So, I woke up this morning and looked out the window and the sky was a funny colour, blue, I think they call it, and it was all bright and strange and there was this thing in the sky and I was just so confused.

I turned on the TV and they said that it was a beautiful day, but I'm certain that they were mistaken, as this is the Land of Rain.

So, yesterday I went to Easter service with the Callahans, who are mainly Presbyterian, so it was an All Protestant Weekend.

Cynthia invited me to sit in with the choir, but I demurred. Not because it's a Protestant choir, but because I'm shy of strangers and I didn't want to sing with a bunch of strangers with only one short rehearsal.

I ended up being glad that I didn't, because there was a child playing the trumpet with the choir on two pieces, and he was so bad that I either would have started laughing or screaming. Or running. While laughing and screaming.

"Blat blat squarnkle blat," it went, as I laughed helplessly in the back row. The main problem, of course, is that it's much easier to play a trumpet loudly than quietly, so when he could blast he was fine, but it's a small church and a small choir. He should have been muted, it would have been much better and he could have blasted to his little hearts content without everyone wishing that he were out in the parking lot.

I did silently point at the place in the music where it said "Optional Bb trumpet" to Fran, wondering why they picked up that option.

The service was good, more like a mass and less like a board meeting this time, especially since they had communion.

It was the hors d'oeuvre version, where they pass out croutons and shot glasses to the room and everyone chugged together, while singing a re-written version of "Drink With Me" from Les Miz. It was like a scene from a movie. Places in the Heart, actually. Except for the whole Les Miz thing.

The cool bit was that they said the Nicene Creed (Melissa did that pretty well, I thought, though I'm too anal not to have corrected her tiny mistakes), which they never say, so that everyone was staring at the page and reading carefully, but that's the one I know, natch, so I just got to happily say it.

Afterwards, there was a table of food, and I said "Gee, I notice that Jesus' table is nearly all sweets! I guess when he rose from the dead, he really really wanted a cupcake."

I have decided to start a new feature here at Prickly Land, a Journal of the Week thing. It's no different than highlighting new journals within the text of the entry as I discover them, but I feel like doing something different.

Anyway, this week's Journal of the Week is Elphaba, Diary of. As usual, I'm late discovering this shining new example of a tightly written journal, but what the hell, if I can't be first, I'll be loudest.

I read this in a day, loved every word, and you will, too. Elphaba knows how to tell a story, and the only real problem is the lack of back and next links, but that's Diaryland's fault, not hers.

So, go read her, she's great! Even if I'm not in her list of links...

Today's horoscope:
A change in routines is likely. You may alter the tasks, sequences of duties, travel routes, or other "predictable" parts of your day.

One year ago today:
"Fuckhead here just cut me off, and I can't find the horn!"

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Last Updated Mon 24 April 10:01:09 2000