okay, I think the rage is washing out of me. breathe, bedlam, breathe

[bedlamsbard]

GOD DAMN IT, I am so pissed, I just fucked up my flute audition amazingly, though if I am very lucky they will realize they don't have a tenor player and I will get to play saxophone. Please realize you have no tenor sax player. (I am not making this up out of whole cloth by the way; the director and the flute prof were talking about this once they realized I actually played saxophone.)

Of course, it's a bad sign when your audition goes so badly they want to put you on a different instrument. On the other hand, saxophone is my primary, so please.

Someone come be soothing at me while I stare at my four sentences of Peta/Caspian and try to figure out if it wants to turn into porn or if it's content where it is. Also my fic -- I know where this one is going, though -- the washcloth I'm knitting while the other one dries out (fuck you, Ike, why couldn't you have just hovered over Cuba for a while? Or Tulane, jeez, Loyola is closed and it's next door), and my in-progress fanmixes, which make me want more music, except I've only got eleven bucks left on my iTunes giftcard and I don't want to spend actual money on iTunes. WAH.

Comments

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

*shrugs* Who knows? The marching band's only a little bigger than my high school band was; the concert band is probably of comparable size.