For want of a key...

Yesterday I locked myself out of my room with nothing but nightshirt, towel, and shower supplies.

How did this happen, you ask? Well, I'll tell you. (and if you didn't ask you're going to be told anyway)

Saturdays tend to be my do-nothing-until-noon-and-then-maybe-do-something-but-probably-not days. So it was noon. My alarm went off. I had forgotten that I had TMU practice at 1:00. I hadn't even brushed my teeth by this point.

"Oh crap," I thought, "I have to hurry!"

I don't know if I've mentioned this before, but the showers in the Lodge are not in the bathroom. There are shower rooms with stalls that you use like a public restroom. But with showers.

I scrambled to gather my shower basket filled with things useful in a shower and a towel. Dashing into the hall, I spun around and shut my door firmly, tugging it to make sure it was locked. Before my hand left the handle I froze; my brain belatedly reminding me I needed my keys and that they were still on my table. Inside the room I had just vacated. Behind the door I had just made absolutely sure was locked.

Isn't it (not) funny how your brain remembers exactly what you need the second after it's too late to do anything about it?

Anyway, I walked up the hall to my dorm manager's room and knocked. No one was home. So I took a shower.

Afterwards, I went back to her door and knocked again. Again, no one was home.

I couldn't call because my phone was in my room. And who brings their phone into the shower with them?

I thought about asking my suite mate to go through our shared bathroom and open the door from the inside. But then I realized that the latch that kept anyone from walking into my room from the bathroom was still in place. Having no other ideas I sat in the hall next to my door. I sat there until my butt went numb. That was when I decided that Mrs. Gaia wasn't coming back anytime soon and if I was going to wait I would dang well be comfortable.

I moved to the chairs set up front. Unfortunately, now anyone waking into the Lodge would be greeted by my damp and undressed self. Fortunately, Saturday was a lazy day for everyone else who didn't work that day, too.

One girl who was passing by lent me her phone to call Mrs. Gaia. I got her voicemail. By now I had resigned myself to missing TMU as well as any respect Mr. Meyer and my dorm mates ever had for me. I brushed my hair and covered my legs with my towel.

After an unknown amount of time I realized Mrs. Gaia's office door was ajar and decided to sit in there. That way both I and anyone passing by would be spared the embarrassment of seeing me.

I sat in there for perhaps fifteen to thirty minutes before realizing that this wasn't going to work. It was dark and boring in her office and sleep threatened me with it's soft, fleshy arms. I could only imagine how awkward it would be if Mrs. Gaia returned to her office with me sprawled out on the floor. So I moved back out front.

A boy who lives in the lodge came out and sat with me. We made some small talk. Eventually he tried to pick my door using a credit card. It didn't work since my door was fit too tightly in it's frame. I thanked him for trying, at once disappointed and reassured that my door couldn't be picked by a mere credit card.

He asked whether my suite mate could let me in. I explained that my paranoia about my privacy and a handy latch prevented that from being an option. My blond-haired attempted savior told me that from what he knew of my suite mate, I was more likely to enter her room than she mine. I refrained from explaining that I also used the latch as part of my Zombie Survival Plan. Should the dorm be overrun by zombies and my suite mate and shared toilet compromised, that latch would be one of the few things I could rally in defense of my oh-so-delectable brain against the ravenous undead hordes.

During this conversation, another boy had been walking between his room and a friends. He asked about the credit card trick. When informed that it had failed he suggested calling Security. I explained I had no phone. The hat-wearing boy suggested using the other boy's phone or the phone I had not noticed that was attached to the wall behind me.

Thoroughly embarrassed, and sure that both boys had doubts about the amount of digits in my IQ number, I went over to the bulletin board on which Security's number was posted.

The Security man who came over was very amiable and understanding about the whole thing. I cannot heap enough praise on his head. I should make him a card...

By the time I was able to enter my room again, any dim hope I had of making it to TMU practice very, very late was extinguished.

But at least I could finally get dressed.

The Temporal Mechanics Union a.k.a TMU

So I finally got to join TMU at my school! For those of you who don't know (which are many, I'm sure) TMU stands for Temporal Mechanics Union. It's an organization that gathers like-minded individuals to make music, taking influences from around the world and whatever our imaginations can offer. It's fabulous!

I wanted to join as soon as I found out what it was they actually do. (and it doesn't hurt that one of the head honchos is my favorite professor, hands down) But my CNA class and hectic schedule kept me from being able to join. Until recently.

This was the first rehearsal I went to, and while triplet is no longer a real word in my head (on account of how often i muttered it under my breath to keep time) I think I was starting to learn my parts somewhat correctly by the end of the meeting. I was playing on one of the handmade instruments. It's one of many, but this instrument was called Copperhead most likely due to the fact that it was made of wood and copper. It looks like a glorified xylophone, but it's very interesting. It has sharps and flats and double flats and double sharps and regular notes. I'm very impressed by the work and ingenuity that went into it.

I even got to mess around with the bass instrument known as the Medusa Oblongata, so called for it's many tentacle/snake-like pipes. You hit the openings of the tubes with the flat of a ping pong paddle to force air through them and make sounds.

And then I learned how to play a Conga drum (pronounced with an "oo" sound, so it would sound like Coonga). It was fun and fascinating and my instructors were very forgiving and patient.

Now I just need to learn how to play my part by heart before December 8th, so as not to shame the rest of the TMU members. I think I can do it.