ricoleeee

Turner substituted for Coatney yesterday and today. I daresay he is a far superior conductor that Coatney. Both are still a bit faggy, but at least we get legit teaching from Turner.

Turner: …Itzhak Perlman is the greatest violinist in the world.
Student: What do you think of Heifetz?
Turner: Heifetz is dead.

(continuation of this post)

… Anyways, the security gaurds started fussing, and then a lady holding a big stack of CDs announces that they’re doing a meet and greet for the first one hundred that buy a CD. Of course, in spite of the fact that I’m right-freaking-there, a mass horde of fat goth girls with no business wearing what they’re wearing skittered in front of me waving their twenties, so I couldn’t get one, but that’s okay. Christie, Benita and Sarah got it, though.

So many a person waited anxiously outside the door, exchanging promises such as “I’ll protect you!” and “If you get in my way, I will dropkick your firstborn child” - some promises to be kept, others not. The mad rush to the door was chaotic to say the least. I’m pretty sure I was supposed to be twelfth in line, but twenty douche bags cut me off. No worries. I got in, found Christie and Benita (Jessica no where to be found, but later we saw that she was next to Gregory and Tyler) and we rooted our feet up against the barricade. The super nice security guards let us dump or stuff in front of the barricade so we don’t have to hold it. How nice.

So, with Sarah and Annie on my left, and Christie and Benita on my right, we waited in anticipation for what we knew might be the end of us. But, first, we had to endure two other bands.

The first one…ah, I forgot the name…oh, Bleed the Dream (oh my dear god how emo) was pretty bad, but the band was nice and charismatic. The vocals guy is the one that insisted on a picture with Benita…I think. Yeah, they were bad, but nothing prepared us for the coming shit. This second band, called Fairyland to Mainland China (or something like that). They were some sort of abominable. When some of the band members came out, they were so obviously high…and hairy. At first we thought they were roadies. The one okay thing is that one of the guitarists kept giving out full, cold bottles of water. I caught a couple, I’d take a drink, and then we’d just pass it around. Camaraderie at it’s finest, no?

The lead singer of this shit-shit band must have thought he was super rad, because whenever he was not singing, he would do this bizarre flailing thing, like…can’t describe. Only thing I can think of is “SHAKING BABY SYNDROME!” The first time most people were obviously thinking, “Hm. Okay, whatever.” But then after the seventh time, “Okay, I get it!” Then after the twelfth time, “UHHNNN! NO!” And occasionally he would throw himself down on the stage and continue to convulse and…the music was terrible (if it could be called music) and icky icky.
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