The Joy of the Starting Note

I'm sitting here now, wearing my dark green dress and listening to Echoes. Typing. Today is a day that needs to be blogged about.

I can't sleep anymore, with my hacking cough. At just after midnight this morning, my half-awake brain told me to get up and go bother my mother. (Often that helps.)

Me: I still can't sleep.
Dad: Did you try the extra pillows?
Me: I can't sleep sitting up! And I'm so hot.
Mom: You should go back to bed.
Me: Yeah, sure.

I walked out, then turned around and came back.

Me: I feel really, really sick.
Mom: Go to the bathroom and take off your retainers, then.

I walked to the bathroom, took out my retainers, put them down on a convenient flat surface (the sink), and went to stare at the toilet. Somewhere in my addled brain a thought rose, telling me that maybe I should go to the bathroom adjoining my parents' room. That thought was another example of why I believe in fate.

Mom: Did you take your retainers off? Are you feeling all right?
Me: Yeah...
Mom: Are you OK?
Me (leaning on the wardrobe): I feel so dizzy....

***

Mom: Are you okay? Talk to me! (to dad) Look, she's ashen. She's in a cold sweat.
Me: Urghh?
Mom: Talk to me!
Me: I'm fine. Well, I'm not fine, but I'm alive.
Mom: I should hope so. (to dad) We have to get someone to watch the kids.
Me: (sitting up) No, I'm fine. Really. Actually, I've always wanted to faint.
Mom: Don't do that to me! What happened today? Did you eat?
Me: Yeah.
Mom: Did you drink?
Me: Um....
Mom: You didn't drink all day long?
Me: Yeah, in retrospect, that may have been a mistake.

So this morning I had to endure visiting a doctor about my cough, and my mother of course had to tell him about how I blacked out, and then I had to endure all these follow-my-finger exercises and walking-in-a-straight-line (much like what Kim and I put some of you through, in some ways). And then there was the interrogation.

Him: Do you smoke?
Me: No.
Him: Don't worry, I'm not going to tell your mom. So have you ever smoked?
Me: No.
Him: Have you been doing drugs? You know, gotten together with your friends at a party, and just gotten high together?
Me: No.
Him: Marijuana? Heroin?
Me: No.
Him: Alcohol?
Me: Uh...no....
Him: You sure?
Me: Yes.

Painful even for the guiltless.

And now for something completely different: I had a dream one night that we had a party where everyone had to (a) wear a dress and (b) bring a guitar. So we were all sitting around, stumming our guitars...I believe either kaj or alec tried to get in with a kilt. Something like that.

The music exam was...well...it got better after the first two scales (the easiest) for me. Not awful, and the piece was alright. I managed to hand in my late pass. (A step up.) And how I love the starting note. The free note. The note that is never marked, never graded, never evaluated, judged...however you want to put it, it is the note that can be anything it chooses to be.

So tonight I plan to spend here, thinking way too much and worrying.

-Liuqael

I know you don't care. But I do.