So rehearsal got over early tonight because half the group didn't show up, so I hopped over to NFM to go shopping. Yay for the BK discount card that also gives me a NFM discount! Woot! Anyway, I went looking for the soundtracks of some of the songs we're singing. Unfortunately, they only had the Full Monty movie soundtrack, and not the musical soundtrack. But they did have Hairspray, and I bought it. While I was at it, I got Head Automatica, Long-View, and Acceptance, the latter two Scott introduced me to a month or so ago. So yeah, it was a good night of music buyage. Of course I had downloaded most of Head Automatica earlier this year, but I figured it's only $10, and it's so damn good, I might as well support them and improve the odds of seeing another Head Automatica album one day. I will weep if I don't.
But yeah, so the show is coming along . . . interestingly. I can't help but notice that I am quite obviously a Baritone/Bass in the middle of Tenors and Sopranos. And for some crazy reason, Brandon has decided to have me sing Tenor . . . So yeah, every time I sing something, I get all nervous and self-conscious b/c it sounds like crap, and then it DOES sound like crap, and its embarrassing because I know anyone else in the room can hit those notes; my voice just doesn't hit B's and higher. I consider it a lucky day when I can hit an A. So yeah, we've already worked on making "Man" more sing-able for me (which is embarrassing in itself) and I think I'll be able to belt out "Close Every Door"'s A's by the time the show goes up, and in Big Ass Rock, I can just go falsetto and/or play around with stuff.
So yeah, I'm really paranoid about how I fit into the whole group. Everyone there is an amazing singer without even trying. Listening to them belt makes me cream my pants. But I can't do that. My voice is cream worthy on lower notes, none of which even appear in this cabaret thing. Gahhh, this is my first big deal performance in the Omaha Community, and I don't want to frell it up!
But Brandon must have faith in me to even ask me to be in it in the first place. He just asked me tonight to sing "Dancing Queen" because Matt decided he didn't want to do it. So it looks like I'll get to play around with some low notes. And hey, it's another song, and one that's NOT HIGH! YES! I'll just make up for my voice with my performance. I can really get into music. It helps me loosen up and relax and bring things out of myself into my performance. At least, that's how it feels. So, yeah, the show opens in a week and a half at The Max downtown. You're all welcome to come, and it'll be awesome despite my bari voice.
Oh, quick story time. I was soooo going to blog about it, but I forgot last time. So, it was Friday evening, last Friday. Or, technically, Saturday at 3:00 in the morning. I was on my way back to Blair for my final night at Dana, coming back from The Animation Show 2005 at the Dundee. Going along, I thought to myself: I'm tired, and I'll be damned if I'm going to crash or something the night before my graduation. So I was purposely going at almost exactly the speed limit. So, I just enter Washington County, and am approaching a hill; the same hill where Nick was stopped on the way back to Blair from the Smokey Joe's cast party. Remembering this, my eye flashed to the spedometer, which was hovering around 63 or so as I had just come over the hill and was beginning to descend the other side. My eyes flash to the side of the road, and, sure enough, there was a car parked on the side of the road. So I out my foot on the breaks, and I'm slowed down to around 55 as I pass the car and see that it definitely IS a cop car.
So I'm all, fuck, I'm going 55, he's going to assume I've slowed down so much b/c I was speeding. Sure enough, as I pass the cop car, he pulls out and begins to follow me. But he doesn't put on his lights. He just follows me. All the while, I'm freaking out and getting paranoid, trying to make sure the spedometer doesn't go over 60, trying to keep my eye on the road and make sure not to swirve so he doesn't think I'm drunk, and all the while, he's actually TAILGATING ME! I could barely see his headlights, his car was so close! So now I have to worry about not speeding, not swirving, and not stopping b/c the fucker is so frelling close to me.
After what seemed like an eternity of that panic session, he puts on his lights and pulls me over. So I'm sitting there wondering what the fuck he's pulling me over for and freaking out about getting a ticket the NIGHT before my graduation, and also being extremely grateful I turned down all those beers after the movie.
He comes up to the window, asks for liscence and registration, etc. Then he tells me he pulled me over for speeding . . . he said I was going 70 as I came over the hill.
70 my ass . . . I was paranoidedly (is that a word?) watching my spedometer, and my little line wasn't even halfway between 60 and 70. Fucker. But I didn't say that, no. I said, "Oh, really!? I thought I was being careful about that. I was watching my spedometer, and I wasn't much over 60. When I noticed I was a little bit over, I slowed down.
"Well, anything over 60 is speeding, and I saw you slow down as you saw me."
Oh fuck you, you fucking cop. I slowed down because I KNEW you'd be an asshole, and I am very well aware that anything over 60 is speeding, but do you realize how fucking ridiculous it is to keep a car going at EXACTLY one speed without using cruise control? I was, I dunno, PAYING ATTENTION TO THE FUCKING ROAD, YOU DUMB ASS PIECE OF SHIT, rather than eying my spedometer the entire drive. In fact, I was under the impression that police never pulled anyone over unless they were going over 5 miles over the speed limit precisely BECAUSE of that.
And then the whole tail-gating thing, trying to make me go faster/get nervous and swirve/whatever, was just fucking sneaky and asinine. I should have just slammed on my breaks and claimed I thought I saw a deer, and then sued the fucking Washington police station. Fuckers.
Anyway, after pointing out to me that my insurance info was expired, he let me off with a warning, telling me, "you gotta be careful about all the deer. Slow down." Yeah, fuck you too, asshole. I'll try and avoid the deer while I constantly stare at my spedometer and keep asshole cops from tail-gating me. Thanks for the GREAT advice.
Actually, I really need to find my updated insurance info . . . he told me I have to have an officer sign the warning when I find it . . . Good thing I reminded myself.
So, yeah, that was my story.
And for some reason, the comments haven't been working lately. I don't know why. Just ever since I got home, they've been gone. I dunno if it's just me, or if the service is gone or what. *shrug*
I had a session with Sharon the other day. We talked about a lot of stuff with me, my future, my thoughts on the end of college, etc. For a quick recap of the session: friendships are, in fact, matters of convenience. People come and go, that's the way life is. But the older you are, the more likely you are to stay in touch. Also, my life is in a HUGE state of flux right now, and will be for the next couple years. I need to establish some sort of support system, and that should probably be my family. After all, families are more solid than convenience-based friendships. So, yeah, I think I'll just stay at home for the next year to save money. I might as well, and I'll be off on my own soon enough. Why rush it? Why rush to add another bill on my list?
We also talked a bit about how I come off to others- gay guys in particular- how they can read me (or not read me), how I think about things, what I want, etc. I think it's just a fact that I don't get along with gay guys well. Older gay guys I get along with fine. Hell, Mitch, who's doing piano for the cabaret, and Brandon are awesome. But gay guys close to my age are . . . much more difficult to deal with. And Sharon is trying to determine why, exactly that is. It's difficult b/c she only deals with me in her office; she can't see me actually interacting or anything. From our dealings, she doesn't see anything that would indicate why I have such a difficult time with guys. Once again, she knows I don't act around her the same way I might act around other guys. But we did have a discussion about reading people, or the lack-there-of. Of particular interest were my dealings with Brad, who, as far as I can tell, just thought there was something wrong with the way I acted, and thus should change. I'm real tempted to post specific thoughts and comments, but I'll just say that Sharon's glad that I've been able to distance myself from him.
Bahhh, it's late. I was so going to talk about something else, but I forget . . .
Well, there is the fact that my parents have to sell the house because they can no longer afford it. Thus, we are moving at the end of the summer. But that's not what I was thinking of. Shit, I hate it when I do that. But, yeah, so we're moving. I haven't moved since I was 5 . . .
