listening to: sigur ros – the nothing song
I had the strangest dream about CYSO last night. We’d just finished a run-out concert of some sort, but it was more like a U-High full music dept concert, even though nobody from U-High was there, only CYSO members. The building may even have been a subconscious play off of U-High, but much much bigger, and somewhere in the Chicago suburbs. Anyway, I somehow managed to befriend this little Asian boy who was searching for his grandparents in the building, since he had to return a blanket to them which had “Iowa” embroidered on it in huge letters. Anyway, there were numerous old people through the building, and he wasn’t sure what his grandparents looked like, so we ran around for a while trying to find them and failing. And then somehow we lost the blanket. And we stopped looking. And then his older sister came around, and she turned out to be the Japanese girl I talked to maybe twice this year, whose name is Ayane. Well, in the dream, as it turned out, she was half Japanese, quarter Vietnamese, and a quarter German. Which is very interesting, thank you, brain. So we left the school, and met up with their parents, who left Ayane and I to wander around by ourselves through whatever weird part of Chicago we were in (honestly it seemed more like Chinatown in NYC by this point). We found some restaurant, and she made me eat a supposely “traditional Japanese dish” that does not exist outside of my mind. But I remember not being hungry, and feeling very guilty about not wanting to eat whatever it is she was offering me. When there was a sudden comotion and she was distracted, I ran away.
Okay, now, I could point out numerous parts of this dream that make it perfectly clear as to why I had it. But I won’t, because it will probably be much more amusing for other people to do it on their own. I just want to point out how my subconscious mind likes to taunt me, in that Ayane is someone I talked to once during the whole year, and never really befriended, and in this dream, it was like we were good acquantances. Well, until I ran away from her, anyway. Sigh.
Hmm. So this morning, I was sitting at the computer, and my mom starts laughing and calls me in to her room. She was holding the Chicago Tribue Magazine, which occasionally features people modeling outfits that somebody in the magazine has put together. And who else would be in it, but the freaking principal cello of the Chicago Youth Symphony Orchestra himself, Abe. I just about died. I mean, Abe is like, the most fabulous cellist my age that I’ve encountered, and I won’t let the fact that he talked to me about once during the year detract from my general opinion of him as a cellist and probably good person (like I’d know), but modeling? Ahahahahaha….
Numerous things I need to do before I leave a week from today, some of them really starting to scare me. ANXIETY!!!