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September 13, 2003, 8:41 p.m.

Today was... odd, and understandably short. I woke up this mornin' about five times, because mom insisted on getting me up early before Alice got here. I thought it quite annoying, since she wouldn't arrive 'til 9:30, supposedly.

She arrived at 9:45, only to be greeted by my dog while I shuffled to find some socks to put on before we left. Surprisingly, Boo-boo didn't jump on her, but he's a slut for petting. He'll go up to just about anyone for a belly rub and a pat on the head.

Slut.

Anywho, we left soon afterwards to Southwest Miami High, and mom tried to embarass me by singng the Wizard of Oz song. Alice started giggling and I asked her to stop.

"Well, sorry if I embarassed you, Allison!"

I like my mom, though. Love her to death, but why does she do that?

After arriving at the school, we met up with Jorge and Keriane, both of whom already did their auditions, save for Keriane's flute one (she auditioned on piccolo as well). Alice and I warmed up and this kid came up to her that I recognized from 8th grade All-County orchestra.

"Are you Alice K?" he asked.

"Uh... yeah?"

"Oh, I've heard so much about you! We have the same teacher."

"Oh, cool."

"I've always wanted to meet you, but we kept getting put in different bands."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, last year I was in the All-State band, and you were in orchestra. God, I thought I was never gonna meet you!"

I said hi, of course, but he kinda looked at me like I was stupid, so I backed off. Later he came up to me and said, "You were in All-County, weren't you?"

"Yeah."

"And you didn't say anything?"

"You kinda gave me the 'who the hell are you?' look."

"It took me a second to recognize you."

Yeah. Anyways, I listened to Keriane's audition. She didn't make it, I know. She's not bad or anything, mind you-- not at all. But you can't screw up once on that kind of audition, or it's blown completely.

I went afterwards, feeling mighty confident, but that all changed when I felt the coldness in the room.

Cold rooms kill my playing ability. My hands are always cold, but when they get into contact with a colder room, they freeze up and become a bit delayed in their movements. 'Tis why I started to freak out.

I played both etudes perfectly, which is surprising, but with the cold hands, my fingers lagged a bit on the B flat scale, so one got the impression of me falling over my notes.

And the same repeated on my chromatic scale.

Yep, I'm not getting in. But life goes on.

After me went Alice. That boy who followed us to our auditions asked me if she was any good. Well of course she is! This is the same girl that made first chair All-State orchestra last year. You'd have to be the best in the state in our division to accomplish that.

Anyway, she played the first etude well, except she cracked on the high note, but played everything else absolutely perfectly.

Somehow, though, she believes that that one eensy beensy tiny little mistake'll kill her, and she tells herself that she won't get in. Whatever.

Inside the van, Jorge, Alice and I watched an infomercial on tv for a bunch of knives. We joked about how they said the knives were the safest you can buy anywhere, but sharp enough to cut a pineapple in midair.

"Oh, yeah, like that's safe. 'Here, let me cut that for you!' SWISH! 'Ahhhh, my hand!'" said Jorge.

Alice's phone rang, and she started bitching about how she didn't get in and junk to the caller. She said bye, but remembered something at the last second, but her mother hung up.
"Whore hung up." My mom and I stared at her with disbelief.
"Was that your mom, Alice?"
"Yeah," she said calmly.
Our expressions deepened. "And you just called her a whore?"
"What? No. I said 'Or hang up!"

"What happened?" said Jorge, confused because he was on the phone with his niece. "I heard the word 'whore'. Thought you were calling me."
"Why would anyone call you Whore?"
"Whore, Jorge [pronounced horehay]."
"Oh." Suddenly the van burst out with laughter.

Oh, what a day!

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