Sunday, March 14, 2010

Mental Map of My Mind

Yesterday, on a beautiful Saturday*, I went downtown to see a high school orchestra play at the Walt Disney Concert Hall. Why did I do this? Well, one, I went to support an awesome girl from my church, who plays the viola. Two, to go inside the Disney Hall, which was very cool. And three, because I love, I mean, LOVE, high school orchestras. There's just something exciting about the possibility of a freshman accidentally ripping a screeching sound off a violin, or the awkward kid, who "plays" the cymbals, to crash those mammoth things at the wrong moment or too loud. Oh, just the chance of disaster makes me get all sorts of excited.

Anyway, as I sat there listening to the orchestra, who I might add, was actually quite incredible, I found my mind wondering. It wasn't until the kid next to me whispered to his mom, "This is really boring," did I snap out of my trance and do a "mental map" of my thoughts. You know what I mean by the "mental map": the tangent thoughts you have from one original thought. For example, here was my mental map:

First thought: Wow, the orchestra conductor should really not wear black. With that lighting you can really see all the folds of back fat she has. Next thought: Back fat. I wonder if I have back fat? That woman has back fat. (Finding random woman in crowd) Why is that woman bobbing her head to the music? She's not at a freaking rock concert. I haven't seen a real concert in a while. I need to go to one before I get pregnant and can't do cool things. Next thought: Me with kids. I wonder if in fifteen years I'll be sitting in one of these things. Man, I hope not. What if my kid ends up like that cello player? Is that kid high fiving his friend after their part? What a loser. Man, I'm mean. That girl has got massive feet. How does she even...AND SNAP...that was my "mental map."

Try your own mental map. It's super fun. High school orchestras...not super fun.

*A total crime.

1 comment:

bfsoul said...

Kate, your musings make my day! L/M