Suck On This, Weather

listening to: stuart davis – original face

The weather is amazing. It’s so windy and I love that (even though I can’t see a damn thing with my hair all in my face). And sunny. And just warm enough. Love. Spring.

The wind/sun factor somehow reminds me of walking around in Cornell University’s botanical garden with my aunt the same day I showed up for the Ithaca Chamber Music institute. Damn. I love this weather.

Just thought I would let the world know how I love the weather before spending the rest of my afternoon learning about…things, and rehearsing Prokofiev. Oh God, Prokofiev! Life is awesome.

Not Wedged Under The Desk

listening to: cocteau twins – heaven or las vegas

So, I started typing this entry. And then I got up to search for a writing-utensil of some sort, for a completely non-blogging related reason. This somehow resulted in my moving my coat from my bed, and then seeing as I had just gone to the trouble of clearing a space on my bed, how could I not lie down on it? Five minutes later, I realized that today was my sister’s birthday (happy birthday, Erica!!1!), and that I had not yet called her to wish her a happy one. I was getting up, and informed Kerry of the idiocy that is me almost forgetting about my sister’s birthday, whereupon she suggested that we do an acapella rendition of “Birthday Song” over the phone for Erica. Which somehow lead to us going off on a tangent about Full House. I somehow managed to get myself back on track, go outside, leave a “happy birthday” voicemail on her phone, come back in, notice my bed, lie down, jolt upright five minutes later when I frantically start wondering about some rehearsal-thing tomorrow, realize I was dumb and thinking about something else, then see the open Blogger-window. Thus, how I am blogging this very moment.

Originally, I was planning on blogging about how I really didn’t want to blog, but wanted to get that damn Audioblogger post off the top of the page. I’m vaguely embarassed about how I’m that loud, weird, and idiotic-sounding over the phone, but I never have the heart to delete things like that. I mean, later in life I’m going to come across that file and laugh about how loud, weird and idiotic-sounding I am.

I’m pathetically tired. Thinking of going to bed right now. Definitely enjoyed the bit of thunderstorm that plowed through the area earlier tonight. Definitely did not get enough accomplished today. Definitely want to hermit and never talk to people again. As Kerry’s away message sometimes says, “some people need to be hit with a clue-by-four”.

Hey, I Have That Shirt…

listening to: luminous orange – utatane no hibi

Things that have been accomplished in last 12-or-so hours:

-discovering and obtaining a freeware version of Finale’s notation-software
-finishing music theory composition
-bow rehair paid for and in process of being completed
-kicking the life back into my printer
-kind of sleeping (that’s good! the night before only counted for “barely sleeping”, so that’s actually good, I guess)

Go me.

Augh. I do admittedly feel like crap, though. This whole sleeping (or lack-thereof) problem reminds me a lot of how I almost ceased to sleep last spring. I don’t know. I think a lot of that was seriously anxiety and stress getting to me, whereas here the stress isn’t too bad, and the anxiety is practically non-existent. I think it’s mostly that every time I go from my bed at home to my bed here, it feels like I transfer from sleeping on a bed to sleeping on a rock with flannel sheets. Stupid beds.

It’s really startling when I see people who are also wearing “Ithaca Is Gorges” shirts outside of Ithaca, NY. I saw a girl walk into the music building with one yesterday, while I was standing outside talking to Michelle, Allison and Justin (informative sidenote: Michelle and Allison were here yesterday. I only saw them for 20 minutes, but it was frolick-some). The funny thing was that I was also wearing my “Ithaca is Gorges” shirt, but didn’t realize it until like 30 seconds after seeing her. So my reaction was seriously something like this: “Hey. I have that shirt. Yep. *audible gasp* Hey! I’m wearing that shirt! *unzips jacket to check* YEAH!” Justin tried to get me to run after her. I can just imagine me sprinting through the hallways like “WAAAIT, GIRL-WITH-THE-ITHACA-SHIRT, WE ARE NOW FRIENDS BY T-SHIRT ASSOCIATION!!!!”

I’m definitely an idiot. But I definitely have an excuse what with the not-sleeping.

Well Tonight I Mean It!!!!

listening to: dismemberment plan – tonight we mean it

I’m really just blogging to say that a) BlogThis SUCKS and ate an entry and b) 12-tone music is easier to compose than one might think because it doesn’t have to sound good or follow the rules of traditional composition that would be EATING OUT MY BRAIN RIGHT NOW, were I required to incorporate them.



listening to: cornelius – drop

I’m…so tired. But…blog or DEATH.

Today um…where to start.

Apparently I still get an Easter basket, even though I am of no practicing religion and am 19. That’s okay, though, being as it was filled with the two things that complete life: socks and chocolate. Does this sound familiar to anyone else? Wow. That was 3 years ago. That’s…amazing. My blog is measuring TIME.

I drove back to C-U and then practiced for an hour before this lesson that should have been AWFUL. Like, it had no right to be as good as it was considering the fact that a) I only practiced an hour right before-hand, and it was the total frantic-half-ass sort that I do before lessons when I haven’t played yet during the day and b) I hardly practiced over Spring Break. But somehow, the lesson was awesome. I can play Lalo now. Not only can I play it, but I enjoy playing it. It is easy to play. I have no idea why it was good, though. I think I got frustrated with actually playing during the week, and sort of spent five minutes at a time sitting at the cello just thinking about the things I needed to do (especially relaxing, non-head-movement things). And somehow, I managed to apply those things in my lesson.

Then I hauled my crap back into the room, managed to coincide that crap-hauling with Kerry’s return, ate Thai food with Kerry, had a computer crisis simultaneously with Kerry, over-came said computer crisis, did not finish my twelve-tone composition, went to Music Building and did not practice for two hours (interestingly enough it was other people from my studio who were distracting me, too), came back at midnight. Now it’s 1:04. Mrrrrrrrrm.

I’m glad to be back. I was dreading the thought all week, but now that I’m here and doing work and surrounded by people who are also doing work, I feel good. I also had an interesting moment of location-zen as I was walking back from Music Building, tonight. It was nice, for a change. I still have stupid moments of really missing Iowa, but I think I’m also coming to understand that adjusting really did take time but that things are becoming better.

I should really fricking go to bed.

P.S. I had a dream that the Music Building was really Metcalf, and that it was being reconstructed on all floors but the lower level, but you could still take elevators up to the construction-areas and wander around. Yes.

Piles Of Old Crap Find Their Way Into My Blog

Wow, wow, wow.

I was cleaning out the drawers of the desk in my room –something I don’t think I’ve done since like…senior year of high school– and I came across some of the most AMAZING forgotten-about crap. I almost wish I could have been an on-looker watching me find this crap, because I would see something I’d forgotten about and make weird squeally noises. I actually made a list of the amazing stuff I found, while I was doing the cleaning, just to keep track of the more random things I wasn’t likely to remember finding.

I’ve provided here, for your amusement (or probably just mine), not the original list, but a list of crap I came across:

-piles of post-cards
-3 calculators
-a handful of ihsa solo/ensemble pins
-weird furoku from manga zasshi
-like 6 floppy disks, one called “archive ‘o fun”
-all 4 of my high-school picture ids
-lots of recital-programs
-a napkin my piano quartet from the summer wrote goodbyes on
-TONS of music that is rightly stolen from Uhigh (most of it madrigal stuff)
-the sheet-music to Il Et Bel Et Bon (that was a squeally-find)
-3 burnt CDs of the infamous drama GTO?! (i have NO idea how i ended up with that)
-2 applications for the Asahikawa year-exchange program, from two different years
-a Robert FUCKING Miles CD I’d been missing (still no sign of Brian Eno, unfortunately…)
-a lot of absurdly crappy writing from Creative Writing senior year (apparently I wrote a sonnet about frowling)
-Rob napkin-poetry (“crawdad crawdad crawdad” sidenote: don’t ask)
-printed up JAPANESE “good” HanaKimi fanfiction (dear self: you are awesome)
-a brome and beyond (to which I actually said aloud “wacky!”)
-a page of notes from Shakespeare with “KINGDOM HEARTS” written at the top

What does that say about me during high school? Or even now? Nevermind. Neeext…

So…I’m sort of being productive today. I did go running. I kind of practiced. I kind of prodded my theory assignment with a long stick. Argh. I’ve been thinking about my random and stupid procrastination problems. And…I think I am a little bit self-depricating because I believe everything is going to be unbelievably hard and time-consuming, and when I do that, I feel like I don’t have the energy to move, let alone do the work. When I convince myself that composing 12-tone music is actually going to be less-than-painful, I almost WANT to, just because I know I’ll do fine. Stupid self-deprication.

Does that even make sense? Whatever. BLAH, HISS.

Day Of Monstrous Productivity

listening to: man or astroman – curious constructs

Gah! Pete’s newly appointed young master (she’s like 12) just called asking about his veterinary record, and I was simultaneously like “you are awesomely responsible and trusted” and “damn, I miss my bird!”

Today is the day of monstrous productivity. Today is the day it all needs to be gotten done. All of the things I’ve put off all break. The grueling practicing of Popper #9. The 12-tone composition for music theory (I’ve started it, but not really gotten into it and it’s due on TUESDAAAY). The continuing project of tidying up my room. But I’ve decided that first and foremost (and despite the stupid weather still sucking) I am going running.

I saw Michelle last night. It was grand.

Just as a note, I added a bunch of RSS Syndicated Feed to my lj friends. This either means that I will end up reading a lot more or that I will have to remove them all because I never read them.

m*sak: a defensive beehotch is the best way to be about music. So GO YOU! I need to be more of one, in fact.

Lies, Dirty Lies

listening to: modest mouse – dirty fingernails

Oh man oh man. Does anybody remember one or two entries involving how I am quite satisfied with my music collection and have never really obtained anything I am ashamed of? Lies. Dirty lies.

I was digging deep into the recesses of some CD piles in my room earlier tonight (I was really just in search of Brian Eno’s Before and After Science–which I CANNOT FRICKING FIND ANYWHERE), and I came across a few old and lost things that I thought would be worth a listen to. Two of these things being stuff by Miyamura Yuko. It seemed innocent enough at first. I went “oh, hah! I remember these CDs!”, and listened to the first single. It’s funny, because I remember the music pretty well. Like, when I found the CDs, I went “oh right! these songs”, and recalled some moderately obnoxious J-Pop crap. But…did it not occur to me at the time of purchase that the singing is CRAP?! Apparently not. God. I must have spent a solid ten minutes in near-hysterical laughter, it’s so bad. And SO. FUNNY.

Important question: how did I end up with this stuff and WHY?! From what I recall, Miyamura Yuko was a seiyuu (voice-actor) for a few anime, here and there. The more popular seiyuu always seem to have solo-albums and singles, and not necessarily because they’re you know, good at singing. I think I actually discovered her through some sort of JPop Internet Radio…thing. I remember being pretty enamored with her at the time (I think I was 14 at that point in time…), so of course I would frantically search for her stuff at my first ever journey into Mitsuwa’s Asahiya bookstore. And is this sad or what? I actually remember exactly what I bought that day. Inuyasha #16, 17 (this was well before the days of shoujo manga apparently), and Miyamura Yuko’s Arigato single. At a later date, I obtained her Best Of album. I actually have a sticker that came from the album on my wall-of-Japanese-crap.

Also, on this journey into random CD-crap, I found the 2001 U-High Jazz CD that Mai made for me. It consists of Jazz Gold (the top jazz band) and Jazzin’ in the Evening (the top jazz choir), both of which I was in. That was also worth some laughs. Honestly, it’s hard to listen to any of my bass-playing, ever, without burying my head in a pillow and snorting out laughter. It’s not that I was bad. I think it’s mostly that I’m my own worst critic. And also that the amp I used had no right to be functioning as well as did (we called it “Big Ugly”. It would starting buzzing if I didn’t whack it every ten minutes or so). Also, sometimes the whole “I play a fretless bass” thing led to some um intonation problems. But…okay. That was like four years ago.

I want to go running. Like…right now. Seriously. Maybe it’s because I sat around for a good portion of the day contemplating the things I wasn’t getting done. But…running!! Running in the dark is also somehow very appealing. Dammit. I miss Iowa.

I’m waiting for Michelle to get off work so we can go um…well, not really frolic (since the weather sucks). Sit and be silly. She’s gets off at midnight, which will make tonight ridiculously late for me. It’s not that I’m not a late person. It’s mostly that when I am a late person, I am a late-person-sitting-in-bed-reading or a late-person-watching-mst3k. Not so much a late-person-sitting-at-some-24-hour-restaurant with people. Basically, I’m shut-in. That’s okay with me.

Also, DAMN AARON for lending me this Heinlein book. It’s really good and I resent really good things that might consume my life with obsession. Maybe I just worry that everything will turn out to be Deathstalker. Uahg. That’s a scary thought. What if everything I read just turned into Deathstalker…?

*edit* oh my god I can’t spell.


listening to: orb – once more

I feel the need to be open on my blog, so I’m just going to come out and say this: I am a jealouspants.

I started reading Tunnel in the Sky by Heinlein, last night. I like this idea of Australasia.

I also rediscovered my love for the Cranberries last night. I’ve got to say, it’s stupid how other people’s over-opinionation (I think I just made up a word) can effect my feelings about music. Last year some girl on my floor was making fun of the guy who lived next to me for borrowing one of my Cranberries CD’s. Her comment was that they were “over-emotional” with “sappy lyrics” (this was the same girl who told me my glasses weren’t “squared” enough to pass for authentic nerd-glasses…go figure), and somehow that gave me the idea it wasn’t okay to like the Cranberries as obsessively as I did other groups, even though I find their music (especially their early music) to be quite likeable, lyrics or no.

But then I got to thinking. If the Cranberries are “over-emotional”, what the hell does that mean about actual Emo music?! And other various Indie rock-bands?! Man. I hate the world. Screw that girl. I’m going to like the Cranberries.

Anyway, I was listening to their first album, which I can’t remembering listening to in quite a few years. And…they’re just good. I think Kerry has used the term “musical hug” to describe bands that provide musical feel-good. I could say that the Cranberries do that for me (see songs “Sunday”, “Waltzing Back”, “Still Can’t”). I mean, at least in that first album. I’m less of a fan of their more recent albums. You know, I should shut up now. I can’t even say for certain if they’re still an actual band.

I can’t forget to once again put emphasis on the fact that I am a jealouspants. It feels good admitting that here. I think I’ll do it again. JEALOUSPANTS.

Heh, Trailblazer…

listening to: tori amos – sugar

There was a lot of unbelievably cool crap to show up at today. I would link the majority of what I found interesting but eh. I’ll just mention the Japanese-equivalent type-writer, (we interrupt this blog-entry to bring you the latest news: PEOPLE ARE IDIOTS. Thank you. Back to your regularly-scheduled entry), the tea in pill-form, and –oh god– the pez mp3 player. Also, the thing with Bobby Fischer. Ah hell. I will link to that. Anyway, I’m a moron and had no idea that he was being held in Japan. Interesting that he’s been awarded Icelandic citizenship, though. Now he’ll get to hang out with Björk and Múm and all those others.

And now that I’ve totally spread boingboing germs all over my entry, here’s an article about’s unnecessary ad-whoring tendencies (or “NASCARing of”…), linked via

Also (while I’m on this unexpected linking-binge…), Jason Kottke apologizes for bashing Dougie Howser M.D. when it is pointed out that Dougie Howser could be one of the originators of the act of blogging. I don’t need a life or anything.

Onward, rude girl.

I had the living hell depressed out of me earlier tonight. Mostly just from seeing the photos of Germany that my Dad took while he and my sister were there last week. It made me tired of the flat and the Midwest and the Everything about life here. And then my Dad sprung his “advice” on me, from observations he made about this entire trip. And his advice was thus: that I should go to Germany immediately when I’m done with my undergrad, put off a real masters, and start studying German, now (since apparently my sister is almost too old to be a student there at age 25). At that point, I went totally opposite planet at the idea of how DIFFERENT that would be and further depressed myself.

It’s not that the idea of going to Germany and studying music doesn’t excite me. And it does make sense that I should take advantage of it sooner than later. But…blah. It’s hard when the idea conflicts with stupid ideas I’ve had of…what I’m going to do after I get my B.M. Especially with the connections I’m making and even the connections I’ve already made. I know two years abroad wouldn’t sever all ties but…I don’t know. There is also this idea in my head of how someday I want to go to Japan, or at least…continue the study of the language.

Basically, any far-out idea of sudden change fills me with a kind of stupid and consuming apprehension (thus how it took me until July ’04 to decide to go to Illinois for the Fall ’04 semester). Also the fact that I’ve been thinking in terms of the-month-to-come. Not the-next-six-years-to-come. Thinking that far ahead, I feel I might as well be in a box, already.

Oh well. I got over with some good old-fashioned moping (actually, it was kind of humorous moping). And MST3k.

Haha, and Kyra just finished reading the Girl Watcher for Intro to Japanese Culture. Behold:

Kyra: holy shit!
Kyra: that is the most remarkably pointless thing I’ve ever read! ;-)
Me: hahaha!
Kyra: A guy leers at girls and then dies.
Me: i told you you’d like the ending!

Hmm. This entry is awesome. Much like me.

Why Fine, Thank You

listening to: modest mouse – i came as a rat

I’m reading people’s archives again.

It occurs to me that I shouldn’t blog out of obligation. I should blog when I have something I want to present in the form of an entry, that is not just writing for the sake of taking up space.

It also occurs to me that I would feel like less of a bum if I could just motivate myself to do some work. Even a good solid hour of practicing at a time would get me somewhere. Rrr. Apparently I’m still apathetic. Not completely, since I think I’ve found a few things to be excited about…but mostly I still just don’t care.


Michelle is getting home tonight. Which makes me happy. I will feel great about frollicking with her, if I can possibly make myself do at least a small sliver or something productive, instead of just sitting here reading archives (not that those aren’t great, too).

Storyverse Jumping. And Crap.

listening to: shadowy men on a shadowy planet – 13

I had a dream about driving to a Youth Symphony concert in Peoria –dammit! I keep having dreams about Youth Symphony!!!!– and having to be late for it for some unknown reason. Interestingly enough, the concert hall turned out to be um…my house. I mean, it was my house, but it was also this gigantic old house with an amazing stage on the second floor (something like the house I saw a concert in when I was in NY over the summer…). I actually managed to miss the concert because I wasn’t wearing black (wtf, brain?). But then I heard through the walls that they were playing Tchaik’s Romeo and Julliet, and thought to myself that it was probably better off that I missed playing, because I hate that piece. Also, those weird interstate/roadway bits that are reoccuring in my dreams? There again, and completely disorrienting with the “driving to Peoria” part.

Obviously I have subconscious Youth Symphony angst issues. Or something. Probably the “or something”.

I was digging through this spool of old/weird/random CDs earlier, and I came across about 10 random mixes spanning from about ’00 to ’05. I don’t know whether to be more amused or more impressed with myself for continually having really weird taste in music from there to now.

That actually inspired me to put together a diagram of music I listen to based on related discoveries. It’s actually kind of interesting (well…um…to me, anyway). Two major names on the list having introduced me to quite a few. Bjork’s music led me to the most individual names related directly to her through association and collaboration. Shiina Ringo’s influence led to the most linked and overlapping artist-discoveries (ex: Shiina Ringo –> Number Girl –> Condor44 –> Luminous Orange). Oddly enough, R.E.M. only led me to like one other artist, which was Pylon. Oh blah. Memo to self: SHUT UP.

My life is sadly empty now that I’ve finished the entire Deathstalker series. It’s always hard jumping off of one specific (and also gi-normous) story-verse and into anything else.

Memo To Self: Obtain Life

listening to: stereolab – diagonals (aaaah stereolab stop being hott)

Man. I need to learn to coordinate typing, spelling and grammar.

Heh. People are so…awesome. And by awesome I mean complete ass-hats. Anyway.

Um…I have a complaint. And it happens to be weather-related. Currently, it’s snowing. And definitely late March. I normally wouldn’t care about late snow in March but a) it is my spring break b) emphasis on the word SPRING and c) I really wanted to go running again tomorrow morning (even though it hurts when I even think about moving).

That ends my really pointless update. Well, I guess between assessing my typing problems and stating that people are retards, it wasn’t so bad.

And Whose Fault Is This?!

listening to: shadowy men from a shadowy planet – 13

I think I’m fighting with Katie through a combination of lj and AIM away messages. I think I’m winning, because I have yet to be attacked by three woodchucks and a cucumber, but I would almost guess that Katie COULD at this moment be reading Deathstalker. If so, you may add a “WAHAHAHAHA!!” onto that last sentence.

I had a dream that I met my two favorite bloggers in real life. That wasn’t totally weird or anything (um…meeting online people IRL = FRICKING WEIRD). I think in the dream I believed that they must read my blog, too, because one of them said “as soon as I saw you, I remembered that one picture, and that one entry you wrote” and my thoughts were something along the lines of “aaaw! People associate me with past blog-entries! That’s so cute!”

I’m still crazy. Or…anti-crazy, if you account for the apathy. But blogging helps. So here I am. Interestingly enough, I think the weather is part of this problem. Like…earlier, I was watching Tonari no Totoro (shut UP!), and it just made me aesthetically pleased to see colors and plants and living things moving around. But then I would look outside and the contrast made me want to dig a hole and hide in it until something bright happens or spring just sort of hits me over the head.

As was mentioned, I was watching Tonari no Totoro this morning. And…I love that movie. Seriously. Studio Ghibli movies have this effect that completely drags me out of my bad moods. My copy of the movie is in raw Japanese, taped off of a TV broadcast in the mid-80’s and…I can never bring myself to fastforward through the commercials. Not because they’re loud and bright and crazy like most Japanese commercials nowadays but…because they’re really WEIRD. They have this way of making Japan look like a Bizarro-Asian-1970’s-USA…thing. They almost make me want to email my Intro to Japanese Culture professor and be like “the COMMERCIALS! They show ALL.”

I wanted to go running again this morning, but it was kind of cold out and OH MY GOD I HURT EVERYWHERE. So maybe tomorrow.

Does It Mean I’m Mental?

listening to: the pixies – alec eiffel

Tonight was god. Oh, wait. I mistyped, and probably meant “good”. You know, tonight was just not god. But it was good.

Right. So anyway, I was sitting in my room, reading. Kind of feeling funny and useless and apathetic (and CRAP randomized iTunes has this annoying tendancy of over-playing things and making me dislike them and I REALLY DO NOT LIKE THE FRENCH KICKS *deletes out of spite*). And I figured it would just be another night of sitting by my apathetic self in my disorganized room and feeling weird.

But then my PHONE rang. And…that NEVER happens (so I seriously almost fell off of my bed and onto the floor)! And it was Aaron, who I haven’t seen since…I don’t remember. I had sort of forgotten that Mike and Justin randomly drove to Arizona, leaving him by his lonesome. So we ended up sitting around and discussing music and things and…dammit. I’ve missed that kid. I mean this in the nicest way possible, and with apologies should anyone living in my hall stumble across this and go “…me…?”, but the people I live with in Allen are all PANSIES. I think I’m just tired of the emo and the indie and the artsy-fartsy. Aaron is none of those things. But anyway. Constrastingly, I hate Aaron because he has a majority of Batman the Animated series on DVD. And…yeah. You know how I feel about Batman.

Anyway. I’m still trying to figure out why I’m acting stupid. I don’t understand what my problem is, and why I don’t care about ANYTHING right now. Even the things that should upset me are making me…sit and not care. It worries me because…I’m always over-the-top and worked up about SOMETHING. It seems wrong not to be. I don’t know. At least my brain is reliable in that I can depend on it to NEVER SHUT UP.

Surf Rock Mess With No Surf But Pine Trees

listening to: man or astroman – curious constricts

Is it wrong for me to absolutely fricking love surf-rock?! Because I do, and I wish I could have known this about myself a little sooner. But then again, who couldn’t love a band whose bassist calls himself Coco the Electronic Monkey Wizard?! Certainly not me.

Oh God. I just ran like FIVE MILES and it felt AMAZING. I’m not sure how this was at all physically possible for me, seeing as I haven’t gone for a serious run since like November. I ended up running to the Northernmost end of the constitution trail, where everything is pretty much reduced to cornfields and silos. I saw the end of the trail and sprinted like hell, and then let out this SHRIEK when I stopped (which must have totally freaked out some farmer-person who was doing work by the silos), just because I felt so awesome. And then I turned around, contemplated the fact that I had probably 3 miles of walking to get me back home, realized I wasn’t all that tired and just started running again.

It is possible that I will be completely unable to move twelve hours from now, though.

I’ve really missed running. It’s just what I did while I was at Iowa. I needed something to de-stress and occupy myself with, and that was it. It kind of helped that the campus was fricking AMAZING to run through. I mean, the planning was so sporadic and random and hill-inclusive that it was fun to just run around making up routes. Heh. If I still read Ranma 1/2, I could refer to it as “anything-goes”, because it TOTALLY WAS. I’d just be running alongside the river, and then go “hmm. I wonder what the hell’s up that pathway veering right up here…”, so I’d head right, discover this giant crazy stairway that leads to the Western medical-campus and just…literally run around up there (in fact, you can see a lot of the stuff I saw when I went on my Iowa City runs if you click here).

I don’t know what it was about this year. Maybe it was the fact that I had a lot on my plate, musically. Maybe it was because Illinois’ campus is pretty much just a flat grid. Maybe it’s because I was having problems trying to accept the new location and wanted to avoid facing it altogether. But I just couldn’t bring myself to run. So maybe this will keep up. Or maybe it’s just a spring break thing. Maybe running will resume when I’m out of the dorms. Who knows. I should really try to keep it up, though, because the feeling is great.

Speaking of great feelings, I drove back to Urbana for a really great lesson, yesterday. I’ve been feeling so “blah” about Lalo, but have apparently acquired some skill with the concerto anyway. The entire lesson made me realize that I really really REALLY need to concentrate on my tension problems, because they are by far the biggest interference in my playing at the moment (sidenote: I feel the need to mention in this particular segment of blog that I do not appreciate being ditched for people’s boyfriends, especially when said people can’t just be honest with me about it. RAWR)

That said, I really should practice, but am still dealing with the apathy problem. I mean, I got some chutzpah from running, yes. But most of me still doesn’t care about anything.

Hmm. I honestly think I dreamt about pants last night…

Bite Me, Apathy

listening to: shiina ringo – yattsuke shigoto

I think this apathy and I are at an understanding. I understand that from last Wednesday until whenever, I won’t want to do anything or interact with anybody or move two inches, but at the same time I won’t feel satisfied with anything in life and I won’t understand why. And so I baked chocolate-chip banana bread.

I like to bake, I find. Except for the fact that I’m too damn slow for my own good. I’m sure that living by myself with a kitchen next year will improve this.

Anyway, the kitchen tv was on while I was doing this, because I really needed something to listen to at the time and…I hate tv. At least, I hate the tv that we get at home. We’ve never had real cable in my house. Only about 15 channels, several of which are religious or home-shopping network dealies that um…suck. No Cartoon Network or Comedy Central or any of the things that I’ve lived off of through my friends or at Iowa last year, where we got every channel in existence including NH-frickin-K (Maybe the dorms at Illinois get that crap, but I haven’t watched ANY tv to find out, this year).

But anyway, some stupid movie with Julia Roberts was on. And…maybe there is something wrong with me, as a girl raised in the ’90s in the USA but…I really don’t like Julia Roberts in any of the things I’ve seen her. To me she just seems dippy. I feel similarly about Sandra Bullock, somehow. Maybe it’s because I managed to avoid a-typical pop-culture almost entirely while I was growing up. Maybe it’s because I hate monotonous chick-flicks in the first place. But these actresses in their stupid chick-flicks seem almost like the full-grown versions of the MTV-emerged pop-stars from the last few years, Lindsay Lohan and Hillary Duff (Dear Nathan: if you are reading this –which I’m kind of guessing you are not– please don’t hurt me for saying that).

Hmm. But now I sort of feel even more-so nerdy and shut-in than I normally do. Blah. I mean, I guess I always feel that way after being alienated by what is “normal” in life. Hmm. “Alienated” might be the wrong word. Maybe “unnerved” would be better. Because it doesn’t make me wedge myself under a table or anything. It just makes me think “this is what regular people are about? What the hell is wrong with me?!” But…isn’t it kind of sad of me to feel that way in the first place? I guess it shouldn’t be. After all, thinking back on it now, what were the important entertainment names to me before the age of 10? The Beatles. Elfquest. Narnia. Anne of Green Gables. Yeah. From my point of view, just the mention of these things might explain a little bit of how I ended up the person I currently am.

I shouldn’t doubt myself so much when I’m forced to assess my favorite things with those of other people. I mean…judging the way I turned out, I could be a lot more screwed up and hopeless. Right? RIGHT?!

Mmmm. I think I smell banana-bread.

Apparently I Am Matsu Takako And I Solve Crime

listening to: maritime – adios

I’m kind of stuck in this weird rut of apathy, currently. I just can’t get myself to care. About anything. It’s been this way since last Wednesday, where so many things either did or did not happen that something in my brain flipped my “care” switch to “off” without my knowledge or approval. This kind of sucks.

On the other hand, I had a pretty cool dream last night. In it, I was Matsu Takako, and I got to wear a beige trench-coat and cool shoes and solve crime. I can’t figure out exactly what the specific crimes were. I think they might have had to do with random serial killers who were hiding out in the sewers of Boston. I was apparently personally hired by this Japanese man and his son. I think that part might have been reflected from all of the weird Japanese movies we’ve been scanning in Intro to Japanese Culture. Damn. Now I sort of maybe want to watch Long Vacation. Damn.

Also notable, I bought the best coat, ever, today. It’s this cool grey 3/4 length light-weight thing from the Gap. Original price: $118. Price paid: $20. Life is awesome. Especially because I love coats. And cheap things (Seriously. To hell with full-price anything). This in itself is reason enough that I should not be filled with weird apathy.

Too bad I still am. I can’t even muster the enthusiasm to type in all caps. Sad.

Hi I Am An Entry

listening to: shiina ringo – ishiki

Spring Break hurraaaaaaah…er…I think. I don’t know.

I woke up abruptly last night in the middle of the weirdest dream ever (Dream: I was playing in pit orchestra, and suddenly somebody came stumbling down into the pit, in a complete tizzy because the lead female was missing and they didn’t have an understudy. The person asked if there was any female in the pit with even a moderate amount of singing-experience, and somebody pointed to me. I was mostly like “wtf?” but was being dragged backstage before I could even get a word in edge-wise. I end up in full costume about to go out onstage, but am completely freaking out because I think I know the music but don’t have it memorized. So I’m sitting backstage looking at words and scores and basically cramming. I would like to thank Bach, for freaking me out enough about memorization that I have actual nightmares about it. And also “Flaming Pudding”, which I didn’t know until about five minutes before my first madrigal dinner, ever). It was really strange, because I was disoriented and unsure of where I was from the dream. But aside from that, I had a weird sensation of being sick. Like, my sinuses were going crazy, and it was almost like my sense of smell was going through some weird shock. Or maybe I’m just a were-something. Um…like, wolf. Yeah. Were-wolf. One of those.

I hate ambiguity, la la-lala! Neeext.

I’ve been reading Penny Arcade way too much in the past few days. But it’s so ridiculously amusing to me! It doesn’t really require much of a knowledge of video-games to appreciate, either! I mean, sometimes I get the feeling that I’m missing out on specific references and blatant mockery, but with an attention-span like mine, I guess anything is funny.

I hate it when there are things I want to say but have no idea how to even approach saying them. Or rather, blog, I should say. Lately I just feel like one pile of verbal puke (this is the point in the entry where I feel the need to mention the fact that I am spreading the phrase “yawning in color” in reference to vomiting. Aren’t I cool?).

I promise that one day I will not suck. Um…now go away.

Out The Fricking Window

listening to: number girl – super young

Today I recieved a reminder as to why I decided not to go on with choral work after senior year of high school. It came in the form of one of the four choirs working with the orchestra in the Walton we’re playing. My brains.

Aaaaah I feel like I just hit a wall.

I played in studio class tonight. Which…um. Okay, so all of the technical things I’ve been applying to my Bach in the last week that have helped it amazingly? Out the frickin’ window. Maybe it’s because I’m not used to the Music Building Auditorium. Maybe it’s because I had to sit through an entire two hours of studio class before playing and was no longer warmed up. But it sucked. I was, however, told that my musical ideas were very clear, and that even when I was sludging my way through memory-mistakes I played amazingly in-tune. Perfect pitch is good for something I suppose.

Afterwards, the studio went out for pizza, which was a lot of fun. Though…you know. I realize I say completely ridiculous and stupid things. All the time. But apparently I spend a good deal of the time talking to people who don’t mind that, because several times during the evening I managed to say some weird stuff, and was completely taken aback when listeners threw their heads back and howled. It’s only as funny or ridiculous as the listener makes it, to me.

Fwah. Then I came back to Allen and felt weirdly bad about having played so poorly. Not because I embarassed myself in front of my studio. I’m totally okay with that. But because legitimate things I had worked on that had been okay the day before just…SUCKED. Right in front of my teacher. I hate that.

Also, there are times when I manage to allienate myself unbelievably, even still. Tonight was one of those times. Times where I just take a look around me and go “what the HELL am I doing here?”

I don’t know. Today was somehow very unsatisfying, in many many aspects. I feel as though I have nothing to look forward to anymore. Except for maybe sleep. Which is totally what I’m going to go do right now.

Oh, wait. That was a lie. I am totally looking forward to reading Penny Arcade Archives (this is all Renata’s fault…). Oh god. Go look at this.

Fixin’ To

listening to: porno graffitti – music hour

God. I actually just forced this song onto Kerry. She laughed at me (good reason, too). What kind of a person am I?

Today was….I don’t know what today was. There was good and bad. The good was good, but the bad was also bad. Let’s start with the bad, first.

The Bad: I think I was at the music building for at least 10 hours, and I definitely did not get to eat dinner until about 10pm. I took the first aural skills dictation exam of the semester that managed to chew up my soul and spit it out. Well, moderate exaggeration. But it is, however, becoming evident to me that I actually do need to prepare for things like specific weird rhythm. In other news, I am still full of random guilt and anxiety. I am also experiencing weird and intense back-pain. Somehow I think much of today’s “bad” factor had to do with stressing out over lack of preparation for a cello-lesson.

The Good: I had the most amazing bow-hand breakthrough in a practice-room this morning. I figured out that although I thought my thumb was bent enough, it actually wasn’t, and was pushing my contact point to some weird angle. It’s difficult to remember that the thumb is supposed to act as more of an impact-cushion/support instead of a grip, but when I do, my sound improves a GREAT deal. In any case, I shared this with Brandon during my lesson, and it resulted in at least ten minutes of cello-geek-talk, which always makes me happy. The next Good item was an awesome Prokofiev rehearsal with the quartet, and Sarah giving me dark chocolate (gwaaah I love you Sarah). The best Good item of the day was definitely my lesson. I started out playing like crap, but that just happens sometime. I also somehow insisted that I hadn’t worked on the Lalo enough to play (which I think was me being dumb, because I actually had the next two pages prepared now that I think about it properly and outside of mid-lesson-panic…). I went on to play the Bach prelude and be told that my fugue was awesome. MY FUGUE IS AWESOME, he says. I also got to ramble about how stupid my week has been and how I am kind of full of anxiety, and it made me feel a lot better. Between all that and the aforementioned cello-geekery, it was great.

I also, for once, did my Japanese reading right after it was assigned. It was a weird, though. Girl Watcher, was the title. Basically a detailed account of a creepy stalker-commuter-guy who watches girls on trains in the 1920’s. The origin of “chikan”ing (or “groping”), if you like. I will say that I liked the ending, though.

Also, just a note that I wish I were Southern so I could apply the term “fixin’ to” to um…life.

Katie: I miss you already, too!! How is it that we never frolicked while we both still lived in the same town, dagnabit?! Never fear, though. We will totally cause trouble over the summer.

Something Something

listening to: tori amos – in the springtime of his voodoo (live w/hott steve caton solo)

Today was…something something.

I always feel like such a bother when I have to call my teacher about eight times at two different numbers just for the sake of one chamber coaching. I need to stop feeling like a bother, especially in consideration of the fact that my teacher randomly disappears off the face of the planet for hours at a time (and that’s when he’s actually in town!). After all, the squeaky wheel gets the oil.

I was thinking earlier, about how things were at this time last year, and how things are now. I have since come to the conclusion that things now are really good (despite my occasional “bite me, Champaign” sentiments). And also that I need to think less.


listening to: hooverphonic – neon

I am not allowed to feel guilty. Not allowed to feel guilty.


I hate my stupid brain and its stupid guilt complex.

Whee-hee, look at me! I am guilt-free!