Misanthropic and Apathetic

listening to: enon – elected

Somebody save me, I’m going WACK-O in here.

This semester needs to be finished with like a week ago. I have reached the time of the year in which I’m finished with people. Finished. I am done and I don’t want to talk to any of you. Musically, I am full of energy and ready to do crap, but I can’t seem to because AAAAAAAAAAAAH.

I just want to say, before I go on to anything else, that I really really like all of my music-school friends here, and that it’s really nice being appreciated as a person and musician and whatnot. But…I’VE HAD IT. I hate having to witness drama. I hate having to over-hear gossip. I hate GIRLISH, GIGGLING TENDANCIES. I am an antisocial misanthropic FREAK and I like it that way. So go away, drama-inducing twits. Go away, people who complicate your lives meaninglessly and then ask me why life sucks. If you need me, I will be hiding on my secondary screen-name and reading William Gibson books.

(note: my being so bitchy at the present time is definitely related to the fact that we looked extensively at this in my Japanese class, this morning. Admittedly, it might be why I want to read Cyperpunk, too. Goddamn)

The Results Are In And…

listening to: pylon – stop it

So…I got my hair cut and…

100_2345_1

You get the picture.

So yeah. It was all one big hair-cutting adventure, I guess. It freaked me out a LOT at first, but it’s slowly growing on me (hah, growing. hair. GET IT? Maan, I quit). I don’t know how I feel about the whole…layer thing. It was pretty much what had to be done if I wanted my hair to be substantially cut but still remain a little long, my hair was SO DAMAGED. The lady who cut it played the game of “Why is Talia’s hair so damaged?” with me but didn’t really reach any other conclusion than a good hair-chopping was long overdue (“Do you swim a lot?” “No” “How do you style it?” “Um, I don’t” “Do you play with fire a lot?” “Let’s just pretend I do”). Again, not sure how I feel about layers, but that’s the cool thing about hair. It grows out.

*edit*

I just had the best exchange about my hair with Kerry (who is actually home tonight, thus the AIM-conversation thing…)

Kerry: AAAAAAAAAAAAAA DIFFERENT
Kerry: i like it!!!
Me: yay!
Me: i’m glad i have your approval
Kerry: it’s like …bordering on sexy for me, and i don’t want to make things weird so i’m going to just–LOOK OVER THERE!
Me: hahaha
Me: that’s going in my blog
Kerry: haha fabulous
Kerry: kerry and talia: keeping the lesbian rumors alive since 2005
Talia: *dies*

Just one other reason that I have the best room-mate ever.

One Reason I Am In The Best Quartet Ever…

listening to: the orb – plum island

Holy crap I like Orb. They’re like the slightly more electronified version of Hooverphonic. Well, earlier Hooverphonic, anyway. Hooverphonic has gotten kind of…weird, recently. Er, wait, scratch that. Rather, Hooverphonic has gotten LESS weird, and thus I find them less interesting.

I’ve been noticing lately that every time I’m looking forlorn or tired or whatever, the members of my string quartet give me chocolate. Like, yesterday, after our coaching, I was feeling droopy and tired, about to go up and practice for a bit longer, and Sarah saw me and asked “Are you okay? Do you need some chocolate?” I said I’d be fine, and that was okay and all, but then she goes, “Oh, but I just bought an extra bar of chocolate! You should have it!” and then she just GAVE it to me and walked off. It just seems like everybody is equipped with chocolate for any purpose.

Aaauh. I am looking forward to the end of this semester. I’ve been having trouble keeping my unruly antisocial tendancies from owning me lately. It’s just so hard when I HAVE TO BE AROUND PEOPLE ALL TIME–whoa, down, self. Down. I’m okay.

In other things, I am indeed getting my hair cut this evening. By a professional person-type. This is a pretty substantial event for me considering the fact that I’ve generally always just had my hair trimmed by my mother or sister, and it’s always been pretty long. I really like having long hair and stuff, but it’s just become too damaged, so we’ll see what happens.

Not Required Reading

listening to: joshua kobak – the great unseen (live)

It completely weirds me out when I discover the blogs/ljs/xangas of people I know in real-life and their writing style turns out to be completely different from their actual manner of…being. Yeah. And now that I think of it, people frequently tell me I write the same way I talk. And I…guess that’s true? AAH (note: Xangas bother the living hell out of me for some reason).

Hmm. So I went running tonight, which was something I definitely needed to do. Stress relief to the nth degree. I think at this point, I’ve found a route that works, and that is to just run the quad in its entirety (south quad included) as many times as is needed. With perhaps a detour to Krannert to run stairs (which I really love even though IT HURTS LIKE HELL). And…yeah. Just what I needed. Still no Iowa City run. You know, it’s funny. I think that’s what I miss most about last year. The crazy running.

Speaking of Iowa City…yearg. I was reading over my locked lj-entries from around the time I was trying to decide to transfer and…oh my god. It depressed me so much. I mean, I was keeping that crap under wraps in such a horrible way and it HURT. So seeing as it’s been almost a year, I am feeling pretty good about what I am doing with myself and the decisions I’ve made, and I am always just trying to figure out what my deal is, I’ve unlocked some entries (note: keep in mind I did not make the final decision to transfer until mid-July). And…yeah. Readers are totally not required to read the crap. Or may have already and stuff.

3-19-04
5-3-04
5-5-04
5-9-04
5-10-04
5-23-04 (this one just makes me smirk at my absurdity)
5-30-04
5-31-04 or JUST LIKE MY DAD pt I
7-09-04 or JUST LIKE MY DAD pt II
7-20-04 insane follow-up
7-23-04 less insane follow-up

As you may or may not notice, a lot of what I wrote was…you know. Over-emotional. I mean, not just over-zealous and crazy as is usual for me. Just…over-emotional. But…you know, I was entitled to be a little bit emotionally down.

Really. I just want to get out there that I am happy with the outcome of my decision. But at the same time, I regret none of my past decisions, either. Everything’s just sort of been this big, extensive learning-experience…

All The Wrong Song

listening to: rem – all the right friends

GOD I hate this song. Trying again.

listening to: yann tiersen – rue des cascades

Oooh, 8000000x better.

Today was AAAAAAAAAh. I mean, I think that was a good AAAAAAAh. I played my jury. Which I thought was…okay. I make the mistake of trying to read my teacher after I play. And I shouldn’t do that because he’s kind of unreadable. I later had a lesson, right after he finished listening to juries, and I discovered the reason he looked disgruntled when I was in the room was because he’d just been listening to two hours of juries (he actually came up looking frazzled and told me he had just listened to five bassists, to which I went “I’m sorry,” and told him of my only chamber-music experience at Iowa in which I played the Hoffmeister thing and…sorry, bassists of the world. Maybe I’m biased because I had to play nothing but I’s and V’s for an entire semester, but your repertoire kind of sucks). Anyway, I went on to having a 40-minute discussion…thing. And it was really cool. I just got to blab about technical things, and we discussed the summer and a new cello and entering competitions and string quartet things and…it was good.

Other than that, I was…hmm. I was kind of nonchalant about the whole jury thing. Like, I wasn’t nervous. I think I just don’t get nervous when I play in a small room for a handful of people who are teachers and I know are only there to help me with their criticism, anymore. Aheh. It’s just the whole playing-for-an-audience-in-a-hall thing I need to work on. But anyway, I was acting kind of zany all day. Like, I saw Masumi walking up and down stairs multiple times when I was taking an extended break from practicing, and he looked at me and said “aren’t you playing a jury? shouldn’t you be all frantic and scurrying around and stuff?” and all I did was say “Nope, I’m wearing my lucky socks,” and flash him my lucky socks.

I also finally met the elusive Andrew, my sister’s boyfriend. He was…tall. And energetic. And he gestured with his hands a lot. And I honestly think I freaked him out with the “sounds-like-Erica” phenomenon. Really. It’s pretty freaky, especially since we don’t really look alike.

Which reminds me. All of you people who are totally convinced my sister doesn’t exist, and that she is just some figment of my imagination? We need to fix this before she leaves for Germany. As it stands, Aaron must be the only one of my friends to have met her. And come on. Why would anybody believe that kid (Hi Aaron. Or Katie. If you read this blog. You probably don’t, but whatever. Note: I’m kidding)? So anyway. Yes. We’ll have a “discover the existence of Talia’s sister” party. It can be disguised as a farewell party or something. Maybe I’ll charge five-dollars per sister-acquaintance, because I like profit (Hi Erica. I don’t think you read my blog, either. And I am, again, kidding).

Oh, hell, it’s late.

I Said Nothing About Hair

listening to: enon – come into

Hell, I’m tired.

I played for the Pacifica joint-studio thing, which was okay. I felt that try as I might, I could not produce sound. Like, all of the things I had learned to apply to my playing recently were futile in helping me achieve projection. But then I listened to some other people play, and received some feedback, and came to realize that the room we were in sucked, and I felt much better. Also, there were a couple places where I nearly started laughing because I was moderately amused by what I thought was my own suckitude, at the time. And I should definitely not do that tomorrow during my jury.

So, as is mentioned above, tomorrow are juries, whoo, and then interestingly enough, a lesson not two hours after my jury. I imagine we’ll just talk. Or I’ll end up playing more Lalo. I keep having these really productive thoughts about giving a summer-recital, and then I keep yelling at the productive part of my brain to SHUT. UP. I’ve had ENOUGH of you for a while, productive part of my brain!!

But still. That would be cool. I could play my entire fricking Bach suite for memory (which I really really wanted to do but had no time this year), as well as the entire Lalo. And maybe some Popper concert stuff, for side. Hey, um, brain. SHUT. UP.

Right. So juries. And a lesson. And a rehearsal. And some classes. And me possibly doing something compulsive that was convinced of me by a quartet-mate. We’ll see about that one. If anything, it would eliminate a lot of split-ends from my life.

Also, I know that it’s rainy and kind of cold and crap, but I really like this weather. I mean, I probably won’t like it if it keeps up, but…yeah.

There was…stuff. Really cool/important/something stuff I wanted to blog about. That had nothing to do with cello or hair. Wait — I said nothing about hair. This is not the blog-entry you are looking for. Move along.

Compulsive Volume Adjusters

listening to: stereolab – les yper sound

You know what drives me absolutely batty? Compulsive volume-adjusting syndrome. I don’t know, this is probably mostly annoying to me while listening to orchestral/instrumental stuff. Trapped in a car. With a family member who cannot keep away from the control-knobs. Hmm. But maybe it’s just in my head.

Um, right. I first really noticed this when I was still going to school in Iowa City, and my sister drove out to pick me up (that day was weird for SO many reasons). Anyway, the drive back to B-N was pretty cool. She forced music onto me, and I returned the gesture by forcing music onto her (specifically Yann Tiersen and Enon. Oh man. I’m awesome). But…she made me listen to the Benjamin Britten viola concerto, which was admittedly a really fricking cool piece. However, as we were listening, she kept adjusting the volume in the car according to the dynamics of the piece and…AAAAAH!! How can anybody as musically awesome as my sister do that?! I mean, it’s just frustrating to be listening and following and waiting for something really dynamically robust to happen and then–oh. Volume down three notches. Or even better, when there’s a quiet part and she turns the volume way up to hear, and then is seemingly like “GAH! SO LOUD” when dynamics change again. RAH.

Are you a listener of classical music, specifically on road-trips? Do you adjust the volume according to the dynamics of the piece? Know the signs of compulsive volume-adjusting. Or I will kick your ass.

Omoide In My Head

listening to: number girl – brutal number girl

Oh jeeze, this is so nerdy, but…I MUST.

The only lyrics of Number Girl I’d ever encountered where those on musicwhore’s page for Num-Heavymetallic.

So I did some Japanese googling and found a pretty cool site with lyrics to ALL of their albums, including my new extremely-obsessed-over, Sappukei. And…

Okay. In the beginning of lots of their songs, the drummer (Inazawa) did what I assumed to be a count-off, though I could never figure out exactly what he was saying. This site told me what he was saying, and it’s sure as hell not counting off. In the beginning of Brutal Number Girl:

論・客・用・無し = ron – kyaku – you – nashi, or as directly translated, “controversy” “guest” “business” “without”

Damn. So much for counting off.

The beginning of SASU-YOU:

斬り・捨て・バリ・コワ = kiri – sute – bari – kowa, or…
“slash” “throw away” “abuse” “break”

Damn, they’re…um…less-than-happy. But I like them so so much. Have I mentioned that I’m going to marry Inazawa?

I’ve actually been thinking, if I were to translate their lyrics, would it make me more awesome or…pathetic? Because I sort of want to. Arg arg arg I love Number Girl.

*edit*

In the beginning of Trampoline Girl, it’s ton-deru Ina-Zawa, which translates to “Fly, Inazawa,” and I am geeking about this way too much. Also, the beginning lyrics of Brutal Man is the title of the last song from Zazen Boy’s second album and…

I am going to stop. I promise. See? I’m finished. I’m clicking Publish Post. See?

Nemu…

listening to: takako minekawa – milk rock

So…studio class was…something. I played…not that great. And then when I finished, the first thing Brandon said was “okay, feedback? say something nice about Talia’s playing,” and…yeah. It was not an intended implication against my playing. I think he sensed I was not pleased, was all. So then we spent possibly 15 minutes just…talking about how to shift. And bow-grip. And tendencies during performance. And…I had this random 20-minute guilt trip of doom right after I played. I just felt bad for not being able to magically apply everything we talk about during my lessons, and then I have to make people repeat things to me over and over again. But then I realized that…hey. I’m only human. And stuff. And I guess in retrospect, I did play alright. So…okay.

And…my back has a knot in it and I can’t reach it AAAAh.

I guess people enjoyed my English-lacking audiopost. That makes me happy.

I should really go to bed, being as there’s nothing better I could be doing, and…damn. Tired.

General Consensus

listening to: man or astroman – domain of the human race

I think the general consensus is that I should not post with audioblogger unless I know that I am fully capable of speaking English. ENGLISH.

Knifin’ Around

listening to: modest mouse – doin’ the cockroach

Pardon me, and stuff, but I really just feel like whining mindlessly about crap. Fear me.

Goddammit. Where the hell was everybody during orchestra today (I feel tired and irrational. So I’m going to be loud and offensive, you bitch)?! Not that it matters or anything. It just kind of irks me that a good percentage of the strings miss our day of string sectional and crap. Actually, people who weren’t there totally missed seeing a random violinist guy hand Schleicher the jellied can of verbal whoop-ass. It was amazing and hilarious and I was in tears of laughter for at least 2 minutes along with the rest of the strings.

I will definitely not mention the fact that lack of intonation kills me. Slowly. Please, cellos. Please. Oh. Except it seems I just did mention it. Damn.

DAMN DAMN DAMN.

I just had to get that out. I think I’m good.

The Pacifica had an excellent concert tonight. I like Beethoven, yes. But HINDEMITH. Oh god the HINDEMITH. And the SCHUMANN. But mostly the Hindemith. And…gah. After the concert, Brandon told me that we (as in my string quartet) should play it next year. And then I had a heart-attack.

Unfortunately, my concert-going experience was not at its best. I ended up sitting next to an old couple who muttered incessantly to eachother as movements were beginning. And, one of them had…well, something that started making this ridiculously loud electronic buzzing noise in the middle of the Beethoven that would NOT GO OFF. I started wondering if it was a time-bomb, and if we’d all be blown to smithereens (damn I need to use that word more often, smithereens) within moments. Finally some guy further down the row wrote on his program “PUT IT IN YOUR POCKET” and shoved it at the guy with the loud…thing. Which apparently fixed everything. Which was good because it was most distracting thing, ever, and people everywhere started looking around and making eye-contact with eachother that must have conveyed “on the count of three we all just knife this guy.”

During the intermission, I somehow got into a conversation about ways of stealing our teachers’ amazing instrumental abilities. It came down to eating their hearts. And that somehow made me think of some very Deathstalker-esque manner of assasination. And I end this paragraph here.

I also made a rather significant observation during the Beethoven that if Masumi were to shave his hair and goatee, he would resemble Stuart Davis in a frightening half-Asian sort of way. Maaan, I miss Stuart.

Oh so soul-ful is me.

I will write about my Thursday some other time.

*edit* I think I just edited this post about twelve times.

Some Crap Like This

listening to: the orb – promis

Dammit. I think I have a new semi-shameful obsession. Why could I not have discovered The Orb like…five years ago, when my poor confused 14-year-old soul was directly in need of this sort of weird trip-hoppish electronica…stuff? Regardless, I really fricking like The Orb (sidenote: yes, they are the ones who did “Fluffy Little Clouds”, and I really fricking like that song, too).

Anyway. I put the full right-hand links back up. Because I decided I’m way too lazy to actually write about the crap I read the way I wanted to in a seperate linkification page. Just click the links and read the crap, okay?

Also, I think I was just being irrationally anti-people when I de-linked things last week. Maybe I thought it would subconsciously comfort me or…some crap like that.

I Quit

listening to: royksopp – eple

I should be studying. Studying. Studying. But I feel the need to get one little thing out there, and that is…

CONGRATU-FRICKING-LATIONS, ERICA!!!!!!!

My big sister, Erica, has won herself an audition and accepted the offer to play with an orchestra in Germany (and also some sort of internship thing)!! I…can’t remember names or details since I didn’t get much of them over the brief call, but it is a VERY BIG THING. I am happy for her and proud to be one of her relations.

God. That is so cool. I almost feel like a failure-face right now, but I don’t care, that is so cool.

Have I also mentioned the fact that Erica is going to be sitting principal second violin with the National Repertory Orchestra this summer (I hear this is where my parents met, and…I really know nothing about my parents, apparently)?!

Maybe this is my lack of appreciation for Eduardo Lalo talking right now. But…I quit.

Best Concluding Statement Ever

listening to: stereolab – spinal column

So it wasn’t until yesterday that I realized that this week will turn out to be just as, if not more hellish than last week. Maybe m*dizza will lend me some of her amazing powers of…being full of awesome shit (pleeeeze?!).

Hmm. I was realizing yesterday while I was reading some Dave Barry stuff that…there’s no need for me to be hard on myself for starting sentences with “so,” because the man does it all the time, and he is hilarious. Best concluding statement* ever:

I would say that the single most important conclusion I reached, after having spent three weeks traveling through Japan, as well as countless hours reading, studying, and analyzing this fascinating culture, is that you should always tighten the cap on the shampoo bottle before you put it in your suitcase. Because otherwise – trust me here – it’s going to leak all over everything, including your toothbrush, and when you brush your teeth you’ll be foaming at the mouth, as though you’ve been bitten by a dog infected with herbal-scented rabies.

–Dave Barry, Dave Barry Does Japan

Woo, tangent. You know, I think it’s really just that I like using blockquotes way too much now that the border goes down the side of the text…aaah, dear self, shut UP shut UP SHUT UP.

Okay, so if you see me online or catch me blogging again or whatever, yell at me.

*note: the “best concluding statement ever” does not give any example of starting sentences with “So.” I was basically just yanking your chain with that one. Or continuing to have my regular 5-second attention span. Your choice.

Flickr Freebies!@!!!

listening to: the orb – outlands

AWE-SOME!!!!

Seriously. I am so geeked out that I get another 100 storage slots for FREE-EEEE!! I was about to whine about how I was considering upgrading to a pro account, too. Hee.

P.S. Why do I have so many god-damn pictures of my bird on my account?!

Loserly Academic Things

listening to: rem – mandolin strum

1) I just successfully registered for almost all of my courses. I’m still waiting to hear on the existence of one, need departmental approval of another, and am in need of a placement test for one more. Other than that, all went well and I didn’t even have problems getting into the Gen-Ed I wanted, despite the fact that I have the academic standing of a freshman, currently *shakes fist at transferring*

2) Plans for the summer are solidifying. I am not going to Musicorda, despite the fact that I was supposedly accepted. I’m going to be home, taking at least two Gen-Eds (one with Ivy, apparently, which will be cool and motivate me to not be a lazy twat). I’ve also been asked to be a regular cellist for a gig-quartet (like, professional non-student players). Aside from this, I intend to practice cello like crazy and hope to take lessons with whatever teacher will be around or anywhere near. Or even a bit far away. Road-trips are fun.

Other things I that will hopefully end up happening this summer:

+ a crapload of running, because it feels so good
+ reading like hell, to make up for the not-reading I do during the year
+ house-sitting, because my parents are definitely going to be in Italy for a time
+ sorting through and organizing all the crap in my room at home, because I never had the stamina over a weekend home and it WILL be a summer project in ways
+ freaking out, because HP 6 and Howl’s Moving Castle will be coming out, and this list needed a fangirlish tangent
+ New York-ing, because we do it every year

3) I am the most disorganized academic twit in existence, officially. Will I ever have my crap together? Survey says…

P.S. I am contemplating changing the block-quotes so the border is vertical to the quoted text, a la Kottke. This has officially been the most pointless “P.S.” ever. Nobody cares and I am fantastic.

P.P.S. Not only did I contemplate, I coded. I like CSS. A lot.

Knife Fight!!!!

listening to: soul coughing – is chicago, is not chicago

I figure since I didn’t post much of an actual entry today that I’d waste some space with a…

100_2056

This is from the night Katie came down to visit. She and Justin and I just sort of wandered for a while and then inevitably got into knife-fights in the architecture building. I am awesome because I totally meant to post this like a month ago, right after it was taken. Props to me.

You’re Funny And You Don’t Even Try…

listening to: rem – crazy

There are three reasons you should click this link:

1) I live to spread musical um…love, I guess

2) I am awesome

3) Do you even know what R.E.M. sounded like before they were all “oooh, life is bigger” and “daaaay-sleeper”? I didn’t think so.

Crazy could possibly be one of my favorite R.E.M. songs ever. Which is maybe funny since it’s not even their song. It’s a cover of a song by Pylon (you know what else is funny? R.E.M.’s version is way better than Pylon’s, even though I like Pylon a lot, too). Anyway, I love R.E.M. in any form, but their early stuff is definitely my favorite. So…take it or leave it. And stuff.

Cause your head is shaking
Cause your arms are shaking
And your feet are shaking
Cause the…
Earth is shaking

Off with me.

Shikkari Shiro (…or Pull Yourself Together)!

listening to: number girl – sappukei

Oh man. I just totally reaffirmed my web-savviness in ways I cannot explain lest I bore all possible readers to tears. You have been spared.

As I will not stop mentioning for some reason, this past week has been hellish. It was hellish for cello reasons. And school-work reasons. And then emotional-basketcase reasons. I sometimes find myself quite honestly wondering if I have some serious anxiety problem, inhereted from the crazy half of my family. Wait. Did I just say crazy half? Because I meant whole. I get it the crazy from my entire family. And sometimes I mean to ask if any of my distant relatives have been committed to mental institutions and stuff. Because…well, yeah. You saw how I was acting. But then again, I can’t recall where in the year I have lost my cool in such a major way, here. Maybe it’s just that unexplainable karma/timing phenomenon thing that was simply unwilling to back down until it crushed me with its bare hands. Or whatever.

And then, this is mother’s day weekend. And I have to say I will always remember Mother’s Day of 2004. Mother’s Day 2004, my Dad drove out to Iowa City (while my Mom stayed at home and did nothing, apparently), to retrieve some of the crap from my dorm-room, hear my stinky Philharmonia concert (because at Iowa, we were required to be in the symphony orchestra and a chamber orchestra, of which the one I was in was…less than great, I’ll say), and calm me the hell down. This was the point in the year at which I had been accepted by U of Illinois. My parents and I were the only ones to know of this. And…I was freaking the fuck out. I couldn’t decide what to do, or even where to begin with such a decision. I had just realized how much I loved Iowa City and the Asian Languages department, while simultaneously realizing that in order to actually become the musician I wanted to I could not remain there.

At this point in time, particular members of the cello studio were still kind of not treating me too nicely, especially behind my back. “She thinks she’s so good. She’s such a stuck-up jerk,” I would hear from word-of-mouth through my few friends. I was paranoid that people were spreading rumors about my possibly leaving (you read it: paranoia). I was afraid that my teacher did not respect me because of what those other students were telling him, or that if he still did, he would soon lose all respect if he were to find out I wasn’t telling him something this important. This was on top of actual seemingly-life-changing decision in the first place, and I could not handle it. I wasn’t sleeping. I was going for absurd 40-minute runs almost every night, because I was obsessed with the location and needed to take my insanity out in some productive non-cello way. I was spending at least a half-hour a day in tears. Basically, I was losing my mind (Hmm. I was also listening to nothing but Number Girl, if I recall. Did it help the crazy or make it worse — we will never know. note to self: shut the f up about Number Girl).

So back to Mother’s Day ’04–my Dad and I went to Bruegger’s Bagel Co., sat down and ate. And while in Bruegger’s, my Dad must have told me every story of a major indecision he could have experienced, ever. The decision about moving to Europe. About moving from Europe. About moving the family to South Whitley, Indiana. About whether or not to leave ISU when I was about 5. And do you know what I learned, sitting there in a bagel shop, listening to my Dad tell some of the best stories ever to grace my ears? I learned that I will never be capable of making major decisions. NEVER. Thanks a lot, Dad. Your daughter is JUST. LIKE. YOU.

But…I made the decision (have I ever mentioned here that I did not make the final decision with actual cancellation of enrollment and sending in of signatures until mid-July?). And I am happy with it. Remembering that weird, shifty period in time reminds me that I have no room to feel bad about anything, now. Life here is good, and only as hard as I make it in my head. Sometimes I also get to thinking that a person can only truly appreciate the sort of contented and happy inner-calm in life by experiencing some of the extreme opposite, too. And…I wonder if maybe I create more chaos because on some level I don’t feel I have suffered enough to appreciate the good? I don’t know. It’s beyond me. This paragraph is now officially beyond me.

*reads above* Oh my god. I’m going to ignore the fact that apparently I was a Japanese salary-man in a former life and just made big reference to ganbatte ethic. I’M NOT PAYING ATTENTION, GANBATTE ETHIC. I CAN’T HEAR YOU.

The Ultimate In Random Amusing Quotes

listening to: enon – believo!

I don’t know how the rest of the world feels, but it’s kind of sad when we here in room 308 end up watching MST3k and then do nothing but quote from said watched episodes. At every possible chance. And in our away messages. Because seriously. I guarantee that almost all of my away messages are MST3k.

Speaking of quotes, I’ve been collecting quotes and saving them as Blogger “drafts” since about November. Here are the best of the random amusing quotes:

“Oh. I guess we aren’t the first people here”
“Damn. Now I can’t take off my pants”
“What did you just say?”
“Nothing”
–Talia, Justin

“I think that in order to solidify the tempo you should…should … man this is a stupid pencil. I mean, it’s got KITTENS all over it. Kittens with BIG EYES”
–Masumi

“Michelle…Michelle?! Where are you! I’m lonely and standing in some bushes!”
–Talia

“Left-wing vibrato!”
“Did you just say Ralph Nader vibrato?”
“Hey, I like that even better!”
–Kyra, Brandon

“…it makes me want to PUNCH people!”
“I know fifty ways of breaking a person’s arm, so don’t look at me”
–Talia, Justin I.

“It’s NNNNNNNAKED TIIIME!!!”
–Kerry & Talia

“I never meant to imply that your feet were anything but awesome”
–Talia to Justin

“I want a cookie!!”
–Jenn

“The cookie thing started during my last lesson”
“So your student brought you cookies?”
“No. We were talking about Thanksgiving dinner, and then I said to her ‘I want a cookie!!'”
–Jenn, Kyra

“Is that my sock?”
–Kyra while deliriously sick

“…I got violated. And it was fun.”
–Marco

And finally, the most recent awesome exchange. This happened during one of those not-so-rare occurances wherein I enter the “talking” stage before I make it to the “listening” stage…

“Doesn’t it feel weird when you put on pants after you…”
“Haven’t been wearing them for a while? Yeah.”
“…just shaved…?”
–Kerry, Talia

Merry Christmas, You Wonderful Old Couch!

listening to: luminous orange – sun ray

For the record, giggling mindlessly over random MST3k quotes with me for over five minutes at a time means you automatically qualify as best room-mate ever.

It’s really sad, but sometimes when I need a laugh, I just go here, or here and life is immediately better.

I may have mentioned that I read Akira for Intro to Japanese Culture. I may not have mentioned that it just made me want to read William Gibson stuff. OMG love cyber-punk. It also made me want to read Nausicaa, for some of polar opposite of the whole Post-apocalyptic universe thing. And the Miyazaki. Oh, Japan. How I love thee.

In response to things…

Jamie: “The only time I ever heard the word ‘God’ out of my parents mouth was preceded by an ‘oh my’ or followed by a ‘dammit’.”

Haha! Excellent way of putting it. Much the same way in my house. And…it kind of makes you wonder about exactly how religious our parents were when they were younger. I think my Dad was actually…you know. Pretty Jewish. If my mom was willing to go to a Jewish Synagogue for 5 years, I get this feeling she probably was a little more open about her supposed strict Catholic upbringing.

Rebecca: I agree with the whole “missing biblical references” thing. I think the only reason I actually know the things I do is from reading British literature, amongst other books, that required me to learn the context. And…yeah. It totally took me two tries to read Good Omens because of that *shifty eyes*

Oh, and also, *drops stuff on*

Mazeltov, People

listening to: stuart davis – flower of a zero

My name is Talia, and my pants are falling down.

I would like to once more apologize for going absolutely ballistic in the last couple days. It was like…eXtreeme stress. And I think I’ve finally figured out that when I get like that, I should not be allowed to even think of interacting with other people. I should just be…shut in a room, until all of the crazy subsides. I apologize to anybody I might have gone off on or confused horribly.

Have I recently pointed out how much I love Dooce? Because in case I haven’t, you have this hyper-link for proof.

This entry made me appreciate how open my parents were about religion in the upbringing of both myself and my sister (Admittedly, this entry also made me snarf uncontrollably over the idea of Dooce having given birth to a conduit of Satan, but you know). Let’s see. My mother comes from a Polish family and was raised Catholic. My Dad was Jewish. So I guess I could be called Jewthlic. Or Cathowish. Woo, tangent. Anyway, up until I was about six or seven, I recall that my parents associated moderately with the Synagogue in Bloomington, my sister actually having attended Sunday School there. I recall vague things about the Synagogue and the people in it, and actually remember going to a Barmitzvah when I was 3. But after a point in time, my parents became far more busy with work-things, and this teamed with the fact that they were never strict practicers of Judaism in the first place (what with my Mom actually having been Catholic and all) resulted in them pulling away from the Synagogue. I ended up not going to Sunday school as my sister had, and basically grew up with no ideals of organized religion in my head. That’s alright. I like to think I turned out pretty well. What scares me about organized religion more than anything is hearing stories of self-conflict and repression, like a lot of the things Dooce has occasionally covered. I am thankful I never had to deal with an emotional burden that great.

One maybe um drawback of being separate from and almost completely ignorant of the workings of the major religious stuff while growing in mostly-Protestant Central Illinois was…well…the idiocy of other people. I remember in fourth grade, some girl I was sort-of friends with was going on about a bible story, and suddenly asked me where I went to church. Me being 9 years old and not knowing any better announced plain as day that I didn’t go to church, and this girl just looked at me for a moment before telling me that “I needed to go to church so I could get into Heaven.” Aaah. Memories. At this point, I think I was vaguely aware that people like this were out there. I had recently over-heard my sister explaining to my mother in frustration that one of her good friends told her she was “going to hell,” so I did a good 9-year-old thing with my situation and I didn’t make a fuss over it. But I did tell my mother about my encounter later on and it amused her greatly.

That was only the first of several encounters. There were at least two more throughout elementary school, and one or two through the two years of junior high. Funny story, when I first arrived at Chiddix Jnr High, I recall finding etched into one of the toilet-seats of a girls bathroom “Erica D is a satanist” (note: full last name was used, but is being omitted here for obvious reasons). Which I thought was awesome. I ran home and told my mom. “HEY MOM! GUESS WHAT?! Did you know that there is a toilet-seat at school from six years ago that says Erica is a SATANIST?!” And again, my mother was greatly amused. High school was actually the turning-point. I made friends with a great number of people with varying religious beliefs, and we ended up talking that sort of thing out. A lot. Of course I had never taken people’s jibes at my heathenism seriously. I mean, to my family, it was a matter we chuckled over at dinner. But it was just nice to know that…people were okay with the fact that I was pretty much making up beliefs for myself as I went.

I’m not sure what my original point was intended to be. Maybe I wanted to recount my experiences in organized religion, or lack there-of. Maybe it’s just that I really respect Dooce and dj blurb for deciding to give their daughter a choice of her own (…did I really just refer to dooce’s husband as dj blurb on my blog? i need to obsessively read people’s blogs less).

Mazeltov, people.