Turbidity!

So Wednesday morning when I was putting water in my hair, I realized that the water was very, very cloudy. I actually refused to use the sink once I filled it with water because it was so disgusting. At first I just thought there was something gross lining the sink I was using, but I tried one or two other sinks and I figured it's probably the water because the same thing happened with them.

At about 3:30 that afternoon, Bill was sitting in the room playing football on XBOX or something along those lines when he got a text message and then said, "Holy crap!" And I asked, huh, what? And he said, "I just got a message from PSU Text saying not to drink water from the sinks or anything."

((o_O)) crap. There was something wrong with the water. About half an hour later I got the same text that Bill did (good thing it wasn't something important, haha!) saying not to drink the water due to high levels of turbidity (cloudiness) from overflowing water in the recent rainstorms.

So ever since then the campus has been going CRAZY about this whole turbid water thing. There are signs everywhere telling you not to drink the water - on every entrance to every dorm on campus. There are bags and papers posted on drinking fountains reminding you not to use them. Kids got text messages and it's posted on PSU's website. The cafeteria's stopped serving water and soda and ice tea and any other drink that uses water and started bringing in cartloads of bottled water and canned sodas. Milk must be about 5x more popular now than ever before. There are bags over the silverware containers in the cafeterias so that you don't use silverware washed with this water - instead we have plastic utensils. We even have plastic cups and bowls and plates. They posted papers all over the soda machines and everything as well, just in case we forget.

I filled the sink up yesterday and today to see how it looked and honestly it looked perfectly clear, but I don't think anyone's gotten official word that the warning's been lifted.

Anyway, just thought anyone reading might find it interesting that the university has been operating without tap water for almost 48 hours now.

Peace out!

STRATFORD!!!

So this Saturday, I'm competing with the PSU Indoor Drumline at the WGI Regional in Stratford, Connecticut. I know this might not seem like a big deal to some people but I've been waiting for something like this for about three years and I am VERY EXCITED.

I don't really know what to describe about it. Back in Garnet Valley we all kind of knew that we would never score very well or succeed other than having fun and trying to do the best with the crap we were given. With PSU at Stratford this year, it's totally different - I kind of get the feeling that how well we place is actually up to ME. Like I have some control over how well we do and if I do my absolute best, maybe it'll make a bit of difference and push us to the top. We actually have a rockin' show and I think we can do well if we all try hard enough - that's a huge difference from GV, where we knew that no matter how hard we tried, our book still sucked. Not to mention, "doing well" with PSU means "Winning Independent Open and moving up to Independent World," which is very different from the definition at GV which was either "Coming in not-last in the lowest school class" or "Doing okay in the lowest school class and eventually moving out of it."

I know it sounds like it but I'm not bashing GV's line. I think all you kids are super talented, I just think we were given crappy shows year after year, sadly.

Well so anyway. We have to pack the truck this Friday sometime around 1PM. We've never packed the truck with all of our equipment this year so far, and when I talked to Jason on Sunday, he said he wasn't sure if we'd be able to do it, and no one would get UHaul to give us anything so he was sort of upset about that. But I talked to him today and he said he thinks he's got it under control.

I don't know exactly how I'm getting up there yet. I talked to Brian Cuce and he said that Dan Rutherford will be sending out carpool information tomorrow for PSU kids... I just hope they don't expect me to drive. The drive from here to Connecticut will probably be about four hours... I hope it's with some cool people, or some cool music, or at least through some pretty parts of Pennsylvania. I think it'll be good no matter who I'm with though, pretty much.

So we'll probably get to CT sometime around 10PM on Friday night. We're either going to unpack and go to sleep, or we'll just go to sleep right away. We'll be sleeping in some high school near Brunnell [the HS where we perform] on a gym floor, most likely. I don't have a sleeping bag, so I don't really know what I'm going to do. I guess I could bring towels? They're pretty compact. I don't know. Anyway, the next day we'll undoubtedly wake up really early, go to our instruments, and practice. We have our first show sometime around 1:20PM, so we'll have to pack up, go to Brunnell, play, and then we have to pack up and come back to the other high school. Then we'll practice again, pack up for our second show at Brunnell, play, then pack up again. At that point, it'll be about 9 or 9:30PM, and we'll be in CT. Instead of getting us a motel or hotel or house or school floor or rides home, the drumline is just releasing responsibility and telling us to go home. For a while I didn't know that was coming, so I thought I would just take a train home the next day or something, but that messed everything up so now mom and dad are coming to pick me up after watching the show that night.

OH MY GOD. I'M PERFORMING WITH ONE OF THE BEST LINES IN WGI INDEPENDENT OPEN. I'll probably even be on wgi.org a couple days after the show. This is so exciting. I hope we do well >_<

Peace out!

Compression Shorts

Yes. It means *EXACTLY* what you think it means.

So Penn State drumline, unlike all you losers at home in Garnet Valley, actually has their uniforms already, and would have had them in time for the first show we actually competed in if it hadn't been for the weather. We still got them before our first actual show, and due to schedule changes we got them on a rehearsal weekend too, so we could check ourselves out in them and fix what we needed to before we had to rush on the floor to perform.

I guess overall they're not too bad. The battery's uniforms are multicolored, with red, blue, and grey mostly if I remember corrected. I remember one of the snare drummers - I think we call him Bryce - held up his uniform's pants part and said "Oh my god, I'm wearing a sun dress." It did kind of look like that. The bottom piece goes all the way up and straps around your shoulders, and with those colors, it did look quite like a sundress. You have to step into them and pull them all the way up your body exactly as they are - no zippers, no buttons, nothing. Just step right in.

The tops only go down to about the bottom of your ribs, and they're the same colors for the battery. For some reason these have a zipper in the back - I think that's probably to help the battery with their harnesses but I'm not exactly sure, the zipper seems unnecessary. Anyhow, the tops have seams that pop out a little bit and sweep around your rib, basically. It kind of makes a hemicircle with the center at the far side of your fifth rib and the circle reaches out to your sternum. The girls in the pit were complaining about this because our uniforms are all black, silver, and gray, and the color and design together accentuates one side and sort of downplays the other, and they thought they looked funny. I didn't really think so but I didn't really look. I thought the pit uniforms looked good overall.

There's one thing about our uniforms though. They're very, very, very tight. Extremely formfitting and custom tailored. You can see the outline of my abs through my uniform, even though I don't even have notably defined abs. Thankfully the color and the sweeping design sort of hides my freaky chest thing, I was a little concerned about that.

However... it does not hide what we in the drumline like to call "your package." In fact, it accentuates it. It's ridiculous. Keith put on his uniform and we all swore he was smuggling a small animal in his pants [that's NOT a compliment]. Tollie was sitting against the wall and Keith came out in his uniformed glory, right near Tollie's face, and exclaimed "Hey Tollie!" and she just about died. Keith is an extreme example. Generally, for thinner people, it was less of a problem. Myself, Rod, and Zach are probably the smallest-built guys on the line and for us it wasn't much of an issue as it was for larger-built guys, but it was still an issue that we're going to have to deal with.

At one of the practices - the week we were supposed to play at CB West but instead had rehearsal - we were talking about our uniforms. Cass asked if they were going to require that we wear compression shorts, to which Brett [our director] said that yes, we would have to. For some reason I thought that wouldn't apply to me and I just though, feh, I'll be okay without them. But once I put on my uniform I knew that I would definitely have to get some. So I asked Cass where to get compression shorts, or if they were basically just UnderArmor's underwear brand, and he said yeah, just go to Wal*Mart and it'll be with the rest of the UnderArmor.

Today, reluctantly, I began my search in Wal*Mart for compression shorts. I walked in and looked around for a few minutes, but didn't find anything that looked like UnderArmor or compression on my own, but a woman working their quickly noticed I looked lost and asked if I needed help, and I said I was looking for UnderArmor. Wal*Mart doesn't actually sell UnderArmor, but a rip-off brand called Athletic Works, so I just looked at that, but they didn't really have anything that looked like (compression) shorts. I figured this store would HAVE to have it, so I kept looking around.

It was terrible. I had to look at like EVERY pack of men's underwear there was. I wanted to cry. I've never looked at so many half-naked men in my life, and it was terrible. To make it worse, did you know that they basically make male thongs now? They were on a rack with all the things that looked something like underwear for atheltic purposes, and then I saw those and I just wanted to crawl under a rock and stop living.

So I kept looking around, looking for UnderArmor, looking for anything that looked like athletic garments, looking for compression shorts, looking for someone to help me, anything. It took like twenty minutes and I didn't find anything I thought I was looking for and NO ONE came around that entire time to see if anyone in the men's section needed help. I didn't want to go to the women's section or the electronics section or anything to ask for help with this, but eventually I had to go over to the changing room to ask for help.

The woman there was very very short, with short gray hair, talking on the phone. She asked me what I needed but I didn't know if she was talking to me or the person on the phone. After I figured it out, I said, "Hey, I'm on a drumline and I wanted to know if you had compression shorts we need?" And she said, "Muscle shirts? Yeah, let me show you." To which I said, "No, no, compression shorts." I wanted to add on "...for my balls," but I didn't.

She took me to the same old woman that had shown me the Atheltic Works things before. I swear to god she did NOT understand what I was asking. I had asked her the first time for UnderArmor because I didn't want to say "Hey, I need to squeeze my private parts against my body for long periods of time and still have free hands, could you show me underwear that does this?" but I think she took that as I just wanted to find UnderArmor. So I kept trying to tell her, No, no, I'm not looking for UnderArmor, they clearly don't have it, I just need compression shorts, I just need those, do you know if you have any? And she kept showing me their stupid UnderArmor rip-off stuff. Eventually she did find shorts, but they were definitely not was I was looking for.

So I have a show this weekend in Connecticut for WGI and I am still compression shortsless.

In conclusion, on a scale of helpfulness from 0 to 10, I hate Wal*Mart.

Peace out.

Ice Scraper

I swear that just about every time I've had drumline rehearsal so far this year, when I came to the car, it was covered in snow. Well, actually, for the first couple practices and maybe one after that, I rode my bike to the Blue Band Building, but then I figured out pretty quickly that that was a terrible idea and I should drive. One time I got a ride with Keith, who also took Mailbox, Emily, Justin, and Adam, but then I got access to a car on my own and that was much more convenient, so I just went with that.

The problem with that was that it was Ryan's car, which first of all is enormous, and second of all DOES NOT CONTAIN AN ICE SCRAPER. This was a very, very big problem, because it's snowed about 75% of the days so far here, so every Saturday, there's snow on the car that you have to get off. I remember the first time, I tried to clear it off with my hands. I usually wear a t-shirt, my blue jacket, and my big black AE jacket, and I thought that cleaning the snow off with my hands would be reasonable. It was certainly not. First of all, there's a slit in my AE jacket sleeves to make the whole button thing work, so snow gets in there when you try to clean it with your hands. Second, I don't know if you've ever just stuck your hands in snow for a minute at a time, but it hurts. Extremely, extremely quickly. After about a minute I could barely feel my fingers. I actually had to just put them in my mouth to get feeling back in them. After that, I opened up the car and found some stupid plastic container that was sort of rigid and cleaned the car with that - you know, the kind of plastic container a pair of scissors or a CD player would have come in that's impossible to open on your own. So after a long, long time, I finally cleaned the car with that.

The next time I went to practice, I had the same problem. Snow and ice all over the windshield and no ice scraper in sight. I wanted to ask other people near me if I could borrow one, but there were either no people or I was embarrassed, I forget which. In either case, I decided the stupid plastic thing wasn't working, but I still wanted something rigid, so I used my drumline binder - thank god I listened to directions and got myself a binder, right? So I started using that to clean and thought it'd be okay since all the pages are in plastic protectors. It did an okay job, but after I finished I took a look at it and was just like.... aww crap. The cardboard that strengthens the front and back was soaked and pretty much still ruined, and snow/water got into the plastic page protectors and ruined some of the corners of my pages. But oh well.

Later, I got an ice scraper. Finally! All my problems would be solved and I could remove the eight inches of accumulation without a problem, right? No, not at all. Once I started doing it, I realized that was no effective way to use it without getting your hands on the snow, which lead to once again having my hand in snow for a minute straight, me losing feeling, and sticking my hands in my mouth to try to get feeling back. I think this was actually the case when I drove home last week because drumline was cancelled though... Oh well. Still drumline related in some sense. Count it.

It wasn't until JUST TODAY that I *FINALLY* got everything under control. T-shirt, jacket, other jacket, ice scraper, and mittens [no, not the pink mittens, ones for guys]. And I cleaned off the car almost without a problem. Some snow still got in my socks and that's sort of a pain, but it's not a big deal - I actually have an extra pair of black socks with me. I wanted to go to my room and change, but I saw Bill in the lobby before I left and he didn't take his key, so I just gave him mine... and the room is locked so I'm locked out and can't get socks.

Also, I went to practice an hour early today. I swear the schedule said 9:00 was the start time but I guess I was wrong. So that's why I'm here writing this.

Peace out!

Baby's First Speeding Ticket

The ride to and from Penn State usually takes me about two hours and forty five minutes. To be honest, I usually don't speed that much - generally not more than like 15mph over the speed limit. Mom and Dad are always really surprised at how fast I get there, but that's just because I don't have to stop for food and/or to pee every twenty minutes, so if you think about it, a 180 mile trip should take a little less than three hours if you're average speed limit is 65 and you're going maybe 10-15mph over that.

I see a lot of people going really, really fast, though. I've seen people going 90, 95, 100, 105 miles per hour as they pass me. There was a little black car on my way home once that stayed at 95mph for as long as I could see it. There was a red Lancer on my way back up this weekend that was going somewhere between 95 and 105 for as long as I could see it [until it got backed up by traffic and I felt vindicated going slower than it].

So anyway. I left at about 3:24 and I looked at my clock at about 5:24 and though, okay, it's been two hours and I am probably a half an hour or so away, I guess this was a pretty good trip. So I kept driving - I was on the two lane section of 322 West just before you get to the part where the trucks have to put on their lights, stay in the right lane, and only go 20mph for 3 miles. I was singing, I think, and I came down a hill. There was a car in front of me going exactly as fast as I was, and I believe a car behind me, too. Then I saw a cop car on the right side of the road put on his lights and pull out. I was pretty sure it wasn't me - I wasn't watching my speed, but I wasn't going any ridiculous speed, not any faster than anyone around me, so I figured there must be some crazy going 95 about to whiz by and he was going after him. Instead, he pulled out and pulled up behind me. I couldn't believe it. Really? Okay.

I'm afraid of pulling over on highways - probably more afraid of that than getting a speeding ticket - because I'm afraid someone will hit me and kill me, especially if it's on the downslope of a hill. I didn't know whether to pull to the left or right, so I signaled with my hand and he pointed to his passenger side so I pulled over and stopped. I don't remember if I put my emergency lights on or not - probably not, I like never do.

I was sort of afraid of the cop. From all those ACLU videos I thought he was going to accuse me of smoking pot or selling meth or ask to search the car or ask me to get out or pat me down or something like that and then arrest for me having an ice scraper in the back seat or something. Instead he just came up and said that he got me with radar going 76 in a 55 zone, so I would be getting a traffic citation and then I was free to go. He went back to his car after I gave him my license, insurance, and registration.

I'm pretty sure at that point I texted Gina that I was getting a speeding ticket. She got back to me really really quickly and asked how bad it was, but I just said I didn't know yet. I didn't think 21mph over in a 55mph zone would be that bad. My camera is always in my car's console when I make that drive, and I realized that the sunset was really pretty. I put it on color accent and picked the orange near the top of the mountains and took a couple pictures. Looking back I should have taken them as panoramic shots, but I was a little nervous.

Shortly after that he came back - my window was all the way down the whole time, and I can't remember if my doors were locked or not. He gave me the ticket and all my papers back and said I could go. I looked at the ticket - $160 !!!

I'd like to take a minute to reflect on how ridiculous this whole thing is. First of all, PA doesn't even have a penalty for going 1-5mph over the speed limit, so they already admit it's really not even a speed limit. Furthemore, when's the last time anyone went down that highway with a speed limit 55mph going less than 65mph? What if someone was going 68mph? would they be arrested? So let's assume the realistic speed limit is 65mph. So I was going 11mph over the limit. Okay. Whatever. I'll take that. But $160? That's ridiculous. I could understand if I was driving wrecklessly, or on my cell phone, or drunk, or something like that, but I wasn't. I just don't really see the crime part of speeding. Oh well.

When I pulled back onto the highway, I think I forgot to use my blinker and I was afraid he would pull me over again. I went to get gas because I was pretty low - it was a really sketchy gas place where you had to go inside, give them your credit card, fill up, and then go back in later, and it didn't feel very secure at all. I took some pictures with my ticket while I was there to celebrate my very first time screwing up my life (!).

I looked my ticket over a little bit later, after talking to my dad about it. (He said it wasn't a big deal, the money's not an issue even though I offered to pay, we just have to make sure I don't get too many points on my license or anything.) I thought it was ridiculous though, because in the part where it tells how much money I have to give it says:

Fine: 67.00
EMS: 10.00
MCARE: 40.00
COSTS: 33.00
J.C.P./A.T.J.: 10.00

??? Emergency Medical Services? Medical Care? I didn't require any of that... I don't really understand why I had to pay $50 for it, or why there were $33 worth of costs incurred by the state when they gave me that ticket. Really?

I realized now, looking over it, that the time of the ticket was 1745. I was a little disappointed when I read that to think that he probably rounded.

Peace out.

A Few Sentences from my English Paper

When I sit at my piano with my Christmas lights on I can feel all the good things just flow into me, things like driving at night and Smithbridge Road and candles and bonfires and rivers with blue water and the perfect wave, the perfect note, the perfect song; NPR and Tastykakes and hermit crabs and red lights and she-likes-me-back and the interplay of rhyme and rhythm and running your fastest mile and baby books and parents and children and friends and being in love; memories and futures and shutterbugs and Orion and seeing Haley’s Comet once in your life and winning both showcases and solving your first Rubik’s Cube and sunrise on the beach and staying up talking way too late and kittens and first kisses giving you butterflies, opened eyes so you can see her smile because she is happy to be with you in a field by a stream and wondering if maybe, yes, she does feel the same way after all these years of thinking no! she is so far above me; teacher and student crying on the last day because they actually care and crying over loss but at least there was something in the world good enough to care about losing in the first place; hugs and heartbeats and sleeping in on snow days and being young and believing you’re invincible and having time and being alive. I know that sentence was long and that you probably won’t believe me that these all just come into me when I play my piano, but I promise they do. And if those things aren’t what define home, then I don’t know what is.

Peace out.

Lighter II

My lighter broke. First it wouldn't spark to ignite, then I toyed with it trying to get it to work, and the thumb piece broke. About half the fluid was left. I put it in my memory box.

Peace out.

Missed

I'm often overwhelmed with sadness and regret when I think about all the things I never wrote down.

Peace out.

Synthesis 004: Souderton

I went to Souderton, I think, three but possibly four of the seasons that I did drumline. I remember the first year, it was one of the first competitions, and it seemed impossibly far away. We spent the entire day there and we were all exhausted. I think that was the time that I pretty much fell asleep next to Sarah Cory on the bus and that started the joke about me "sleeping with" all the girls in the drumline. This was my freshman year, when our show was The Devil Went Down to Georgia, and we lost every single competition we went to. I remember what the school looked like - for some reason, I have an image of it in my head as very thin but very long. I know this can't possibly be the case but that's how I remember Souderton. I also remember when I was sitting and watching other drumlines perform, one of the snare drummers from Souderton started talking to me. He was really nice, but I couldn't remember his name, even though it wasn't strange at all, probably something like Kevin. He was a senior, white guy, with short brown hair, not too tall but not very small either.

We went back to Souderton the next year with Synthesis. I think it was a little bit later in the season this time. I remember that entire competition day it was raining furiously. For some reason, both unloading and loading the bus occured at night in my memory. I guess it was just really gray... although I guess if I think about it hard enough I can remember moving in during the light now. I knew we were there because I saw a school that I thought looked really long.

So like I said, it was really really raining that day. Like, extremely, extremely rainy. My hair was soaking wet by the time we were done moving in. I don't know how we got the instruments off the bus, but it must have been in a wild rush and an absolute mess. Gina's synthesizer, I think, was taken inside the nearest door we could find even though it wasn't the one we were supposed to go in through. We never plugged her synth in like we were supposed to - we just had her hook up to a car battery. We were really afraid of that battery getting wet, and I remember we wrapped it in a trash bag and booked it indoors as soon as we got it off the bus.

I remember walking down the long thin part of the school after loading towards the unit's room sometime that day. My hair was absolutely soaked. There were two girls walking in the opposite direction down the hallway, and one of them held up a camera and flashed a picture of me and then said "Thank you!" and laughed with her friend and walked away. I didn't know whether to be flattered or embarrassed. I forgot what they looked like two seconds later so there was no way I could find them again to ask.

The snare drummer that had talked to me last year had become an instructor for the Souderton drumline. I remember they called themselves the Mirage indoor drumline, and we were jealous of their super cool name [at least, we had been when we were just the Garnet Valley drumline].

The competition ended and we were all standing outside just before the bus, waiting to go home. I can't remember if it was still raining at that point, but I'm going to assume that it wasn't if we all decided to wait outside. I suppose I was pretty good friends with Marc and Brian at that point. One of them jumped on top of the other, and then someone shouted "boy pile!" and I jumped on top of them, too. So one of them was holding the other as well as myself on their back. I'm pretty sure Viv has pictures of me doing that, sticking my tongue out, on top of a boy pile with Marc and Brian in the dark outside of Souderton.

Peace out.

Synthesis 003

One day the pit was practicing with Miss Papa right outside the chorus room. I forget where my instrument was, or which instrument exactly I was playing at the time, but I remember I was against the wall that the back door to the auditorium is on. I remember Marc and Brian were sitting down with their backs against the same wall, too. Miss Papa told me to play my run in part two, or just to play part two, or something along those lines, and asked them if they thought it was crazy or something along those lines. I remember Brian didn't really say anything, and Marc just said, "It's a lot of notes." I was still afraid of Marc and Brian then because they were from Chichester and Marc never smiled and always wore a hat. He thought I was a senior for a long time, and I think he told me later that he wasn't impressed with me because he thought I was a senior, but then when he found out I was a sophomore he thought I was a lot more impressive since I was so young. I'm not really sure on how that came about though.

//

Like I was writing about before, our sets had a "frame" basically for some drawings to be held in - of clocks and clock designs, of course. At first the plan was to have blinds that we could just quickly flick from one side to another, from design to actual clock face. I remember Evan Gibbs, the only black member of the drumline [who played bass], was an extremely good visual artist and was always pulled out of practice to help design the artwork on the props. Whenever I would walk through the band locker room in the beginning of the season, Evan would be in there bending over some huge canvas and trying to draw something. I think mostly he was there in the very beginning when we were trying to get the blinds idea to work, and I think it was partly his influence why we decided we couldn't use them and they were just unworkable. No matter what medium he tried to use, he couldn't get it to go on the blinds right, and he just knew everything would end up looking all wrong. We ended up using large bedsheets instead, I think.

Another interesting thing was that the clock we used on everything - our shirts and our props, etc. - read an impossible time. The minute hand was just a couple minutes past vertical, but the hour hand was halfway between two hours. I forget if we knew this was impossible when we designed the clock, but I remember they designed it that way so that the hands would be displayed properly on the sets... Oh well. I don't think the judges took points off.

Peace out.

Lighter

I bought my first lighter the other day at McLanaghan's. It's a blue/purple ACE lighter with two "compartments" for lighter fluid in it. You can adjust how high the flame goes. It cost me $.63. When I went to buy it, the cashiers were talking about 4/20, which is only slightly more than 2 months away. The oldest cashier - the woman I was talking to - was somewhat scandalized by the concept as a younger girl at the register told her about it. She said 4/20 is the day when everyone smokes pot, and the older woman I was buying from said, "How long has that sh*t been going on?" To which the younger woman responded, "I don't know, forever? Decades?" And my cashier said, NO, NOTHING could have been going on forever. She wondered if it was going on forty years ago when her daughter was born. Her birthday was 4/19, and she wondered what the people in the hospital would have thought of her if she had smoked pot the next day.

In either case, I got my lighter. My bike lock freezes a lot of times when it's cold and there's precipitation, and my dad suggested getting a lighter to unfreeze the ice inside of it so I could stick my key in. I tried it the next morning. The plastic around the metal key insert started smoking, but I held it there for a little bit. I put the key in and the plastic basically melted around it [no major damage, don't worry]. Then I tried putting the lighter up to the key to warm that up, then tried that, but it was useless as well. The lighter idea didn't work. I got to walk to class.

So now I have a lighter and I have no purpose for it. I keep it in my pocket. Sometimes when I walk and I don't wear gloves I just take it out of my jacket pocket and start it. I'm not really a pyro, I don't really like to be stupid with fire, but I think it's pretty and sometimes I just like to look at it, kind of like snow and lights. I wonder what people think of me when they see me doing it - do they assume I smoke? I wonder if anyone's noticed that I never light anything with it. If I were walking right next to myself, I'd have noticed that. I don't know what I would think of myself. Probably not much.

Sometimes I don't let the flame go for long and I just enjoy the sound and the look of the spark. Sometimes it's too windy to have a flame so I have to do that. Sometimes I let the flame go really high and really long - the metal gets hot, and I can see the body of the flame and a spike of flame that goes way higher than the rest. That's from the mechanism that brings the fluid right to the hole where the flame comes out of.

I went to the Simmons piano lounge today after I ate dinner. I had a card in my hand from my mom and two ice cream cones full of stolen Reese's Pieces and my lighter in my coat pocket. I set all of them down on the table before I went to play so I could have my hands free - that big jacket makes it hard to play. I played Samson.

I noticed that there was a girl sitting opposite the piano looking out the huge bay windows at Simmons. She had blonde curly hair and it looked like she was studying. I never realized it before, but that window actually has a beautiful view. It'd be a wonderful place to sit with a friend and watch snow or a thunderstorm or a clear night. I plan on doing this just about as soon as possible.

I wondered if I was annoying her. I wondered if she noticed me at all and I wondered if she would remember me. If someone in ten years asked her, Do you remember that time you were sitting in the Simmons piano lounge studying and some kid came and played this song called Samson on piano and came and left quickly, would she remember? What if they asked, Did you wonder what the card he was holding was for or why he had two ice cream cones full of stolen Reese's Pieces or a lighter in his pocket?

I made a list in my head of things to get when I went back to McLanaghan's after playing piano, and I forget to get milk. I don't know what I will do for breakfast tomorrow.

Peace out.

Piano Lounge

You know what I hate?

There's a piano lounge here in Atherton Halls. It has a shiny but used/worn black baby grand piano of some sort over in the corner near the huge mirror far away from the three chanedliers on the ceiling and generally far away from the chairs in the room. There are two doors to get in here, and the piano is in the corner on the wall opposite the door that actually opens. One is closed for security reasons. There's a little alcove opposite the other door that also has a door, but I don't know where it goes and I'm afraid to find out. Some people were in there when I was playing once and they went there to make out and then other people in there pointed at them.

Anyway. What I hate. There are lots and lots and lots of quiet places to study in Atherton. There's an entire basement full of silence, a computer lab, and a "zombie lounge" just ten feet away from the piano hall where you can go get quietness if you need quietness to study.

Note that there is NOT A PIANO in those places. But there is one in the PIANO HALL.

So, from my perspective, if you want a quiet place to study, you should go to a study place where there is not a piano. Why? Because pianos are much rarer than study space, so if you can find study space that does not occupy very limited piano space, you should do what you can to make sure you don't occupy piano space when you are not using a piano. Does that make sense? Don't waste a piano by requiring that it not be used because you're studying. Someone wants to play that piano.

So basically: I hate it when people study in the piano lounge. There are SO MANY other places to study and so few other places to play piano. WHY DO YOU TAKE UP THE PIANO. WHY. YOU'RE NOT USING IT. If you're not using the piano LEAVE THE PIANO LOUNGE. Okay thanks.

I get really angry about this. I hate it. I want to play the freaking piano.

Peace out.

Showers

There are some pretty significant differences between the showers here and the showers at Brown [and the showers at home, of course].

The showers at Brown - at least the ones in West Andrews - were enormous. There were only two of them in the boys' bathroom. I think each of them must have been about seven feet by seven feet and probably a nine foot ceiling. There was only one curtain on each of the showers, and it was REALLY REALLY difficult to move the curtain to cover up the shower, but really really easy to move it back to expose the inside of the shower, which made for a healthy dose of paranoia. There was only one handle you could use to adjust the flow/temperature of water, and only one "compartment" of the whole thing, so you got dressed in the huge 7' x 7' shower compartment deal.

At Penn State the showers are MUCH smaller. I think they're probably about 4' x 4', and one of the showers has this stupid overhang thing right above it so it has like a 7' ceiling. I think that shower also doesn't have hot water - at least, it didn't the last time I checked. The showers here have two compartments though. First you step in and you close the curtain for the first compartment. There's a tiny little stool there for you to put your shower caddy on, and this is where you're supposed to get changed. It's supposed to be dry but it is ALWAYS wet. Then you step forward again and close the curtain and then there's the actual shower part. There's a hot spigot and a cold spigot and you need to adjust them and it's not a very fun game. The showers here also have a ledge to hold your soap - I don't think the ones at Brown had that.

The water in these showers gets SCALDING HOT if someone flushes the toilet - that never happened at Brown. Strangely, both of the showers have the same weird, semi-sweet, semi-dank smell when you turn the hot water on high... I don't know what it is but it seems specifically reserved for college showers. I guess you probably know the smell or will soon enough.

Peace out.

More Fever Dreams

Hey, I know I know I haven't written in like a week, forgive me. I was sick. On Wednesday night I started to feel a little bit sick, but I wasn't too worried because I didn't have a dry throat. Usually I have a dry throat before my body freaks out on me, so I wasn't too worried. The next day I woke up with a 101.6 degree fever. I e-mailed my PSL teacher and my English teacher and told them I couldn't go to class, even though I thought I would be missing an activity in PSL and missing the most important day to be in English for me all year. It actually turned out okay but... sort of sucked at the same time.

I had a really weird fever dream that night, too. Atherton Hall is sort of maze-like, and I'm still getting over that. That was a big part of my dream... I kept having this strange plot where I was using Atherton as like a military base for myself and I was building up underground networks of support throughout the building. Svetlana Katok, my Math 312H teacher, was in the building and on my side for some reason. It was really strange.

I stayed in bed and took Tylenol for most of that day. I thought I felt better that night so I sat at the computer for a while, but by 9 or 10 or so I felt pretty terrible again. I tried to go to sleep early, but I don't think I fell asleep until about 12:30 or 1AM. I think I had really weird dreams that night, too. In one of them I was rollerskating down this huuuge highway at night. There were lots of trucks, and police officers, and a toll both, and maybe trains. I remember earlier that day I saw on RealTV this one guy whose car was hit by two trains like at the same time, and that same thing happened in my dream on this highway. There was also an enormous hill down at about 60 degrees. I also had a dream where I came into my room and there were guys from the dorm floor on my bed taking my pictures off the wall and I was just like, "Ummm.... yeah, okay??"

Bill came into my room that morning at about 6:30. He was supposed to be at Hell Week but apparently they were playing mind games with them so they sent them home at some random time. He filled my water for me when he went to shower and told me that classes before 10AM were cancelled due to weather, which was GREAT beacause then I could only have an hour of class.

I thought I felt okay - fever was 101.3... - so I took some Tylenol and trudged through freezing cold and sleet and hail and ice to get to Katok's class to hand in my homework. I made it, and I made it back, but I just about died. I mean, not literally, but it was pretty terrible. I also had to go to two cafeterias to try to find any food I wanted [waffles or chicken]. I stole from one cafeteria to spite them, and then threw out what I stole. Jerks.

At one point when I was sick I bought some Tastykake mini doughnuts as comfort food. But then I couldn't stop eating them, so I threw them in the trashcan before I was done.

I chilled out for like all of Friday. I think Jenny came by to sign the card for Mrs. Rock so I guess I did that for like twenty minutes. I think I went to sleep early that night, too, but I had seen the doctor and decided I should take some NyQuil to help me get rest, since it's important to treat the symptoms of the flu. I fell asleep, and I think I had to go to drumline the next day, and so I had this dream where I had to help Coatesville move out of a gym, so I took one of their marimbas and fell down a huge hill with it. That sort of sucked.

So anyway, Saturday and Sunday I mostly stayed in and watched the Puppy Bowl, but I also went to drumline for a tiny bit because Jim Ancona was there and it was the most important weekend to go. I went Saturday and it was okay, and then I went Sunday morning at 7:30 and I couldn't take it so I had to go home.

I think I've weaned myself off the NyQuil now... alright, that's enough for now.

Peace out.

The Stickers

When I came into my room for the first time, I noticed there were some pretty weird stickers in our room. Specifically, one that said "CLOSE IT." on the microwave. I didn't really understand what it was doing there; I thought it belonged somewhere else.

After I stayed here a little longer, I realized that everyone has them in their rooms. And sometimes not in their rooms. The "CLOSE IT." stickers are supposed to go on the windows, so we keep them closed and our rooms don't need to use all that heating. There are ones that say "KEEP IT FULL" on the refridgerators, and then explain that refridgerators use less energy when they are full. There are ones that say "LIGHTS OUT" on all the light switches, for obvious reasons, and ones that tell you to cut your shower time to save water and heat.

I think those are the only ones I noticed. They feel a little bit like Big Brother. Just wanted to do a quick update before sleeeeeping.

Peace out!

Synthesis 002: Winter

The Synthesis year was the last year that the Garnet Valley Indoor Guard came to all the shows and on most of the bus rides with us. Actually, it might have been a combination guard as well, but I can't exactly remember. In either case, they helped up move our things and we helped them move their things, and we always watched each other's shows because we would basically be each other's floor crew if they needed any help at all.

The colorguard's show was done to a song called "Winter," by Tori Amos, I think. It was very light, with just piano and vocals and maybe a string bass or something. The chorus had some pretty ascending and descending lines with words something like, "When you gonna tell me again? / When you gonna love me as much as I do [you] ?"

Of course, Marc and Brian didn't exactly dig that style of music, and they loved to make fun of the colorguard's show. I think the best time was definitely at one of the two or three Synthesis parties we had in Schlichter's basement during the season.

Her brother had a bunch of "construction worker" toys - hard hats, fake drills, tool belts, hammers, etc. Marc and Brian, who were pretty good friends, liked to joke around and pretend to be "gay for each other," so of course when they saw the construction worker garb, they threw it on as fast as they could and put on a humorous show for us. Don't worry, nothing bad actually happened.

At one point, somebody put "Winter" on through some speakers. Brian and Marc started to dance to it with each other, in the same slow tone as the song. Bright yellow hardhat on, and toolbelt, and white tees. And while they were singing, one of them decided to serenade the other with the line, "When you gonna bust on my face?"

I think we had actually used that line before - during the colorguard shows, nonetheless - but this was definitely the best execution of that line. I also think that Evan K came up with it first, but I'm not too sure on that.

Peace out!

Synthesis 001: Where Are You?

We got our music very early on in the Synthesis season, as far as I can remember. At least, we definitely thought it was early. I'm pretty sure we had part two by the end of the first week, or something like that. I remember we were supposed to learn it during one of the first practices and then we ensembled it later that practice.

We had the pit instruments facing the TV and the doors then, in an arch. I can't remember what instrument I was on, but I think it was xylophone. They always put me on xylophone. We were playing through the first sections of part two. Kathleen and Sarah were still in the pit then, so they had the marimba 1 and marimba 2 parts that Steve and I would take later.

There was a Dr. Beat on, I remember, and it was extremely, extremely loud. I had my music in front of me because I still didn't have it memorized. We were playing the same piece over and over again, I guess it was the first three measures or so. At one point, Christian gave a direction that I didn't quite understand. I played the same bit that I had just been playing. He stopped everyone, came over to me, and said very cuttingly, "I'm at measure four. Where are you?"

I forget exactly what I told him. I'm not sure I told him anything. I might have just judged him and assumed he was a jerk at that point, in which case I wouldn't have responded.

Although I'm a little sad it was directed at me, that was definitley one of Christian's best, defining lines all season. People said it for years after that whenever someone didn't listen to directions, and we'd all think of that exact same moment.

Peace out.

Synthesis 000: Faceplant

It was sometime in early 2005, when Synthesis drumline was just getting started. It wasn't one of our first practices, but it was pretty early on in the season - my guess is February or so. Saturday practice had just ended and the instructors were having a meeting with us in the band room to discuss everything like they normally do at the end of practice.

So for those of you unfamiliar, our band room is fairly large open room. A little bit bigger than 40' x 60' on the floor. There are two sets of double doors on the 60' sides that almost line up with each other. One leads outside, and the other leads to a band locker room where the kids keep all of their instruments and folders with music and such. A lot of times, we worked on the props we used for our drumline shows in there.

In the Synthesis year, we had four props that were basically identical. They were made of wood. Think of it as a L shape, but the legs were the same length. One of the legs basically sat on the floor [we had wheels on the bottom of it to make it easier to move] and the other leg went into the air. The leg that went into the air was connected by a wooden beam at its top and bottom. In the square made by the aired portions of the two Ls and the beams that connected them at the top and bottom, we put sheets with drawings of clocks and clock workings on them [our show's theme was clockwork].

Now, a very important part was that the beam on the ground was *only* connected at one end. The backs of those two ground beams were unconnected. Furthermore, to make the weight even so that they would stand in place during the show, we put bricks on the very backs of the grounded beams. I think this calls for a picture.So at the end of the day, we were trying to move these props from the locker room to the band room. They were a little bit too big to go through the door upright - with the wheels - so we usually had to turn them to go through.

So we were all sitting in the band room. Most of the kids were sitting in an arch facing the TV, which Christian was standing in front of, which is on the same side as those doors that lead to the locker room. I was sitting a little bit behind the arch, on the right side of the room, close to the doors and the piano. So as Viv, Lauren, and Jack were trying to get the props through, they turned them so that the parts with the bricks were very high up in the air, and no one was supporting them. I think this was the first day they had attached the bricks to the props. I was very, very, very afraid that our precious props were going to break. I mean that, really. It would have been TERRIBLE if those props had broken in half.

So as Christian was talking, I saw the bricked legs of the props bending, and I just though, Oh god, I need to go run over there and help. I was sitting in one of the regular band room chairs. I had my ankles crossed - not my legs, just my ankles. I stood up and started running over to try to grab them. But as I did, my feet got caught up in themselves. I was about halfway there when I tripped. At that point, I was right near the piano, and the guitars and electric pianos. And, with the speed of running, I tripped, and my face thwacked forcefully against the corner of one of the amplifiers. Yes, you read it: I ran myself face-first full-force into an amplifier. Everyone heard it. Everyone looked. I didn't know what the hell to do, so I got back up and went to take a hold of the leg of the prop in the air.

I couldn't really feel it that badly, but I think it's because I had so much adrenaline from the embarrassment. Someone asked me if I was okay as I was holding the leg and I just said, "Yeah, yeah, I'm alright." And someone said, quote, "Your face is bleeding." And at that point I was like... ((O_O)). After we got the props down a couple seconds later, I went to the kitchen on the right wall of the band room. I looked in the mirror. My skin on my right cheek bone somehow tore off and I was bleeding a lot. It still didn't hurt too much, but it was definitley bleeding a lot. I used a lot of water and a lot of paper towels.

Christian came into the kitchen later and asked if I was okay. That made me feel a little uneasy because I had still barely talked to Christian at that point, and I still thought he was mean. He told me that it was good that I did what I had done, otherwise the props would have broken. I'm not sure if they actually would have broken, but I guess it was nice that he said that anyway. Other people said the same thing to me. I guess that was nice.

I had a scar on my face afterwards. At least, I thought I did. It was just a little patch of discolored skin on my right cheekbone. At first I was really really upset about it. I'd have to live my entire life with that scar and when people asked why, I'd have to explain that I made myself faceplant into an amplifier.

It eventually went away, and at first I was happy. I didn't want to have to explain that. But thinking back, I think I would kind of like to have a tiny bit of a scar there. Not a huge one, but one so small that I'd have to let you really inspect that area of my face for you to see it. I guess I just want it so I can just have one more thing to show for that season.

I miss Synthesis.

Peace out.

Cossart Road

I don't know exactly when I started hearing about it. I think the first I heard of it was sometime around the beginning of junior year, maybe even during that summer just after I came back from Governor's School but before I went back to school. The first time I heard about it was definitely from either Beth or Dani, though. The two of them wanted to go see it sometime. They referred to it as "Devil house" or "Cult house" or "the house where the trees bend backwards." For some reason, it just didn't interest me back then. I guess my imagination wasn't good enough.

In the summer after my senior year, though, I suddently became very interested in Cossart Road, and I can't remember why. I think what happened was, when I was away, Viv had a bonfire and told ghost stories, including the one about Cossart Road. All the kids in the pit told me that Viv was awesome at telling scary stories, so the next time I had kids over, we went down to my basement, turned the lights low, and had Viv tell the story of Cossart Road. I remember I was sitting on the couch on the side wall of the basement, and everyone listened very intently even though they'd all heard the story before. Viv's voice always shook a tiny bit when she spoke.

So Cossart Road is in Delaware, not too far from the border with Pennsylvania, just off of Route 100 [Montshanin Road]. You can see the road on maps sometimes, but not always, and it's often unnamed. There isn't even a street sign for it off of Route 100. This part of Delaware, of course, has been owned for decades and decades by the DuPont family - famous for creating Teflon, black gunpowder, and other chemicals. The horror movie The Village was filmed on their property. They have an enormous mansion on the top of a hill that you can easily see from Smithbridge Road. You can see a stone, round guard tower, too. There's one set back, and one close to the road.

The DuPonts also owned the DuPont hostpital. If you go to the DuPont hospital, and look closely, you'll see some very clearly unsafe sharp objects in some places. Glass and mirrors sticking out of walls and windows and such. The beliefs is that the DuPont's kids - who were very inbred and violent - were kept in the guard towers and these sharp rooms so they wouldn't be too much trouble.

Cossart Road is also on DuPont property. For hundreds of years, someone probably used the house in question. But then it went vacant. Nobody knows what house number it is, or deed number, or its last occupant, or anything. And apparently, sometime in the 1950s or so, the KKK moved in. Perhaps they didn't occupy it always, but on certain nights, you could see them. Sometime in the 1970s, three brothers were murdered on the grounds of this house. You can read about them in the newspaper - it's true, I saw the stories - as The Johnston Murders.

The road is very, very small. Even a motorcycle in the middle of the road would make it impossible for you to pass. It's also very shaky, and curvy, and on the side of a ravine. You can't go too fast, you can't go backwards, and you can't maneuver. There's a guard house early on in the road. In the 1970s and 1980s, people kept getting chased off the road. They said there were large trucks that would come quickly behind them as they passed the driveway, blind them with their lights, and force them to the end of the road. No one could ever see their face. There were so many complaints about it that the road was actually shut down by the Delaware police, and people who drove on it were given $1,000 fines. This part is also true, and you can read about it in newspapers.

The house itself is hard to see. It's set back from Cossart Road by quite a distance. Its driveway has at least one metal gate, possibly more. It's covered on some sides by tall evergreen trees. But there are accounts. For a long time, the first metal gate wasn't in place. Some people drove up as far as they could to the end of the driveway, only to be met by another gate before they got to the house. On the spikes of the gate, they saw that someone had impaled recently killed animals. And the windows, as rumored, had crosses in them. I have actually seen a picture - the framing of the windows are large, white crosses.

Perhaps you find a lot of the this story so far unbelievable. That's understandable. There is one thing, though, that is so clearly visible and, so far, is unexplained.

The trees on Cossart Road bend. In their trunks. Away from the house. At almost ninety degree angles. People have tried to explain it, but none of the solutions make sense. Others have suggested that the house is so evil, the trees grow away from it the best they can. Some say the devil screamed and the trees bent in response.

And there is one tree in particular on Cossart Road: Skull Tree. If you look at it from the right angle on the road, it looks like a skull - eye holes, mouth holes, bone structure, everything. From another angle it looks like a hand reaching into the ground. Supposedly, a woman left her baby to die there years ago. Some say it was cradled by the hand as it died. If you leave a tape player in the eye hole where the baby died and listen to it backwards, you are supposed to be able to hear it screaming.

I remember the first time I went. Although I actually can't remember exactly when it was. I'm pretty sure it was in the summer, but I don't know exactly when in the summer, although I would have to guess earlier rather than later. Gina was in the front seat with me, and Viv was in the back with Joe. I can't remember which one of them sat on which side. I asked Viv to tell the story again as we were driving - it was just getting dark, maybe about 8PM, then - because it made it way creepier. I think this was actually the perfect time of day to see this place. I tried again multiple times but never caught it in such good light.

As we drove, Viv pointed out the signs on the road. There were many of them that said, "No stopping No standing No parking anytime." You could see red and black stains on the - paint or blood, or both, Viv said. People who stopped were routinely beaten, she said.

We listened to The Dresden Dolls as we were driving. I'm not sure which song was on for the four minutes or so that we were really on the scariest stretch of Cossart Road, but I'm pretty confident it was either Gravity or Half-Jack. Gina was really scared by the whole aura of the place, and she put her head down near the door and looked into the space where she put her feet and concentrated on the music instead of everything else around.

Viv told us we probably wouldn't have cell phone service, and we didn't. If something happened to us, it seemed like we would be all alone. We all really, really hoped my engine wouldn't give out.

I didn't think I would be freaked out by this place. I'd seen TV shows about places like this, and sure, they felt a little eerie, but I chalked it up to editing. I didn't think I would actually be scared if I went to one of those places. But I was. Something about the trees and the bending and the road and the isolation and the light. I felt very unsafe and like something or someone could actually come out of the trees and that would be it. I drove slowly and looked at the bending in the trees and looked for skull tree and hoped that nothing was waiting for us around all the bends.

There was a car in front of us. They probably thought we were chasing them off the road. When we got to the circular turnaround at the end, they sped off. I think they were afraid of us.

I forget whether or not we took Cossart Road home that night. We might have gone to Route 100 or whatever it was. I think that night we were too scared to go back, but I can't say for sure.

And even though I was terrified, I wanted to go back, over and over again. And I still want to go back every time I come home, and I don't know why.

Peace out.

Morning Routine

I have class at 8AM every day this semester. On the weekends, I have to be at drumline by 9AM. I don't have any time to sleep in, ever, and I always have to be ready to go early in the morning. So I try to plan out a morning routine so that I can sleep as much as possible and still get to class on time.

The first couple of days I was here, Bill [my roommate] wasn't here, so I didn't have to worry about waking him up or disturbing him or anything. But starting on Monday morning, he was there, and I had to try to be very quiet about all my movements so I wouldn't wake him. I think I woke him up the first morning with my alarm, but I've turned it on "Soft" now so I think that's a lot less likely to wake him up.

So basically I get up at 7:10 every day. I put my blanket underneath my feather comforter so people don't see it or touch it. My dresser is in the closet near the back of the room [near the door that leads to the hallway] so I go over there and get dressed in the dark. Jeans are in the bottom two drawers, so I pull something out of there. I can't see what color or design are on my shirts anymore because the lights are off so I don't wake Bill, so I never really know what shirt I'm going to be wearing. I don't put on socks yet because I have to go to the bathroom and they'd get wet and gross.

After I'm dressed, I grab my cell phone and keys and pencils and wallet and put them in my pocket, then pick up a towel and my bathroom caddy thing. Then I have to get the milk out of the refridgerator, but the door opens towards Bill, so I lean over it, open it as little as possible, get the milk, and then close the door and hope I didn't wake Bill with the refridgerator light. I used to take the cereal box with me, but now I just pour the cereal in the bowl the night before and take the bowl with me.

Then I go out my door and to the right, down about three doors, to the pressing room, which is where we keep the iron and vacuum and things like that for everyone in the dorm to share. The door is usually closed and the light is usually off and it's usually empty, so it's not weird to eat my breakfast in there. Usually, when I sit down, I also take my retainer out [I usually haven't done so by then]. Then I pour the milk in the bowl and have my cereal, and usually I check to see if I got any text messages overnight at this time [usually 7:17] and answer them. I usually eat Life, Frosted Mini-Wheats, Smart Start, or Cheerios.

There's a sticker on the light switch that says "LIGHTS OUT!" It makes me feel guilty when I leave the light on when I go to the bathroom, but with the light off, I would see that I left the milk in there. The bathroom is really far away, so going back to my room then to the bathroom would be really inconvenient.

There's usually someone else in the bathroom. It makes me feel a little self-conscious because I shower at night then sleep on a pillow, so my hair is totally ridiculous, but I guess people just have to deal with that.

I think this is the worst part of my morning routine so far. So usually I do my hair in the morning by just soaking it with water, drying it off a little bit, shaking my head, and being done. But the sinks here are totally defective. Instead of having one faucet for the water to come out of, the sinks have TWO faucets. One of them is for hot water, the other is for cold water. So on the left side of the sink, you can get water to come out at about 160 degrees. On the right side is water coming out at about 50 degrees. There is no inbetween. You can't mix them. They come out of different faucets and you can't moderate the temperature. So when I needed to do my hair in the morning, what was there to do? I had to either burn my head off or freeze it off.

For the first few days, I just froze it. It sucked but at least I didn't have to go to the hospital. One day I asked Bill, my RA, what to do, and he said to just stick my head in the shower. So I put a towel behind my head and wrapped myself up in the shower curtain and did that once I got the water the right temperature, and it got my hair wet, but it got my feet and jeans and body soaked, too. I had to go back to the room and change my pants because they were so wet. So that didn't work.

After that I think I complained to Gina about it, and she said just turn on both faucets and close the drain and dunk my head in it basically. I didn't really want to try that, but I didn't have much of a choice, so I did it. It does actually work, but it makes me feel really self-conscious. What would you think of a kid that just shoves his head in a sinkful of water every day? Yeah, me too. Oh well. At least my hair looks good.

Peace out.