...oh, lady be good...

I am forever going to be grateful to my mother for insisting that I begin and keep up playing the piano. Aside from the enjoyment that playing offers in itself, it's completely therepeutic.

Every mood has a piece. Today's was Chopin's "Revolutionary" Etude. Listen to the piece. My mood might be derived.

Then I played the Waltz, the long one who's work number I can never remember. But it's beautiful and challenging and the first "great" piece I mastered. It's my showcase. Except for when Houman plays it, and makes me look like an amateur. Which is why he is never allowed to play it again, ever. Despite the fact that it is also his showcase piece. He can have something else.

I will always maintain that the reason my mother would not let me take my piano with me is because she wants me to come back every now and again to play on it when I get missing of it. Because though I love the Trin piano, there is none like mine. Truly truly a beautiful instrument, and the best 12th birthday present ever.

This day was a trip. I am not a comfortable traveller and so would prefer to not have days like this again, alright? Thank you.

I'm going to go write to Sebastien now. Casual flirtation with a 32-year old French musician is *exactly* what the doctor ordered. And he is conveniently far enough away so as not to be a distraction in the real world. The real world which includes Bioethics tomorrow - a class which is hard supposedly, but interesting supposedly.

What does "natch" mean? When people say "blah blah blah... natch". What does it mean?

And to conclude - I love how people talk to me without greeting, misjudge my family and belittle it in a patronizing tone, then proceed to ask me for favours. I love this world. Crazy people, dontcha know.

Wait - I'm not done concluding. The phrase "good on paper". We need to further discuss at a later point, but not now because I'm tired and a letter waits to be written. But later, it will be said.