Yay for the seashell shirt! Our $8.03 could very well turn into a nice $8.53 in a hurry. Surely there's one fan out there who can be cold when it's 80 out. Speaking of such, my city is about to be blown away by ol' Ivan. I've never actually been to the Big Easy but was planning to visit for my next (first) big trip with friends (friend) or something of that nature. I could see myself listening to jazz and eating Cajun food before I make my way to the French Quarter where I prepare myself for some crazy mess at the voodoo queen's grave before the famous smell of the place gets to me and forces me into a comma that would actually be quite nice for a couple of days (weeks). But now the inhabitants of New Orleans and other Louisianaish places are taking up refuge in Hope. All of Hope's hotels, motels, and cat houses are full of Cajuns, Creoles, and the like. How ironic! How am I ever going to find my way to Ireland when I can't even make it to the next state?
I think there might be no piano again tomorrow, which means I get more time to practice sol fege, which will be the cause of my early death very soon, so if I don't post for a while, someone might want to call and check on me, lest my body be fermenting on the floor of a practice room in Snow Fine Arts Center. I'd rather get caught in a tornado or an exciting plane crash than find my demise in a heart attack due to an excessive amount of singing syllables that have no apparent reason for even existing.
I would like to make it known that I am also glad that I'm the only female convoginator. Every day of school I am reminded of how much I really don't like girls. It saddens me to think of the day we get a woman president, however, I'd take a woman Republican over a tofu-eating male Democrat any day. Too bad I missed most of Republicans in Hollywood. I'm sure it was quite interesting. If we were in a Plato-ish society, we'd have intelligent people in the highest offices, but we'll just have to make do with the guy who'll screw up the least. We'll never be as cool as the Irish...however wet they might be.
Who threw the overalls in Mrs. Murphy's chowder?
Nobody spoke so he said it all the louder
It's a dirty Irish trick and I can lick the Mick
Who threw the overalls in Murphy's chowder.
I need a pint,
seashell
