Newsies and Fathers

Odd day today. Woke up late (see prev. post to see why), had breakfast in the middle of which Ashley called to pick apart Into the Woods. A much goodly time was had by all, and it's humbling to see that one is regarded as one regards one's own professors. Humbling in a good way, indeed. Anywho, got a message that HMV had my CD in and I - being still a bit sleepy, presumed that it was Peter Pan forgetting that I'd not actually ordered it the other day (both the cashier and I forgot). So I went in, apologized that I'd already purchased Pirates of the Caribbean elsewhere and ordered Peter Pan. Came home for a steak lunch with the family, then went to confession (good confession!) and mass (AWESOME mass - preach John 6 Father Larry! Woo-HOO!), and then dropped Julie at work and went home to get everything together for Dad to work on the laptop.

And even he is having trouble. *sob* But, my father is a wonderful, patient computer genius and so I will not fret. He has set up his own computer so I can edit for the nonce on that, and whilst I am at the RenFest with Jules tomorrow, he will sallie forth to do battle with the evil Windows XP once more that refuseth to capture video! Lord, please help him, amen.

I finished my first Mrs. Pollifax adventure - the one in China - and it was cute, but the assertion of reincarnation, psychic powers and Bhuddistic principles (over Christian) bothered me. This book was written in 1980 - or rather published then - and it's horrible to me to see how such charming books - as well as other equally charming things - must have so easily influenced our current generation. GAH!

Curious thing to note: whilst picking up Julie from work, there were all these folks out in the back alley smoking. It looked like they held live embers in their hands - and that ember was the only thing alive about them. Must stick that in somewhere - TSV, if I can manage it, although it desires omniscient narrative and not first person account. Perhaps Juste could carry it off - although he strikes me as a smoker himself.

Another curious thing to note: I'd make a wreched father. While my "baby" was upstairs (the laptop) and my dad was attempting software surgery, I couldn't get myself to focus on anything. Sure, I read Mrs. Pollifax while muttering prayers under my breath (yaaay for rote prayer in times of distress!), whilst the cyclone that remains my room hulked back at me and seemed to bury me beneath it's neglected weight - but I couldn't bring myself to do anything but worry. Stupid - utterly, senselessly stupid, I know - and my stupidity was made the worse for the KNOWLEGE of my stupidity.

So, I played the piano. Realize that when I play the piano, it's the equivalent of an aural mood ring - or Louisa May Alcott's happy/sad pillow - or musical empathy. I wasn't happy. I played Kristen's E minor theme with my variations rising in tone and ferver, which then switched to a couple rounds of the main theme from Fur Elise, which then switched to "Thomas" one of my songs that really requires a bonfire and a bodhrain. After that, I tried to musically get myself out of my absurd funk, but no happy songs presented themselves. Rather I re-figured out "And now what shall I do" from Bearskin which is suitably agitated, this segued naturally to the bridge/redemption theme, "How can I turn to her" which I played in half time. Over. And over. And over. Again. Sometimes varying it with the countermelodic "Kyrie." Over. Again. In octaves. Which easily gave way to playing "The Song of Salero" from Music for Medina (STILL submitted to MZB'S S&SXXI), first playing just the right hand, then both, then at its highest octave, then its lowest.... ...s...l...o...w...l...y....

Gone
All that was is
Gone
Lost beneath the
Endless wave
My love once
Sailed upon, now
Gone
Forever...
gone.

Yeah. Cheery stuff. Put me right in the mood! (Oy.) And Mom too, because she suggested that I take Peter over to the mall to visit Julie for an hour. Which we did. And that was good. And I got in some commando praying in tongues for a few people that looked like they could use some extra prayers. And I waved to one of my students. And then I came back, realized I hadn't eaten dinner, and turned around and went back out to pick up Julie - which is where I observed the smokers - and came back and blogged.

Blog.

Oh! And I listened to Newsies. Break my heart, why doncha? Love love love the opening song (love all the songs - great musical - go see it). Esp. the part when the mother sings in a voice to rend souls from men's bodies: Patrick, darling, since you've left me, I am undone. Mother loves you! God save my son! Wuh! Yeah! Les Mis in the middle of a Disney musical, ladies and gentlemen, right atcha.

So now I will attempt to use the editing on this computer just to assure myself that indeed the thing is possible and then - oh then! - I will sleep and slip out with Julie tomorrow morning and sing rousing Pirate-y drinking songs whilst perfectly land-locked and sober.

Gut nacht!

Mood: Yawn
Music: Santa Fe, are you there? Do you swear you won't forget me? If I found you would you let me come and stay? I ain't getting any younger, and before my dying day - I want space, not just air, let them laugh in my face - I don't care! Save a place. I'll be there.
And we won't come back: Until we've bought a new pewter figurine! (Hmmm, too many syllables there....)