Saturday, November 06, 2004

The merging impared

and other driving disasters.

It didn't start out well, and it didn't end up well today. Pulling off my street, I have the green, and these three bicyclists blow through the intersection. The first one I let go. The second two I had to stop the car, and I beeped the horn. Then one of those morons whips me the bird. Like *I* had done something wrong. Excuse me. Traffic laws apply to you, you frigging eltists cycling bastard (We'll leave out how I rode my bike to and from my mom's house on the sidewalk tonight).

Then I was coming back from the gym and I run into the merging impared. The ramp's half a mile long with a totally clear line of sight as to who's coming and who's not, traffic is steady but not heavy, and this person stops. Dead stops at the bottom of the ramp. There's quarter of a mile between her and the next dude, and she waits. Sits there. I pulled out into the flow of traffic behind her.

This is, of couse, after I have probably the worst voice lesson of my life. Lecture about forgetting my tuition check at home aside, That fracking B in O Holy Night will be the death of me (see my NaNoWriMo blog for more details here. Oh, I did see why I was screwing up the grace notes finally, after working on it this fall and last. OOPS, thats a fricking whole step, not a half step. I squinted and looked at it and was like... awww frigging crap. However, that evil B. It's all psychological. I can hit a B when I am not loooking at a B. It sits above a floating line, and it waves at me, sticks it's tongue out and mocks me.

Which fricking sucks because I sang Vitoria in the right key and it was pretty good until the end. I don't know. My brain started blowing up right then, and the high notes started looking scarry. Damned high notes. I need to just not read music any more. All it does is get me into trouble. Damned grace notes. Damn all the dots and lines and spaces, damn them all to hell. There, I feel somewhat better.

Left my ATM card at home and got stuck in the parking garage at my voice lesson. I had to give my parents a collect call to bail me out. Dad was so cool today. He helped me out, and he made dinner, and he sent some home for James, wrapped it up and everything. That massive amount of therapy is paying off. Mom should start seeing his psychiatrist. I think she's trying to be cheerful more, and accepting that she doesn't need to be miserable, that it's ok to have fun, but she's still pretty psycho.

Then there was the frantic half hr search for the ATM card when I got home, followed by the bikeride from hell in which I tore the muscles above my knees. Dad explains it's because the seat is too low and so is the handle bar. I also have seat-ass. I'm contemplating getting one of those wide fat people seats with the gell cushion. I take the comfort of my ass very seriously. Nobody likes a pain in the ass.

My throat's starting to hurt. That better fricking be it. I better have a swollen throat, because mother bitching hell, I was not nearly as constricted on that frigging B last year. Which is fine and all, why the hell was my body so tense? Maybe I need to stop going to the gym before I go to my voice lesson. I mean, I was sweating today, and it was like a second work out. Then I could my third with that frigging bike and trying to stand so my butt didn't hurt... ohh I give up.

I also believe my novel sucks and that I'm a lousy singer and I should just quit everything, crawl into bed and never come out or possibly die. My shoulders are still really tense. I need a full body massage. Too bad I don't know anyone who can do that.

And in conclusion, the whole fricking world can bite me.


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