Beach, Blues, and something else not starting with a B

Blue. Smooth, firm under my feet. Step... step... off. Woosh and silence. Blue. Bang. Crash. Darkness. Cold. Light. Wet. Ouch.

I swam towards the platform and got out of the water.

Yesterday we drove to Nyon (like 30 minutes away) and swam at the beach. We got there late, like at 5 or something. So I hung out with my dad at the dive platform, went off a few times and stuff. There was this guy in a blue speedo playing his guitar and singing, with microphone and video camera. Free entertainment. Then he walked around selling his CDs. He was American I think. His lyrics were in English, anyway.

Then after that we drove home and then drove to this birthday party for someone named Jenny that we did not know. The Canettes Blues Band (see their website on my "Check out some of these links!" section) were going to play, and our friend from there (Steve Goldfarb, the singer) was told by Jenny to invite lots of people. So we dragged Zach (he wanted to do his homework) and he stayed for an hour. There were a lot of kids. TONS of Chinese food. I got some and came back for seconds. Then they brought out this new load of chicken with peanut sauce, but the time my mom and I got there there were only a few pieces left. So I grabbed the last one, and then someone put two other pieces of chicken on my plate. I was aghast. I looked up and saw this tall 15 year old with blonde hair that looked a lot like Cal. I was too dumbstruck to say anything. I never said thank you. How rude!!! So then my mom had a small conversation with him and he resumed his place with some other like French guys.

At 9 this solo guy played some of his songs with his acoustic. He was ok. It was funny during one of his songs, because this kid had been playing with that string and plastic thing which he threw up in the air and caught in the string, then the guy missed the plastic thing, so it rolled down right next to the guitarist. He just left it there. Then the Canettes Blues Band came on and everyone started dancing. Some of them were really getting down. And then this one little girl started shaking her butt and dancing in front on me and my mom (we were sitting in the "front row") and then she looked behind her and noticed us, and then stopped. It was funny.

The bassist and guitarist looked like "The Blues Brothers" or whatever because they wore dark shades, a coat and a hat. They also had a harmonica- player who liked to get down. He looked sort of like Mick Jagger. The keyboardist was also good, and the drummer was a lefty. Then they added some woodwind to the mix. This guy played the tenor and soprano sax and was pretty good.

So then we had people working up a sweat shaking their butts and other assorted body parts, the singer walking around in the audience, the harmonica player really getting into it, and a group of French girls trying to grab their friends or people into the dance floor. Oh yeah! Let's totally add a little kid on a tricycle into the mix! This little, pudgy black kid came onto the dance floor, looking surprised or something at the people dancing around him. Then he came up right next to me and my mom and tried to move through the grass. He got this determined look on his face and pushed hard, saying "grrrr". I couldn't help but smile. It was really funny. Then he noticed me looking at him and tried harder Ha. I think his like mom came over to help him. That was funny.

I got tired. My parents went in to dance two times, which sort of irked me. My dad was... well, let's just say he wasn't the most hip dancer. They tried to get me to dance, but that would be like making me go into a make-up store. Totally against my "religion". So I didn't.

Then we left at like 11:30. We could still hear the music after walking almost all the way to the car (it was a pretty long way down this road). It was out in the country sort of, so not many lights were on. We could see lots of stars. I wanted to sleep under them, but it would have been.......... weird. It was still really awesome. Awesome.

I went to bed, having a weird dream about band.

Then we woke up at 9:30 to drive over to my dad's friend's new house. He lived on the hillside in some Switzerland. His name was Pierre. We had visited him 4 years ago when we were here before. He was still having his house built, but it was mostly built. Very very nice and big. He also re-married, to this Rwandian woman who also had 5 kids. They spoke French. So we had brunch and talked and had a little walk. Then my dad biked home and I listened to my iPod on the way back. I need Panic! at the Disco on my iPod. Along with lots of other stuff. AND I need Breaking Dawn, the 4th Maximum Ride and a hockey stick. We got a printer. I have my two French tests tomorrow.

It's the last day of August. I've killed off almost 2 months. I don't know how I feel right now. Happy? Sad? I think I'm just weird-ed out, which is not unusual. There is a gap. Poetry and writing helps with stuff.

I've still been thinking about that music video. I should be making some friends soon. My toes have little cuts on them, for some odd reason.

Things are shaping up to be pretty odd
Little beds in musical deaths
So it seems like someone I've never met

You will only hear these elegant crimes
Fall on your ears from criminal dimes
They spill unfound from a pretty mouth

Everybody gets there, everybody gets there, and everybody gets their way
I never said I missed her when everybody kissed her
Now I'm the only one to blame

Things have changed for me, and that's okay.
I feel the same, I'm on my way, and I say
Things have changed for me, and that's okay

I want to go where everyone goes
I want to know what everyone knows
I want to go where everyone feels the same

Panic! at the Disco- That Green Gentleman