...which occurs to me, oddly, as I am fighting with Rachmaninoff (and losing miserably by the way). I am just entering the Prestissimo (or wobbly andante in my rendition) of Prelude in C# minor when I wonder why my being pro-life makes me 'backward', unprogressive, oppressive, sexually repressive, and if I'm honest, a tad embarassed when spending time around my much more educated friends. At any rate, as half of my brain struggles with playing eights over triplets (i hate you Sergei!) the other examines what I have come to understand as the picture of the 'liberal' or 'democratic' twenty something versus the 'christian-conservative' 'not sure what party she votes for' that I am supposed to be. This really is not a good idea because I really need all of my brain for the Prelude.
I am like one of those irritating crossovers that can't decide if they are a sedan or an SUV and secretly wish they were an Outback (I know what you're thinking and no an Outback is not a crossover, it's awesome).
As I examine the elements that make up the "them" stereotype that plagues me, I realize how stupid this struggle is. I am sitting in my room trying to draw party lines to see where I fit when none of this really matters while I should be in the other room gearing up for round two with Rachmaninoff. Even fighting against the annoying clicks of my metronome *shudder* would have been more productive than spending the last 20 minutes trying to label myself.
But pointless musings are so much funner than metronomes.
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