the arrival of the queen of sheba.

Clearly, I am an artsy snob because I enjoy listening to classical music in my quiet time. Playing music during your quiet time kind of ruins the whole idea of "quiet time", doesn't it?

I'm pretty sure there is nothing wrong with this piece. It's just so fantastic.

We're playing it in orchestra and I can't wait until I can actually play it completely through. I want this song played at my wedding, not even kidding right now.

(Listen here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-TGKJ9MgCOQ)

Going to do a quick little rant about Rob and then I'm out for as long as it is until I write my next entry.

I've finally decided that if I lost your acquaintanceship, I could care less. You are nothing to me. I am nothing to you; the feeling being mutual. Here's when things get tricky. Every time I'm talking to a guy other than you, you find it necessary to walk over and join the conversation.

Look, you're not my "interest" anymore, if you ever were (What am I even saying?). You can leave my life whenever you want and I'll leave yours because obviously I left a mark as big as an ant.

I like how you have to emphasize that you will never cheat on Jenna, as if that wasn't the number one rule while being in a relationship.

Emphasize three times, I should say.

I came to this realization while listening to Oh Land's "Sun of a Gun" all day today. I saw you and I said, "I can do so much better! I don't need you! I don't need this crap." Or in the quick words of Muse's "Muscle Museum": I don't want you to adore me; don't want you to ignore me; when it pleases you.

Oh Land: "Too much of your like make me blind...but you left one too many times. I want to change the orbit, don't care what you do now. I want to live in darkness, don't want to be spun around."

Wait, I was just going to say, "Can I post the chorus?" and then I said, "Fuck, well this is my blog, I'll do whatever the fuck I please, fuck."

You go down, down, down I fall out of love with you Come back round, round, round You sun of a gun You go down, down, down This time I won't save you When you drown, drown, drown You sun of a gun You sun of a gun 

I know, I was never in a relationship with him, but damn, it sometimes felt like it.

I feel lightweight and free. Excuse me, I must go twirl about the basement and be happy again.