January 5, 2008 at 4:12 PM
Yeah, when I say fight, I mean full on argument. I yelled, "You know what buddy, if your going to keep screeching at me, you can just pack your bags and leave."
So, I picked him up and put him in another case, the cheap kind that are lighter for shipping. I took him downstairs and announced to my family, "I am quitting violin."
My mom glanced at me and pooched up her lips, then turned back to her computer. She turned towards Megumi and said, "Megumi, every month, around that time (if you know what I mean), Anakin is going to pack up his bags and come to my house because my daughter always does this."
I screamed, "Hey, this fight was not my fault, first of all. He started scratching his fingers at me and snapping his strings and turnin' his pegs."
My mother ignored me. I walked to sit down on the couch next to her, and started to polish my violin and dress it for shipping. All the while, I did not stare him in the eyes. I gave him the silent treatment.
My brother came home from school and immediately saw the violin sitting on the couch, and since he was not accustomed to seeing my violin just out in the open, excluding recital days, concert days, and traveling, he immediately asked my mom, "Did Jasmine and Anakin break up again?" My mom just smiled and gave him the "what do you think" look.
Meanwhile, I was upstairs packing up everything Anakin related. I touched the "Art of Practicing" book, I had received as a present fom him a few years back and threw it into the box. "Stupid, Stupid man, violin, thingy box, piece of wood, dumb...!"
My mom purposefully did all her errands after 5pm so that she could say, "Darnit, the post office is closed. Guess you can't take him today, honey. Maybe tomorrow." I knew her game.
Well, when I went to bed that night--let me tell you.
I tossed and turned for several hours. I have a radio next to my bed and I usually put on some Midori or Mutter or someone. All night, I kept mentally practicing, since I had not really practiced for the past few days. I kept having the urge to apply what was on the radio. "Down bow," "up bow," "pizzicato," "hands resting firmly on the fingerboard" kept reverberating through my mind the whole night, where I finally sat up in bed and said, "Stop!" I looked at my radio and it was 3 a.m. I was in a puddle of my own sweat. I whispered to myself, "I can't believe I am going through withdrawals."
I fell asleep. I had a crazy dream about living in a treehouse with my family, dark and scary nights, and Joshua Bell. That's a totally new blog.
Anyways, I woke up that morning the first day of PMS passed and my violin and I made up.
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