Oh, saxophonists.

It is insanely easy to make me happy. A hug, a touch, a willingness to listen, even a gorgeous day like today with warm sun and Carolina blue sky will put me in a better mood.

Example:Today I talked on the phone with my mom for half an hour. Generally, I call the parents, check in, find out what's new in their life, and then we hang up. Today I needed my mom like I was 6 years old again. How lucky am I that I can just call her up and she'll be there for me?

The flip side of the coin is that it is just as easy to hurt me or irritate me. Gosh, sometimes I wish I could turn off the emotion button in my body.

Example: One of my biggest pet peeves about Hill Hall is the sucky practice rooms. I don't mind when I'm down there and all I can hear is a cacophony of sound - violins, singers, pianists, clarinets, flutes all screeching away doesn't bother me. But what does bother me is when I'm smack next to either a) a non-major pianist who is an aspiring rock star/song writer and thinks that the key to getting the most sound out of a piano is banging the keys as hard as possible or b) a saxophone player. I just don't even have the words for a loud saxophonist. You just have to hear it yourself and you'll understand why I seriously contemplate spending 10 minutes packing up just to move down the hall.
Isn't it ridiculous that it irks me so much? Oh well, yet another fun little quirk about me.

... On another note, I have my most important audition this weekend. Think of me on Saturday at 3!