Due to a wrong switch being thrown on the recorder, the recordings are unusable due to very low audio levels. ^&$#*!(%#^+$&^
For a prelude, I played the theme of Ropek's Variations of Victimae Paschali Laudes (from my Junior recital last year), then we chanted the Victimae Paschali Laudes, and the set was ended by the last Ropek variation. I hadn't played this at St. Paul's last year due to the lack of general toe pistons, but this week, I drafted Three and Four to help me out. It went fairly well, but not perfectly; that's what happens when Mary tries to dust off and perform a difficult piece in four days.
Since it's "Moms' Weekend" at the university, there were lots of moms and their progeny at Mass. Too bad they seemed to disappear en masse (no pun intended) after Communion. Speaking of Moms Weekend, we stopped at the BP station so Two could get some Gatorade, and noticed two moms with their two sons, each carrying a case of beer. Keep it classy, ladies! Also entertaining to watch were the college girls with >3 inch spike heels, because women tend to walk like cavemen while wearing them. Ugga Ugga.
May I broach an uncomfortable subject, while remaining true to family-friendliness? Gosh, I hope so.
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What is it with the sea of cleavage abounding (and I DO mean a-BOUNDING!) at the university level? I know what you're thinking: you're just jealous, Mary! Well, maybe, but doggone those boobs are so distracting, and I don't mean that in a SSA way, either. The physics of it all is mind-boggling. I've often confessed (even to my own mother) to wanting to see if you could store stuff in the cleavage. I mean, would it stay there, perfectly balanced by a combination of gravity, centripetal force, and sheer luck? My question was actually answered for me a few weeks ago by a fellow singer who, knowing what secretly lay in my heart, perfectly and securely stored a #2 pencil in her cleavage.
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Wow. I sure do feel better with that off my chest. (Pun intended.)
Let's see...what else?
I sang in a long concert today. During the last portion of the show, which featured a men's choir, a mom sitting next to me was humming her son's part in every song. Please, whoever you are, wherever you are, DON'T do this to your child. or to the persons seated in proximity to you. Had to leave the concert early to get to St. Paul's in time to practice that Ropek stuff. I was so tired that it was difficult to focus my eyes during Mass. I hate it when that happens.
How 'bout those gas prices? What a way to shut down the economy, eh? It has stopped this family from traveling and spending money, which is bad especially for the younger members of the family who are going stir crazy. Can't go anywhere tomorrow because I'm required to attend two voice concerts. Bummer.
Lastly, the yard is a JUNGLE. I'm afraid to go out there due to what is surely a massive tick population, and tons of killer bunnies. No, wait--I'm the killer, and they are the bunnies. I don't intentionally mow over them, but sometimes you just can't see the nests, especially when the grass is so high. Maybe one of the kids will scout out the yard before I mow, but then I'll have to pick out dozens of ticks.....yuck. Of course, this is all a moot point until it STOPS RAINING. Don't get me wrong; I LOVE rain. Rain rain rain rain rain. Dark, depressing dreary days are my favorite; I find them very motivating. (Don't ask questions.) But this yard....I'm getting the shivers just typing about it.
Well, I'm gonna quit typing before I start rambling about some other inappropriate topic, like the man who kept reaching into his pants with BOTH hands during a Holy Week Mass. He was just pushing down his shirt (or something) but still.....ick. Did he give the sign of peace with those hands?
Okay, I'm really leaving now.....
8 comments:
I can't imagine storing things in your cleavage would be very comfortable. I've never tried it myself (though I could if I really wanted to I suppose). As we all know, there are ways to be modest even if you have a-BOUNDING cleavage.. take it from me, you can strap stuff down if you really wanted to. No excuse for letting them bound about, especially at Mass, if you wear clothes that actually fit. Just sayin...
The gas prices are RIDICULOUS. And the stories about the profits are even worse.
It's raining again today.. I'm pretty sure it's never going to stop.
Which Holy Week Mass? I'm pretty sure I saw one doing this on Palm Sunday... but I was too afraid to mention it to anyone because it was just.... It was very distracting! Yikes!
Hi MCK!
Happily, I don't recall seeing any "bouncing ladies" at Mass. Whew! :) But everywhere else....oh man. I feel sorry for the guys, who must experience constant temptation.
I take it back - Hands-in-Pants-Man was at the Good Friday liturgy (so technically not Mass), I think, because as I recall you were sitting sort of behind me. He was a few pews ahead of us.
I've done a lot of complaining in this post! Maybe I'll talk about pleasant stuff next time. :)
Maybe.
Too bad you were unable to have recording this week, especially considering Ropek.
Gas prices up in my area too. Last I looked, was $1.38 per litre, which translates to CDN $5.24/gallon. Painful.
Regarding yard/lawn: I think a gallon or two of napalm would be something that might resolve the "jungle" issue. Perhaps somewhat over-the-top, but just think of the time and hassle saved.
My fav line: "Speaking of Moms Weekend, we stopped at the BP station so Two could get some Gatorade, and noticed two moms with their two sons, each carrying a case of beer. Keep it classy, ladies!"
TH2,
I looked up the conversion and had no idea that our dollars are nearly equal. Still - "painful" is a good way to describe that kicked-in-the-stomach feeling when filling up.
Napalm - that's something I hadn't thought of. However, when I went to buy some on Amazon, I decided instead to use it to get rid of some pesky body fat:
http://www.amazon.com/Avant-Research-Napalm-4-Ounce-Bottle/dp/B00117ZSVM/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1304275621&sr=8-2
After seeing those lovely ladies with the strapping young men, I had a horrifying thought; perhaps those weren't their sons....ewwww.
Ewwww. But... as I've heard, where you mind is has already happened. Grossss.
about the boys and their "mothers" (or...someone else's mother...) ewwwww.
Bah! Back in old country, Mom's Weekend was fun. We pillaged and plundered all weekend long! Nothing like mother-daughter bonding over the burning of a neighboring village while looting their cellars. But then, back in my day, we didn't have universities. Pass the ale!
Helga,
I cannot comment on your comment due to my membership in the witness protection program.
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