Hello friends...(cough)...this is (whimper) Rebecca, speaking from the (strangled breathing) depths of isolation. It's been a long time.
Since my last entry, I have had many things to write about, but lacked the time and parental permission to do so.
Sigh. FABA is now over, meaning that I'm now free to freak out about other things--like the school play. Currently cursed with a cold and cough and sore throat, my level of paranoia is rising.
Anyway, back to FABA--it went pretty well altogether. (Despite the speech judges conspiracy against our school.) We managed to evade disaster and embarassment most of the day, with the exception of handbells. Allow me a few moments to vent my thoughts concerning this activity. Every Mon, Wed, and Fri morning, my troop of loyal comrades and I trudged to school in the early hours of the morning to practice. After setting up tables, sorting notebooks, pulling on 2 different sizes of white wrinkled gloves, and waking ourselves up with the shrill clangs of our bells, we began. There are 3 kinds of bellplayers. (or "ringers" if you so prefer) The first kind knows his music well, has perfect rhythm, can read music, and generally never makes a mistake. With the exception of Emily Rausch on a good day, these people are extinct. The second kind is more plentiful. This person has an overall eager outlook on life, and plays each bell with undampened enthusiasm (loud and strong!)-----4 pages ahead of everyone else. The third and final person is only partially confindent in his ability. He has his notes highlighted and practically memorized, but for some reason, the connection between his brain and his hands suffers a 5 minute delay. The result---he rings his bell 3 times after every missed note, hoping to compensate for his delay. Anyway, with a combination of these people, the Faith Christian School handbell ensemble managed to successfully masacre our song. It was an emotional time. As a matter of fact, when we realized the song was dying, we collectively took a step back from the table and participated in a very moving moment of silence. (Actually, we did all stop playing---with the exclusion of Tirzah, who continued to ring her bell mournfully while cursing under her breath.
Sigh again. O the drama.
I don't know what I'm turning into. Since my isolation, my sense of humor has rapidly declined--I have become a dry source of sarcasm. Also, I've adopted a frightening new habit.
RESPONSIBILITY. Somebody help!!!!!
Well--I have to go teach sunday school now--we're actually having an ice cream/movie party because it's my last week of teaching. (sniffle.)
Until next year. (Don't forget me!)
