Not exactly the plan, but OK...

Here's the pre-recital scene:

Somehow, because God likes to pick on Amanda when she's freaking out, the water main on River Street burst Sunday morning. There's no water in the music building at three. OK. No problem. I just hope no one who comes to my recital has to pee.

Three thirty.

We're all in our places with bright shining faces. Cheesecake has been brought in. Tracy and I are dressed, warmed up, and ready to go. I'm sounding really good. Parentals are all present and accounted for. The first wave of friends have begun to arrive. I'm standing in the hallway near the recital hall, chatting with Blake, Derek, and various company. All there is to do is wait for four PM to arrive.

BLAAAAAARRRRRREEEE.

The door I'm leaning against begins to close on me. Strobe lights are flashing.

Me: What the FUCK?

Yes. Twenty minutes before my recital, the freakin' FIRE ALARM GOES OFF.

We spend a solid three minutes not going outside, all kind of glancing at each other with stupid looks on our faces. Finally we all meander outside, standing just outside the doors, all forgetting our Elementary School Fire Drill Safety. (Fifty feet from the building, everyone!)

After awhile, we hear the sounds of the Fire Brigade coming to rescue us from the flaming (and when I say flaming I mean, "completely not on fire at ALL") music building. So they wander around in there for a few minutes, basically scratching their butts and mumbling into walkie-talkies. Finally one of them steps outside and says, "Does anyone know where room 119 A is?"

So here's the problem with having a boyfriend who is in the employ of the music building and is not an asshole. He says "Of course I do! Here, let me continue to freak out Amanda and go inside to find it for you!"

I would like to take this opportunity to summarize: It is now ten minutes before my recital is supposed to happen. It's freezing cold outside and my lips are slowly but surely drying out. The music building might be on fire, which would put our awesome cheesecake buffet in serious danger. To top that off, my boyfriend is going into the music building TOWARDS THE FIRE.

All in all, not one of Amanda's more calm, cool and collected moments.

Well, in the end, the water had cut back on, which for some reason made the music building shit itself and set off the fire alarm. So we went back inside and the recital went as planned.

But more importantly, the cheesecake was safe.

College Kid's Guide to Dirty Dishes

1. Walk in. Smell. Say, "I have to do the dishes TODAY."

2. Watch a movie.

3. Repeat steps 1 & 2 for a week.

4. "OK, seriously, I have to do the dishes."

5. Have a beer.

6. Call Derek/S.O. of choice.

7. Watch House.

8. Repeat steps 6 & 7 at least 4 times, replacing "Derek" with "Mom," "Dad," "John," "Connie," or "Shirley."

9. "OK. No more procrastinating."

10. One more beer.

11. Empty the sink, moving all dirty dishes to the side.

12. Clean the mold out of the bottom of the sink.

13. Using the Sponge of Questionable Nobility, use cold water and destroy all ecosystems out of the first sinkful.

14. Once the chunks have washed away, use scalding hot water, the Most Honorable Sponge, and liberal amounts of Dawn to clean each plate, fork and spoon individually.

15. Repeat steps 13 & 14 until the hot water runs out.

As this was all happening, I kept thinking, "There has GOT to be an easier way to do this."

Oh, wait. Maybe...DO IT AS IT HAPPENS LIKE SHIRLEY HAS TOLD ME SINCE I WAS FOURTEEN.

Sigh...

I fail at this game.

Amanda's Brain: It was cold yesterday! I will prepare for today.

Amanda's Wardrobe: Sweater, Courderoy Jacket

Amanda's Marching Band Tempurature: 78 degrees.

FAIL.

In other news, I have been insanely busy of late. But I passed my recital jury, and didn't completely suck at the Wind Ensemble concert, so that's all going well.

Life is pretty fantastic right now, even if my internet time is currently "Check CNN...check BBC...go to class." So that kinda sucks, but the Parkway is amazing on clear early-autumn nights.