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  • I thought this one was funny... the results were destined to be strange..


     


     


    YOUR PORN STAR NAME:
    (NAME OF FIRST PET + STREET YOU LIVE ON)
    Gigi Meri

    YOUR MOVIE STAR NAME:
    (NAME OF YOUR FAVORITE SNACK FOOD + GRANDFATHER'S FIRST NAME)
    Pear Jim

    YOUR FASHION DESIGNER NAME:
    (FIRST WORD YOU SEE ON YOUR LEFT + FAVORITE RESTAURANT)
    Iris Spiro

    EXOTIC FOREIGNER ALIAS:
    (FAVORITE SPICE + LAST FOREIGN VACATION SPOT)
    Oregano Anaheim

    DETECTIVE ALIAS:
    (FAVORITE BABY ANIMAL + WHERE YOU WENT TO HIGH SCHOOL) 
    Fox South (Kitsap)

    SOAP OPERA ALIAS:
    (MIDDLE NAME + STREET WHERE YOU FIRST LIVED)
    Leigh Harbor

    ROCK STAR ALIAS:
    (FAVORITE CANDY + LAST NAME OF FAVORITE MUSICIAN)
    Carmello Elling

  • I'm singing (I think) the solo in Minuano. So that's pretty cool. I work with the rhythm section tomorrow to see about nailing my piece for Eastern Washington University jazz festival next month. First performance on Tuesday in Federal Way. That should be a doozy. Anyway, I got to get to bed, so I'll talk to you all later.

  • So Mom bawled. Tears and blotchy and the whole nine yards. I took time to inform her that I probably couldn't top that... can't set standards too high. Anyway. Much work to do. Teresa had me sing about three separate solos today. I rocked, if I do say so myself. Bed now. Peace.

  • Week at a glance:


    Trying to survive theory and get my homework done.
    Trying to practice music and do math to keep up.
    Working.
    Putting together the photography project for my Mom's birthday.
    My mom's birthday.
    The day immediately following, the anniversary of my Grandma's death.
    The day immediately following that, my sister's birthday.
    Surviving the weekend to survive another week. Oh shit.


     

  • I've planned a HUGE photography project of us children for my mother's birthday. It's tomorrow, but I'm pushing it to have it done by Saturday. I really wish I had a month, and unlimited money, but you know. My Pentax is my baby. Anyway.... so much theory homework. I can't think. And I REALLY, REALLY need an eyebrow plucking. In other news, Jazzline is singing Oh Lady Be Good, so I don't have to learn a song that everyone else has to. Bonus. Well, night.


    P.S. I hate Bush. And Kerry totally won tonight's debate.

  • Superman has died. It is a sad day for all.


     


     


    Doesn't it seem as if many celebrities are dying lately?

  • Just got back from the Kristin Korb/ Todd Johnson concert. A-MAZE-ING. Really. They are both so talented, they're sweating it through their pores. I shook their hands, just so I could touch the hands of the greats. Todd, shit, well... he plays a 6 string bass and can do a walking base line and amazing solo at once... he makes these little "ach" noises when he plays something hot, which he did a lot, let me tell you. And Kristin is so beautiful, with the sexiest jazz alto voice ever (except Diana Krall)... she also can play notes on her upright and scat the same ones simultaneously, then harmonize. Wow. Well, enough gushing. I'm going to go listen to my autographed CD now. Peace.

  • So, two of our songs are (oops) coming along smashingly. I hold out great hope for us. The only thing is that Teresa has said she is cutting 2-4 people next week, we don't know who, it's stressful, crappy, and there is no way we'd be getting our money back. Man oh man. Kristen Korb/ Todd Johnson concert and clinic tomorrow. OC choir room, 7:30, free. Just so you all know and come if you can. Okay, well, theory and nap calls. And not, I repeat NOT in that order. Peace yo.

  • Dead tired. And I didn't do my homework. But I did go and see West Side Story last night. It was pretty good. I was impressed by the choreography and such. The violinist, though, needs to be shot, or at least learn how to play in tune. And I'm pretty sure that the music director is a herm. I wish I had had a camera. School now. Peace.

  • the sun slices over the tree line
    pushing darkness to the corners of my mind


    the dew, still fresh, on untouched grass
    sparkles


    years have passed, yet the morning reminds me of wonder
    of lemon trees and smog


    I have grown into my immaturity
    burning the cloak of responisibility that enveloped me too early


    the defrost refuses to kick in,
    I don't mind the extra time


    reminding me that there is so much left
    or none at all


     


     

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