_sarah_

I went over to a friend's to watch "The Pianist". It was out-fucking-standing.

Now I can't wait to get my hands on a piano. Thankfully, I'll be up north in a matter of days, and I can play and play and play and play until my fingers scream for mercy.

And then I'll play some more.

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Some people just piss me off.

Apparently, my doctor called about my pap smear last week. I JUST got the message, and it's only because my housemate overheard another housemate and I talking about doctors and stuff. My doctor is out of town now, so I had to leave a message with the clinic.

I cannot BELIEVE she forgot to give me that message. Doctors only call if the pap smear is abnormal, so it's pretty fucking important to get that message to me, wouldn't you think?

*growl*

The good news is that pap smears are known for "false" abnormal readings, but it still means I have to go in for another one just to be sure. With my chances of ovarian cancer, I am not a happy kitty right now.

(I'm optimistic about the tests... I'm not happy with my housemate)

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Have you ever heard a song that just brings you to tears with its beauty? If not tears, you just want to turn it up REALLY LOUD and lay on the floor, letting it surround you and penetrate you and run through your blood until it lifts you in a frenzied haze of pure aural stimulation?

I'm listening to one of those right now. As un-Christian as I am, this song never fails to make me catch my breath during the last minute or so. Michael Crawford doing "O Holy Night". Good fucking God. The way he hits those high notes... I could just shriek in ecstasy.

Audiophile? Nah... not me.