Whooo! Blaaaarn.

listening to: enon – inches

I hate all the people whose away messages indicate they’re playing Kingdom Hearts II right now. I HATE YOU GUYS.

P.S. I just rued again.

You know, I think I should just officially announce myself as being in the class of ’08 from now on. Because…I am, at this point.

Okay. Something completely awesome happened today. And I can’t remember what that thing was. Let’s see. Did it have to do with 408? No. Although Keeril did talk extensively about himself, and we enjoyed this very much. Orchestra maybe?! No. We didn’t have that today. Thankfully. Food? Cello? BRITTEN?? No. No. No. Crap! I can’t remember. I think somebody said something completely hilarious, and I didn’t write it down or manage to remember it. I suspect, anyway.

Eh. Can you tell I’m too tired to be blogging? I’m going to go to bed so I can get up at a moderate time and go running. WHOOO. Blaaarn.

The Freakout (Positive) Continues

listening to: flaming lips – a spoonful weighs a ton

Current ponderable item: How I can make it work so that I can also go to Chile and Brasil with YOA to play Bach’s Passion of St. Matthew with Kent Nagano conducting, this August from the 20th to the 31st. Please keep in mind that school starts August 23rd.

Jesus God. I have to admit that I have been feeling slightly guilty about turning down other work-related summer programs to go have fun in Europe/South America.

But right now I DON’T THINK I CARE.

Hair! That May Have Been Too Fast.

listening to: arab strap – love detective

Uuuuhl. That was two hours of my life that I can never get back. Schleicher, come back! Orchestra is killing my brain-cells! Although now I’m sitting last stand by myself! It’s completely awesome. I am totally not kidding. Sitting principal has given me this huge appreciation for being in the middle, and especially in the back.

SHIT! Guess what comes out today? GUESS. GUESS. Yes. Kingdom Hearts II. I refuse to buy it until May. May isn’t that far, right? Just over a month. Right? It’s just that…I need to write my 408 paper and learn my recital music. And I don’t think those things will happen if I pretty much sit and play Kingdom Hearts II for all free hours of the day. Hmm. I should check Penny Arcade. Not that they’ll have anything to say about Kingdom Hearts that they haven’t said before.

Oh hey. I just found my Swiss-Army knife. Now I can use it to open things. And cut other things. Or PEEL ORANGES. It can be my orange-peeling knife! Er, I mean, knife-peeling orange.

Rrrrr. I hate the Facebook. I hate that I might somewhere deep down not hate it. I hate that it makes me stalk people. I refuse to acknowledge it as a main means of communication with people who I should be friends with IRL because I see them on a day-to-day basis. Sometimes I suspect that my life would improve a level if I could leave the internet behind me. But let’s face it. That’s not happening anytime soon, now is it *clings to blog*

It’s frustrating being an introvert of awkward sorts, is all.

Yes.

COMMENT RESPONSES!!

Renata: No worries about…that one night where we said we were going to do stuff but didn’t. I say that it just means we pretty much have to the next time we’re both around. And also, thanks! I am geeked about the summer!

Kimb: HAHA. I like thinking that my last name is a conventional money term. I mean, in Russian. Also, I think this is pretty much proof that I’m not making this ten-pelts-or-more shit up.

Megan: It’s cool about the blog address wrong-ness thing. Everything here is just inane rambling, anyway. And if you are really beating yourself up about it, there are always archives. Lots of them.

m.e.d.: Yeah, hard contacts. My mom actually misses her hard contacts. Because she’s a crazy woman. And I’m glad you like the glasses.

Rebecca: My dentist story can kill you with its brain!

Addawibba!!!

listening to: lightning bolt – rotator

My English skills. My word-order skills. I dare you to top them. Today, at some point when I was wasting time before going to play my concerto competition thing, I was standing in the main lobby, just standing. Talking to some people. And suddenly, Vince pulls out this high-tech, big-ass knife to peel an orange! And apparently he keeps it specifically for orange-peeling occasions? But wait, that’s not even the good part. I faced him and promptly said “What, is that your knife-peeling orange??” And the MOMENT I said it, I realized exactly what I had said and…alright. That’s it. I’m done. With words. Forever. I’m not even sure what I find more enjoyable, my brain’s language-area problem or my typing issues.

Dear today, bite me.

Masterclass this morning was good. Time spent after masterclass attempting to not practice was good. Concerto competition was ENTERTAINING because they ended up having me skip through most of Roccoco and asking for the LAST. VARIATION. FUCK. Because I definitely hadn’t worked on it since, oh, February. But it went alright. I don’t care. It’s over and I can get on with my stupid life. Lesson directly after concerto competition was good but draining.

It’s days like this where my introverted self starts jabbing my insides and I start to want to just burrow into a hole, and possibly throw things at people from that hole. I enjoy performing and being social with people, but it drains me.

Also, today I realized that I feel guilty for succeeding in things (IE, being accepted to summer programs or even sometimes sounding good), and that’s probably not a healthy thing. IT’S THE JEW-CATHOL GUILT THING AGAIN. DAMN MY PARENTS. WHAT WERE THEY THINKING. Sigh. I just don’t have the all-caps in me right now.

I also happen to be experiencing people-talking-to problems again. Because…some people are cool and I want to talk to them but GUESS WHAT? I am awkward and my timing is always bad. So what can I do about it?

Life will be better after tonight, as I’m done with pretty much all of my crap for the week and KRONOS QUARTET!! They’re playing a bunch of new/minimalist stuff, and something by Sigur Ros. Very cool.

I promise that in the next post, I will respond to all recent comments in a witty and entertaining manner. Stay tuned.

Electric Dog-Polisher

listening to: beck – soul sucking jerk

A note to the weather: Heeeey, weather. If you stop doing your precipitating thing, I will go do my praciting thing. It is a promise.

Well. Hello, school.

You know, I should have been a little less doubtful of myself. It turns out that places are actually accepting me for the summer. I just got a notification from Kent/Blossom that they will take me and even give me scholarship. Hah, all the people who were like “it’s IMPOSSIBLE to get into Blossom. it’s IMPOSSIBLE to fit a Cadillac up your nose!*” Well, cool. Except I have already given my word to YOA. This is another problem. I would really love to do everything. It’s probably a good thing that I only had approximately an hour to decide on YOA, and that I agreed, and that now there is no possible decision-making problem to deal with. Because…decisions and I do not get along well, if anyone recalls anything about deciding to transfer. Whee!

Okay, moving on.

Tomorrow will be…funny? Absurd? Something something? I have no idea. I’m playing a masterclass at 9, which is great except I’m worried I’m going to forget how to play Britten. Always my worry, and always ridiculous. Then later, there’s this concerto competition thing. And sadly, I am apathetic. I can’t help it. I’m trying to muster some sort of caring, but it’s just not happening. I suspect that might be an okay thing with me, as I’ve noticed that I do a lot better when I’m keeping it real as opposed to getting all uptight and in Tchaikovsky’s business and…stuff.

Oooh, nonsense. Here, because I am so nonsensical, have another Spring Break photo.

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I am pretty sure this is one of my favorite photos ever. This is me and Michelle being weird at Steak’n’Shake. Because…what the hell else was there to do? All signs point to nothing.

Alright. I am actually going to practice. Half-heartedly. I think it’s the weather that getting to me.

*That’s a Steve Martin thing. And I’m sure it is impossible.

Ten Pelts Or More…

listening to: stereolab – kyberneticka babicka pt 1

God. It’s like Stereolab has managed to crack the weird minimalist code of my brain. This is like…what happens when I get the same four measures of something stuck in my head, and it very slowly changes and moves around and…*head explodes* Damn you, Stereolab.

My sister called from Germany yesterday (which was initially freaky, because I didn’t realize that she actually calls home more often than not, and when I picked up the phone and answered I was like “…wait. It sounds like I’m talking to me. What’s going on here.”), to say hi and leave a threatening message for my mother to send her a recipe. And…we were just chatting, when she mentioned something interesting about our last name, and some heritage junk.

Okay, so. I’m pretty sure that in the past, when I’ve asked where our last name comes from, I’ve been told that it’s a German name. But recently, in searching online fairly incessantly, I’ve found that it’s really not German. All that comes up is that it’s Jewish. Yes, my Dad is Jewish, it makes sense. But freaking A, where did the name come from?!

My Dad doesn’t really have many relatives around, or anyone who might know some of the family history. My grandfather died in the 1970’s, and my grandmother recently passed away, with her fairly deteriorated memory unable to tell us that much. We know that my grandmother’s family came from Baden Baden (Southern Germany), but I am pretty sure I had never heard anything about my grandfather’s side. Recently, though, some cousins or somebody, I think, did some research and found that my grandfather’s family immigrated from a city in Hungary, before WWII. Interesting, though somebody pointed out that it didn’t mean the family name was Hungarian. It seems just as likely that the family could also have been from Austria or Germany.

Erica was telling me over the phone yesterday that she was searching for articles about anti-semitism in French schools, and somehow managed to come across a search engine through the Jerusalem Holocaust Museum website that is connected to a database of Holocaust victims. A search of our last name revealed that most of those with our last name had lived in Hungary and spoke Hungarian, but that many also came from Slovakia. Well. And looking now? No kidding.

Additionally –apparently my Mom had known this, but I was not aware until Erica told me– our last name is Russian derived, and comes in various other spellings (Diker, Dikker). It was a fur-trading term that meant “ten pelts or more.”

Knowing what I know about the Jews in Europe and anti-semite attitudes of the past, it’s probably going to be difficult to say that my ancestors came from any one place. I could imagine that they started in Russia and worked their way West and South from there. Honestly, I just have to say that I think it’s cool to finally know a little bit more about my Dad’s side of the family, even if these bits of knowledge are only possibilities, and not outright facts.

For the record, just to speak for the other half, my mother’s family is Polish-Catholic. Her maiden name is Stysh, but I imagine that back in the day that name probably had two or three extraneous c’s or z’s in it, or even another y. Just because. So I guess I’m just sort of an Eastern European…mutt? Not that it matters, now. I just can’t help but be completely fascinated by junk like this.

Just to retouch on the Holocaust Victim Database search, I am amazed that such a thing exists. It’s definitely worth a look for anybody who is even vaguely interested.

And now, off to school again. Hurrah.

Must. Leave. Blog Too Awkward.

listening to: buffalo daughter – no new rock

Apparently I start to hate blogging when interesting and especially exciting things happen, because then I have to actually blog about them, and that takes time and typing and…brain. I mean, brain power. You see why this might not be a good idea?

So. Right. Remember that audition I took in February? Of course you do, after you’ve clicked the permalink. Well, knowing that they were sending out results between the 15th and the 30th, I had been waiting. And waiting. And WAITING. And checking my email. About 18 times a day. And hearing nothing. Until yesterday, where I’m calling somebody back on my cell-phone while checking my email, and all I see is “Winner: Youth Orchestra of the Americas.” And I’m on the phone, so I basically stop speaking coherent English. Er, I mean, I speak even less coherent English than normal (which as you can imagine must be pretty absurd). And so then I hang up, and open the email and OH MY EFFING GOD. I WAS ACCEPTED.

And…whoa. This is not just some other summer festival thing I applied to. This is an orchestra consisting of people ages 18-26 from North and South America. The orchestra will tour from July 9th to August 9th in Italy, France, Belgium, Germany, and the U.K. It is all expense paid. If you would like to read more about YOA, check out their about page. Never, in a million years, did I think I would get in. I basically auditioned because it was a free audition, other friends were going, and Rachel told me to. And I got in.

I am very. Very. Excited. I don’t think I even quite believe it, yet. I spend too much of my time being kind of self-doubting freak to comprehend this. I don’t even like talking about it. I think I have to go now. Bye.

Love The Plastic Mile

listening to: stereolab – plastic mile

*listens to above-said song about 800 more times*

Dear Stereolab,

I’m glad that you seem to be getting on with life after the passing of Mary Hansen. Moreso than you were with the last full-album release.

Sincerely, going-to-listen-to-this-song-800-times-more girl

So, I’m also glad to hear that my throwing up on my dentist when I was 5 is amusing to everybody.

Yesterday I took the train up to Chicago, picked up my bow, and ran around the downtown area with Kerry for maybe 6 hours before I caught the train back to Normal. I am bad at retelling, so here are a few pictures to give you an idea:

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Union Station

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Cloud Gate Construction

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The construction did not stop me from taking a few more photos

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Grand Lux Cafe

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Kerry and Beignets. I have honestly not been hungry at all since eating those around 12:30pm yesterday.

Yes. So. Food and cello bows and lots of walking were had by all. It was awesome. I enjoy downtown Chicago when I don’t have to go sit in a room and rehearse for 3 hours. Er, yes.

Dammit! My Dad is having a poker party at our house tonight. This sucks for various reasons, mostly because there is already very little to do in the house when there aren’t random ISU music faculty occupying the downstairs. I mean…it’s fine. I think I’m being rescued for tonight. I just have these very unpleasant memories of sitting in my room reading a book for 3 hours on Friday nights with Poker Parties going on downstairs and me being like *grumble grumble growl* And also, my parents both freaking out about our house being unpresentable to people other than ourselves and going insane to clean every inch of it before then. That was also one of the awesome things about leaving for college, was thinking I would never have to deal with that again. DAMN MY TIMING. Oh well. As I said, there is hope that I will be rescued tonight.

Hmmm. I guess am good at contributing to our being the most antisocial family on the planet.

Weather be damned, I’m going running!

Hilarity In Unexpected Places

listening to: µ-ziq – melancho

random amusing quotes: “Yes! Everything is your bow’s fault! Out of tune notes? It’s the bow.” – Brandon, after I explained that my second bow had issues

The hell! I broke my 2nd bow! Which sucks because I wanted to practice. And my regular bow is being rehaired. But yeah. I was just playing the crazy movement of Britten, annd it was going really well, for the first time in perhaps ever. And all of a sudden this wooden chip flies out of the end where the hair meets the frog. And the little metal thing comes loose. So now some inner parts of the bow are exposed. And I really cannot use it. It’s a fortunate thing that I go to pick up my regular bow tomorrow.

I went to the Dentist this morning. And it was hilarious. Okay, not really. But…for the record, it is very hard to keep from laughing at something completely and horribly amusing you’ve thought of while somebody is also working on your teeth. My dental hygienist was scraping away at my teeth. And I was thinking “man, this is unpleasant. Although I suppose it could be even less pleasant. BUT HOW??” At which point I recalled the time when I was 5 years old and I actually THREW UP on my dentist. And then I sort of envisioned myself trying to talk to my dental hygienist about this the next time she stopped scraping and gave me a moment for small-talk. Because…that wouldn’t make her alarmed or uncomfortable or anything. “Hey! There was this one time when I threw up on my dentist!” And true to my completely idiotic nature, I found this funny and almost started laughing. It took a very firm effort to not do so. So when I kind of shuddered once trying to control myself, she stopped and went “Oh, did that hurt?” And I just sat there thinking “…inner poise! inner poise…!”

Still no cavities. I think I could still put more soul into my flossing efforts.

Later, I drove to Urbana and had a lesson. And it was good. Very good. And then I decided not to stay and see the Octopus Project, and to just come home. Sad. But whatever.

Yeehaw, The End.

The Danish Mind Meld.

listening to: mission of burma – academy fight song

You’ll have to pardon me, but I can’t get over the new-and-awesomeness of the new glasses. This is the first new style of frame I’ve had since sophomore year of high school (HAH! See?! I wore them before they were all popular and crap), though I have actually had two pairs of glasses that were nearly identical to each other in that time (the first pair met a somewhat tragic-though-amusing end). So, okay. I meant to do this before, but was about to be kicked off the computer. Obligatory before-and-after photos:

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The before (damn, the lighting in my apartment sucks).

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The after.

I was not planning to get frames so entirely different from my first pair, but wham-o! I really like them. Have I not already mentioned this about 800 times?

You probably don’t need a history of Talia-wears-glasses, but here you go: I got my first pair of glasses when I was in 4th grade, but between that point and junior year of high school, I only wore them occasionally, when I needed them in class/etc. It wasn’t until the beginning of senior year of high school that I was all “whoa. maybe I should wear my glasses because suddenly my vision is just crap, no thanks go to computers and things.” And from then on, I started to feel naked without them, as well as everyone being freaked out if I ever didn’t wear them. Thus why I think I only wore contact lenses maybe 4/365 days last year, all of those days being concert/recital related.

So anyway. Glasses. Do you need a side-view of the new pair, show-casing the reflectant property? I think you do. Although you probably don’t need this much of my face in one entry, ever:
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Alright. I promise to stop with the narcissistic entries.

P.S. I finally got around to watch the MSTed version of Hamlet today. It marks the first episode of MST3k I’ve actually fallen asleep during the initial viewing of.

Second Day Of Spring My Aaaasssss

listening to: kirinji – bluff spirit

Hmm. So this morning I woke up, looked out my window, went “what the hell” and then called Brandon to cancel my lesson in Urbana, because I did not feel like driving in a snow-storm. And then I was a good sumaritan and shoveled snow. But seriously. Weather! You do this to me every year, but this time you have gone TOO FAR.

But other than that, oh man. It is spring break and I am little-miss accomplish stuff!! So very pleasantly surprising this is that I actually made the statement bold. I mean business, apparently.

Yesterday, I went to the Cingular store so they could fix my phone. The # key has not been functioning for a while. If you’re going “who uses that key, ever?” I am going to sheepishly admit that the only reason I knew the # key was busted was because I tried to maarndoimlog. What? Whisper whisper Audioblog whisper. I’m going to duck the things people are throwing at me now. Okay! Okay. I was someplace cool and away from a computer (I can’t remember where, for some reason…), and I remember very clearly thinking to myself “Damn. I wish I could blog this right now.” And then I realized –bloody hell!– that I COULD! So I dialed up audioblogger, yakked for 30 seconds, and then tried to confirm the message I had recorded with the # key that mysteriously did not work. So anyway. They fixed it. Or rather, replaced the entire keypad.

And then I went and got NEW GLASSES!!! I love them like no other.

Hmm. I just remembered where I was when I tried to audioblog but discovered I couldn’t. And it definitely wasn’t anyplace cool. I was stuck in a huge traffic-jam headed North on I-55, on my way to Kerry’s in Naperville for an awesomely adventurous visit, during a weekend where she was home. I was about five miles from the exit, and crawling along, and very very bored. So I surmised the situation, and realized that I could audioblog! Until of course, I couldn’t because the # key didn’t work. The end.

Fortunately, I got to reschedule my lesson for tomorrow. And….nnngg! Because…The Octopus Project is playing at Canopy tomorrow night! And I really rather like them! And cover is only $5. But…I am most definitely taking a train from here (Normal) to Chicago to pick up my bow early the next morning. And it had never been in my plan to go see them. But…now that I’ll be there Wednesday….hmmm. *plots*

Well, whatever. You’ll hear back from me on that one.

I Just Can’t Stop Thinking About That Sandwich

listening to: pizzicato five – roma

Fuwaaaah! 10 hours of sleep means coherent blogging at its best. Er, hopefully.

Yesterday morning I got up at 6, in order to get to Chicago at a reasonable time for bow rehair and cello inspection with Forrest, who was also getting some cello work done. Overall it was a highly successful trip. The repair-guy allowed me to let me look on as he adjusted and checked out my cello, and it seems that the support he inserted on the inside really isn’t affecting the sound. It was in fact, probably my bridge. After moving and adjusting and straightening, things seem to be much improved.

Yeah. The problem was so subtle that I could barely tell anything even wrong. It was just like…a vague inability to ring out 100% on some lower-string notes. And also, the wolf-tones going effing INSANE. And all of my other strings carrying sympathetic wolf-tones. It was ridiculous. I would just be playing on the D string. Going “lalala, my cello is nice and ringy,” until I’d hit the F and it would be like “NEEERRRR, refusing to speak!” Which was just…for lack of better word, BAD. But I’ve been playing, and everything seems a great deal better. The repair-guy actually showed me how I could play around with the bridge myself, to adjust the sound. Which is great, since I’ve been too freaked out to extensively mess with my bridge before this point, where somebody has just told me that I can basically do whatever I want with it without destroying all life as we know it.

I had to leave my bow to be rehaired, which might suck because my second bow probably needed to be rehaired even more than my first. So I’ll be going up again on Thursday or Friday to pick it up, I guess.

We didn’t really do much aside from cello things. I do believe that I ate the Greatest Sandwich Ever. Really. It was so good “I just can’t stop thinking about that sandwich!” I also should have brought my camera, for the few moments of FAB and downtown Chicago insanity, including this sign above the toilet on the 10th floor of the FAB, informing us of quite extensively of what we could and could not flush down the toilet.

*edit* Somehow, when I was typing this entry, I forgot to mention the part of yesterday where I came back from Chicago, went to Colleen’s recital (which was AWESOME!!!!!!!), and then ran into Jenn and Rose who were visiting. Carry on with the entry.

This was followed by my driving home, walking in the door around 8:30, and becoming completely overwhelmed with exhaustion and blogging nonsense. I went to bed at 10:30, and slept ten hours. It was heavenly. I feel superb at this moment.

Today I am going to practice, run, sit on my lazy bum, and also finish the RML mix of doom that I have been working out here and there (the Frankenmix thing is so awesome that I have to spend way too much contemplating it and putting things together. Apologies for the delay). Basically, I am having trouble finding a “theme song” for myself.

Unbe-Something

listening to: buffalo daughter – jellyfish blues

Ohhhhh Myyyy Godddddd I am so unbelievably tired. So tired that it is, in fact, unbelievable. UNBELIEVABLY SO. It is right now 8:45pm and I am considering going to bed. Don’t provoke me. I’ll do it! Do you want an entry or not??

Now I just feel possibly schizophrenic.

Orchestra concert last night was good. I think. I hope. Except for the people sitting in the second row who decided they wanted to whisper through entire. Freaking. Tchaikovsky. I wish it were an okay thing for musicians on stage to throw things at audience members.

Immaturity: Check

listening to: man or astroman – curious constricts

I think my attention-span has left for break without me , because God, Damn! I am wasting so much time. I mean, but not in a bad way. Like, there is an infamous RML Mix CD of DOOM thing, and it’s way cool. And I am trying to put one together. The guidelines have turned into what I guess would be called a Frankenmix! with specific guidelines for each song. Which yeah. It’s awesome except for the fact that apparently I HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO A CAPELLA SONGS. AT ALL. Oh well.

So, time-wasting: check. And also, moderate immaturity: check. This morning in 408 we ended up doing these weird breathing excercises by some crazy woman named Pauline Oliveros, which basically requires you to shine a blue glowing light in the center of a room and then breathe deeply and let your voice naturally work its way into the breathing. There were several problems with this. For one, we had no blue glowing light. This meant that we just turned out the lights and sat in our pitch-black windowless room, breathing loudly. And…god. People couldn’t keep quiet, myself included. Because of the deep-breathing, I could feel myself becoming dizzy. And I don’t know what it was. But you know how when you get a group of kids together in a class-room and turn the lights out, suddenly everything becomes completely entertaining and funny and weird? IT WAS LIKE THAT.

In our discussion of the experience after the fact, I openly stated this. “It was difficult to start the excercise from total silence in a pitch-black room. Because apparently I’m, like, 12.” I enjoy those moments where I am 100% comfortable enough to say things like that to a professor/class.

So…yeah. I just…CAN’T CONCENTRATE. On ANYTHING. I have a class at 3, a rehearsal at 5, and then there’s an orchestra concert at 7:30 (TCHAIK 4 AND SIBELIUS VIOLIN CONCERTO. YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO BE THERE). And I just can’t…sit…still. Because do you know what I have to do tomorrow? NOTHING. *edit* It was a lie. To Chicago!

So. I will go mail a thing. And play some notes. And go to class. And be back here eventually. Woo. Oh crap. And also call a repair person in Chicago. I hate calling people.

You Have To! You Have To Go To The Moon!

listening to: oniki yuji – houston

Man. So today in conducting seminar, we had “auditions,” where a select few people who had excerpts under their fingers played a theoretical blind audition (behind a huge shelf with chairs on it, with everybody listening and Schleicher making comments). So I figured, hey. I just played an audition a month ago. And I’ll probably be taking more in the relative near future. What the heck. And so I played. And…I hate Mozart 35. And being completely randomly tense. I mean, my tension problems are getting better. I sound way better than I did before I ever made sense of the tension. But…there are still these wildly problematic things I do that I can’t control and…this may sound weird, but I need to stop playing solo crap with my eyes closed. Because I go into my own world when I do that, and in order to actively keep myself from working into tension, I need to be super-aware and with-it. Uuuuh, yes. But anyway. I sort of played well, but DAGNABIT, why does my right arm refuse to function when I am even the slightest bit tense? WORK, damn you.

A very large group of kids came in to orchestra today, to listen to the Sibelius violin concerto with Yao-Tsu laying, and I once again had to remind myself not to be such a freakin’ potty-mouth in front of the kids and their parents. Because…this is how it happens every time, when children present themselves:

Me: *klutzes out in some form* Dammit! *realizes that young children are present* FUCK!

It’s like…I’m saying something inappropriate, and it actually occurs to me that I’m saying this inappropriate thing when I shouldn’t be, and I just act out by yelling more. It’s kind of like that David Cross bit:

Like, you lock your keys in your car but you do it in that way where you have enough time to process the information and actually say it like, “oh shit i’m locking my keys in –WHAT THE FUCK! I FUCKING KNEW I WAS DOING IT AND I DID IT… WHAT THE FUCK’S WRONG WITH ME!”

I love David Cross.

I ALSO LOVE RENATA. And Rob Lowe covered in parrots? Wtf.

(Actually, that last part kind of makes me miss the bird)

Aaaah, just one more day of obligatory…stuff!

In The Swing Of Things!

listening to: zazen boys – usodarake

Dear people who call my cell-phone multiple times over the course of the day and just keep trying to call because you can’t seem to reach me,

LEAVE A FREAKING MESSAGE.

Love, Talia and her friendly voicemail message in 3rd person.

I should really change my voicemail message. There have been problems with speakers of foreign-languages with the 3rd person thing, and I am totally not kidding.

Lesson today. No coaching, thankfully. There was also running. My general comment for the day is something along the lines of: GOD! Why is my RIGHT ARM so STUPID??

I’m usually not squeamish. Until there are WEIRD PARASITIC THINGS that have to BURROW in the back of people’s HEADS and basically take over their personalities and make them eat bowls full of maggots and when they are driven out of the host bodies, they all gather into one master host-body thing that has to be blown up in the most gruesome manner possible. And then I am squeamish.

No Star Trek before bed, at very least.

The Dooce/Kottke Factor Is Blinding

listening to: number girl – pixie due

The awesomeness! It blinds!

I enjoy not having anything to do at this moment. Lessons at 3 that I could be practicing for don’t count.

Damn! I can’t get over the awesomeness that is Music 408! We talked more about Rochberg (see last entry), and actually read materiel that he had written. Material having to do with how the human brain recognizes music, the abstract ideas of how music and memory are related, and how serialism and chance compositions have “foredoomed” themselves. Thank you, Mr. Rochberg. Let us be friends.

Don’t get me wrong. I am interested in the processes by which serialist and chance compositions come about. Just not always the way they sound. It’s true, there is less of an identifiable pattern to latch on to. But this does not mean that 12-tone and aleatoric music should not be studied.

Horaay, ridiculous 20th century music.

Also, I think I have to agree with Renata on this one: AAAHAHAHAHAA! That is all.

Carry on as you were.

Again, Delinquency

listening to: Rochberg – String Quartet No 3

Damn! This piece really does rock! Yeah, 408.

Yes, it’s 7:30am. No, I’m not done with my listening journals. Shut up. They’ll be finished before 9.

Have A Little Anesthesia

listening to: stuart davis – anesthesia necrophelia

Yawn.

So uh…it seems that my last entry was linked to from the West Wing News Blog. Awesome. Except for the fact that I, aheh, didn’t actually see the episode. Only the “good part,” a clip of which was available on the intarweb. Also, I’m not the greatest of TV-watching fans. I stopped religiously watching West Wing after freshman year of college. This is not helped by the fact that I currently get five channels, none of them NBC. So…HAH. Or something.

Hsin-Hue’s recital was tonight. This signals the official end of insanity as I have been experiencing it in the last two weeks.

Damn, I’m tired. And I still need to do my listening journals for 408. Yes. I will go do that. Colleen informs me that the Rochberg is wonderful and tonal and simply good, in comparison to a lot of the weird textural things we’ve listened to so far. I am scared to admit that I secretly really like some of the mindlessly weird crap we’ve listened to. Such as Ligeti…

Responses to comments…

Michelle: The Cuban Wolves song, you twat. I think m.e.d. has it stored somewhere. I can’t remember.

Rebecca: Elf-mounds? Also, for some reason I feel that I should inform you that I’m getting search referalls for stalking brent spiner. Horaay, question mark?

And By Goodnight I Mean Shut Up

listening to: µ-ziq – swan vesta

Yay, free hour.

Hey. This was linked from the most recently altered Google icon, as of last night. Mars. In…color. “They’re juicing Jerry Garcia!” God. Stupid MST3k.

As it turns out, thunderstorms are awesome. From a super-cell avoiding distance, anyway.

And also, hi. Sorry for not updating and stuff. And insinuating that I wanted to hit people in the face (I didn’t, really. Penny Arcade made me say it). The past week was filled with rehearsing too much and watching Star Trek on my off hours. To the point where my two most coherent thoughts were actually “Brahms is hard,” and “Must watch Star Trek!” Tzushan’s recital (Brahms, and Jolivet. The Brahms Piano Trio ROCKED. Go us!) was on Saturday, so I am at the end of my rehearsal-crunching hell period. One last recital tonight, and then I am truly freed up. Horaay.

So…about the last West Wing. It’s about freakin’ time! I made up another yahoo account last night (having completely forgotten about my old one like…three years ago) just so I could get into the Josh/Donna group and witness people freaking out. It was good fun.

And now, I must go do things. Thank you, and good night.

Note to Michelle and m.e.d. – my blog was found in a search for “cuban wolves.” I thought it was important that you know that. Also, does one of you still have the song?

Is His Brain Sexy?

listening to: tokyo jihen – service

Oh! I remember at least half of the things I wanted to blog about earlier, before I forgot about them in a fit of spaz-dom.

Here is an interview with Jonathan Rauch, the guy who wrote Caring For Your Introvert, an article I linked to some time back. It’s cool. And it reinforces once again that I’m not just 100% awkward, but that I am indeed an introvert. Everybody who has ever known me IRL is going “…you have doubts?” But it’s true! I have. Because of my occasional tendency to be excessively loud and talkative. I just keep thinking there’s something wrong with me, and that I just missed some developmental thing in my brain that deals with speech and communication. But then I read the article and the interview and go “Aaaah!” Like…the stuff about parties, and small-talk, as well as needing time to recharge from socializing sort of hit me in the face. THAT’S ME. It’s sad, though. Sometimes I would very much like to be able to just go up to somebody and talk to them, instead of going up to them and being awkward or just plain lurking. Ah well.

Also, Jupiter is growing another Red Spot. All links ganked from Kottke.

So, tonight Kerry and I went to this Chinese place on Wright St, which I possibly maybe suggested doing after Tzushan brought Pei-yi and I take-out from this place on one of our extremely busy nights before a rehearsal, and it ROCKED. Unfortunately for me, they had a lot of Japanese stuff on the menu, including a one “beef with egg rice bowl.” FUCK. GYUUDON. I can’t go to a place that serves gyuudon and not eat it, so my self-governing laws go from the year like…2001 or something. And this would have been fine except…well…I guess I got my hopes up. It wasn’t…bad. It was just missing pretty much everything important. Like…shoyu (soy sauce). And dashi. And sake. So anyway. In my compulsive need for Chinese food, I’ll certainly go there again. But I’ll be sure to not order gyuudon. Ever. Sigh. My love for gyuudon is a tragic one.

I started watching Overdrawn at the Memory Bank out of a definite lack of Star Trek, and…and…I think it’s my favorite episode of MST3k. Seriously. It and Time Chasers. What I really want to do is watch those two and other future-setting episodes and compile the “…of the future!” gags. Because they kill me. A few:

SAT Farms — of the FUTURE!
UPS Fashions of the future!
So…aging lesbian nuns run the future?

Kekeke…

Hmm. I think tomorrow sucks. But I can’t remember. I’ll have to consult my planner.

That is one big affirmative. Tomorrow sucks. Partly because…stuff changed? So now I don’t really know exactly when things are happening. It appears that I have a rehearsal directly after orchestra, followed directly by a coaching with Sibbi. I love Sibbi. But the man is a SLAVE-DRIVER, even in the late evening. I think this means I need to go to bed. Like, now.

I blogged a real entry. I WIN.