William Matheson (nova_one) wrote,
William Matheson

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I am no one's Idol

Yeesh... I'm tired as f**k. I didn't get any sleep last night because I was worrying about 1) today's Canadian Idol auditions and 2) how the heck I was going to get there. Today Metro Transit is doing this fun thing called "special limited service" which means there are 8 routes running instead of the usual 40, the busses go all these weird ways they don't usually go, and there's no set schedule. On the plus side, they're free today.

I was also up late with my mother running different songs past her. It was time well spent. It was time that, were it not for my fear of embarassment, I should have spent earlier this past week. But I came away with two songs that I could sing really well. So, I'm not too worried about the auditions anymore... it's just everything else: the dinner theatre, getting into Journalism school (apparently the father of my mom's art student is in ill health at the moment, so I now have no connections into King's whatsoever), and trying to avoid the excessively negative people who do nothing but complain that Saint Mary's is the only open educational institution of any kind in the city today. Of course, they have a right to complain: getting in today was a b***h, what with the traffic being insane (assuming your car / street still isn't buried) and the transit system being on life support, and, of course, the other three universities being closed probably doesn't help their mood. Still, I have so much to complain about myself that I don't want their complaints on top of mine and as far as SMU goes I wasn't planning to come into class today anyway, but here I am, because I unexpectedly have time.

(Complaining sucks. I hate it when I have cause to complain. It's so negative. I think nothing sucks worse than complaining, and what really sucks is that all we seem to do is complain, which would be something worth complaining about but like I told you, I hate complaining - ugh. It also sucks - and here we're incorporating some of my laugh-a-minute astrobiology reading - that our tiny little ball of rock is the only decent oasis for complex life around here because the rest is mostly Space, and there's not much going on in Space because Space is the coldest, unfeeling, uncaring element there is - Space is a bastard. Space doesn't want us to be happy. But Space doesn't want us to be sad either. Space is nothing! Space sucks! I hate Space! This place blows. Gah... I hate being tired. And you know what else? I hate it when people talk about their new relationships or their anniversaries in their MSN display names! I hate it when people talk about their new jobs, new cars, or new topless girls at their house. I have had it up to here with people who think they have something to be happy about. Okay, I'm really tired. When I'm not so very tired, I think life is precious and wonderful and special and I try to see the positive side of everything. Right now I'm just positive that I hate everything, which is not so very mature, I suppose. And I hate it when people call me immature. You suck, too.)

I'm starting to realize that completing this self-indulgent "woe is me" post might not be the best thing to do. Let's just say that I wasn't exactly gifted with timing this morning and let's leave it at that. I'd also like to thank the drycleaners for not telling me that they reccomended my silk shirt be water-washed at my own risk when they handed it back to me, as if they thought I'd haul the shirt out of its protective bag and read the "Now hear this!" tag more than ten seconds before I needed to wear it. Mom drove me to the bus, but we had to sit for ten minutes waiting for the front-left tire to inflate. This has to be done every single time she drives her car anywhere. And then the bus finally came after my toes were starting to freeze within my good shoes, but it was full, and some of us had to wait for the next bus. I suppose I could have pulled a "I was here before you!" and got on it, but that wouldn't have been very nice of me.

On the plus side, I got a ton of pictures of the aftereffects of this truly epic weather event. I'm sick of weather events. No more, please! I also got to talk to Edgar at the Metro Centre, and I hadn't had a good chat with him in two years or more. Speaking of the Metro Centre, there are a lot of sluttramphos there today, and although I don't have a problem with sluttramphos, I do object to their presentation if they happen to be less than stellar-looking. The website says "dress to impress," not "dress to nauseate." If I were an Idol judge, I'd prefer to look at an ugly woman who dresses modestly than an average-looking woman who dresses such that you can count the abrasions on her breasts.

I also object to the people who sing loudly so that others can't help but hear. I am sure that is their intention. I watched one woman do this while she had her eyes closed and her fingers in her ears. She was a good singer and good looking, but with that "you all pollute me" attitude, I don't think she's getting anywhere.

Not that I think I'm all that. I'm just going in to do the best I can, because I have enough regrets in my life already, and I don't need another "What if I?" hanging over the rest of my existence. But the girls... just about all of them are at their prissiest and bitchiest and if there was much more 'tude in there today, I think the roof would blow right off. The men I saw tended to be more realistic. Most of them dressed well and didn't act like they were the greatest thing since such-and-such a trailer park girl didn't need a push-up bra anymore. Actually, some of these sluttramphos were in desperate need of bras. I love breasts, but it's all about the presentation, you know?

So anyway, the good news about Idol is that I have another 24 hours to practice before I show up there again before 7 tomorrow morning, to be one of the 200 people auditioning tomorrow instead of one of the 300 auditioning today. Apparently most of the people who got to audition today came in Sunday night (there were sleeping bags all over the place), which I might have done had there been 1) bus service and 2) a complete disregard of responsibilities on my part. But at least I still get to audition, though I'm kind of ticked that I'll have to wear my best clothes two days in a row... ugh. I also have to - HAVE TO - keep this carnival-esque braclet on me until I finish the audition process or get one of those numbers or something. I don't mind that, but here at school and in my forthcoming class I look like somebody who is relishing their visit to a water park or something, a month after it's over. I'm embarassed to be a part of this crowd I just spent the last few paragraphs bashing.

Okay, the text I'm typing is starting to look brown. Ugh. Maybe I can get some sleep before the lecture starts.

PS: You want a braclet and audition too, don't you? Okay, just make sure you get one before today at 5, or you'll have to wait for Canadian Idol 3, and hope they hold auditions in Halifax once again.

PPS: I saw _juju_ on the concourse today, with a subtle ammount of caution tape. Good for him.

PPPS: I know, I know, you don't want to audition because you've got other things on your plate, you're not a sell-out, you want to become a legitimate singer... yeah, those are the excuses I used last year when I was sick and didn't feel like auditioning.

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