Second Snow
I stepped out into the weather after a wonderful Thanksgiving dinner with Mykala; we had accidentally attended the lovely candle-lit, whitish tablecloth affair put on by Saint Thomas Food Service. Standing at the marble porch of Murray Herrick Center, I briefly contemplated the mix of snow and rain fighting for a majority of the precipitation. I swept loose fall slush from my handlebars and seat, stooping to unlock my bicycle. As I struggled to pop the frozen lock, I heard a heavily accented voice from behind me, “So confusing!” I turned slightly, seeing a young man from Africa walking past. I realized he had been talking to me. He added, “… just don’t know what to make of it.”
This much can be said for break so far: my dreams are getting more interesting. Just this Christmas morning I dreamt I was the leader of an archeological team in the 1930s which was excavating an unopened tomb; we were attempting to remove all the precious objects before being killed by a rebel team. Let me tell you, you think the insides of an Egyptian tomb are creepy in pictures - try being pursued by villains through the columned rooms of the darkest, scariest, most randomly shifting burial ruins that your mind can come up with. Suffice to say, I really was quite awake this morning even though all our presents were opened the evening before.
Friday saw me seeing my first Ballet (The Nutcracker, which is a good first, I think). The overall experience tended more towards vignettes than I would have originally thought, but I think this worked very well. Miss K(B)J Lind (I just invented that name code) performed flawlessly: I think dancing with the Moscow Ballet would be an incredible experience. In an analagous situation (me playing in an internationally known orchestra), I would have fainted.