Friday is Sigh-Day...

I feel good, just pulling out of this nasty sore throat that everybody at UMSL got. I had a productive week, playing in a talent show, taking on three articles for the paper, and getting all of my homework done. To begin, the talent show. It happened on Wednesday at at the South Campus Honors College, in the chapel. About fifteen people/groups competed in all. I and a good friend of mine, Lydia, played three songs with both of us singing and me strumming.

We played "Televators" by the Mars Volta, "Smugglers" by George Cavanaugh and the Browne Sisters, and "Baby, One More Time" by Britney Spears- as a sort of treat for the audience for sticking through our more thoughtful first two songs with us. It was a lot of fun, we sounded fairly well and came second in our category. Now, there was only one other guy in our category, but still. He won (after singing "My Wish" by Rascal Flatts along with a recording) when the audience applause-o-meter (the chosen method of judgement) was sent soaring by his two adoring and hideously vocal gal-pals who jumped and screamed like banshees at a barn-raising. They were pierced, spike-haired hipstresses who could be heard saying "he's so adorable" about their effeminate boy-toy and laughing at his every flamboyant gesture. I mean no slander to him. He sang very well and wholeheartedly and seemed a perfectly nice fellow. He just needs to lose the dimwitted duo that comprised his screeching posse.
All in all, it was a fantastic night in which I had the pleasure of watching three operatic pieces, a virtuoso four-mallet marimba performance (my favorite of the evening), a delightful barbershop quartet, a jazz trio, and much more. And there was free food, always a selling point.

I had a dream some months ago in which I was back in beloved Boerne at my Aunt Betsy (hey you!) and Uncle Mike's house. I and all of our family was there as we often are in the summer time, and we were all having a great time. The, my grandpa Stewart entered and took his place in the rocking chair he had so often sat in before his death a few years ago. He was talkative and lively and I didn't think anything of it in the dream, until I remember suddenly that he was dead.
When I asked my aunt Betsy what was going on she said, "Oh don't you know?" and then explained that there was a new company/service which provided look-a-like actors who would study up on deceased loved ones of clientelle and then dress up as and "be" that loved one for a holiday or other such event. I looked more closely at my grandfather and only then realized some slight distinctions in his appearance from my real grandfather. I was quite taken with this idea in the dream, and upon waking, decided that it was a crackling-good idea for a story.

I began to write this short-story yesterday and should I complete it, will post it here.