I figured that I should post something today since this is the last time in four years I'll be able to post an entry on February 29th. Seeing as I don't actually have anything of value to say, this will probably be a little random.
So what does Leap Day mean to me? Basically nothing. In fact, I probably would have ignored the whole thing if it weren't for our "Leap Day Party" at work, complete with refreshments and about 50 people trying to cram into a conference room that typically seats 20 comfortably. I stayed in the hallway with the cool kids.
I've been reading a lot of memoir type books lately thanks to the "free book" shelf at work, which is quickly becoming my favorite workplace destination. As a result, I often summarize things in my head the way I would if I was recording them in my very own memoir. It's weird and a little bit annoying.
In other news, I'm pretty sure I offended my roommate last night when I chose to go in my bedroom and watch the New York Philharmonic playing in North Korea on PBS instead of hanging out with her and watching Food Network or some such channel. She seemed taken aback when I announced I'd go watch my orchestra show in my room. I was surprised that she's not yet realized that in my world, music often trumps socializing. Not to mention, I'd heard about this performance on the news earlier that day—it was rather momentous for a U.S. ensemble to play in North Korea—and I knew they'd be playing one of my all time favorite songs, An American in Paris.
They played splendidly and watching it made me long even more for Ravinia season (a.k.a. summer). I can't wait to catch some fabulous concerts this summer; hopefully they'll have a Gershwin night! It also further cemented An American in Paris as a front runner for my favorite song ever. I listened to it again on my way home from work. I think I blew out my speaker. Unfortunately, It wouldn't be the first time I blew out a car speaker listening to classical music. What can't I blow out my speakers with something cool?
That's all I got.