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Isn't that beautiful? I love it. Just got it in one of those e-mail forward thingies- you know sometimes, they're not total drivel. ::happy sigh as Meg thinks about love:: Wouldn't that be nice.

Unrelated topic: my piano teacher, after seeing me sing at the student recital, told me, "Well, here's the chanteuse. Now I know why you never did very well at piano; you're a singer at heart."

Now there's a moment where you're not sure whether to say thank you or not. I think I smiled and dulcetly expressed my gratitude, but still. I'm not that bad at piano. I'm just more interested in teaching myself Tori Amos songs I can sing along with than struggling over the works of Bach's kids who had nothing better to do than torment me on Thursdays at nine a.m.

Listened to a couple hours of angry-girl-with-piano music and felt better, though. What I would do without Fiona and Tori is not worth considering- such a bleak possibility. How anyone can pass them by without a listen or two baffles me, but I'm sure that's how some people feel about their favorite rapper, so I'll let it slide.

Decided I was enough over Charlie Brown to call him for a little chat, since I had a lot to say and no one to listen. He usually plays battle-ish video games, and I usually play Free Cell or Tetris, and we get along fine in our agreement to be bored in unison. It works well simply because if one of us starts babbling about something that holds absolutely no importance to the other, one can always lose themself in the intricacies of their game and give an occasional "uh-huh" to keep the other going with no feelings hurt. We always seem to wind up talking about the way and meaning of things, why we agree or disagree with this or that status quo, etc. Not a single discussion of people or current events, except the occasional moment spent on someone in choir or a theater ditz who can't learn her lines. Kinda cool.

Then my roommate and the two girls down the hall invited me to go with them for dinner and a movie, not necessarily in that order. We were joining up with two friends of Steph's, meaning part of the evening I spent sitting quietly smiling in half-laughter at the conversation around me, wondering why on earth I couldn't be interesting to two male engineering majors, one of which drives a white Ferrari and is too good looking for me.

I loved the rain we drove through, though. It flooded the streets, swelled the drainage ditches and bayous (the three New Mexico girls keep calling them arroyos, which makes me laugh- same as they laugh when I say bayou), and turned the little green car into a boat through puddles. We got lost twice and laughed so hard our cheek muscles hurt. That was fun. I wonder how the white Ferrari kept behind us through all those U-turns, turning into parking lots on accident, and stuff.

We missed the showing we intended to catch, so bought tickets for the later one and went to dinner, then stopped at an arcade to kill time. I lost (in nearly embarrassing proportions) a game of air hockey to Ferarri (Ferrari? Ferarri? How do you spell that word?) boy. Watched other people play rather than step forward for my share of the tokens we bought, because embarrassment is not one of my favorite things. It was weird- I wasn't entirely uncomfortable the entire night, but it was like wearing shoes that were just half a size too big, so you have to step carefully to keep them from flying off... if that makes any sense. Guess I'm not quite a party girl yet. At least not around people I don't know. In the end we had enough tickets to get little shimmery-streaked black bouncy balls for all six of us. $3.25 contributed for an air hockey game and a bouncy ball. At least I got to see Steph practice her judo in the virtual reality booth and still manage to lose to the computer.

We saw the Legend of Bagger Vance. Charlize Theron should go back to Georgian-Accent School; Sometimes it drawled a bit too thick, sometimes it came and went. Sometimes I felt like the script writers were trying too hard to make it feel old-timey by antiquating the phrasing. And don't you hate the line that's held and delivered with the impression that it's supposed to be one that echoes into your soul, that changes your life, and it... doesn't? I don't like self-impressed writers. I really hope I'm not one.

The entire movie wasn't bad, though. I give it maybe three and a half out of five stars, and keep in mind I'm a pretty easy grader. The little boy is adorable. Loved him. Managed to get moderately interested in the golfing game, around which centered the entire movie, so that was cool. Still love Will Smith, for who he is on and off screen. Kept waiting for the movie to grab me, though. It didn't. It kind of... nudged me. Maybe I shouldn't have seen a 9:45 showing.

Got back and Charlie Brown had left a hang-up message on our voice mail once he got back from play rehearsal. Hm. I hadn't known when he left for rehearsal that I'd be gone, but... oh well. Kinda nice that he wanted to keep talking to me. Maybe there's more to my Tetris and Free Cell ramblings than I knew.

But I'm pretty sure I'm over him.

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