School is for Chumps.


A true story of how I only attended one day of school last week:

Monday was President’s day.

Tuesday I attended school. Toward the end of my choir rehearsal my throat started to hurt and I was developing an evil headache.

Wednesday morning I woke up with throat ablaze, glands swollen, sinuses going crazy, and my head hurt even worse. I also woke to snow falling softly. I battled with myself for about ten minutes before deciding that I really did need to stay home so that I would get better, not spread the crud, and not exhaust myself.I slept for many extra hours that day, and actually took flu medicine. Before bed I took what I thought was NyQuil (which I later discovered to have been DayQuil) and my body was going crazy. It was shaking and I was knocked out.

Thursday morning, due to the extreme conditions in the early morning on the road, mom dad and I all bundled into the car together at 7am to make the treck to Oly. At this point there was a two-hour delay, but I felt in my gut that school would be canceled. I couldn’t risk just staying home though, because I couldn’t miss my accompanist session and my Chem Lab. It took about an hour to get to Tumwater to drop Dad off. Right as we were rounding the corner leaving Dad’s work on the way to drop mom off my cell phone beeped. Crud. Sure enough, school had been canceled. So here I was in Olympia at 8am, facing another hour long drive home (if my parents could arrange a ride home with my Dad’s coworker, which they did) and I never actually had to get out of bed. When I got to my mom’s work she made me stay an hour to see of the snow would let up. It didn’t. By the time driving and such was done (and getting mom coffee) I finally headed home around 10am. I knew I needed serger thread, and as it was sort of on the way home, I decided to see if JoAnn’s was open.

Business after business after business on the way to JoAnn’s were closed, but I got there and as luck (or giant corporations) would have it, JoAnn’s was open. And there were a couple of cars in the snow-filled lot. Other people must have been thinking like me. I went in, grabbed my thread, paid, and was out of there in under ten minutes. That was a miracle which has never happened before and which, I think, will never happen again. Everything told I got home at 11am and decided it was too late to go back to bed. I eventually ended up taking a two-hour nap that afternoon.

Friday morning I woke at about 5:55 to check my phone to see if school was canceled. Usually the alert goes out at around 5:00 or 5:30. There was no text. I took in a deep breath, readying myself to get out of bed, and then the phone beeped. School canceled. Back to bed.

This was perfect timing, giving me the most rest possible and best way to recover from being sick. I was so thankful.

The bad part, however, is that the few days off were glorious and I found myself thinking, “You know, I really don’t want to go back.”

I just keep repeating about two more months!

——-

The Schubert Mass in A Flat went well tonight at the 100 Voices Concert. It’s interesting having different people standing next to you at each rehearsal….you get to hear different wrong notes every time.

The lady standing next to me at the performance was on top of things, but the lady standing next to her perpetually came in early, even with the most precise of cues. Maybe she didn’t know how to identify the ictus?

It was great seeing friends though.

Also, the whole time, I just thought “I love this, I love this, flare your nostrils,  MAN I sounded great there, duh tongue, flare nostrils, I love this, I love this…”

——–

Today I straightened my hair (with a curling iron…I am so over hair straighteners) and decided my bangs were far too long to see out of, so I trimmed them about an inch. I started to set the scissors down but when I saw them in my hand I got that tingle again. I don’t know anybody else who has this problem…but I just can’t resist cutting my hair no matter how much I want it to grow out. I used to give my Barbies haircuts all of the time (cute ones) but unfortunately their hair does not grow back–it can only get progressively shorter. My hair, on the other hand, does grow back!

I decided to just give myself a few snips, after all my ends were looking pretty rough, and pretty soon those snips turned into chops turned into more chops turned into a new, shorter, haircut.

I thought it turned out well, I felt pride in my new hair and I loved how light it felt. At the same time, I was really angry at myself. What happened to me wanting Taylor Swift length hair? (Yes, I know celebrities have extensions, but still!) Well I sent out an angry text, yelled at myself a little, and then admired the hair again. Yeah…it looked good.

Then I got to choir and was confronted by a few girls who tried to claim that I had given myself the same haircut as Y (which is NOT TRUE and I could point out the obvious details but most people ought to be able to see for themselves) but I got pretty upset about it. Not about the fact that our haircuts might be somewhat similar, but about the fact that people would think I would need to copy a friend’s hair just to be creepy or something.

Ok folks, this is going to sound weird, but when I cut my hair I don’t plan what is going to happen. The hair just sends me little vibes, and the scissors go where directed. There is never a thought of “Oh, I want my hair to look like this!” there is just a symbiosis between hand, implement, and hair. The different techniques are controlled, but over the whole process there is no control, just abandon. I think that’s why I got so defensive about having the same haircut. The idea of copying demeans the whole organic process.

Call me a loon, or whatever you like, but this is all true.

This is all me.

And as a reward for sitting through a bit of my hair-cutting-experience-philosophy here is a picture of the new ‘do.

I guess it’s kind of hard to see at this angle, but it is cute.

Bob, my favorite non-knicker wearing Tenor, told me that it was a great look on me and he really liked it.

My mom asked me who “cut up my hair” and wanted to know if I wanted an appointment at a salon.

You win some you lose some.

A sudden wave of exhaustion has crashed over me (but you will all be happy to know that the sniffles are down to a bare minimum and coughing is practically nonexistent now) so I believe it is time to go to bed.

I wish you well,

goodnight.

Sincerely,

Emilie

P.S. Saw Border Songs today. More on that later.

Advertisements

6 thoughts on “School is for Chumps.

  1. I love your hair! And, I have blonde extensions you can borrow sometime? 😉 I don’t think that they’re quite Taylor Swift long, but they’re fun!

    • This is where magical hair product comes in to play. I have a bevy of products which, when used, prevent said damage.
      As to why I would use a curling iron in lieu of a straightener–for me, straighteners don’t get my hair nearly as straight as curling irons, the finish is not as nice, and it takes about twice the amount of time. Plus, I don’t like my hair to be as straight sheet, I always put in body and a bit of a curl on the ends.

  2. Nice haircut–I’ve been debating whether to cut mine but I KNOW once I do I’ll loathe myself. So I’m letting it grow. And school IS for chumps.

    • Yeah. I keep trying to let it go…but my scissor hands just won’t let me 🙂 I admire your fortitude in sticking with it.

Something to say?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s