Choir Concerts and Cute Paramedics

So, never let it be said that the Westminster Chorale doesn't know how to go out with a bang.

The bang in this case would be the sound of one of the choir members hitting the floor during our last number. During When You Wish Upon a Star, somebody tugged at my sleeve and I look to my left to find one of the ladies on the ground and two of them trying to wake her up.

The show went on for the last 30 seconds and I managed to belt out a last high note before we found someone to call 911 and literally asked for a doctor in the house. Actually, the accompanist's wife was a nurse, and she was already up there.

We skipped our encore song, turned off the stage lights, and turned on the house lights. We'd been complaining all night that it was hot as blazes in that room. I'm really hoping she just fainted from heat exhaustion and not a heart attack. Apparently she had one 5 years ago.

Anyway, after all the hullaballoo, I made off with a couple of dozen cookies and headed off to Rob's grad party, which was pretty much over by the time we got there. No matter how many times I protested, Rob's mom, after finding out I hadn't eated since three, cooked a dinner for me. She was really sweet.

The next morning I went to the 3rd St. Promenade while Liz went to marathon practice. A rather annoying homeless guy decided to sit at my table in Starbucks.

"What are you writing?"
"My novel."
"Is that Arabic? What does it say."
"I can't write while someone is watching me."
He continues to stare at my notebook. I pick it up and hug it to my chest.
"Yeah right," he says. Later he picks up a paper and the Starbucks employee has to tell him firmly they are for purchase only. After one last pass, begging for change, he finally takes off.

At 9:00 I headed over to B&N and bought the new Princess Diaries book and did a bit of research for class.

Liz and I went to a place called The Daisy Cafe for lunch and then crashed at home. We watched The Last Emperor, and The Sheik. I don't get the Rudolph Valentino thing. He just seems goofy to me. The whole plot of the movie could have been ripped straight from a trashy romance novel. Independent girl traveling through the desert gets help captive by a Sheik, who's not really Arabian at all, he's actually English/Spanish. She tries to run away, but ends up falling in love with him. Just as she realizes this she gets kidnapped by the bad guy bandit and the Sheik must rescue her. See? Trashy Romance Novel.