Happy Easter, everybody! I was super excited today because this is the one holiday that Christians don't disagree on (except for Canadians, I think they have Easter Monday).
Yesterday and Friday, my mom had this huge garage sale that a lot of people went to. There were some really rude people, though. So I tried to stay inside as much as possible, playing piano and singing for the attendees' entertainment. They didn't really hear me sing until I sang the last, very high note at the end of The Phantom of the Opera. Yes. It is a high, high E. Here is an example:
If you don't want to listen to it all, just skip to like 4:00 or something. It's a really tricky cadenza.
Anyway, I woke up today and my body was sore. Jared was sick, but he still wanted to talk to me. He's so sweet!
I found a dress that I could wear to church for Easter, and it worked out perfectly. However, I can't sit in it comfortably in it. Bummer.
Now, there's nothing to do. The family can't come over, I'm too old for Easter eggs (but never too old for Easter egg CANDY!), and so I don't know what to do, now.
I wrote a skit based on a picture book. The book is The Composer is Dead by Lemony Snicket. A while back, Jared and I got presents from him, because I think one of my mom's friends is his secretary or something, and so he gave us those straight from his personal collection. Sweeeet. I got A Series of Unfortunate Events: The Bad Beginning and Jared got The Composer is Dead. I grabbed it off the shelf and began to read, and I realized this would be brilliant as an Indy Movie or a one-act play, so I started to write. I finished it last night.
The book is about a dead composer, and an Inspector, in my script, his name is Inspector Penway, thinks someone in the orchestra he writes for killed him. He's very stupid, though. The violins were playing a waltz, the cello and bass provided accompianiment, the violas were feeling sorry for themselves, the flutes were practicing bird imitations, the clarinets, bassoons, and oboes flattered Inspector Penway's jacket, the French Horns were taken out by the trombones to a club because they were feeling down, the trombones had too much to drink, the percussion was with them and was too beat to commit murder, the tuba was playing cards with the harp and the bass clarinet, who was never in the book, (now, the following were never included in the book as well) the alto saxes performed a trio at a jazz concert of some sort, the tenor sax was ill, the baritone sax was sorting music for the next concert, and the baritones were practicing, but we never found out what the conductor was doing. Then the orchestra siad that when theirs orchestra, theirs murder, and that's that. Later, they find out it was the French Horn. Tee hee!
I want to produce it, though, as an Indy film. Should I or shouldn't I?
Well, I guess that's all for now. Happy Easter.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It's the good girls that keep diaries. It's the awesome girls that keep blogs.
Yesterday and Friday, my mom had this huge garage sale that a lot of people went to. There were some really rude people, though. So I tried to stay inside as much as possible, playing piano and singing for the attendees' entertainment. They didn't really hear me sing until I sang the last, very high note at the end of The Phantom of the Opera. Yes. It is a high, high E. Here is an example:
Anyway, I woke up today and my body was sore. Jared was sick, but he still wanted to talk to me. He's so sweet!
I found a dress that I could wear to church for Easter, and it worked out perfectly. However, I can't sit in it comfortably in it. Bummer.
Now, there's nothing to do. The family can't come over, I'm too old for Easter eggs (but never too old for Easter egg CANDY!), and so I don't know what to do, now.
I wrote a skit based on a picture book. The book is The Composer is Dead by Lemony Snicket. A while back, Jared and I got presents from him, because I think one of my mom's friends is his secretary or something, and so he gave us those straight from his personal collection. Sweeeet. I got A Series of Unfortunate Events: The Bad Beginning and Jared got The Composer is Dead. I grabbed it off the shelf and began to read, and I realized this would be brilliant as an Indy Movie or a one-act play, so I started to write. I finished it last night.
The book is about a dead composer, and an Inspector, in my script, his name is Inspector Penway, thinks someone in the orchestra he writes for killed him. He's very stupid, though. The violins were playing a waltz, the cello and bass provided accompianiment, the violas were feeling sorry for themselves, the flutes were practicing bird imitations, the clarinets, bassoons, and oboes flattered Inspector Penway's jacket, the French Horns were taken out by the trombones to a club because they were feeling down, the trombones had too much to drink, the percussion was with them and was too beat to commit murder, the tuba was playing cards with the harp and the bass clarinet, who was never in the book, (now, the following were never included in the book as well) the alto saxes performed a trio at a jazz concert of some sort, the tenor sax was ill, the baritone sax was sorting music for the next concert, and the baritones were practicing, but we never found out what the conductor was doing. Then the orchestra siad that when theirs orchestra, theirs murder, and that's that. Later, they find out it was the French Horn. Tee hee!
I want to produce it, though, as an Indy film. Should I or shouldn't I?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It's the good girls that keep diaries. It's the awesome girls that keep blogs.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Bubbles says: COMMENT!