— fifty miles of elbow room

Dear Myers-Briggs-identified E-S’s,

You guys make me CRAZY.

Best,

Talia

*pause*

Okay, I’m not done.

I realize that no personality exploration method, or whatever, is perfect. I realize that compartmentalizing oneself to a single type is silly and maybe even detrimental. But — by jove — MBTI has helped me WORLDS in understanding myself and others around me, or at least giving me some tools to figure this crap out. I feel SO strongly about this. You know what else I feel strongly about? S’s and how they drive me kind of crazy, and particularly if they also happen to be extroverts and can’t internalize their S-y selves and have to talk about it out loud.

Also, I’m glad I can identify this behavior and know that it’s actually a part of somebody’s personality and NOT just a fatal flaw of theirs that they could help correcting. Crazy as the S’s drive me, I still want to get along with them and be friends with them, and can do it when I have the energy and patience.

So. That.

And stuff.

John Green, as always, says lots of things better than most people.

I don’t have a nerd-crush on John Green. Not I.

NYTimes: Slowly, as Student Debt Rises, Colleges Confront Costs

All of this is amazing and horrifying and SO VERY FASCINATING. And also horrifying. Did I mention that?

I had a very involved discussion with my father about college and the cost of an education and by god, we are screwed. So screwed. Did you hear that that illegal immigrants have actually started going back to Mexico because things are so screwy here? It’s just like that episode of South Park. Uh, er, I digress. Education. It’s important. And why can’t people get one for nearly-free, like both my parents? Oh, what’s that you say? Government cuts to education? And the increasing costs of health care? And extravagant spending on things don’t exactly make a huge difference? Oh, right.

I feel so lucky. I went to school at a good state university, and my tuition was half of what it would have been because my parents were employees of another state university. They paid for that remaining sum, and then they paid for about half of my graduate studies, the other half being taken care of by graduate awards and a federal student loan. I’m paying off the loan myself, and only have another $10,000 to go which is NOTHING compared to a lot of people I know. I feel so ridiculously lucky.

So I thanked my Dad, during this conversation we were having about the difficulties of getting and paying for an education in the United States, because without he and my mom I would be pretty sufficiently in debt right now. And my Dad said that he and my mother felt strongly about paying for their kids’ education, because that’s what their parents did for them.

And I want to do that, for my hypothetical-future-children (just typing that made me throw up in my mouth a little). But if education is going to become something only the wealthy or upper-middle-class can afford (actually, to some degree it already IS something only wealthy or upper-middle-class can afford) without incurring hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of debt, what will I be able to do?

So, to conclude: :(

Finally, finally, I finished Battlestar Galactica. It is one of the best of shows and I look forward to rewatching it. Not to mention the part where it consistently made me cry, more than any show in the history of things I’ve watched has made me cry. WHICH DOES NOT EMBARRASS ME TO ADMIT (Or does it?). As has been frequently mentioned here, I am good at feeling all the things.

(And I definitely super-cried during the final episode. … What do you want from me?!)

But look, see, here’s the thing: A) I feel all the things and B) There is like a property of sympathetic crying, or something, in which a person (specifically this person) is much more susceptible to getting all teary-eyed if another person is crying first. And let’s face it, a lot of people cry IN Battlestar Galactica. Not to give anything away, or anything, but some people die. Just a few. And there’s a lot of inner turmoil and whatnot. And all of this leads to crying. Which always leads to MORE crying. Do you see where I’m going with this?

 

I am taking active steps to counter the Mahler symphony that is doing its best to embed itself into my music-brain (and also prevent me from SLEEPING).

I am doing this with Animal Collective. Possibly this song, possibly on repeat.

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This is possibly one of the best songs. Don’t argue!

I keep getting impulsive and having these thoughts that I’m just going to pull an all-nighter and finish Battlestar Galactica. I just. WANT TO FINISH IT. RAAAGH.

I don’t just want to finish this stupid show because it’s completely engrossing in every possible way and I’m eager to know how it turns out. I want to finish it because it is causing me actual distress which I would appreciate being done with already. This show causes me to actually, really feeeeel my mortality kind of a lot, not to mention some impending apocalyptic doom-thoughts (which, given the state of things in the world, I don’t see as a total over-reaction by my brain). Seeing most of the human race being destroyed in nuclear war and then engaged in some demented cross-universal game of chess will DO this to a viewer. And frankly, I’m tired of it! I’m tired of being depressed by a freaking TELEVISION show, albiet a GREAT television show that is actually causing me to think. That’s the best kind of television show or music or ART OF ANY SORT — the kind that engages its audiences and causes said audience to think.

I’m just tired of this sense of gloom-and-doom.

I have five episodes left, and while I know I could knock it all out in one day, my schedule will prevent this. I’ll have it finished by Friday.

So, I was offered a position in the Civic Orchestra of Chicago, which I have accepted. Here is a rambly pro/con narrative of sorts to capture all my feely feelings.

Pro: I won an audition! Given, a recorded audition for which there were multiple spots open, but an audition! And…

Pro: Winning said audition validates a lot of things I had started to doubt, including my own playing and musicianship in general, my ability to stay cool and be confident during an audition, and also the manner for which I prepared for said audition which was, if I might say so myself, extremely efficiently. To take what J said, I was like Seal Team 6, and I shot that audition in the eye. Major serious props to that Win an Orchestral Audition class I took at Eastman, because even if I was all “meh, whatever” at the time, all of that has stuck with me.

Con: The pay is…eh!

Pro: Hopefully the connections I make from being in this orchestra will provide more work! Also, being paid ANYTHING to do something weird and artistic and specialized (Okay, but the thing is that if I keep justifying myself like that, I’m going to end up living in a box at some point).

Con: People tell me the conductor is crazy.

Pro: Conductors are crazy. I’m pretty sure that’s in their job description. The more applicable question in this instance: is the conductor a smarmy ass-hole? From what I hear, this guy is not. So. Okay.

Con: People tell me that some of the members of the orchestra are younger grad-school types who feel ENTITLED to things and have ‘tudes. This sort of thing drives me crazy. But. I’ll counter this by caring a LOT and feeling all the things, or whatever.

(Look, I don’t mean to break out into a mini-rant here, but I care very deeply about orchestras and classical music and music in general and the preservation of such things. Not just because that’s my line of work, but because it is AWESOME and effects people and is completely worth preserving for A LOT OF REASONS I won’t list all of right here. And in situations where musicians feel ENTITLED to something, like just being in an orchestra for the sake of being in the orchestra but not doing the practicing or the work involved OR the musicians involved are apathetic and just trying to earn a buck, IT DOES NOT HELP. It shows. It reflects in the sound and the morale of the group which in turn rubs off on an audience. And this sort of attitude, whether coming from the musician or the conductor *becomes giant squid of anger* is giving everybody in the universe a reason to NOT CARE and also NOT FUND these really important things. So. The best I can do is care, no matter what orchestra I play in, Civic included. And feel all the things, as was previously mentioned. I am so good at that)

But that also brings me around to this particular Pro: this will allow me to settle in a community where there are OTHER MUSICIANS. Other musicians who are MY AGE, some of whom perhaps want to create cool things and WEIRD SOUNDS. And, man. I need that right now.

Another Pro: living in Chicago. And the people and the things. And the food. The food, yes.

So. I’ll take it!

Hey guys, remember that one time where I went to see a LIVE TAPING of Wait Wait Don’t Tell Me and I met Carl Kasell and Peter Sagal who I had no idea what to say to so I just kind of went “BUH” and then also PAULA POUNDSTONE WHO I HAVE ADORED SINCE KIND OF A YOUNG AGE?

(She was super-nice and funny and deflected all of my awkwardness)

Yeah. It was okay. Not hilarious, or anything.

Also, I hope I didn’t get any of them sick.

Nothing like post-travel sick-dreams of the social anxiety variety to make a girl feel lively. I woke up a number of times in the morning and every time I fell back asleep I had a different anxiety dream.

The best I had: supposed to leave to go…someplace, with some people, in a car. I’m so busy not being able to find the stuff I’m taking with me, and the car leaves without me. I try to catch up with them, thinking that, okay, at least I can grab a bicycle or something. But there’s about a foot of snow on the ground and all I can find is a sled. So I sled after the car — I careen down some hills really fast and it’s kind of fun, and then I trudge up some ever-so-slowly and painfully. Finally I reach the car, I get in, and Michelle Obama is there. She looks at me and says “you need to believe in yourself, and not give a crap about what other people think.”

Thank you, Michelle Obama. You kick ass all over the place, not just in my dreams.

I only have one rule of personal style: match everything to your glasses.

Which I do.

It means that I’m always wearing purple. Or a vertical stripe. Or BOTH. VERTICAL PURPLE STRIPES HURRAH.

Other than that, who cares!!