Glieuaeiel's DJ

Improv Singing

I'm in a music class. As a warm up exercise to break the ice at the first class, the instructor has us walk around an outdoor path one at a time, improvising a song. Topics of the song can be stuff about ourselves, expectations for the class, or other similar things, and we should try to make the words rhyme. The path is about a quarter mile long, but it only takes about a minute to stroll around it. I'm one of the first people to go. I'm pretty proud of how my song turned out. The tune was interesting and I managed a few good rhymes, although I'm not sure I got any particular point across with the words--the organization suffered somewhat from the rhyming.

Farmyard Races

I'm watching a bunch of farmyard animals in outdoor races. Then I join a race to get back to the instructor. (The other racers are people in this same class.) I'm one of the first people to get back, which makes me rather proud. But then class starts, and things don't go too well. He's throwing balls at us, and we're supposed to catch them. But I'm having trouble following the ball with my eye, and once, somehow in the exertion of trying to watch the ball, I get saliva all over my glasses. I tell this to a teaching assistant, trying to explain my poor performance.

Demanding Customers

My parents have roped me into distributing materials to the people who came to attend an event. When it comes time, I go down to the basement, to the table behind which I'm supposed to work. Almost immediately, a demanding customer approaches me. She doesn't seem to understand that it will take time to fulfill her requests.

Frags:

• something about Seattle (which is interesting, because recently I was whimsically thinking what it would be like just to up and move to Seattle after graduating)

Frags:

• something about coding for a game involving mathematical symbols

Extra Concerts

Somebody's been adding extra concerts to the program. It's almost concert night already, and we haven't known about the concerts long enough to prepare adequately. The conductor advises us, in lieu of getting the notes right, that we focus just on the rhythms. She sends me and another musician out into the hallway to find a room to do some last-minute practicing. The hallway's crowded, so the other girl pulls me into a practice room. It's small, and there are no windows, so I find myself wondering if she plans to make out with me--though I realize maybe that's wishful thinking.

Even though I'm not a singer, I've been given a part to sing. But there's no music on the page; it's just the words. How am I supposed to learn the song if I haven't been told what the notes are? I try to look around for someone who looks like she knows what she's doing.

Now I'm acting in a demonstration of some kind. I have to improvise my choreography on the spot. It's kind of fun, though, because I have one of those wide brooms. I've always wanted to dance around with a broom. I'm in a department store, and I do some flips over clothing racks. Then it occurs to me that I could pretend to be Harry Potter and fly around on the broom, so I accelerate down an aisle and come crashing into the floor. I think it works pretty well as a stunt. Afterward, Mom tells me that she counted at least nine cool moves in my choreography, which is gratifying. Also, she says she saw one of our neighbors in the audience; maybe I should find him to chat.