At least the sun's out.

Someday I'll learn to play Danse Macabre.

Was looking through my old stuff from grades five to seven today and realized that Grade Eight has been far and away the best year. And it's all because of you guys. Yes, you, reading this. I love you all so much.

*sniff*

Okay, back to business. Let me tell you why my guitar teacher thinks I have a good ear.

One day we were playing around with capos and he strummed a chord and said, "really of course that's a --" and I said, "B flat major." "How do you know?" he asked. I don't know what answer he was expecting to hear...probably something logical...but it probably was not, "Well, it sounds like B flat."

It's true that I can identify notes. I did it today when Jenna and I were blowing on the neck of our Stewarts bottles. I don't have perfect pitch -- I could not tune the strings on my guitar to the perfect tones without a point of reference. Yet a combination of ten years on the piano and perhaps a little bit of genetics have provided me with the ability to discern between F and Ab, whether it be the whine of a lawnmower or a note on the flute.

I've decided to pull a Kyle and remain in pajamas until soccer practice. Until then, I'll probably be wandering around the house.

Memories less difficult than ever.