The Homeless Hanger Incident

So I had the funniest day of my recent life yesterday.

I'm sitting in one of the many practice rooms adjacent to the band room at the school with Andrew and Claire. Kevin, however, was in the practice room next to ours practicing on the xylophone. Within each of the practice rooms in the well-worn, foam-esque ceiling tiles are large holes that were, at some point in the past, made by a mysterious force. In our room, slightly to the left of the space above my head, is a ceiling tile that had been moved over to one side, allowing access to the empty, attic-like space that all the practice rooms share.
So everyone in my room was bored. I was numbering measures in ED's music out of boredom, Andrew was reading, and Claire was chilling. The tiny guard room was filled with awkward silence for several minutes, until, suddenly, Andrew looked up from his book and muttered, "I'm gonna throw something at Kevin."
Claire and I smiled and Claire suggested some small, light object to be chucked through the ceiling. Andrew stands on his chair and gives it a toss. The projectile makes it through the hole in our ceiling, but thumps on the inside of the adjacent room's ceiling tiles. "Missed," I mumbled, not particularly interested in the pastime that has been the undisputed favorite of band students since the ceiling-holes were brought into existence (which was probably around twenty years ago or so).
In search of another projectile, Andrew looks up to the rack of color guard flags and finds a row of empty hangers. He grabs a hanger and Claire and I become a little more interested. Andrew flings the hanger and it bounces off the edge of our ceiling-hole and smacks me in the face. After a small burst of laughter from our group, Andrew picked the hanger back up, and mounted the chair for another attempt.
The hanger disappeared through the ceiling-hole and we heard a thump on the other side, and I assumed it was another miss...until, almost instantaneously with the landing-thump of the hanger, Kevin's xylophone notes stopped dead. Devious smiles appeared on the three pairs of lips in the guard room, and then came the familiar Southern drawl of our band director.
"Kevin, did you see that?!"
Kevin's high-pitched, hysterical laughter rose through the ceiling-hole in his room and into the guard room through ours.
The three pairs of eyes in the guard room widened. Andrew leaped down from the chair and spun to sit in it, grabbing his book. Claire stood up and began spinning a rifle as I began numbering measures again. After a few moments our band director (who, in his cooler moments, we call KoopDawg) enters the room with Kevin trailing behind. Kevin looked like he was about to burst into more laughter if he opened his mouth. KoopDawg stared at the hole in our ceiling.
"Is there anyone up there?"
We answered meekly, "No..."
"Doubt it-"
"No sir..."
KoopDawg pointed from the hanger rack to the hole in the ceiling. "One of those hangers...fell through the ceiling..."
The room was silent as we all sat and waited to get yelled at. All the evidence was on the table; we were sitting beneath a hole in the ceiling that quite obviously connected with the hole in the ceiling of the xylophone room, there was an entire rack of hangers directly above Andrew's head, there was no one more fun to prank than Kevin, and no group of kids looked guiltier than us.
The next words our director spoke shocked us to the core.
"Y'all, my wife works at the library and they had these homeless people hiding in their ceilings. They'd been stepping up on the bathroom sinks and climbing into the ceiling...I think there may be homeless people in our ceilings, walking around on the cinder blocks...I need to call somebody about that and see if they'll come check our ceilings..."
So he leaves and goes to his office to get on the phone.

Really?

Like, seriously?

I've been laughing for two solid days.

KoopDawg, we salute you and thank you for the entire class period of stifled, hysterical laughter.

Life is good.

"Laughter is the spice of life"
Peace out,
~W.V.~

You Shouldn't Say "Macbeth" in the Theatre...

Or anywhere around me, because I may randomly punch you and start swearing at the heavens like an ancient Greek with Taurette's (meaning I'd swear in Latin).

Anyway, I have a great respect for that play, but I hate reading it. I wish I could just go see the show, just to get the full creepiness out of it.

I am so completely, utterly, irrevocably in love with my David. And he's officially joining the Marines. And I am SO NERVOUS. But, I think I may have partially convinced him into having a ceremony, which I look forward to. Of course I have no idea how we'll afford it (not getting any financial support), but I think we can manage something nice. All of this thought about the military is terribly exciting, but there's constantly something lingering in the back of my mind, echoing after every hope, telling me that somehow he'll die and I'll be left all alone. I guess it's the fact that I'm used to everything beautiful in my life falling out from under me the moment I start expecting it to last. Family, friends, guys, my personal stability among others...the moment I get comfortable with any of it, all of it falls apart.

But, thinking back, D showed up in this town when things were getting really bad, and he loved me then, and he's never let me fall, even when it wasn't expected of his and wasn't his job. David's never abandoned me, and I believe he never will...but his willingness to be with me and protect me can't deflect a bullet, and neither can all my worries and highest hopes. I could pray until I passed out, but if it's supposed to happen it will happen...and though my belief in fate should make me more comfortable, it doesn't.

I'm the happiest I've ever been when I'm making him happy, and I can't see myself without him, ever. I've lost family and friends to many things, including death, but to this day I cannot comprehend how people cope with the lose of their mate. The very thought of it makes me cry.

So. Analysis.

10 Things I Don't Love About Myself:
1.) I eat too much
2.) I'm often indecisive
3.) I worry too much
4.) I should let my guard down more often
5.) I let people walk all over me
6.) I ignore my own needs in order to tend to others'
7.) I'm a bit too comfortable with the idea of my own death
8.) I tend to take lots of time to accept changes about myself
9.) I remember too much
10.) I forget too much

10 Things I Love About Myself:
1.) I'm tall
2.) Someone loves me for exactly who I am
3.) I find humor in negative situations
4.) I don't take myself too seriously
5.) I'm aware of how I sound, but also of what I mean
6.) I can be quite eloquent, with a little effort
7.) I have a small group of amazing friends
8.) I comfort people
9.) I know who I am
10.) I understand what I am

I always feel better about life after I analyze myself. I'm not entirely sure why.

So it's December 5th, and getting ever-closer to Christmas. As I get older I hate winter more and like the holidays a fraction more, but I can't say that it's the family-oriented part of the holiday that I like. Most of my family hates the rest of it, and in some cases just me, so I avoid conflict and contact like the plague. The coziness of Christmas is nice, but my favorite part is gift-giving. Just buying and making gifts for other people. It makes me feel awesome, and the acts of shopping and creating are relaxing to me.

All my stories are coming along nicely. I sustain my high hopes for them.

I heard a great joke the other day.

A burglar breaks into a house and starts looking around for valuables. After a few minutes he hears a voice that says, "Jesus knows you're here and he knows what you're doing."
The burglar snaps his flashlight on and looks around, but doesn't see anyone, so he moves on to another room and continues looking for valuables. After a few more minutes, the thief hears the voice again, closer this time, "Jesus sees you and he doesn't like what you're doing."
The thief turns his flashlight on again and sweeps the room, and this time the beam passes over a parrot. The burglar laughs and says,
"Was that you, little guy?"
"Yes, it was." The parrot answered.
"What's your name?"
"Moses." Says the parrot.
"Ha!" The burglar laughed, "Who would name a parrot Moses?"
The parrot squawked and replied, "The same person who would name a rottweiler Jesus."

~W.V.~

Oh Snap!

So band camp was this week. It was amazing. And truly hilarious. Most commonly used phrases of the week- "Oh snap!", "Je-su-uh-us!", "Fondue", "Squeal like a pig, boy!", "You got a purdy mouth...", "Bojangles", and "My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard; that's right, it's better than yours, damn right, it's better than yours". Most commonly played songs other than show music- "Lean on me" and "Why Can't We Be Friends?"

It rained all week and was cloudy and fairly nice out in general. Today is my anniversary with D, and so far it has been quite wonderful. I discovered Yahoo IM on my phone, which is sweet because now I'm online pretty much all day to talk to whoever wants to.

I had an interesting conversation with my best friend the other day involving philosophy, among other more personal matters. The basic idea was that no one should expect liberties without giving the exact same liberties to others without withholding. We each decided that neither of us is quite up to par in that respect, so we have something to think about as we go throughout life.

I'm excited that school is starting soon. One more year. It feels so strange to know that I'm about to transcend between more stages in life....it's exciting, nerve-racking, scary, poetic...

Molin Rouge. Great movie. Ewan McGreggor has the voice of an angel. I'm sure ED would agree with me. :)

I'm gonna research some stuff now. Peace.

~W.V.~

"I cannot fathom that."

The best epic fail to date.

Courtney McCurly, in the middle of Devin's line about how his character's family in The Crucible populated the entire community.

Devin: "The Putnam seed has populated this entire province! I-"

Courtney: "I cannot fathom that."

Not only was her line early, but sounded completely hilarious. I mean EPIC fail. It was great...

Well, that's all for now folks. There is a puppy begging at my leg.

Adios,
~W.V.~

Ah...we meet again

Wow, I've really missed blogging. This feels like coming home.

I find myself without much to rely on...there are a few stable things here and there, and that's really all I can ask for. I'm alive, so I have no right to ask for anything at all.

David's downstairs eating dinner, and I'm in front of his xbox on a laptop, blogging. Lol...I find myself to be delightfully lame.

It seems like every girl I know is going bra shopping this week. I'm thinking, "Why exactly do you turn the unnecessary spending of money on items you don't exactly need into a social event?" Then again, I've been known to turn aimlessly driving around Decatur, Hartselle, and Huntsville into a social event. So I guess wandering without purpose can be useful after all.

Hopefully I'll be playing Resident Evil 5 in a few minutes...Gah, that's a good game. I'm pretty sure I prefer it to RE4 simply because of the co-op mode available in RE5.

"Those who are dead are not dead, they're just livin' in my head...
And, since I fell for that spell, I've been living in this well.
Time is so short and I'm sure there must be somethin' more...

"Ya' thought ya' might be a ghost...
ya' thought ya' might be a ghost!
Ya' didn't get to Heaven, but ya' made it close...
ya' didn't get to Heaven but ya...

"Those who are dead are not dead, they're just livin' in my head...ooh..."

~"42" by Coldplay~

Been in a Coldplay mood lately. Bright, calming, nonsensical music...seems to suit me of late.

I intend to post an excerpt from Oscar Wilde's The Picture of Dorian Gray here when I get the chance...it sums up my thoughts nicely.

Ah...we meet again. The dreaded school picture day. I wore a Victorian vest-top thing, faded black jeans, a dress watch, and my hair is now dyed something kinda like its original color...so yeah, me and my dramatic makeup look like your typical punk-pop star. It's sickening to think about the stereotype, but I do like the way the style looks on me. My newly pierced ears feel pretty good, so I know have four individual piercings. I was afraid one was infected, but I think now it's just torn, but healing up nicely. Well, D's back. I'll drop another line as soon as I get a chance to again.

LOVE LOVE ME (~mika~)
~W.V.~

Chronicles of the Sixth Period Art Class: Episode I; Consecration

So Ms. McCurly and I are if the same art class with a crew of trouble-making fools. Well, at some point a certain person,whose name shall not be revealed, invited a few of the wilder people in our class over to our table and asked them to join us in Te Penis Game. Said game involves each member of a class taking a turn saying the word "penis", the first person muttering it out in the slightest whisper. The volume of the word increases until the teacher notices...which, with our particular instructor's apparent hearing/attention problems, could mean that The Penis Game may have actually continued until someone on the other side of the room from where it began may actually have to scream, "PEEEENIIIIIIIIIS!" in order to end the game. I was the suggested starter of the game, and was considering actually participating when someone at our table began to use an ethnic accent that was quite obviously not their own Caucasion one to say, "Hey, you wanna get me a Rice Crispy Creat?" (inside joke).

This got the ethnic-accent-impressions going, and pretty soon it began,

"Man, we been readin' this book on da Holocaust and dem concecration camps..."

A ripple of laughter.

"Man, shut up, I gotsta consecrate on my work!"

"All y'all shut up, I'm tryin' to consecrate on this book!"

"You better not consecrate on my book!"

"But seriously, all the shoveling those poor people in the consecration camps had to do...I mean, they were probably having to consecrate on each other..."

"Hey man, can I consecrate on you?"

Finally, among the constant eruptions of laughter at our own immaturity and at the compulsive and unquenchable fit of giggles we'd been thrown into, Ms. McCurly returns to her normal speaking voice and asks, "Gah, why would you ever wanna consecrate on someone..."

I realized the slight irrelevancy of the quip, but I couldn't resist, and immediately responded with, "Well, if you're R Kelly..."

I don't think any of us stopped laughing until after the bell rang to move to seventh period. Eventually everybody was lost in a hopeless fit of giggling over everyone else's giggling. It was pretty hilarious.