Today was quite a fine day.
I scurried along in a car with my mother, far far away. Upstate NY, actually. Well, anywho. I took some pictures, drank some soda, and searched for a place that would give me a tattoo for 20 bucks.
But don't worry, it's all good. I'm just chilling out at my apartment as of now, listening to an adorable little girl play French Horn down the hall.
I like it, because it reminds me of when I played baritone in 4th grade.
Imagine: 4 foot 9 inches of pure angst walking the halls of an elementary school, hiding behind a humongous brass instrument (to avoid questions from classmates.) As if being weird and obsessed with the paranormal wasn't enough already? Ugh. Sometimes I hate music class. I wanted to play the drums! But no! BARITONE???
You know what, screw it. I was in 4th grade...
But still. Ugh.