Things I Do To Drive My Parents Insane (Part 1)

Again, this is a part one just because I suspect I'll have more to say about this later.

I love music. Not all music, (any song with the words honky-tonk deserves to go to the big incinerator in the sky), but a lot of music. I like to know songs well enough so that I can have them running in my head without earphones or speakers. It's like constantly being plugged into an ipod, even in No Hand-Held Electronics Zones. Like an SAT testing center, for instance.

I also like to know which song will play next on a CD. This doesn't involve memorizing the little piece of paper on the back of the case. Knowing the next note requires intensive training.

Which means that the CDs I really, really, like get played more than once. Or twice. More like fifty or sixty times. In a row. And I play them loud, because what if I need to leave the room and don't remember to pause it?

The Principal bought some Evanesence CDs. They've played nonstop since they came into the house. The Teacher has been contemplating murder under her breath. Fortunately I'm aware that I'm safe until the threats can be heard from the other side of the house. Then I'll start using headphones.

I think I'm a weird teenager, someone not fitting any patterns, and then I do stuff like this. I think adolescence may be unescapable.