Besides, it's my birthday. I'm 36. Mozart is 258. High five, Wolfgang Amadé.
Lou and I are going out to dinner tonight, and I'm going to wear a new dress I got thrifting; I'm very excited about that. Till then, I am celebrating by:
1. Registering to take the SAT.
I'm now officially twice the age of the usual college entrant. Whether that thought will be helpful or hinderful when my number two pencils and I are pitted against a series of lettered orbs in a roomful of teenagers, I'm not sure.*
What I do know is that I desperately need to give myself a refresher course on algebra. I shut my Advanced Math book on my seventeenth birthday with the same fervent glee Anne Shirley displayed in thumping Euclid into a trunk before she got married. I am not, however, willing to be like Peter:
|Some of these never get old.|
2. Taking the Firefly personality quiz.
|I KNEW IT. Now, if only I could use my wealth and intelligence|
to correct some quizmakers' grammatical ambiguity.
3. Working on A.D.'s story.
Writer's holiday: working on the novel that's not under contract.
4. Signing up to take six piano lessons. (Thanks, Lou and Mom and Dad S.!)
Because I am willing to be like Tony.
|Someday you and I will rule the world, Tony.|
Or—well, we would if we wanted to.
Ruling the world is a tough job for shy, hypersensitive artistic types.
And if I can get a job that will allow me to afford school and take lessons, that will be awesome.
5. Listening to Mozart.
Here's a Mozart piece I loved before I knew I loved Mozart.
And now I'm off, because I really do need to go study for the SAT. Wish me luck. I got very good grades on my GED.... in 1996. I am currently scared spitless.
* I'll try not to give in to the temptation to put rings on the little orbs so they look like Saturn. Wait. The SAT is still taken on paper, with dots to fill in, right? I'm assuming that's the reason for the number two pencils I was ordered in no uncertain terms to bring along.