Things Fall Into Place

(coming soon to a computer near you)

...

Edit: February 26, 2006
(ok, so "soon" means something different when life comes at you like a hail storm of sharp screwdrivers falling from the sky... oh, and uh just for kicks, you're naked)

(ouch)

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Instead of a new post, this will be a "best of" show. We bring you "A Cup of Juice From the IB Coffeehouse," dated April 19th, 2005:

While it's fresh in my mind, let me bring you a snapshot of my night at the IB Coffeehouse.

Leaving home at around roughly 6:02:17 PM, I'm kinda jittery walking out the door. Of course I'd never tried to do anything so cool in public ever before. I weaved through the evening traffic like a madman, getting to school in 10 minutes flat. About the fastest time ever for me. I guess I drive faster when I'm nervous.

First things I notice walking towards the gates in front of the courtyard are the three cars parked there. Unloading drums, amps, speakers, etc. I half-wondered if I was supposed to bring my own mike. Nahh, these were IB kids, heck we share Extended Essays, who cares about a mike?

Walked into the cafeteria to kinda get a feel for the place. Yes I've been in the cafeteria before, but this was different. The air felt different. Made a few casual greetings, checked with Ms. Lowry to confirm that I could use different material than what I had auditioned with, and then proceeded to a bench in the courtyard to write up the aforementioned new material. Oh man, I'd been so busy with everything that I hadn't had time to go over my act at all since auditions 2 weeks ago. It sucked. It didn't even sound funny to me anymore. Eh, I still had time. Busted out the ITT Tech clipboard and my trusty notepad plus lucky blue pen (yes I believe in lucky blue pens), and started writing.

Oh God, writing feels comfortable. I've had some ideas floating around my head for a few days, and now I had a chance to straighten them out and deliver them to myself. I reworked my opening, added a new joke close to the beginning, and changed up the order of the rest of my material. I also decided to forego the "prime telephone number" joke, on the sole advice of one J. F. Kregler, a.k.a. Sir Sucksalot. I'd only gotten through half a page before my watch hit 6:30 and I walked back inside.

Boy, there sure were a lot of people in that previously empty cafeteria. Now I started getting a little more nervous. I found a seat in a corner (maybe you haven't noticed, but I like corners) and scribbled away furiously as friends seated themselves around me and made casual remarks to the effect of "IT'S CODY-TIME, WOOOO." Do you have any conception how hard it is to write anything when the person next to you is screaming "GOOOO (your name)!!!" once every 7 seconds? I was done with about a page's worth of material when Madamoiselle Zebrowski opened the night. And as rock music blared through the air and filled my ears, I tried my best to find the sense of humor I had lost along with my sanity and a good pair of safety scissors when I entered IB.

Time flies when you're waiting for your name to be called. I'd barely finished writing down the basic sketch of how my act was going to go when Madamoiselle Zebrowski's voice reentered my consciousness.

Showtime.

And when you finally get up there, and grab the mike in your hand, and look across that sea of faces, you know it's time. You know this is what you've been waiting for. And once that moment hits you, you're ready, whether you know it or not.

I didn't even know what the word "nervous" meant anymore.



Oh and by the way, everybody else rocked like the neolithic age. You guys have got some real talent, and you have no idea how amazing I thought everybody was. Saying that I was impressed would be far too condescending. Let's just say that if there was a word for "amazed beyond the capability of the English language to express that amazement," I'd use it right about now.

Also, I am no good at taking compliments. So thanks to everyone who told me good job. I appreciate it. Mucho. Tonight has completely made my day/week/month/existence.

Growing Up

So, differential equations. Exactly as hard as it sounds. I made two dumb mistakes on my first Diff. Eq. test. Probably got something in the mid-70s. Nice temperature. Not so nice grade.

But there is one thing I really like about the class. I'm not treated like a kid anymore. I don't need to feel guilty when I miss class, or don't do homework, or bomb a test. Hey, it's my life, my responsibility, and I do enjoy it so much when other people don't feel the need to try and tell me what's best for myself.

Welcome to being your own reason.

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Now for something a little more light-hearted.

I wore glasses today, for the first time in never. I also dressed up a little bit for the IB and senior pictures. Yeah, call me old-fashioned but I still like to look just as bad even as I try not to. But apparently, when I do both of these things ON THE SAME DAY, I turn into a different person. According to some sources, my dad.

Even Mr. Burton asked me if this was my new look, or just something he hadn't seen before.

Yeah, that's it. My new look is to look like my dad.

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-- Homer opens his fortune cookie and reads his fortune.

Homer: [reading his fortune] "You will find happiness with a new love." [out loud] Aw, even the Chinese are against me. [sigh] What's the point? I can't fight fate.

[In the kitchen...]
Man 1: Hey, we're out of these "New Love" cookies.
Man 2: Well, open up the "Stick With Your Wife" barrel.
-- Controversial fortune cookies, "The Last Temptation of Homer"