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You know those days where you know you want something desperately but you have no idea what it is?

People should come with little meters on their chests. Teeny dials that, when one pushes the button, it reads your own meter and tells you how that person feels about you. Like a litmus test.

It would start at the bottom, with red, meaning they dislike you intensely, then orange, which is ignorant loathing, then yellow, meaning indifference (yes, I know I've said a billion times that indifference is the opposite of love, not a neutral thing between love and hate, but maybe the scientists who invented this little gadget didn't know that).

If you get to green that means the person thinks you're kinda neat, but either recognizes some flaws or just doesn't know you well enough yet. Blue is a happy good-friends type thing, the kind that'll drive you to the grocery store when you need milk.

And purple, the best color ever invented, would mean this person would pretty much lay on train tracks for you. Whether it denoted intense friendship or love, or whatever, you would know this person was one to hang on to.

We need little happy-making machines, where you could figure someone out with the push of a button. We could call them emote-o-meters. I would wear mine with pride. Push the button, then, ding-ding! Congrats, you get Green. We should hang out sometime.

I bet some of my friends would only rate me Blue, and that's fine, because people like Sara (who's a Purple on my list simply b/c she's been so much for me) had other Purples before me, and you can't just grow a Purple overnight unless you hadn't any before. She won't come to me for advice or support, but she will give me either or both if I ask. She just likes being the one in control, the role model, the admired, sort of the dominant half of the friendship, which is fine by me. I've not done much to merit admiration, since I'm just me.

And my Dork Sisters, you cute little Purples, think how much time we'd save if we could push a button on *his* chest (no matter to whom the pronoun refers) and find out, "I get a green! Yay!" or, "Ouch. He finds me yellow."

And we could turn and run (and probably cry a bit) if they metered us as Oranges and Reds. It would simplify things somuch.

And what about on the other end? What about when people pushed your button? Sam would see his Blue-purple-ness without me having to tell him. Drummer Boy would realize he only merits a yellow and that the more he pushes things, it slips into orange, and maybe, just maybe, he'd leave me alone (and would have stopped trying to catch me changing in the backstage dressing rooms during Comedy of Errors, sheeze). Tiger could see that he's blue teetering on green (I hate being so undecided... it turns my stomach, to think of all the crap I'm putting that poor boy through while I figure out my own muddled head).

But I'm driving the subject into the ground. I also need to get something off my chest.

Some rude chick told me I had an "easy" major today. Said, "If you were a Bio major like me, had the homework I do, you'd realize what stress is."

Excuse me. I am not a music major because it is easy. Coming to college with 15 credit hours in the bag and taking 18 hours every semester and still needing 4.5 years to graduate is not easy. Practicing at least two hours a day is not easy. Extra rehearsals, getting home after five every day, working your butt off and being told, "No, something in your technique is holding you back" is not easy.

Yes, Bio Major Girl, I would have more homework if I were you. I would also have more free time. But I could be a Bio major. Anyone could if they worked hard. But you, no matter how hard you worked your entire life, could never learn what it takes to be a music major, because half of every single thing you do is based on what you're born with, based on talent. And I'm sorry you don't have that, Madame Tone-Deaf (I swear, she is). Because if you did, maybe you would understand what it takes to make your voice your entire career, to be grateful that God gave you a gift with which to build your future.

Work hard? Stress? Grrr. Go back to your homework, do what you're capable of doing, and I'll do what I'm capable of doing.

::Takes off Egotistical Bitch mask::

Time to do some theory homework. Secondary dominant sevenths are a pain in my rear.

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