beethoven's the fifth

this weekend has somehow made the transition from potentially phenomenal to incredibly stinky. first, my friend from minnesota was ostensibly thinking about flying in, but then he decided he didn't want to (which didn't really suprise me).
i was actually okay with that development (partially because i'm fairly certain he hates me) -- mainly because it meant i could jet down to sunny florida for the weekend to see my amazing friend lauren and probably rajiv(<-- !!). buuutt i've been on put on excessive amounts of vicadin for the ridiculous pain in my mouth and therefore, the pharmacist deemed me "unfit" to navigate an airport this weekend. that i couldn't deal with.
i can't even go to jill's grad party because i'm not allowed to drive. ugh. i hate being sick. i can't even remember the last time i even took medicine! moral of the story? come visit me or call me!!!

what happened on the way home from work almost made up for the miserable upcoming weekend, however. sidebar: in order to really get this, you prob should read the previous entry, but this is still funny in its own right. observe:

so, i was leaving work early so that i could get to my doctor's appointment (college physical), and speakers blaring, i'm merrily conducting away as i've passed the intersection of yesterday's "mishap" without event. all of a sudden i hear sirens and see flashers rapidly closing in on me (again!). i look down at my speedometer - eight over. "darn it," i think as i pull over to the side of the road.

i roll down the window, tears at the ready and prepared to cry my way out of my very first ever ticket ... only to hear "what symphony you conducting today, babe?" it's my friend, mr. trooper, from yesterday.

now, i'm actually just listening to an eric whitacre cd (yesterday was a string quartet tribute to dashboard confessional ;) ), but this bozo wouldn't know wagner from mendelssohn so i shoot him a glib answer: "beethoven's the fifth," i reply.

"i know this great little italian place nearby, want to explain the symphony to me over a late lunch?"

my initial reaction is to go: "WTF?!?" but, instead, i slowly give him a deliberate, assessing look: "no, thanks."

"why?" (he's moderately whining now)

here is where i should have informed him that i am only 18, or that i don't date anyone whose future doesn't include the letters MD, JD, PhD, MBA or at the very least MA, or perhaps i could have just shared the most pertinent fact of all...that i was late for my doctor's appointment. but my thought process at that point in time?: 'serena, you've caught yourself a live one...have some fun'

so, instead, i said: "well, there really isn't that much to explain, it certainly wouldn't fill an entire lunch date"

"oh?" (this was his intelligent response, possibly hoping we'd find some other way to pass the time)

"yea, this particular symphony was composed as beethoven was coming to terms with his homosexuality. listening to it has really helped me through the past few years, i find i identify with many of the emotions present in the piece."

"oh...." (same response, different inflection this time ;) ).

"see? that wouldn't have lasted us through the appetizers" and with that, i gently pushed his head back out of my window, rolled up the window and sped off, confident i wouldn't be flagged down.

priceless (really).

now, i'm off to go get high. come visit!

Y, serena