not stop until I have acheived my goal. Wish me luck.

Peace out!

P.S. Happy birthday to Gina!!! If you're reading this you should tell her happy birthday. If you're a Brown person and don't know how to contact her, just ask me =)

A Letter to Mrs. Rock, Omitting 1.75 Paragraphs, Personal Info, and a Post Script

Dear Mrs. Rock, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10/29/07

I meant to write you this letter during the first month of school, but it somehow slipped my schedule so I'm writing it now - during class. Heh.

The first thing I wnated to tell you is just something fun I thought you could do: I'm going out with Gina Mattei, and if you said something about that in class, she'd probably melt, so you should! She tells me about your AP Gov class all the time - she thinks it's a ton of fun and that you're hilarious, like when you tried to get Dave Seiler in ^extra trouble for his counterfeit ID! And something about writing crazy things on the board when you were on the phone, but I forget exactly all the details of that story...

The QuizBowl team here is C R A Z Y. It's SO hard. I don't know how these kids know these things. I didn't really like the whole deal, though, so I decided not to do it. I really miss GV Hi-Q. I'm glad I devoted myself to it as much as I did now. Last year was really special, I thought - 3 freshman on-stage, we pretty much had 3 advisors (w/ Mrs. Law's help), and everyone was really close and we were always so excited to be there or at QuizBowl or bake cookies for a reception or anything...! I suppose that could still happen this/future years at GV, but it doesn't seem possible here. QuizBowl here is too huge & bulky & loose. So I guess what I'm trying to say is thanks for making last year happen. I really appreciated it.

Also, I don't know how to say/explain this without being awkward, but thanks for being such a good teacher. I liked you when I had you, but now that I can put you up against college professors... there is no comparison. They don't care as much as you did. They don't run class as well. They don't learn names or passions or interests. They don't have Gwen Stefani ringtones or stories about beach houses or speeches about annexing Mexico or candy bowls or college magnets. You did. You also taught - I find myself teaching myself out of books here a lot. It's just... there's no comparison between my classes here & my classes with you. Yours were superior in every way and I miss them very much.

I think Julie is applying to college this year, right? I hope that's going well. I'm sure she'll get in pretty much anywhere she wants to go. [Other omitted paragraph]

As for classes, I'm taking four different calculus classes right now. None of them are too hard, but the lectures are 50% useless and I use textbooks to learn a lot. Only have 3 tests per year really sucks. I'm doing fine, though, but some wiggle room would be a comfort right now. I'm in my education seminar right now - we talk about issues like standardizes testing, black-white gaps, teacher pay, NCLB Act...

Speaking of which, I'm becoming increasingly interesting in being a teacher. If that becomes the case, I'd be forced to leave Brown - they have no Math teacher training program. Plus no one would pay for me to go to Brown to be a teacher...

I'm trying to take a "City Politics" course next semester with this professor named Morone. Apparently his lectures are usually ended by a standing ovations, and he sometimes makes audience members cry with his passion. I'm pretty excited.

You should write me back/tell me how it's going! I'll probably see you on Thanksgiving weekend Wednesday, but that's still 3 weeks away and you should talk to me before then! How's Hi-Q looking this year? How are your AP US classes? How's your Cadillac convertible and beach house and everything else?

Email: Jeff_C@brown.edu
. . . . . mailto:.mCJE@gmail.com
Address: Jeff C
. . . . . . . . Brown University
. . . . . . . . 75 Waterman St., Box #5226
. . . . . . . . Providence, RI, 02912

Hope to see you soon!

Jeff

P.S. Say something to Gina for me!! =)

Plane ride

I've been using planes a lot more frequently than in the past. Each one is kind of like an emotional rollercoaster, but, there are some interesting things about plane rides. On the way back home the first time, when I was talking to Gina about it, I remember saying that I had done my math homework on the way back and I felt like I had missed out on something, and I wouldn't do that again. So now I make a point of looking out the window as much as possible on flights.

First off, when you just take off - maybe two minutes after - have you ever looked outside and just noticed huuuge, huge tracts of land that looks like farmland? Especially for those of us reading this that have taken off from Philadelphia. And have you wondered where the hell those huge tracts of land came from? When's the last time you were driving around and you just saw enormous tracts of unmolested land surrounding Philadelphia? I don't know what's going on with those... I'd like to get in the air, plot on out, and then see what was inside it.

A little bit later on in the flight, I saw one of the most ridiculous and incredible and beautiful things I'd ever seen. I think by far the coolest thing I've ever seen on any flight. I think it was a couple cumulous clouds, though I can't say that for sure, that weren't too big... they were more like drops of clouds than anything else, but still substantial enough to cast huge shadows on the tracts of land below. Anyway, I was looking at one, and suddenly I noticed that it was rainbow colored. Throughout its entire body. I didn't figure out exactly what the pattern was - a stripe of rainbow, or a circle? - because I was too busy just admiring it and being in awe of it. I saw a few more after the first one, and tried to take a picture of it. I don't think rainbow clouds come out very well in my camera. In either case... I guess the best way to describe it is that it looks like something out of a children's show or video game, but it was very real.

Somewhere near the coastline on my flight, I started just looking at the shapes in the ground. Geography can actually be extremely beautiful and pleasing to look at. It made me want to consider taking a course in geology, but I doubt there's too much to be said or studied concerning the beauty of geology.

Around that coastline, when we went a little further out, I looked down at the water and I noticed a lot of points of white. I couldn't tell what the hell they were. They couldn't be whitecaps because they were too stable - I could see waves on the shore, but I could see them move and change. It could have been clouds, but they looked way too solid and too distant and too attached to the water. It might have been boats, but if that were the case, there must have been 50,000 boats in this part of the water. I guess that would be really cool, but sadly, I doubt that was the case.

Peace out.

Friends

As promised, before I left, I got a word-for-word copy of the friendship poem performed by Phil and Sarah kay at the Solemn and Sparrows Spoken Word Show. Here it is:

::

P [Phil Kaye]: Hey.

S [Sarah Kay]: Hey.

P: This is it.

S: I can't believe we're finally here.

P: It's taken lots of hours

S: Lot's of late nights.
But just so you know, When you're pulling an all nighter & studying at the Scili @ 2am, I'll make the Jo's run & bring you a spicy, with.

P: If you forget your card, you can always use one of my guest credits.

S: Even when you can't be there for super smash brothers, I promise I won't take Kirby.

P: I'll be the best man at your wedding.

S: I'll always save you a spot

P: I'll never break a promise

S: I'll never lie to you

P: I'll always tell you how you really look

S: I'll never rat you out

P: I'll never keep you waiting

S: Even when all you have is an egg-salad sandwich, I'll still let you trade me for one lunchables pizza.

P: Even if the cool kids ask me to sit with them, I'll only go if there's room for two.

S: I will be the spongebob to your patrick
P: harry to your ron
S: shaggy to your scooby
P: boo boo to your yogi
S: bert to your ernie
P: beavis to your butthead
S: wallace to your grommit
P: christopher robin to your winnie the pooh

S: When they make fun of your accent, I'll take you swimming, because we all sound the same under water.

P: When you're old and can no longer remember my name, I'll meet you again & again every day.

S: The night you come out to your parents, you can come sleep over at my house.

P: When everyone knows you as the kid who pissed his pants, I'll still play handball with you.

S: I'll come visit you every week of your sentence.

P: When your dreams get shattered, I'll stay up with you to find all the pieces and tape them back together.

S: I'll always see you for the alley-oop.

P: I'll let you be the Red Power Ranger.

S: I'll let you back-cut me in line.

P: When you audition for a hundred plays, and don't get called back to a single one, and say you're no good and should just give up... I’ll be there for audition one-hundred and one.

S: When you don't have a date to prom, I'll let you take my cousin.

P: When your harddrive crashes, I will lend you my porn.

S: lennon, I will be your mccartney
P: Archie your Jughead
S: watson your sherlock
P: rosencrantz your guildenstern
S: snoop your dre
P: snoopy your woodstock
S: ben affleck your matt damon
P: raphael your leonardo
S: and your donatello
P: and your michelangelo

S: when you forget the sequence of this poem, I will ad-lib until you remember what comes next.

P: When you have to be carried out of Sex power god wearing nothing but fishnets and a solo cup, I won't put that shit on facebook.

S: I will not make fun of you for liking grey's anatomy. Or the hills. Or wicked.

P: If you die a young, tragic death, I will get a tattoo of your name across my wrist.

S: I will remember every birthday.

P: I will save every letter.

S: I will keep every secret.

P: I will march with you from Selma to Montgomery and back again, however many times it takes.

S: And I will take the hoses and the dogs standing by your side.

P: When Ellis Island tries to erase your past, I'll still always call you by your real name.

S: When you lose everything in the fire, my home will be your home.

P: When your kids are little and think you're incredible, I'll be there to remind them how lame you are.
S: When your kids are teenagers and think you're lame, I'll be there to remind them how incredible you are.

(both): Because I have seen the best of you and the worst of you and I choose both.
P: I want to share every one of your sunshines and save some for later.
S: I will tuck them in my pocket so I can give them back to you when the rains fall hard.
(both): Friend,
P: I want to be the mirror that reminds you to love yourself.
S: I wand to be the air in your lungs that reminds you to breathe easy.
P: when the walls come down,
S: when the thunder rumbles,
P: when nobody else is home.

(both): Hold my hand
P: and I promise
S: I wont let go.

::

=)

Peace out!

Home!

I'm going home! TODAY! I'm so, so very excited.

Peace out!

Your Interests Will Change!

I guess I should explain how I'm feeling about that e-mail a little more. Basically, the one thing that I love to do more than anything else just got removed from my life. I don't know what to do. Other than going home occasionally, there is nothing at Brown that I look forward to. I've been miserable about it all day, and last night I felt like crying. I honestly just don't know what the hell to do. I want to slam my fist through a wall or scream or harm small woodland animals or kick my cat or go to Waterfire and sit alone for a long time, I don't know.

I've been talking to some people recently about how I was upset that Brown didn't have the things that I really loved and really cared about - percussion, drumline, drum corps, roller hockey, competition math, anything with music at all, and then some other like home/family/friends/etc... It made me really upset, because people kept saying, "Your interest will change!" Then they laugh or smile and pat you on the back, as if you should be happy of the fact that all the beauty in life is gone.

And I was really angry at them. Who are you to tell me that my interests are fleeting? Or that my passion is so shallow and transitory?

How would you like it if I was at your wedding I stood up during the ceremony and said, "You won't love her in two years"? It's only the light of your life, relax.

I need to talk to my dad.

Peace out.

Difficult

I just recieved perhaps the most crushing e-mail of my life.

::

Hi, I hope everyone is well!

This email is being sent to those that expressed interest in the BU Winter Percussion Ensemble through the on-line interest form. If you have changed your mind since filling out the form, let me know and I can take your name off of our list. I would also ask that you pass this email along to your friends that may be interested in joining!

Staff Changes:
Last season a number of new faces were introduced to the staff. I've asked some of those new faces to take on more active roles in the ensemble.

Gabe Cobas worked great with the front ensemble last year. I'm pleased to announce that Gabe will be returning this season as the Artistic Director and Front Ensemble Arranger / Technician.

Ian Flint designed an excellent visual program for the group last year, and we hope to expand on those successes. Ian will be returning as the Visual Program Designer.

Phil Perry developed the Battery into a great marching ensemble. Phil will be returning as the ensemble's lead Visual Technician.

Chris Dufault will bring his years of marching percussion experience back to this year's ensemble as a program consultant.

Mike Barsano will continue as the ensemble administrator.

A few new faces will also be added to the team!

Matt Ramey has worked with the percussion section of the BU Marching Band for the past 2 seasons as well as many other Drum Corps and indoor percussion ensembles. As an Alumni of the Santa Clara Vanguard, and a Contemporary Writing and Production student at the Berklee College of Music, Matt will surely bring a number of fresh ideas to the ensemble as the Battery Arranger and Technician.

Many more new faces will be announced over the next few weeks! Check out the group's web page for staff bio's.

Schedule:

The Friday night, Saturday, Sunday schedule that the ensemble has used in the past has made progress difficult at times. To overcome this difficulty, the ensemble will rehearse on Tuesday night from 7:30 to 9:30, Thursday night from 7:00 to 9:00, and Saturday from 10:00 to 7:00. I know this will make it difficult or infeasible for some of you to participate, but we feel it is in the best interest of the ensemble to implement this new schedule.

Workshops:

The 2008 season will kick off on Tuesday, November 6, 2007! Attendance at these pre-audition workshops is required. The audition rehearsal will be held on Saturday, December 1, 2007. Check out the ensemble's web site for the November, December, and January schedules. The exercise packets for the Battery and Pit will be added to the web site within the next few days!

Show:

The design team has been working very hard over the past 2 months to assemble a successful show. We are currently dotting the i's and crossing the t's on the show, and an announcement

Thanks, and I look forward to seeing you on November 6th!

If you have any questions please drop me an email!

Mike "Wuzz" Wasielewski
Director
Boston University Winter Percussion Ensemble

::

Peace out.

The Picture of College

When we took our break for Education 0410B today, Dr. West decided that it was way too hot inside and we should go for class outside. It was a beautiful day, and we were all really excited about it. Our break ended a little early, which wasn't much fun, but it was okay.

Seriously, the scene was like the picture-book version of college. More specifically, the picture-book version of Brown. Twenty kids of every color and their professor - wearing cowboy boots, jeans, and a flannel collared shrit - sitting outside with no textbooks and often no shoes, talking about desegregation while sitting in a beautiful quad with yellowing leaves falling and hanging everywhere. And squirrels. There were lots of squirrels.

We were sitting in something like a circle, and Dr. West had his back to a tree. I was sitting across from him, so I could see behind him. There was another tree over his left shoulder, and there was a kid sitting there, with either a book or a laptop [can't remember which], studying or writing. It was like out of a college brochure. There was a cute squirrel on the tree on the part closest to me. There was another squirrel in the grass even closer to me, and it started to run towards the tree. Then the squirrel in the grass climbed up the tree and started chasing the other squirrel. They went around for a couple seconds - but I didn't see anything too crazy - and then, all of a sudden, one of them jumps off.

So the kid was sitting there just doing his work, and out of nowhere this squirrel catapults itself into his neck. I can't describe how incredibly hilarious it was to see this happen. Have you ever been at the beach or a park, and you're just sitting there minding your own business when someone throws something and it hits you in the head, and you're like "Ah, what the hell - a football/frisbee/tennis ball/etc.?" Well that's the exact reaction this kid was going through.

EXCEPT IT WAS A FREAKING SQUIRREL.

Just imagine. Minding your own business when you feel a nudge on your shoulder and you wonder what jerk is playing football too close to you, so you turn your head and BAM, SQUIRREL.

I can't stop laughing at the image. I wish you all could have seen it!

Peace out.

3AM

Last night was the first night in a long time that I actually had to spend working. I thought that was kind of strange - I remember a lot of nights in high school where I kind of felt like I was under the wire and I really had to be on top of things to get it all done, but here it's really only happened once so far, and that's because I kind of made it/forced myself into it.

So there's a big Applied Math project due Tuesday, and so far Max and I had really only been able to figure out what was going on in the first problem (out of four). I woke up somewhat late, went and got breakfast, and then started working on that for pretty much the rest of the day. We got up to the very last problem, but by 7PM we realized we'd reach the end of what we could teach ourselves and we'd have to call it quits for the day. In either case, that was pretty much seven straight hours of work right there, which I think it more than I have done at any other time here.

After that, I went to dinner, then to the Democracy Matters meeting, and decided I would take a break 'till 10:30 or so [it ended up being a little later than that - oops]. I did that knowing that I had 200 pages of reading to do for my Education course and then a paper to write - all before 6AM that morning. So sometime around 11:20, I think, I started the reading. I finished it sometime around 2AM, I think, and I finished my paper within half an hour. So I guess that whole ordeal really only took three hours - which isn't too bad, I don't think. Then I took a shower and went to bed sometime just before 3AM.

The good thing was that I could sleep until 10AM, and I did. So I feel fine. But I don't want to stay up that late tonight. I just want to sleep so that Friday comes faster.

Peace out!

You Have Just Witnessed the Construction of LIGHT

Peace out!

Toking Near the Third Floor Smoke Detector

From 4PM yesterday to 4AM this morning was a very, very crazy time for me. Sometime I'll write it all, hopefully, but for right now I have to go to the bathroom so I'll just talk a bit about 1AM - 4AM.

I got back into my dorm room sometime shortly after 1AM, but I can't remember exactly when. I was really, really wet because I'd been running around all night. My blue jacket is probably still wet, my socks were soaking, even my jeans were wet on like 70% of their surface area. I wanted to take them off because they were uncomfortable but I wasn't the only one in the hall so I couldn't do that very well. I went and I took a nice warm shower - but not too long 'cuz I was kind of tired - came back, got ready for bed and went to sleep. I think I might have listened to that song on my keyboard again, but I transposed it so it's in F# Lydian... I like F# Lydian but I think it sounds better in its original key, so I've put it back.

Anyway, I'm pretty sure I fell asleep sometime between 1:25AM and 1:45AM. No problem.

Then, later... I woke up. I didn't know why exactly. Then I heard a sound, and I remember thinking along the lines of: "Hrm... well, that's a funny sound. That's also a really loud sound. I don't think I like you very much, you funny loud sou-OH MY GOD OH MY GOD FIRE ALARM GET THE HELL OUT OF BED."

So that's exactly what I did when I recognized what it was. I didn't have a lot of time to think, assuming of course that it was a real fire and I was actually in danger, so I just did what I had been told to do in a fire alarm situation like this. I suppose I should mention that I sleep in my underwear, which is like, fine, it's more than the swimsuits guys wear in Europe, but I wouldn't want to be outside in front of my entire dorm in my underwear at 3AM. So, like I said, did what I was told to do - grab something to keep you warm for the night and get the hell out of the building as fast as you possibly can. I figured, what's the nearest warm thing to me I can possibly get? My comforter. So I'm in my underwear, grab my comforter, wrap it quickly around my body, bolt out the door and start hopping down the stairway towards the exit on the first floor.

As I was hopping down the stairs in my comforter, I realized that Danny was still in the room. It looked like he might not even have recognized it was a fire alarm by the time I left. I felt really bad about it and was like, God, I should have told Danny to wake up. But there was no way I was going back in for anything.

So hopping hopping down the stairs in my white feather comforter wearing only my underwear, and I get to the first floor, go through the door. As I do, I see Eric Dobson walk out of his room in his red, velvet(?) bathroom robe. I just kept running, got out the door, and stood and looked. No smoke. Probably false alarm. What can you do.

So, I should say, when I grabbed my comforter, I was pretty certain that everyone else ran the hell out of their room, they would probably grab their blankets and run, too. I was very, very wrong. I was the ONLY person with my blanket out their. Everyone else was dressed. Some people were clearly still very awake.

At some point during this ordeal, I looked at my watch. 3AM. We were out there until 3:25AM.

While I was out there, I was talking to Janine (the Minority Peer Counselor on the first floor) and Lauren (the girl who lives with Trish, across the hall and one door down). Janine said she was considering just going back in and sleeping... I don't know how, but we came upon the topic of what to take out with you when you went. Janine said she would take her computer, and I thought... what's the first thing I would take?

I realized it was my blanket. That I've had pretty much since birth. More on that later. After that, I said, I'd take my little box of memories - full of all the cards and letters and other little things I've gotten since shortly before I came here or while I was here. Janine thought that was kind of crazy. She mentioned she would take her camera, which I thought was a good idea, but I have three copies of all my pictures, so I'm currently good for now.

I realized, though, there are a lot of things in my dorm room that I would really, really hate to lose. My box of memories. I don't want to go through everything that's in there right now, but oh, how I would hate to lose that. My blanket. My roller hockey equipment. My flash drives, keys, wallet, money, peppermint patties. My camera. My posters on the wall. My pictures of all my friends. My novelty t-shirts I've had for how long now? My computer. My external hard drive. All of my CDs - not the ones of myself, just the ones I listen to. All my schoolwork. My calculator and its programs. My Rubik's Cube. The mallets mom got me for my birthday one year. My Carbondale foam-mesh hat and aviators.

Thankfully it wasn't a real fire...

Peace out!

Membership Drive

I finally started listening to NPR today in the Bee Ache Lounge (B&H lobby). It was a membership drive. I wanted to diiiieeee. But now they're doing the news so it's okay!

Peace out.

Aunt Nancy

When I was really young - I think before the age of 8 or so - my undisputed favorite relative in the world was Aunt Nancy. I found out later that her really name was actually Anne, but I never really knew her as anything other than Aunt Nancy. She was my mom's sister, a couple years older I think, who lived in Scranton. She had two kids, Leroy and Gabrielle, he in a band and she a model. I could never really understand exactly what was going on with their living situation - they lived with Aunt Nancy and not whichever uncle (I think his name is also Leroy?) was their father in a house in a fair part of Scranton, but I think they rented out the top floor of the house. I don't think they were ever too pleased with the renters, whoever they were. They had a lot of cats, including one named Barney that ONLY liked Gabrielle and hissed fiercely at anyone else, and another one that hung itself by its collar on a tree one day and Leroy found it. One of the rooms had a bunch of instruments in it for Leroy and his band; they also had a Wild West pinball machine of some sort in their basement. I remember thinking they had some stairs in their house, but thinking back, I can't remember where they went. I remember a living room connected to the band room, the kitchen, and a bedroom, which I think was Gabrielle's, all on the first floor. Later, Leroy put a pull-up bar in the doorway between the living room and the kitchen. That was when he owned the house, I think.

I don't remember a whole ton about Aunt Nancy herself, but I remember liking her a whole lot, all the time. I can't remember a time when I didn't like her. She always laughed at my jokes - even though I was just a stupid little kid - and I remember she actually made me feel like I was funny. I remember one time she was on the phone with my mom, and she asked to talk to me so I could tell her a joke, and I said, "Did you hear the one about the three deer?" She said, "No." And I said, "Deer, deer, deer!" And she laughed a lot. I mean, I thought that was a funny joke and that's why I told her, but not so many other people seemed to find it funny.

I remember I showed off to her once - in a family party of some sort at our old house at 4 Federal Farm Drive - that I could hop on one leg. I came up to her in our dining room and she asked me to show her something new, so I hopped on one leg and hopped right out of the room.

I think it was at that same party that I told her my real name was Vega. Vega was a video character in the Street Fighter II game on Sega Genesis that wore a mask and long metallic claws who I thought was incredibly awesome. She went along with it.

I remember when we were a little older and we were staying in Avalon, she got a trailer and a spot in a nearby park for the summer. We thought that was pretty much the coolest thing ever. We would go and swim in the fresh water (?) lake in the park, with a plastic dock of some sort and sandy beaches, while her and my mom talked. I can't remember much about the trailer itself. I remember one time, though, we went to a vending machine and I got a tiny piece of gold jewelry. It wasn't real gold, of course. Plastic. I don't know much else about it, but I think it had a chain of some sort attached to it. I wonder where it went.

I can't remember the last time I saw Aunt Nancy. I'm pretty sure it was at her trailer near the beach.

Sometime before the end of 2nd grade - and I really can't tell you much more about it than that - Aunt Nancy got sick. Very sick. She was up in Scranton and we were back at home - I can remember I was in the 4 Federal Farm Drive house, so that's how I know it was 2nd grade or earlier. We didn't really know what was wrong, definitely not as kids who were in like 8th grade or lower, but I don't think any of the adults really knew what was wrong either. I remember it was a pretty confusing time for me. I can't even remember exactly how long it went on. I remember thinking it was a long time. Though I was little then, so anything seemed long.

Sometime the summer before she got sick, my mom and Aunt Nancy got in a fight. I never learned what it was about, but I remember picking up that it was pretty serious. I'm not sure my mom and Nancy ever really made up before she got sick, but I do know that my mom went to see her once at her trailer after the fight and said that Nancy was smiling and dancing and happy to see her, so I'm pretty sure they were okay with each other.

Anyway, like I said, Nancy was sick. We didn't know what was wrong and I don't think anyone else did. At some point during this whole ordeal, my mom went up to see Nancy in the hospital. She told me later - I think she even told me when I was young - that when she was there, Aunt Nancy said - sickly, softly - "Oh... it must be pretty serious if they brought you here...?"

My mom came home eventually. I can't remember when. I can't remember what I knew when she came home versus what I knew when she left. I know that I heard stories of Aunt Nancy being on some sort of breathing apparatus, and something about her being very sedated, and something about pain but I'm not really sure what, and I think something about appendicitis but I'm not really sure, and I think something about smoking but I'm not really sure about that either.

I got a phone call from my dad sometime that school year. Or maybe it wasn't a phone call, and he told me in real life. I know that somehow I knew before Jessica, so maybe she had gone to school, I can't really remember. In any case, my dad told me that Aunt Nancy died. I didn't really have any reaction. I'm pretty sure my response was actually, "Oh, okay." Looking back, I feel horrible and I wonder what the hell was wrong with me. I was stupid and I'm sorry.

Later that day, I was in the kitchen with Jessica. We used to hang out sometimes when we were both home from school, Dad was at work, and Mom was out somewhere getting Ryan or something. I remember we were talking about something, then stopped. To end the silence, I said, word for word, flatly, passingly, "Oh, by the way, Aunt Nancy died." Again, I was stupid and I'm sorry. I can't remember how Jessica responded when I told her. I wouldn't have understood even if I saw it, I guess. I don't think I was looking. She tells me now that she reacted extremely strongly, but I can't remember that.

She had a funeral and a viewing in Scranton sometime after that. I remember thinking that I would have had to have gone all the way up to Scranton, all the way back, missed school, and saw some family that I didn't think was very much fun, so I didn't want to go and my dad said that was fine. I was in like 1st or 2nd grade. Again, I was stupid, and I'm sorry, and I understand if you hate me for not going. I wish I had gone.

Peace out.

Locks

I'm pretty sure that the locks to Alumnae Hall were changed overnight. I could get in there one or two days ago, but when I went today - at first I was talking on the phone to Dad about my bike - I could NOT get the keys to go in. I figured it was just because I had low dexterity with my one hand, and maybe I was actually just trying the same key over and over again... but even when I hung up I couldn't get it to work. It would NOT go in.

So I tried the other side door, then the other side door, and I heard someone talking and thought it might be a security officer who might know about lock changes. It turned out it was a caterer on the phone with her son, but she actually hung up on him to call security and ask. They weren't really a help - I'll have to talk to the music department at some point. I suppose I could just ask at orchestra tonight...? In either case, I would be pretty upset if I couldn't practice in Alumnae Hall anymore.

Also, my bike was stolen. I headed out to class today around 10:20AM or so, walked to Smitty B where I keep my bike, and didn't see it there. I thought I might be crazy, and that it wasn't actually stolen, so I probably just left it somewhere else. The most likely locations were Faunce House [mail room] and The Ratty, so I walked to those places on my way to my 10:30AM class [Applied Math 33]. It wasn't in any of the bike racks that I saw. For some reason I was still convinced that it wasn't stolen, though.

So after my class, I went back to Smitty B to check if my bike was still there, or for one other thing... to see if my lock was still there. When I got there, I started to make out what I thought... yes. I saw my lock laying on the ground, sawed essentially in half. My bike was definitely stolen. I called campus security and filed a report with a police officer. Later, Bekah told me she had an article about bike theft in the Brown Daily Herald [campus paper] today that I should read. My dad told me it was just one of those things that happens and I'll just have to get a new one.

Is it weird that I was like completely apathetic about both of these things when they happened...?

Peace out.

Elevator

Have you ever thought about what you were passing by in elevators? When you step in, wait, press a button, go down, and step out... what were you missing on all those floors? A kid sitting in his room waxing philosophic about elevators and listening to recordings of himself playing piano; a group of kids on the 3rd floor gathering together and freaking out about their physics problem set due tomorrow; a girl with benign cancer losing a friend over the phone because they simply refuse to believe that she actually has cancer and she can't stand the accusation of dishonesty; two people unsure of how they feel about each other sitting awkwardly together with some sort of academic pretenses to settle the awkwardness; a group of water polo players trying to teach themselves the Soulja Boy dance as they watch the video on YouTube over and over again and get drunk; a brilliant pair of roommates sitting by each other, one whistling, one listening to classical music nearly endlessly; someone dreaming about home; someone dreaming about college; someone who can't fall asleep; someone watching The Daily Show and eating a bowl of cereal like they used to do at home; someone sketching in the shower for their crazy visual arts teacher; a scattering of kids throughout a number of rooms rooting for their baseball teams; two strangers telling each other about the worst weekends they can remember; two kids having sex in the dark in their strange and new something-like-home; someone writing a love letter and someone writing a poem and someone writing a song and someone writing the score they swear will change your life.... then the elevator stops. And did you notice it?

Peace out.

Points

I never really liked fighting with teachers over points on tests or projects or anything. It always kind of felt like a hyper-public and therefore acceptable form of cheating to me.

Today, we got our midterms back in Math 18 with Sergei Treil. I did a little bit better than I thought I did, but there was one question - I think question #4 - where I thought I deserved some points back. I'll try to explain...

Basically, the question was about a particle in motion. It gave you acceleration, and then you had to find the velocity by integrating the acceleration function, and then find the position by integrating the velocity function. Each time you integrate, you have to make sure that your new equation lines up with the initial conditions. In this case, the velocity at Time = 0 was -(1/2)i. When you integrated the acceleration function, that condition was already satisfied - you didn't need to do any work to get it. So I just left it how it was. Once you got that, you had to integrate to get the position function, with the intial condition that the position at Time = 0 was (0, .25). Once again, this was exactly the answer you got when you integrated - I didn't need to do any work to correct for this initial condition; it was already done for me automatically.

So I got the position function and went from there, solved the problem and got the answer right. When I got the test back, though, the grader had taken off four points. I couldn't figure out exactly why, but it looked like it might be something to do with intial conditions.

I feel like I need to say something about this so I don't seem like a hypocrite. I wasn't fighting for points just to fight him or to get him to change my grade. I only said anything because I knew that I understood the material and the question and that I - in my head - did the things he had wanted us to do on paper. I felt like I truly deserved those points, and that's the only reason I fought for them. There was another point I could have probably fought for and gotten back if I really wanted, but he gave me another point somewhere on the test that I didn't deserve, so it would be unfair to fight for that one. But this one I actually, really deserved, and that's the only reason I brought it up to him.

I kind of felt bad about it though. Deep down, I knew that I deserved those points, and in the end I think he agreed to give them to me, but I felt bad because I got the impression that he didn't understand that, and it was more just to get me to lay off of him than because I really understood it. I'd prefer that it was the second way, but ... I don't know. I don't know if it's better to get what is right in a wrong way, or to have something be wrong but at least not go about fixing it the wrong way.

Peace out.

- - -

I don't like it here. I'm really not happy here. There isn't anything here that I'm excited for and there are very few things that I care about or would miss if I left.

Peace.

Tableslipping

I realized yesterday when I was talking to Gina that I don't think I ever explained "tableslipping" to anyone who wasn't at Brown. I feel like I should do that.

So whenever you go to lunch or dinner at either the Ratty or the V-Dub, and you sit at a table, you're probably going to find a whole load of pieces of paper on your table. They're all pretty much exactly one-fourth of a regular sheet of white paper. They're called "tableslips" and any Brown-recognized group can use them to advertise just about whatever they want. The Math Department uses tableslips to advertise special lectures that professors are giving just for fun; a capella groups use them to advertise their performances that night; some groups use them just to raise awareness about something happening on campus such as illegal hiring practices; some frats use them to advertise parties; etc.

I think tableslips are one of the few things I actually like about Brown. It's kind of nice to know that every time you sit down to lunch or dinner, you're pretty much going to have opportunities forced down your throat unless you keep your eyes closed the entire time. Actually, I think I'm often more excited about tableslips that I am about any other part of lunch or dinner.

Oh, right, as for the rules of tableslipping: They must be 1/4th of an 8.5" x 11" piece of white paper and lie flat on the table, printed in black ink on white paper. You can only put tableslips on the tables at certain times right before meals, and they are cleared inbetween meals by the dining staff. The times to put them down are: 7 - 7.5 AM, 10.5 - 11AM, 3.5 - 4PM [Ratty], and 4 - 4.5PM [V-Dub]. You can't put them down during special dining events. All tableslips must have a Brown University recognized student group name on the tableslip, and they cannot contain advertisements or coupons for commercial establishments.

Other than that... you can do pretty much whatever the hell you want, and groups often do.

Peace out.

Cold

It's become pretty cold here pretty quickly. Last week, there were days when I would ride around campus on my bike and the weight and heat of my computer and my books against my back would make me sweat just a tiny bit.

It's pretty clear that that won't be happening anymore. It's cold enough now that the huge air vent in the bathroom isn't a comfort, but an annoyance. It's cold enough now to not only sleep under your sheet, but under your feather comforter and covers, too. It's cold enough for northerners to wear hats and jackets and southerners to fear stepping outside.

Perhaps the last Waterfire that I will ever see is this Wednesday. There's one more on October 26th, but I'll be home that weekend (!). There are more in the spring, but I'll be in the drumline or maybe somewhere else crazy just about every weekend in the spring. It will probably be very cold, and I don't know if I can find anyone to go with me.

Peace out.

Rosalind, the Prodigy, in Black, with a Tissue

When I came to Brown, one of the things I wanted to do was join the orchestra. I was really really excited about it because I thought it would be just like concert band in high school, except with kids who were probably more devoted and more skilled - they are older, after all.

During some of the first days that I was here, I went to find the Orwig Music Building, which is quite a hike away from the rest of the life on campus. It's on, I think, Hope St. and Young Orchard St., which is not really a fun place to go because it's very removed. I remember, the first times I went, I didn't take my bike and that made it take even longer. The first few times I went, it was also closed, and I was very upset.

Eventually, perhaps the first day of class, I made it to the music building, walked in, and asked to talk to the director of the orchestra. The secretary told me his name was Paul and to check his office upstairs. So I went the spiral stairs in the Orwig Music Building - which looks like a very old, very nice house - and looked a Paul Someone or P. Someone. I didn't find any, but while I was up there I just happened to knock on a random door - even though it was dark behind the door - to see if I could talk to someone upstairs and see if they could help me.

I walked in and asked, "Hey, do you know where the conductor of the orchestra is?" And he said, "That would be me." He seemed really nice and really outgoing, and I said something to the effect of oh, you're Paul? And he said, No, I'm actually Eric Culver, I'm the guest conductor. Paul, it turns out, has been on vacation for the past few months and would be out most of this semester too, so Eric is taking his place.

I asked him if there was room for percussionists in the orchestra, and he said that there was, and I should just go put my name on the audition sheet. Auditions! I was very excited, except I had nothing to audition on... oh well. I remember I put my name on the audition sheet, missed my audition, then tried again, missed it again, and then finally got it on a Sunday. I just kind of played some scales and hoped for the best. I suppose it was actually good enough to get me in.

At one point I talked to Eric Culver about himself a little bit because it seemed like there was a lot to learn from him. I think he has a doctorate in Conducting... at first I couldn't believe there was such a program/accredation system, so I asked him to explain it to me. And he talked to me about all the different parts of conducting - first of all, the actual act of doing it, but also how to pick songs, work with your musicians, find the best musicians, train them, how to organize the mechanics of the orchestra, and of course mountains of music theory. I walked away agreeing that it was definitely a legitimate degree program, and pretty confident in his abilities.

That was at the social/introductory meeting for the orchestra... there wasn't a whole lot I remember about that day, other than it was kind of awkward and I didn't really like it a whole lot. I could barely even rem.... actually, I don't think there is a single name I remember from that meeting.

So anyway, I was in the percussion section. There are, I think, five people in the percussion section. The first one that I knew was Viday, whose name I'm still not sure I'm spelling correctly. He's Indian, and a friend of Abhay, who is my Meiklejohn [peer] Advisor. He's hoping to go to school for percussion performance, so I'm pretty sure he's amazing, but I've never really seen him rock out. Apparently last year he performed a timpani concerto which was pretty incredible, but again, I missed that. In either case, he's really nice and extremely modest about his abilities. Pretty much everyone in the band seems to adore him as soon as they meet him. The very first day he offered me a timpani part on Zampa, which I played once and then decided I didn't really like, so I think he took over. He also memorized exactly where I should be playing in the Rachmaninoff piece before I had ever even looked at my music.

The next one that I came to know was Nat Seleen, the president of the orchestra. He's a pretty big white male with black hair, senior year, who smiles all the time. He is always smiling. It's incredible. He's really very nice, and very agreeable, and I think people generally like him and think he does a good job of managing the orchestra. It's very interesting, though, to see him be so smiling and agreeable all the time and then talk to him in private and hear him - still smiling and being agreeable - say a word like "fuck" or "shit."

The next guy I knew Ojus - not sure I'm spelling correctly - an Indian guy from Pennsylvania who knows Liz DiCocco (my chem TA from PGSS). He said he always wanted to do drum corps, but he either didn't think he was good enough, or started to think he didn't have enough time. I thought it was really sad, and even sadder that he never knew about All-Age Corps like the Buccaneers... I suppose they'll still be around when he's older though, so he can probably do one when he'd like to if he's still into it.

The last guy - other than me - is Aaron, a junior in a topology class that's killing him, with a large afro-like haircut, glasses, and he's very nice. He's also in Wind Symphony and percussion ensemble and introduced me to their meetings, but I didn't really dig what they were doing so I backed out...

Anyway, as far as orchestra goes, my part sucked. I didn't like it. I had 867 measures of rest in a 25 minute-long song. I'm going to quit this Tuesday. I actually tried to quit the second week, but they asked me to play in this Rachmaninoff song [Rhapsodie, Variations on a Theme of Paganini], and I couldn't say no to Eric.

I think the most interesting part of my orchestra experience was Rosalind Rhee, then the concerts...

So for Rachmaninoff, the piece is really a 25-minute piano solo with an orchestra playing somewhere in the back. The soloist we have is Rosalind Rhee. I can't explain to you how good she is. I really can't even compare her to someone like myself or Nicki or Susan Lin because she's so good that it's not even worth the comparison. It's... she's simply not on the same level. I don't even care if I like what she's playing, I just like listening to her play. I did end up liking Rachmaninoff, though.

So yeah... the other day as we were getting ready for the concert, I saw Rosalind walk by. She always wears black - I don't think I've ever seen her wearing anything but black - and she's Asian and has black hair, so all my memories and pictures of her in my mind are very, very dark. Like I said, she walked past me before the concert as I was sitting in the percussion cabinet txting or talking to someone, and I don't know why, but I was kind of in awe. I think it's because she was wearing a trenchcoat - black, as always - combined with her piano awesomness, of course. It was like something out of The Matrix. She looks kind of like the girl in The Grudge, only scared instead of scary. I can still see in her face how she must have looked when she was little.

Her mom was also there with her, which I thought was adorable. Rosalind must be 21 years old by now, a senior, ready to go into the world on her own, and her mother - dressed totally in white - still came to see both of her shows. She sat with her before the show for a long time in a somewhat private room. I guess I just thought that was interesting. I wonder if many other parents would have come.

The other thing that I've noticed about Rosalind is that when she plays, she doesn't look at the music. Ever. This is a 25 minute song - I know, that's not that impressive - but this is so difficult that I could... wow, I don't think I could ever memorize it. I do not think I am capable. But she did. The first night, she showed up and didn't even look at the music except to give measure numbers to other people.

She also always has a tissue with her when she plays. I don't know what it's for. It could be for sweat or tears, I could never tell. After her first concert, I'm pretty sure she was crying. After her second, I think she was sweating. Maybe it's both. I don't know. I don't think I'll ever see her again.

I think she also made the only mistake I've ever seen her make at the end of her piece during the second concert. Thankfully we all recovered.

The one thing that I think I will miss about orchestra - other than Rosalind, the prodigy, in black, with a tissue - is the orchestra warming up. I know that sounds really stupid, but it's really something to be experienced. When I was cleaning up from the second/last concert, I stood in the back of the room before going behind doors so I could listen to them warm up. They tune on an A instead of a Bb.

It's hard to describe, but when the leader gives the signal and the high instruments come in and then it goes down further and further and the basses sweep in and it just fills the room like you've never heard before, god... you'd swear a tidal wave was rising up somewhere just outside the building and you're convinced that if only the orchestra would play loud enough and hard enough those strings could move time backwards if they wanted to.

Peace out.