P.S.

listening to: steve reich – violin phase (14:37/15:19 minutes and it HURTS)

I would like to add for tonight that it is possible to listen to too much Steve Reich. This piece was cool for about three minutes. I wonder why I didn’t change tracks about ten minutes ago…

A Tiny Space To Move And Breathe Is All That I Would Ever Need

listening to: phish – dirt

So I “accidentally” opened Netscape. Stupid circular icons that all look the same to me. And I thought that while I had Netscape open, I would blog (since Netscape has become my blogging bitch).

Yeah. I’m tired as all hell. But I got a lot of cello-things done tonight, which is uplifting. And then I ran into my oboe-playing cohort, Mark, and we ranted about a lot of frustrating music-related topics. I love ranting. Ranting is made even better when you find another person who listens, understands, and can rant right back at you with full force.

I managed to spread the insult “ass-hat” to my Dungeon Dining group. (Iowa) Jamie was complaining about some random girl who is stalking one of our other dining cohorts, and actually managed to be fired from her job because of it. And Jamie said she was thinking of things to call this obnoxious when I suggested “ass-hat”. Aaah. I miss Rob. Also, Phaedra added what I think is a fabulous one to my pool of insults: “raging fuck-tard”. Aaah. Obsceneties.

Aaaah. It’s really hard to compose a consistent rant when I have distracting things on my mind.

Anyway, rant of sorts…I hate being babied. I hate it. I hate when people talk to me in a most condescending manner possible because they think I’m inexperienced. Rage. I feel pretty secure, as a musical person, a lot of the time. I feel like I know what I’m doing (which doesn’t necessarily mean I always do know what I’m doing, but it’s how I feel that counts, right?), and an occasional bout of mistakes or nervousness doesn’t do much to shake me emotionally, anymore. And of course other people I interact with don’t have to know this. I mean, how can they unless I’ve shared with them my thoughts? So I don’t assume that they do. But what hacks me off is that these same people who don’t know my feelings will thrust information and basic advice at me in a condescending manner, assuming that I am an oblivious and inexperienced lout. In my past experiences, I’ve had things expected of me that go way beyond this. A lot more. As for this orc…no, no, I will not go there (for the time being, we will assume that “orc…” really refers “orc” as in the creature). This is a very difficult subject to rant upon when I won’t go into specific detail. I really just wish that people would a) try to be reasonable, calm, and without the idea that other people are “raging fuck-tards”, and b) not bring their own insecurities onto other people who are only by-standers. As for a) I know sometimes I’m pretty bad at not being like…occasionally angry when things don’t go so well, but I’m trying hard to adjust my expectancies and whatnot (though it’s hard. stupid standards), and I think I’ve made pretty good progress.

Also, if I don’t smile at you and I don’t talk to you, it doesn’t mean I don’t like you. It probably means that I’m occasionally quiet and reserved (until I’m with animating friends) and just…not friendly. Yeah. Leave Talia alone.

Hmm. This is my current AIM icon. This is my lj icon. The away message I currently have up is: “H is for hurry, E is for urgent, L is for lovely and P is for PLEASE help!”. Does anybody sense a theme of some sort?

Yeah. Since I have become queen of completely weird internet crap, I have an obligation to share this link on the blog in addition to lj: Milky Elephant: Mumbleboy vids. Drugs: 2004. And maybe schizophrenia. I think the general consensus was drugs. But I felt the need to watch most of these out of sheer fascination…

Broken Entry

listening to: number girl – wave a mutilation

Aaaaaaaah, Number Girl, I love you even more just because you cover a song by the Pixies!! Aaah!

So…it’s snowing outside. I strongly disapprove of this.

I finally finished translating that stupid chapter of Koucha Ouji. Hopefully Taiko’s little brother will not come back into the story until much later, and when he does, he will be grown up and not require me to translate words like “ketsu” and “irero”. Argh. Look them up, yourself.

I hope to do more, tonight. I wanted to go running tonight, but it’s snowing out, meaning it’s cold, and I’ve had quite enough cold, thank you very much.

There is no part of me that wants to go to orchestra today. For various reasons.

My hair needs trimming. Or just chopping off. Stupid hair.

AaaAaAh1!

listening to: tori amos – in the springtime of his voodoo

So I am definitely not doing my Japanese homework due tomorrow that I should be doing. I am definitely not asleep. It is definitely not good, in theory.

But I am oggling Koucha Ouji in the most unbelieveable manner. Just…oh my god. I never would have thought. Jamie’s theory was right. I just hope my theory isn’t right. Because my theory is absurd, and would mean I’d have to instantly kill myself if it were right. But the cute and the fluff is good, I am liking the fluff. I just have to say, if the end is another Escaflowne ending, I will cry like a fucking baby for many many days.

The painful chapter had more to do with children’s bodliy functions. Translator-Talia was not pleased.

Frowl. I decided that tonight I’m just going to stay up and do what I must, but also take my time. Tonight, I will not need sleep. For I have KO. WAHAHAHA. I mean…homework.

Protective Brother Chemical Dependance

listening to: rem – diminished

Maan. The blogger main page had an announcement that read “We’re Back Y’all”, referring to being back from some blogger meet-up thing. But…I swore upon first glance that it read “Y’all Are Wack” and…yeah.

Maan. Having translated almost two full volumes of Koucha Ouji…I can see why it’s not popular. Because the first two volumes have nothing to do with __anything__… The tea princes show up, and occasionally appear in small-form while there are just these stupid high-school related things having to do with after-school clubs and babysitting going on. By the way, I am sick of Taiko’s baby brother, Kenta, who appears in the latest chapter and basically holds up a story-line of sorts (yes, it is that boring, Taiko’s baby brother actually takes up story-line about being sick. Sick. What it is with the Japanese and being sick?! There is a breeze and somebody gets sick! You fall asleep and you’re sick! I don’t believe that the Japanese have weaker immune systems than Americans. I also don’t believe that they would be wusses about getting sick, either. It’s just one of these unsolvable Japanese-culture mysteries that I will never understand). And, see, I personally feel that it is going too far when I have to translate sentences about children’s bodily functions. Just…how do I do that and not feel like I’ve recieved way too much information? Obviously I am never meant to have children, unless they can skip ages 1-5.

Yeah. I don’t think I’d have a problem if the tea princes were in full form and were actually interacting with the characters. Oh well. I see volume 4 on the horizon. It helps that my translating skills have improved substantially since January. And it’s not like I can’t go and read the latest chapters and almost die several times. Or anticipate the next chapter. AaAaah!

Spring. The season of green, of reawakening. The season of planning and building. The season in which I listen to as much early REM as I can stomach at one time. Really. It’s insane. I love them. I mean, what they were. I’ve been thinking more specifically about why I don’t like their current stuff. It has little to do with their changing playing style. I still like aspects of their music that I did before. I like Peter Buck’s guitar playing. Even a lot of the musical shifting they’ve done is still within my liking. However, I think it’s how they work in the studio. Everything is so…mixed. Vocals have precedence over guitar and bass and…percussion is too perfect. They record and record and mix and mix and produce what I would call an overall clean album (so it has been in the last two or so albums). But…clean isn’t what I want. This is what REM’s music is missing: ensemble. When they just sat around and literally thought up music together, and played it, three people plus a singer. It was fabulous. And now it’s like…singer. And two individual instrumentalists. And a percussion-playing dude/machine. Followed by a bunch of mixing. I like a strong beat, certainly. But with this band, it was much stronger when they were an ensemble. Their rhythmic beat is there, but I really think there’s a difference when you have three people who make that beat together.

That is one end of my taste. The other is on the complete opposite end of the spectrum. Primary example: Bjork. She makes the rhythm strong with mixing. But instead of taking live playing and making it into a packaged well-recorded gem, she makes it all herself through electronics. And her subdivisions are amazing. She has the strongest downbeats, with all of these quirky divided beats that make me want MOOOOORE. Also I think that she is amazing at arranging her own electronics with strings and orchestra. Proof of this: Joga, Bachelorette, I’ve Seen It All, all of Vespertine, and then the Union Chapel show w/Brodsky Quartet and Royal Opera House. Drool. And she has a new album coming out this year. Droool.

Now that I think of it, so does REM. I may be sad about lack of ensemble, but that would never stop me from being a hardcore obsessee and purchasing the album, regardless.

Anyway. Yes. Things.

Parking?

listening to: shiina ringo – stoicism

My manga is calling me. All I want to do is read manga. I don’t know why.

I went to my teacher’s recital tonight, which was quite good. And luckily I managed to avoid having a similar bozo experience that took place at his last recital, which was a definite good thing. Plus, I met some girl from my floor who came with Laura. We all think our floor needs to do something together. As in, as a floor. Because apparently even last semester, nobody did anything. And sadly enough, at this point, I know four people from my whole floor. Our RA is…well…the quote on our door name-label is “friendship is certainly the finest balm for the pangs of dissapointed love”. Yeah. Thanks for giving us hope and whatnot.

I went for a run again, today, which was far more successful than the last painful run. It was quasi-raining, but I can’t complain about the temperature. I’m back at about 30 minutes, which is fine. I realize that I need to go slowly in taking myself back up to 40. Anyway, yes. Running is good.

So are links.

^^v Saikou!!

listening to: blonde redhead – distilled

Wah! The time-stamp actually works with Netscape! Horaay! That was my #1 irritating problem with the Safari blogger situation.

I think I have regained my position in life as “translating fiend”. I’ve just finished with Koucha Ouji chapter 9, and boy does it feel good. Hmm. I think my month-or-so long haitus was nice, though. During my period of non-translating, my abilities in Japanese have even advanced a little bit. I have come to the conclusion that the Japanese program here is wonderful. I am re-familiarizing myself with the most important forms of grammar, but I think I’m just generally familiarizing myself with the language more thoroughly than I ever could on my own with just my interest. Having somebody there to drill you (Mon, Wed, Fri’s are specifically days for drilling. Tue/Thrs are for learning new things) makes all the difference. The order of which the new grammar points are being introduced makes more sense than it did with the old textbook I used. Seriously. Sometimes I wish I could drop everything just to concentrate on Japanese.

It’s difficult, having too many interests and being too serious about all of them. Oh well.

In any case, I think I’m going to work on getting a translation page up, and fixing all of the stupid text-wrap of the previous chapters I’ve posted.

SAIKOU, desu.

It’s Not Meant To Be A Strife

listening to: bjork – undo (roh)

Yay! I’m excessively happy and excited for the summer! Today I recieved my acceptance letter from Madeline Island Music Camp! I’ve heard so many wonderful things about this music festival, and unlike last year, I willingly feel that I want to do this for myself. Also good is the fact that it’s based on chamber music, which I love more than anything, but that I still get to work the amazing faculty (I would like to note that Ko Iwasaki is good friends with my parents, having been cello professor at Illinois State for some years, but also that he is a cellist at a fabulous conservatory in Japan. Yes, people, Japan. That amazing place I want to go to. Also good connections to have are cellist from Pacifica String Quartet, and Yeesun Kim, faculty member at New England Conservatory. She actually heard my audition, there). Connections are good. So is intensive summer music study! YAY!

~~Weird Cello Ramble To Follow! Turn Back Now!~~

You have been warned.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the progress I’ve made as a cellist and such in the past year, mostly due to certain things I did, such as CYSO and ARIA. I think those are the two main things that did a lot for me, both technically, psychologically, and attitude-wise. CYSO was great because I became exposed to music, amazing players, and a simulation of a professional setting (great orchestra, minus any sort of $$$). Plus, it really made me realize that I’m not the best, but that I’m not the worst, either. That every situation I am in will be different and not to become too cocky in one or too self-depricating in another. That it is best to notice other people, but not assess them with your own playing (in an unhealthy “I can’t even show face among people like this” manner). CYSO was crazy high-level. I think the level of expectancy made me push myself, and the pressure, though frightening at first, showed me how to cope a little more. I also really enjoyed feeling as though I actually belonged to something that was at the top, even if I had self-doubting myself a lot with it at first.

Then came ARIA. Oh my god, ARIA. At that point, I was shaky playing solo stuff (well, more-so than I am now, anyway) and really afraid to play, not only in an outward anxiety-inclusive manner, but also subconsciously afraid to play out or try to produce the sound that a solo-piece requires. The funny thing about ARIA was that I definitely didn’t practice too much. I practice more on a daily basis now during school than I did during the festival. But somehow, through lectures and masterclasses and all of this information to soak in, I absorbed so much that helped me become a better player during the year, this year. Once I started really figuring out how to practice, I began assessing myself with all of these little things I learned. It was amazing. So during ARIA, I did not really improve, but with the information I obtained, I did improve greatly at a later time. Also, I think I entered with an attitude slightly different from an ego. Almost the opposite. I was convinced I was on the lower end of the rankings, and I wasn’t ashamed of that. But I was embarrassed of playing horribly in front of people who were better players. Well, in the course of one seminar and eight private lessons, I think I overcame this. I learned from my teachers how to take constructive criticism of the most frustrating and possibly emotionally draining type and turn into just constructive criticism. I convinced myself that it’s not about me personally, that if I am working and making an attempt, I can’t be ashamed of what I’ve done. It’s all the learning experience that matters, and no one teacher I worked with was trying to hurt my feelings.

So maybe CYSO made me feel like a poor player who had no social standing, and maybe ARIA made me learn to shut off emotional interference like some sort of brainless machine, and maybe these things caused a lot of weird angst and frustration on the side, but currently, I love where my playing is going, and other than other people bringing their weird emoting onto me, I feel sound with the way I work with teachers and learn. So I’ve been on both ends of the spectrum.

But then, that brings me to thinking about other things. Such as why I like to make myself jump between the two ends of the spectrum. I don’t feel like it’s particularly healthy for me to suddenly go from being on the lower end of this amazing group of players, to something of the opposite. I realized after the last major jump that I’m doing it, and it makes it a problem for me to keep my focus straight. It also frustrates me that I can’t keep my standards high on all degrees, and that I feel the need to be “easy” on myself after being part of something which was difficult but worth the difficulty in the end. I want the teachers to be honest about my playing. If it sucks, I want to know that. Because I don’t mind hearing that something sucks to somebody else’s ears. After all, I don’t hear my playing the way everybody else does. To me, it’s different and completely askew from reality, in a lot of ways. So I want to hear that I’m not doing so hot, or that I’ve done better. Then I also want to hear when I make something sound really great. I want somebody to tell me it’s musically good. This is the problem with teachers. You start to depend on them to judge you a lot, when someday you’ll have to do the judging for yourself. What worries me is that I’m not getting enough of the honest and blunt opinions of musicians who can hear my playing for what it is.

It’s really very difficult that you can’t recognize your own playing for what it is. I mean, I think eventually with enough training and aided listening, you can. It still worries me.

Alright. So I’m done. I just have had a lot of time to think, recently, about what I’m playing and how my approaches are different, and it’s always interesting to look back and see what events have directly caused shifting, and what subtle periods have been responsible for other things.

Naaanda?!

listening to: shiina ringo – fukou jiman

So. I’m trying out this blogging client for the MacOSX, called Ecto. I’m trying not to take it too seriously, since I’m only being provided with a trial-use, but I think I like it. It kind of weirds me out that the text changes colors so much with html tag use (especially since the colors are rather wonky), but I can ignore that. I’ve never actually registered any trial software before ( <--girl who is still using trial version of ftp editor which kicks you off every ten minutes for not being registered) and I sort of doubt this will become the first. Other software, like ftp clients, are sort of necessities for maintaining a web-page, but a seperate blogger client is not. I think I slept something like four hours last night, but I’m feeling surprisingly awake and active in consideration of the lack of sleep. Between music theory, the thunderstorm, and some random people running around loudly outside, it was a difficult thing to attain, sleep. The weather is lovely. It’s completely gray and rainy, but the temperature has made it pleasant. It feels like things are actually trying to live now, as opposed to being dead or hiding from the cold. So…I was walking from the dining hall to the music-building this morning, and standing on a ledge a foot or so off the ground were a pair of mallard ducks (quite a ways from the river, mind you). I was caught off guard by the pair of ducks standing on a ledge in front of a dorm. And for some reason this amused me greatly. Bah. My room is such a mess. There’s so much crap laying around. I should put all this crap away, instead of blog. But oh well. There’s a concert/lecture on Messeian, this Sunday. There’s no way I’m going to miss anything having to do with weird French organ music!!!!!11!!

It’s!

We talked about this in aural skills yesterday, but today, Luke actually handed some of my class sheets of paper with the line from Monty Python’s Flying Circus on it…

“Why is it that nobody remembers the name of Johann Gambolputty de von Ausfern-schplenden

-schlitter-crasscrenbon-fried-digger-dingle-dangle-dongle-dungle-burstein-von-knacker-thrasher-

apple-banger-horowitz-ticolensic-grander-knotty-spelltinkle-grandlich-grumblemeyer-spelterwasser-

kurstlich-himbleeisen-bahnwagen-gutenabend-bitte-ein-nurnburger-bratwustle-gernspurten-mitz-

weimache-luber-hundsfut-gumberaber-shonedanker-kalbsfleisch-mittler-aucher von Hautkopft of Ulm?”

And you know something? If I were capable of memorizing that entire name, I would exploit the use of it, too.

This Is Talia Avoiding Part-Writing

listening to: short trip home – in the nick of time

Back around Christmas, I joined the lj band-wagon and signed up for brand-spankin-new lj. I’ve updated it with angry rants, occasionally, and some memes. I’ve decided that I’m going to continue using it for angry rants and memes, but finding so many links from boingboing.net, news of the dead, and my friends, I think I’m going to make link posts, there. I’d put them here, but I find a lot and I sort of want to keep them together instead of scattering them through-out my monotonous music/japan/everything details.

So here is my livejournal.

I’m a dork. Keeping a livejournal in addition to a regular blog is absurd and pointless. I think I just like giving myself things to do and look at, spread out all over the place.

Oh well.

Pssst. Hey Kid. Do You Like Muffins?

listening to: the cranberries – the icicle melts (live)

It is affirmative that I am more fond of Netscape than I am of Safari for blogging purposes.

I believe I can say that I just experienced my first thunderstorm for this year. It was very exciting, although it did require me to run through the rain from Burge to Stanley. Oh well.

Lesson went pretty well. Not saying I played well. The etude I played was so bad. Really. It was half the quality it had been when I played it at my lesson before break. For some reason I didn’t care. It was possibly because I knew it was going to suck, and that I hadn’t practiced it enough over break because I’d been busy with…well, other things, I guess. I think I can say at this point that I am almost halfway through Shostokovich. I’m going to finish this concerto of it kills me.

Philharmonia is another matter. No. I won’t talk about it. I’ll end up making myself even more frustrated.

Tonight I think I will be testing the limits of the music-building. I have a theory assignment that’s going to take me a while. Possibly until the supposed closing-time of 11. I don’t know if I believe that they shut everything down at 11. Certainly they can’t kick people out of the practice-rooms…

Oh well. I’ll report back with the full story, later. Hopefully I’ll finish my theory assignment before I am um “kicked out” for the night.

*wheeze*

listening to: rem – what if we give it away?

*makes faces* Oh my god. Oh my god. Trader Joe’s, my love for you and your inexpensive but healthy foods has no bounds but…your “Garden Patch” vegetable juice has destroyed my will to drink anything, again. Ever. This stuff is…too much. I think it’s the semi-pureed peppers that got me. But at the same time it destroys my mouth from the inside out, I want more. MORE!

I think I’m really just blogging again because I don’t want to go to Voxman. But I need to practice.

You know, I’m frustrated by the fact that I’m getting two credit hours per semester for the two orchestras I’m in when I give an actual 6.5 hours tota per week. Maybe I’m just frustrated by it this week because of the dress rehearsals we’ve had.

This new “invisible” AIM feature frustrates me. Possibly because other people out there can use it and I can’t (being that I use a Mac).

What’s That Blue Thing Doing Here?

listening to: they might be giants – fingertips

You know, I thought for a change I’d try and use Netscape to open blogger, instead of Safari and…I find this set-up preferable to the old one. Aside from the set-up of the page with Safari (which is completely different from the Windows/Netscape set-up), I found that the typing text was big and…clunky? I know that’s a very random thing to complain about, the format of Safari blogging but…to some extent, it did kind of irritate me. Of course, I can’t promise entries containing more coherence/fewer typing mistakes, but maybe I will enjoy my blogging more? Bah!

I am still pretty apathetic about everything. Post-concert weirdness is wearing off a little bit, but I think I’m just generally tired and cranky. I woke up a tad on the late side because apparently I turned my alarm off and crawled back into bed without actually being conscious to know I did so. Aural skills today was awesome. Professor Nez came in to observe Luke. He wasn’t exactly expecting it, and the results were humorous. I enjoyed it, though. I could listen to Professor Nez talk for hours, even if I don’t understand the subject matter. As noted, Luke is quite hilarious when he’s frustrated. Bah. I love Luke. So much. If not for his manner of doing and existing, for the music he’s familiarizing our class with. We listened to Spiegel im Spiegel by Arvo Pärt. Erica rocks for having given me a chance to familiarize myself with Arvo Pärt a tad earlier. Just…aah. Estonian whimsical stuff.

Anyway, went off on a small tangent about a skit from Monty Python’s Flying Circus. Nothing better than that could happen in an aural skills class. And then…we started practicing a rhythm with a metronome, but obviously the tempo we took was too fast, because we became hopelessly behind the beat within a few measures. Anyway, I’m at the point where I’m comfortable enough in front of my aural skills class that I can sort of mutter sarcastic nonsense and know that they don’t think it too weird of me. So after this, I sad “stupid metronome…speeding up on us”, and everyone found this hilarious! I mean, I guess it was funny, but it confuses me when people find something I think is “meh” completely amusing.

Aaar. I wish I could write more comfortably on my blog. By no means do I sensor everything, but I’m discovering that I’m paranoid of what people think, and just generally conscious of how people prospectively view the things I write. I believe that this interferes with a lot with the way I write. I know my general personal motivation behind blogging is to be recording things for myself, but it’s difficult for me to seperate the paranoid/obsessive part of myself from blogging, too. Sometimes I care about how my writing comes off more than other times. But it really just depends. But I think in some ways, I really enjoy knowing that other people who I know and don’t are going to be reading a little more in-depth about my way of thinking and living. So that’s why it’s difficult for me to hold the idea of completely constricting readers through livejournal or something.

Bah. I don’t know.

Still apathetic. Cello lesson I have not practiced for is at 3:30. Augh. And Philharmonia is right before that. I’m really going to be lacking motivation at my lesson today.

I Know What You Need…This Will Really Work

listening to: rasputina – signs of the zodiac

We had our Mozart Requiem concert tonight. That was a lovely concert. But as happens with every concert I’ve ever played that has required some amount of sweat and blood, I felt myself becoming glum and despondant after it was over. I still haven’t learned to deal with this. But I’m trying.

In an effort attempt dealing with this, I decided I would go running. After all, running has helped to calm down a lot of other strange bouts of turmoil that I’ve driven myself into. Why wouldn’t it help with this? Hmm. Well, running turned out to be sort of a let-down. I’d been doing great before break. My last run topped forty minutes, a week and a half ago. But then I lost motivation/a set time for running while I was home, and haven’t been active with it, since. I meant to run the moment I came back to school, but rehearsals and general lack of time barred any possibilities of that.

It’s safe to say that I chose the wrong steps for returning to the hard-core running I was doing before. I think I litereally drove my body and my mind to do some things it could have used time to catch up with, again. I really should have gone more slowly. Especially considering the following factors: 1) the week-long break 2) the different running shoes that I wasn’t used to 3) lack of proper stretching 4) random body ache-age

I tried running up my regular stair route, which I usually do without too much of a problem. It was 20 minutes into the run, and as soon as I got to the top, I developed the worst cramp in my right side. I had to stop running immediately, for taking in a deep breath felt like death of sorts. Then I had to decrease my stride to barely a foot, for taking full steps required more breat which…as is mentioned, felt like death of sorts. So yeah. That sort of detracted from the quality of the run. I started again and went for another five minutes, and even finished sprinting, but it wasn’t the same.

Didn’t help the mood. I’m still amidst my post-concert weirdness. I’m really apathetic, currently. Nothing matters. I have a cello lesson that I’m not ready for, tomorrow, but I don’t care. I should have photocopied some pages for aural skills but I don’t care. I have an assigntment due Friday that I haven’t started but I don’t care.

So sort of lonely and moody. I’m sure it’ll pass by morning, and I’ll be my randomly jovial and easily enteratained self.

P.S. Thanks for the comments to the whinny post. I love comments. Everybody rocks!

Yup Yup Yup

listening to: hooverphonic – autoharp

random amusing quotes: “I always felt bad for the smelly one. Was that Linus?” “No, that was Pigpen” “Poor guy. He really had social issues” — Professor Nez (after playing “Linus and Lucy” for theoretical analysis), student

“I’m that dangerous loose-screw of a professor” — Nez

“And what do we know about 7ths? That every time I use them I get 8 points off?” — Nez

“Talia, are you writing down everything funny she’s saying?” “…um…of course not…” — Wendy, Talia

To blog…or to nap. Orchestra was cancelled today, so I’m continuing the story of being incredibly lazy and not doing anything. Blogging and sleeping are two activities which have high priority. But I have not sufficiently blogged in a while.

I’ll take blog for $500.

There’s a cello grad-student I sat with a couple concerts ago. Her name is Alison. I’ve talked to her a couple times. She likes Tori, which automatically makes her cool on that level. But yesterday we were walking out of Hancher and she forgot my name. She called me something else and then was like “girl…”. I didn’t mind. People forget names. Especially mine, because it’s uncommon. She was apologetic, and said I was welcome to forget her name. But then I realized I didn’t remember her name. It took me like two minutes to completely recover the name “Alison” from the deep recesses of my mind. Stupid mental shut-down.

Our Philharmonia concert on Sunday is going to be so awful. I’m just going to shut my eyes and hope a smidge of dignity has been left for Beethoven when I open them, again. I will reitterate: DOWN-BEAT, ENGLISH. PLEASE.

Boys annoy me. At least the boys I have to encounter on a daily basis, do. Except for Uhigh Stephen. He’s a good kid.

The weather is wonderful. It is impossible to ignore Spring coming on when you’ve spent two months tromping through sub-zero temperatures and inconsistent snow. Really. And it doesn’t matter where you are, either. If the climate allows for a change from cold to warm, then it’ll find you. For the first time in a very long time, I feel extremely lively, uplifted, and dare I say it, excited about life. Interstingly enough, I think it being spring can easily aid in improving my opinion of a place I’m not used to. I’m suddenly overly fond of Iowa City. That’s no big surprise, as I’ve really been gradually becoming more and more fond of it here. But now I just want to frolick and be noisy and happy. I also feel that this random improvement of opinion is related to playing a concert in Macomb, IL at the same time last year and actually not minding the place. And Macomb is bleak. So yes. Thank you, Spring.

I’ve started listening to I.R.S REM again as well, which is also a sign of rediscovered energy. Now everything just needs to be green and all will be right. My being in Upstate New York driving around would also improve this REM + Spring image that my mind is sporting.

I wanted to practice, but I also want to sleep. Maybe I will sleep for ten minutes and then practice. I wish I could practice in my dreams. Not like…the technical aspects. But the musical/psychological crap. It works for tetris. Why couldn’t it work for cello?

Leaking Pure White Noise

listening to: number girl – sentimental girl’s violent joke

I feel that I owe an entry to make up for the high level of post-rehearsal laziness that prevented me from blogging last night. So I will do it now, to demonstrate my state of mind (or something) before having to blearily make my way to music theory.

For the past twelve hours, I’ve had three completely different pieces that sound similar in certain places stuck in my head. Right when I get to the end of one, another one begins. It’s kind of like a dull nightmare. Some days I think I’d like to get the music out of my head entirely. Aah.

Okay. This isn’t working. I’m being overcome with nothingness as I type. Like, all possible ideas and subjects are lost on me. Done. Will try again later.

Anybody Want To Start A Band?

listening to: number girl – sentimental girl’s violent joke

The most recent compliment to my cello playing was that I “play with an intensity that isn’t Midwestern. People from the East Coast play like that”. Thanks, I think.

I wrote two little ditty’s today. One for cello, one for piano. Basically, that’s what I’m doing in terms of writing music. Creating little phrases and patterns and…solos. I copy them down on staff paper. I have quite a few at this point. Eventually, I’m sure they’ll have context somewhere. There’s music in my head, I swear. A lot of it. I’m just not at the stage where I can get it out on one instrument. It’s not all for one instrument. It’s for many. I play a few intruments, but I can only play one at a time. In otherwords, I can’t do this alone. Anybody want to start a band? If you can bang on a can, you’re in. Please? I just need people to make music with. Here, I’ll replace the “a” and the “s”. Pleeze? Yeah. That’s bound to attract some more people.

My room is such a mess right now. I put away food last night when I got back, but my clothes and my books and everything else are just laying out. I’m far too lazy to do anything with them now. Ah, the joys of having my own room.

Two-and-a-half hour long rehearsals tend to make me crazy. I run around outdoors after them, singing “daemon” and laughing at rabbits. Seriously. It turns out that Laura also sang “Daemon” during high school. And there was a rabbit that kept trying to run away from us but kept being cornered. That expains all of the above.

So does anybody actually read my blog anymore? Other than me? I read my blog a lot. It’s sad. But it’s also entertaining. Hmm.

I Will Rearrange Your Scales If I Can, And I Can

listening to: rem – these days

In case anybody was wondering, I can verify that today is Monday by the following:

— 9:00 in music theory, somebody’s wrist-watch alarm is going off. Incessantly. I get really frustrated and start looking around when I realize that it is my wrist-watch.

— I wrote “VOiP” in my notes about 8 times during theory

— I unknowingly wrote “nit” instead of “rit” in my music during excerpt class (even though I realize that’s not hard. lemme alone)

Yes. Yes. The idiotic little things that happen to me make it Monday, automatically, no questions asked. Shut up. I just wanted to share the watch thing.

Yuk. Dashboard Confessional has apparently covered R.E.M. With Michael Stipe approval. See? The prior used “yuk” doesn’t even deserve a “c”. It’s difficult being a die-hard fan of a band whose current music doesn’t even come close to living up to past works. Not only is it hard because it’s disappointing, but also because I still feel obligated to buy any forthcoming albums of theirs, regardless of level of suckage.

The state of pop music is so sad, currently. My sister was telling me that she remembered the days that people listened to Nirvana and Tori Amos and (old) R.E.M. and things that were at least musical to a point.

I’m not into music just to be into it. I want to give something back to it if I can. If I am ever to do anything serious outside of classical music (which I hope to do), I would like for it to be contributing to/improving the standards of popular music. I am currently quite content in my scattered and little-known-artist hole, but I can’t help wonder where fate lies for people who have succumbed to the lack of musicality and creativity that is current popular music.

Done.

There were lots of other things I wanted to blog about. But I don’t control the tangents, I’m afraid.

Psst. Hey kid, do you like muffins?

Resist All The Urges That Make You Want To Go Out And Kill

listening to: ween – the roses are a free

Now I remember what I wanted to blog about! My next-door neighbor is an elderly man who used to be a big part of the community. I believe he was the mayor of Normal for some years. He’s something like 94, now, I believe. In any case, there was a surprise birthday party for him today at some country club. My mother wanted to go, and insisted that I come, even though all my clothes were packed and I whined about having to go out and do crap right before having to haul myself back to Iowa. I think that was only part of the reason that I didn’t want to go.

When I was in maybe 8th grade, my grandfather (Opa) thought it would be a really good idea to have a surprise party for my grandmother (Oma). But her health was really deteriorating, and it ended up sort of upsetting her more than pleasantly surprising her. So that has from there on out tainted my good opinion of all surprise parties intended for people of the elderly sort.

In any case, I ended up going. Chuck seemed very pleased by the whole thing, so that was fine. I swear the man has like ten great grand-kids. Absurdity. I also talked to quite a few neighbors that I hadn’t seen in what may literally be years. It wasn’t bad.

But my mother has no concept of timeliness, though, which frustrates me to no ends. We had intended to pick my dad up from the airport immediately after leaving this thing, but we left late and then we couldn’t find parking at the stupid Central Illinois Regional Airport and…arg. It especially frustrates me when I get yelled at for being “lazy” and “late” in getting my crap together to leave. YaaarrR! Parentsesss!

One of the reasons I’m glad to be back in Iowa. Parent interaction limited to phone-calls. I like that, I’ve decided. But whatever.

I want to blog. A lot. Just…continuous blogging over a 24-hour period. That would be fun. Like the actual blogathon. Other people need to blog more, too. Or else I’ll go on binges that range from reloading the same never-updated blog about two times an hour, to reading random people’s blogs linked from the main blogger page.

However, this date with blogger that I desire shall not be. There’s a rough draft of some mystery letter due in Japanese, tomorrow. And I need to go and make up–er…compose something for it.

So…who’s an honors student, again?

I AM. Aren’t I’s clever?

Checka My Email Checka My Email Checka Checka Checka Checka My Email…

listening to: the black keys – yearnin’

I’m checking my email. I got an email from the Honors Program. Apparently they’ve simply added me. So I am an honors student!! Woohoo! What else…a thing about a gig from a guy named Karl. I think he plays the viola. An email with a scr attachment from a guy in my aural skills class. The subject has a smiley in it. I think it’s a virus.

I would eventually like to hear back from the music festivals I applied to. Yes, yes I would. Quite a bit. Actually, I hope I find out the festival results the same way my sister did. Er, sort of.

Yeah. Last year Erica went to Spilleto in SC, and Bachakademiefest in Stuttgart, Germany. Both of which she loved. And she had auditions for both of these festivals again for this year, but was actually semi-doubtful that she would make it into Bachakademie. So anyway, I guess she hadn’t heard from either one, and was starting to wonder.

But a few nights ago, she had a dream she was in Cleveland. And Cleveland was hell. And Satan was talking to her.

“I’ll give you anything you desire for one of your seven souls”, said Satan.

In the dream, Erica told Satan that she wanted to play all of the Mahler symphonies twice in her life (fyi, both of these festivals are playing Mahler this year). So then she woke up and couldn’t fall back asleep. So she went to check her email and found the acceptance messages from both of these festivals.

That’s weird. But I’m also really glad I’m not the only one in my family to have completely effed up dreams. At least mine aren’t frighteningly ironic, as well.

I keep thinking up some completely cool stuff to blog about. And then I keep forgetting what it is as soon I have the window in front of me. I wish I were a better blogger.

I am also very close to starting a Koucha Ouji fanfic. Aaaah! Life is hard!

Staring At A CD That Says Heckel Bassoon

listening to: hisaishi jou – happin’ hoppin’

Some days I love blogger. Some days I just want to give it a hug. I love how I can edit things. I love how I can change things. Love. Love. Blogger Love.

Some days I wonder about Moveable Type. Those days are rare. Most days are apathetic days where it doesn’t really matter, anyway. Today is a Blogger day.

Yesterday I ate at Jake’s with Mike, Tura, Miriam, and Renata. Good times. I missed their company during my nights held hostage in Voxman or Stanley 10. Later I forced Marion to succumb to MST3k. It was done well.

This morning I lost my glasses. I have no idea where they are, still. Fortunately I have contact lenses, but it boggles my mind that I went upstairs into my room wearing them last night, did not exit my room until this morning, and can’t find them.

Then I went to Mitsuwa with Jamie and Megan, where we met Kira and Kathryn. Fun was had by all. I picked up this CD, Hisaishi Jou’s “Curved Music”, which is stuff of his that’s been used in commercials. Of the ten tracks, Asian Dream Song and two version of Summer (from Kikujiro) are used. That in itself made my day, but there are also five versions of “Happin’ Hoppin'”, all under a minute long and used for Kirin Beer commercials. Aah, the music is so cute that it makes me want Kirin Beer. Except…not really.

I hope there will be exciting Koucha Ouji things, later this evening. We will see.

Shut Up, Already!!

listening to: dismemberment plan – memory machine

I’m one really weird kid. But we’ll get to that, later.

Yesterday I forced Number Girl onto somebody who completely deserved to have awesome music forced upon them. Go me, I suppose. Fulfilling my place in life. Then last night, I went to a symphony concert. Prokofiev, Britten, and Vaughan Williams, all my favorites. Plus, I saw everybody I knew. Allie, Charlie, Ivy and Kathy. Ivy, Kathy and I had our own fun little outing (of sorts) after the concert. It was definitely cool, but also kind of weird, because we all went to junior high together which was…as we agreed, not the highlight of our lives.

Something meaningless and unrelated to anything: sometimes when my phone rings, I think that I’m pressing the “talk” button, but I really managed to press the button which holds the person on the other end, and then I’m like… “oh dear. I’ve missed them. they’ve hung up”. But no. I’ve had them on hold and have confused them to the point of hanging up. Sigh.

Um. I’m going slightly crazy. Er–I mean, I’m one really weird kid. It’s just that I tend to go obsessively crazy over the slighest things. Like, right now, it’s living-place and how I obsess with the way things feel about a place. But I really create atmospheres all my own to appease myself. I just can’t shake the feeling that there are just some places I could never live. And…rrr. I don’t know. Like, I tend to dwell on a few particular places: Japan, New York City, Boston, Ithaca, Iowa City (since I live there and adjusting has been hard and gradual, but has finally happened), and home (B-N). And…this is weird and strange. In some similar line of thinking, I’m sort of mad at myself for being stuck in a college town, always. I went from my home-place college town to an Iowan college town. And…I don’t know. If I know myself well, the best way to adjust to the idea of not being able to live in B-N would probably be to get further away from it.

I really think I want to experience a city.

This entry has been all about me freaking out about random things.

My stomach is hurting like a mother. So I feel a need to stop.

Oh, God, Could It Be The Weather?

listening to: bjork – human behaviour

I just realized that I had the strangest dream last night. It was a school-type gathering. Quite large. And it must have been a music event of some sort. But a very informal one. And…Tori Amos was there. She wasn’t performing or anything. Just walking around and looking at people. And she stopped and talked to me. For like ten minutes. She asked me if I was studying polyrhythmics. It was very strange.

I went out to Ming’s Wok for lunch with MED yesterday, which was fabulous, since I didn’t even see her over X-mas break. Later, I saw Hidalgo with Jamie and Megan. Which was…okay. You realize at the end that there wasn’t exactly any point to the movie. But getting to watch Viggo Mortenson and several very lovely horses running about made the movie quite endurable. Mmm. Horses.

Hmm. I feel really weird. Maybe…purposeless? Without a place in life? I’m generally okay being home, but I don’t particularly like thinking about my situation as a student and in life and whatnot (that sounds kind of dumb. sort of like me). Mweh.

Umm…I love everybody. And making fiends. Haha.