Freakishly Happy

Ranting:
My father is a wonderful whistler. On any given day growing up, I remember hearing the sounds of his piping, trilling throughout the house. If one could be a concert whistler, I think my daddy should definitely try at it.
I on the other hand gained my mother's abilites when it comes to whistling. As my sister Juli says, I sound like wind blowing over a coke bottle in the middle of a desert. I walk around whistling, and I really can only hit about 3 or 4 notes, ( 6 if I blow through my teeth, but then those are noises only dogs can hear). So really when I'm whistling say Vivaldi's Four Seasons, it really sounds like jingle bells, as that is practically the only song I can whistle well (because really there is no variation of pitch throughout the song).
As a child I could do this really awesome thing and whistle through my tounge. I'd curl it up, and make a noise similar to the one people make when they cup their hands and make that hollow, whistling noise. I could whistle any tune, and it sounded as it should. But then, as my sister Jaci predicted, my teeth fell out thus ending my time as a whistler.
If anyone knows where I can get lessons, please let me know.

Today was awesome. Simply put.
I woke up before 9 got wash cards, so new laundry is soon to be afoot.
Went for a walk/jog along a creek, in the cool dewy (make that rainy) spring air.
Talked to a nice old lady, who asked me why the heck I wasn't wearing a coat, as it was 7 degrees C. I explained I didn't have one, she laughed, and when I wished her a good day, she wished me a good day and good health despite being out in the rain without a coat.
I came home, showered, put on a new outfit and went to a meeting with a professor, and picked up my last grade from last semester. I got a B+ in the class, eventhough I should have gotten a D. I took the Grammar class at a really high level, too high, but I was able to get a grade for a lower level, thus improving my grade significantly.
As I walked down the street past some shops I heard the song, "I believe in Miracles, you sexy thang' which always brings back fond memories of my mom, and I skipped down the streets humming and swinging my arms.
I came back home, and John and I hung out for awhile. We were feeling silly, and he gave me an airplain ride. You know where you lay across the other person's outstretched legs, and fly like you're superman? It was great.
Then I took a nap. And went back into town to take care of some long dreaded errands, which turned out not to be so bad after all. and went to the doctor to pick up a perscrption for my hand, which has flared up again.

EVERY street corner had some sort of street musician. I walked past a brassband, an oboe player, 2 accordianists, and 2 guitarists. I stopped and listened to each one. First, I'd like to say that accordians ROCK. Say what you will, but if you don't think they do then you've never really HEARD accordians. If played correctly they are an intricate complex instrument somewhere between an organ and a violin. The guitar players were exceptional, I think they played a special song for me, because I stopped as I walked to the doctor's office and again as I walked back towards town, and the guy winked at me as I stopped agian. What made it particularly rockin' is I heard my favorite song twice by two different groups. Vivaldi's Four Seasons Spring. It was GREAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
On the way back from the doctor's shop I bought the shoes. The tall ones. Oh man, they are good. I'm going to practice practice practice walking around the house so I don't die when I try going outside. John and I are nearly the same height. Being tall is great because it makes my boobs look normal sized, like having 5 inches more leg evens things out.
So, tonight we're having fresh asparagus that I picked up at streetside stand today and fresh strawberries.
Yeah. Being a freak rocks.