Sit Sit Sit

random amusing quote: “‘A relationship in your life will soon become permanent’.”
“Guess what, Rob? I’m your new Dad for life!”
-Rob reading a fortune cookie fortune, Kerry

And just why didn’t I know about this?!

I didn’t end up attending any wild Halloween parties over the weekend, so I never got to flaunt either of my reasonably dorky costume ideas. The first one was to dress up completely in black, paint my face black, and dance around listening to my iPod, as an iPod Commercial (idea from sister, and probably originally the internet). The second was to write random words on pieces of white duct tape and stick them all over myself as Magnetic Refrigerator Poetry. That’s right. Bite me, stereotypical expectation for college females to dress up as sluts. I refuse to not be boring!

I am still registered to vote in my home county, so when I was home over the weekend, my mother suggested I vote early, since the county clerk office was allowing this very thing on Saturday between the hours of 8am and 4pm. Sadly, I did not know of this until about 3:25pm Saturday afternoon. By the time I got to downtown Bloomington, it was about 3:40. By the time I figured out that the County Clerk office was actually in the Old Courthouse and not one of the offices across the street, it was about 3:45. By the time I had walked around the entire building searching for the one entrance which was actually open, before finding the correct entrance and seeing that there was a MASSSSIVE wedding party having their photos taken right in front of the entrance, it was around 3:50. I love things like that.

As you could expect from me, I gave up and drove home. Tomorrow I’ll mail out my absentee ballot.

I had a very cool lesson with a member of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra today, who is in giving us all lessons while our teacher is out of the country. The lesson was only 30 minutes, and so I only played a Bach prelude. The emphasis was basically on harmonic movement, and how I need to be aware of both harmonic structure and the other musical aspects and how they come together. Also, his cello is amazing. Also, he used to lead sectionals for Chicago Youth Symphony. Not that I think fondly upon that experience at all. Not that it matters.

Cool as having a lesson with a CSO member is, it is not cool that we keep having 2 + hour masterclasses scheduled RIGHT after orchestra. Seriously.

Braindead and ashamed of being anywhere near a keyboard in this state. Shame on me.

And so I sign off.

The Post I Just Tried To Make About Film Crew…

-Where did it go?
-Where is it?

Yeah. So Rebecca sent me this link about Film Crew, and ZOMG.

Also, it’s weird hearing Kevin Murphy’s voice coming from Kevin Murphy and not Servo. I call this the Garrison Keillor effect.

Also, Wild Women of Wongo?!?? Hahahahahaha.

Also, sorry for being a pessimistic weirdo. Hey. It happens.

Maybe I’m Just Not Getting Enough Vitamin D…

I’ve hit a wall. The kind of wall that makes me shut people out and sit on my bed listening to Neko Case and reading about morbid things.

I think maybe it’s just that the last couple days have been rotten and the last week has been grueling and the weather is lousy and all I want to do is run.

But…right now I really want to know that somebody out there cares. Even though I am an off-beat, un-hot, reserved geek of a girl. That if something happened to me, there might be somebody there for me close-by. I feel like the underlying point of the last several months has really been: nobody gives a shit. It just keeps coming back. Between YOA and insane events from before even that and random daily encounters I’ve been having, my belief in people is at an all-time low. Even now. I would love for somebody to come along and prove me wrong on this one.

I suppose that crazy INFP characteristic list wasn’t all crap. I guess I really am waiting for a rescuer.

Disturbing Link Alert

As always, Blogger is down or undergoing maintenance whenever I notice something in a previous entry that I desperately need to edit. Pah.

I feel fairly unclever at the moment.

And so I have nothing more to say other than go here. But don’t go to “Malady of the Month” unless you have a strong stomach or really want to have unbelievable nightmares.

Rockin’

listening to: dinosaur jnr – out there

Go Blogger. For actually working. I checked out the Blogger Help boards to see if anyone knew anything of what was going on, but it was only a bunch of people whining. Typical people!

So I lost the part of the last entry which had nothing to do with orchestra. And that was mostly just to respond to some comments from the past couple days. So…

Renata: SHARK FURRY. Superdickery is amazing. Check out the “Weird Science” covers if you haven’t already. And I must say that out-of-context weirdness is the best. I think that’s why I enjoy MST3k so much in both TV and quote form. Also, thank you for the response to the YOA rant thing, and it’s nice to know that other people have had such weirdly polar experiences in their lives, too. Also? I’m kind of addicted to Thinkin Lincoln. It’s kind of your fault.

M.E.D.: On request…hair! I think that may have been too fast.

And…“Did you ever come with me and Michelle in high school when we used to chuck tiny powdered donuts at drunken frat guys?” Seriously?! I never knew about this!! Well, hey. No time like the present, I guess.

And um…I know that the family in Indiana thing probably makes this difficult but… you should totally come to the madrigal alumni thing. Because you + me + Michelle = phenomenal alto power. Also, if we sing Il Et Bel Et Bon again, I would basically die of the ultimate spaz attack, and you so don’t want to miss that.

In other things, somebody lent me the most “you go girl” feminist bullshit book I have ever encountered. It frustates me so much I can’t stop reading it. I’m not even sure why this person thought I would like it. That’s not exactly the type of non-fiction book I would choose to read. But this also happens to be one of those times in which I wonder if maybe it’s necessary to read crap you don’t exactly agree with or enjoy to better strengthen your opinion. This is true for me, at least, since my tendency in life is to approach everything from neutrality. It’s good to find something that makes me get out of my neutral shell and want to throw muck at idiot people.

Students vs. Professionals

Today in conducting seminar, one of the violinists asked Schleicher which was the more difficult ensemble to work with — a student group or a professional orchestra (he also conducts Quad Cities). After a moment of hesitation, he responded by saying that he liked working with UISO for Beethoven, Haydn and Mozart because we’re younger and less biased musically, and thus more open to the possibilities of different interpretations and ideas than the professional orchestral musicians might be. He then said that he enjoyed working with the professional orchestras because they have the chops and experience for bigger repertoire, like Prokofiev, Mahler or Stravinsky. Good points.

Schleicher then went on to say that one thing student orchestras will always have over the professional players is youth. That there is an energy to a group of college students that the professional orchestras simply cannot attain. He mentioned that a former student of his that was at Rice later made it into the Philadelphia Orchestra (or maybe it was Pittsburgh?) and said that there was no comparison between Rice and Philly — Rice was a better orchestra to play in.

From what I understand, Rice is an amazing orchestral school, so of course the symphony orchestra would be comparable to an orchestra of professional stature. But I still worry. That when my school experience is over with, my orchestra experiences will become less energetic and notable, more opinionated (if that is at all possible…), and more political. I worry that it’s the directors, too. I worry that I have been spoiled by a great conductor. I worry that I won’t enjoy orchestra as much after I leave here. And dammit. I love orchestra.

I guess the bottom line is that I still don’t know what I want to do. Some musicians believe they have a calling. Orchestra or chamber music or teaching or solo work, or whatever else. I don’t think I’m one of those people. If there’s one thing I like about myself, it’s that I’m flexible and well-rounded in terms of my experience and what I enjoy. I can derive satisfaction from almost all of what I do musically. I have enjoyed my experience with DS and UISO so very much that for a brief moment in time at the end of last year, I thought orchestral music was my supposed calling. But between my summer experience and thinking about what we talked about in seminar today and my summer-forgotten love of chamber music, I don’t think it has to be. I could still go anywhere. The problem is that I can’t remain neutral and ambivalent about what I want to do forever. Bah.

Also a problem: my hero worship issues. But we’ll get around to that some other time.

Let’s Begin Again, Like Martin Luther Zen

listening to: r.e.m. – begin the begin

Some things in life are not negotiable. And so today I got my hair cut.

In related things, have you had the living daylights freaked out of you about laurel sulfates yet? Yeah, you know. The foaming agents in detergents, soaps, shampoos, toothpaste. Aside from possibly causing bizarre health problems in the world, I’m pretty sure they are the reason my hair has been hating life for the last couple months. A few years ago, I read somewhere about that fact that sulfates may cause damage to hair because of harshness, and held on to that nugget of information for a later date. It wasn’t until somewhere last year that my mother said something with the words “sulfates!” and “carcinogens!” in the same sentence, where I started to worry and read about them (because I’m basically a hypochondriac, word of note). The next time we went to Trader Joe’s, I got some of their sulfate-free, organic, $2 per bottle shampoo. Which is basically awesome. And not $10+.

Except for that period over the summer where I thought “hey, my hair’s in great condition! I think I’ll be an idiot and start using a shampoo that is ridiculously harsh, just because!” And so that’s what I did, for the duration of YOA and before/after. The end result was basically a mass of uneven, dry, split ends. Thus the going “hell with this” and getting it cut. I think it’s finally stuck with me that my hair is fairly susceptible to damage (and by fairly I mean a LOT). And so I have learned my lesson. Lesson: do not sulfate your hair to death, self.

But…wow. Sulfates. Jeeze.

This is why people like me should not be allowed to listen to NPR. Because we get ideas and become paranoid and think we are dying. Sigh.

In non-freaky-health things, here is a list of things that will resume as of today, now that mass/lesson/history crunch time is over:

-running
-proper practicing/better learning how to play with soft hands
-eating properly (instead of people being like “We’re going to Espresso. Want anything?” and I say “no,” but then they come back with something awful and chocolate-inclusive specifically for me and who am I to say no to chocolate? And then I go home and am too tired to make real food)
-continuing the process of becoming a Max-MSP wizard
-being NOT cranky and misanthropic (actually, I was fine over the weekend. Today I have been cranky and misanthropic)

Dammit. I hate it when I let lack of sleep get the better of me, RAAAAAAH TALIA SMASH. I just…bad mood. Yes good fine moving on.

Less Blogging When Tired, Please

listening to: r.e.m. – low

So that whole computer-retrieval plan by Erica fell through. A-gain. The next time I say something like “my sister is coming to visit/whatever,” don’t listen. Apparently I am not only the girl who cried seizure but also the girl who cried sibling.

That’s all I have to report, really. Except that I loathe exams in this history class, if anything just because the study-guides make the exam out to be something it totally isn’t. And then you get your grade back and not only did not fail but did reasonably well, thanks to a curve. It’s a taunting and self-abusing process. But it’s done for the time being, so I can get on with life.

Also, I enjoy the idea of chucking Oreos at politicians. I haven’t been giving the state of Maryland the credit it deserves in the department of Awesome.

Insert Zombie Groans Here

listening to: stereolab – des etoiles electroniques

I am contemplating gouging my eyes out.

Just…don’t even get me started. About this exam. Or this study-guide he gave us. Or how I’m wondering if it’s even worth it.

Psssst. I have to keep updating the internet on the situation: my sister’s going to drop by tomorrow night. Yes, that’s right. She is actually going to stop by my apartment. Be there to witness our insane sibling-ness.

Or…don’t, or whatever. I mean, I’ll be here. Watching MST3k (as I refuse to do anything productive after a night like this). Probably with Kerry. More people are always welcome.

And for the record, anyone awesome is invited to join us in the MST3k-watching, anytime. Open invitation. Tomorrow will just be slightly more interesting than normal.

Yep. I’m pretty hardcore when it comes to proving that my sister actually does exist.

Anyway. Back to thinking about gouging my eyes out.

Quick Apology Wanted

listening to: rob and corey – file under popular #3

This song is 7 minutes of pure Talia. I can’t describe it any other way.

That is all. Sort of. I don’t know. I just open the blogger window compulsively and I never quite remember what happens after that. It’s like a strange disorder. Must…compulsively…enter text!

Also, I have another lesson at 8. And my last one was on Thursday. And this weekend just wants to see me cry.

I Know What You Need

listening to: rasputina – signs of the zodiac

Leading experts agree: Music of the 17th Century will consume your soul.

And so the study cap goes on (as of about 11pm last night), and I cross my fingers and hope for the best.

The Bernstein Mass is this weekend. I have a few complaints (namely the singer with the one calf-skin boot over his pant-leg), but things have been OK for the most part.

My sister is officially lame and not coming down here next weekend. Rather, I am going to meet her at home on Friday since she will be around for Peoria Symphony rehearsals, and hand my old computer off to her. Desperate times call for desperate measures, I guess. I’m leaving some fun stuff on that machine (“that machine.” I sound like my Dad…), most of it musical. Hey. There’s nothing like spreading evil love in the form of music (seriously, though, Rasputina is pretty evil).

Study.

Summer 2006 Rant: A Release

In my resolve to be more open about junk, even in lieu of the internet and the fact that anybody could be reading this (though I suspect only a small handful of people actually do), I think I need to talk about the summer and YOA. I’ve been struggling with wanting to write this since August, so here it is, finally.

I posted once about YOA. I mentioned things. That was about it.

But how did I feel about the four weeks?

I don’t like to complain. Especially about a conceptually very cool program. Spend four weeks touring through Europe with an orchestra of awesome young musicians from North and South America? For FREE?! Rock!

But there were problems. Every program has problems, I know. But the problems I experienced were a new extreme for me with summer programs or school orchestras or anything, really.

Some Problems: Rehearsing. When are we rehearsing? For how long on each piece? Do the winds know when they do or do not need to be there? Are we going to cover all materiel in our rehearsals so we won’t be sight-reading during dress-rehearsals? More importantly, are we going to cover all materiel in our rehearsals without exceeding 8 hours of playing in one day? These were questions that never had definite answers during the four-week period. Aside from that, who on the official staff had actual performing experience and was more familiar the norms and limits of the performing world? Nobody, from what I can see. I was truly frustrated with how liberal the scheduling became after the first week. They would rehearse us for over 9 hours in one day and then give us a random free day the next. Goodbye, productivity. Remember that one time in Italy when we had 9.5 hours of rehearsal scheduled, and that very morning, somebody wrote in “additional Placido Domingo – 2 hour rehearsal” on the schedule and this freaked many people out. Several students actually stood up during rehearsal and told the directors that this was unacceptable, and then the directors told us that if Domingo had said that if we couldn’t rehearse with him that very night, he would not conduct the Verdi Requiem with us in Munich. But later when we were finally in Munich, Domingo gave us a very heart-felt and serious speech telling us we absolutely should not allow ourselves to be abused as musicians. So there was that.

Then there was organization (or lack there-of): getting us through airports on time so people wouldn’t miss flights. Making sure people were fed properly (I’m thinking about the poor vegetarians our entire time in Riva when we were being fed pork and potatoes for every god-damn meal). Making sure people knew where they needed to be and when. Making sure rules were clear so people wouldn’t end up arrested (two! two!). Making sure we had transportation to and from places so 30 of us wouldn’t have to jump a train in Munich at 11:45pm on a Sunday night not exactly sure where we’re going (true story. it sucked). Trying to avoid throwing us huge parties the night before we have to travel starting at 4am. Maybe I’m nitpicky. Maybe I have high expectations. Maybe I shouldn’t care about this right now, 3 months after the fact. But I do. If there had been at least one person in charge who had a clue what they were doing, life might have been slightly easier, and fewer staff members, benefactors and students would have been so angry.

Problems I had in my personal experience of the program: I am an introvert. Duh. I bank on this fact about five times per day. But being an introvert going to school or at an in-residence camp or festival is much different from being an introvert living out of European hotels and traveling with 110 very energetic and mostly extroverted people for four weeks. I should have anticipated this problem. That after two weeks of grueling rehearsals and sleep deprivation that I would have problems remaining cheerful and start to feel paranoid. About the fact that I am kind of weird (its’ true!). About the fact that I was sitting 3rd chair in front of some really fabulous players, many of whom were older than me, and wondering how I made it there. Paranoid that when I finally did let my sarcastic and snark-filled personality into the open, people took it the wrong way.

It seemed like there were three different types of people amidst the craziness. Those types were the concerned people, the whiny people, and the happy people. I seemed to keep ending up around the happy people which…while I don’t necessarily like to call myself unpleasant or morose, I am definitely more temperate. I am not capable of being obliviously happy all the time. And because I was around the happy people so much, I felt like I was only whining when I tried to talk about concerns. I felt that I couldn’t say anything without seeming like a complete kill-joy. And so I shut up and just tried to deal with it. This left me feeling marooned.

There was also an age divide. The younger college students and the older grad-students. I was smack-dab in the middle. This doesn’t bother me. I have friends who are 5 years older than me and five years younger. But there was a weird attitude that I experienced in other people on occasion. I don’t want to go into details of this one, because it involves more specific people, but I just remember the words somebody used to compare one musician only two years younger than himself, while walking with a reasonable group of 1st and 2nd year grad students and then little-old undergraduate me (I got the feeling he wasn’t all too keen on me): “Only an Undergrad, Almost a Masters.” Thanks.

I couldn’t seem to find any other introverts, either. I wanted to make a big sign. “Calling all introverts! Let us join and be not-rowdy!” But try as I might, I couldn’t seem to find them. Everyone had their own happy cliques, and because I am not a clique person and couldn’t seem to find others who shared my introversion or floating tendencies, I felt moderately out of place for a lot of the tour. I basically felt like nobody gave a shit, and when you’re abroad and physically feeling like crap, you really want to know that somebody actually gives a shit about you.

But again, these are trivial problems that I had in my experience of being weird and crazy and not as socially capable as a lot of people in the world. I am honestly more worried about the state of the program. It’s such a unique and beautiful thing, getting up on a stage with people from 21 different countries who don’t all speak the same language and completely blowing the audience out of the water with the music we make, as well as having this opportunity to travel, make music and gain experience to us for free. But when the executive artistic director spends that night that we are stranded in Munich partying with his friends, that bothers me. When half the orchestra is in pain from over-rehearsal and what they do is hire a private message-therapist to “fix us,” that bothers me. When they say “feel lucky because you’re in Europe for free” when we voice our concerns, that bothers me.

From what I understand, one of the YOA benefactors has arranged for 5 representatives of the orchestra from both the U.S. and South America to travel to Washington and try and make something happen. Get some things fixed. That’s how serious the state of things became during the tour. I wish the best for the program and the hardcore students involved who keep returning to the program because of the amazing things that go on within and because they are that dedicated. I wish the best for all my friends from the program. I will help in any way that I can from where I am not. But I will not be returning next year. Not even for another free trip to Europe.

Hell, I’m Tired

listening to: lore fitzgerald sjoberg – the bjork song

I’m talking to my sister via GoogleChat. You have no idea how bizarre this is to me, that I would ever be talking to my sister via online instant messenger. Ever. In history. Seriously. Maybe it’s because THIS IS IN FACT THE 21ST CENTURY. Good lord.

She’s giving me names of people to avoid. How nice of her.

There was originally talk of her driving down to retrieve my old computer for her use, which would have been cool. I really love freaking people out with the existence of my sister, mostly because we look nothing alike and yet sound exactly the same. Never have two people been so different and yet so freakin’ similar. Also, a good many people who have never met her believe she either lives in a Vortex or does not exist at all, and I would like to disprove these things. People don’t even seem to believe in the photos I show them.

Then again, maybe I need to choose less weird photo representation to share:
Erica

I give up on blogging for the night.

Feelings Schmeelings

listening to: pizzicato five – this year’s girl # 2

I have a general rule for myself that I am not allowed near a computer-keyboard if I am cranky or morose or any of those things. I am usually only capable of sticking to this rule 50% of the time. Meh. ‘S my blog.

So, yes, hello. I feel moderately okay this morning. Good for me.

But I have to admit that I am a little frustrated with the self-censoring habit. I don’t think I can say I’ve ever been 100% open and honest about the way I feel in push-button publishing, but what I do know is that since the summer, there’s been some pretty intensive self-censoring going on. I basically feel as though everything that went on over the summer just served to show me that I’m not allowed to have feelings about things, and that I am especially not allowed to talk about those feelings if they are less than happy. YOA, I’m looking at you.

Healthy way of existing? I think not. There’s a part of me that wants to be polite and a people-pleaser and basically not be noticed, but it occasionally does battle with another part of me that badly wants to do something and talk about personal feelings of unhappiness or people being treated unfairly. I think that’s reflected here a little bit. Insert links and silliness here so people won’t notice feelings of dissatisfaction or unhappiness!

I’m honestly kind of an emotional doormat. It seems like I would rather remain completely unnoticed if I think people will be happier/better-off because of it. But I’m one of those ridiculous people who feels better to talk things out. One of the things I value most in both myself and other people is honesty. I don’t hand people bullshit, and I appreciate other people that much more if they don’t hand any to me.

And so I think I should abandon my official Blogging position as emotional doormat. Someone else can have it.

Not posted simply to avoid discussing things I feel I shouldn’t discuss: shrimp on a treadmill?

Talk Of Feelings Not Allowed!

listening to: mogwai – r u still in 2 it

I am frustrated. With myself, mostly. Maybe with other people. I suspect other people just chose the wrong place and time to be present and don’t suspect a thing. Typical.

I realize that for some time, I have been not talking about my honest-to-god feelings here. I used to talk about those all the time, my feelings. What happened?

Late-Night Rambling

listening to: rasputina – wicked dickie

I think I have concluded that this is the greatest song, ever.

In other things, Michelle (you know, the one I’m married to on Facebook) has a blog. Again. For possibly the 5th or 6th time in history.

Also, I redid the right-hand links. Added a person, maybe two.

In other things, I have one comp ticket for the Berstein Mass taking place on Saturday and Sunday. It’s first-come first-served. Would anyone like one? It’s a pretty cool piece. More a novelty than a brilliant work, but fun. I think it would be about 20x more awesome if I could play electric bass instead of cello. But you know. That’s just me. Anyway. Comp ticket. There are like three of you from the area that actually read my blog, so if there are no takers, you all suck. Sort of. Eh. Who am I kidding.

Hello there, I’m rambling.

Ooooh, Bjork, Bjork Were You Brought By The Stork?

listening to: stereolab – refractions in the plastic pulse

Max-MSP class today was a romping good time. Steve made us listen to things he thought were well-crafted (e.g. his favorite music). Much of this included Radiohead, and of course, Bjork.

I had to restrain myself from having the biggest spaz attack in the world today when he started playing Cvalda (one of my favorite songs in existence). Many people can attest to this. Crap, I love that song. And Bjork. I remember when Steve came to my high school orchestra class when I was, oh, in 10th grade, since he and Ms. Ehrlich are good friends. And he made us listen to Joga, and I spazzed out just as much then because I actually knew the song. And you start to wonder. Is time really just circling the drain?

Some interesting things were also discussed, such as composers who let very big aspects of their works be taken care of by orchstrators or assistants (aka slaves!), and yet their names still appear on the cover. I have to admit, I am a do-it-yourself person. It’s probably because of the whole pedagogical approach to playing an instrument. The labor you put into your work or your life will reflect, and also bring you more satisfaction. If you are making other people slave over technicalities in your work, it should be just as much their work as it is yours. I know that the famed names who have lives and fans and have written books don’t have time to sit around and create their own sounds and machines over the weekend, etc, but it is bothersome to think that one person can say “I have an idea. Make this happen,” and then others will carry out the processes of making said idea happen.

It’s funny, because back during high-school when I would occasionally think ridiculous things to myself about how cool it would be to compose film music, I remember thinking about how difficult a job it must be simply because of the orchestration you must have to deal with, not realizing that — hey. A lot of film composers don’t even touch that crap. It makes you wonder. Who is the real genius behind some of the things you hear in movies?

You know, our society is so much about instagratificationion, sometimes it scares me.

In ridiculous things (you know, I’m a girl, so this inevitableble anyway), I think I should have you all know that as of today, my hair has made a return to its natural state of wavy. Seriously. This wouldn’t be a big deal except it’s been something like…I don’t know. 17 or 18 years since it’s been this wavy. I’ve only seen pictures of myself on some beach in Michigan when I was three years old that it was this curly, and I’m pretty sure that was the period in my life that inspired my sister to call me “Goldie Locks” to try to prove a point that I didn’t look like anyone else in our family and that I was probably “adopted” (hey, I had a habit of biting her when I was 2 and 3, so I guess she was allowed to tell me whatever she wants for payback).

It’s mostly just insane because all I have to do for my hair to be wavy is — NOTHING. Just let it dry without touching or brushing it. And it’s taken me this long to realize this. I grew up with my mother telling me my hair would be ratty if I didn’t brush it when it was wet. Wrong, mother. I like this better because my hair feels and looks healthier. And none of those random freaking kinks. I’m sorry, but you just don’t know how much trouble my hair has been giving me for the last…decade.

So anyway.

Yeeeeah, I’m taking reading to rehearsal tonight. Why? One word: tacet.

Reason No. 35098 Am Moron

listening to: voltaire – god thinks

Maybe it’s because I’m ten (and a moron), but I found this far too amusing for my own good.

Kerry: if you were a furry, what would your animal be
Talia: um…i like foxes, but i hate furries
Talia: so i don’t know
Talia: you?
Kerry: hm
Talia: trtyuhgftry7uihjgfrty67uihjgfdrtyuhgvcxfthjbbv ,.
Kerry: everyone says some type of big cat cause they’re all lean and muscular and stealthy
Talia: wtf?
Talia: i was wiping off my keyboard and accidentally pressed “enter”
Talia: sorry about that, meant to get out of aim window first
Kerry: hahaha
Talia: i’m lame
Kerry: i was honestly like “oh god she’s having a seizure”
Kerry: i’d be a tapir or some unsexy animal
Talia: ah, yeah
Talia: i’m glad to know that i can freak you out by pretending to have a seizure, though
Talia: asdfpodiubv;aerltkjgadf;glkjafdga’d
Kerry: don’t be the girl who cried seizure now

I can’t remember why we were talking about furries. I hate furries.

Also, for the record, my name doesn’t have an H in it. Seriously.

Or does it? “HTalia!”

*edit*

Dear Warren Ellis: I’m sorry I forgot about your blog when you abandoned Die Puny Humans.

Yours, Talia

P.S. I loooove you.

These Are Things That I’m Gonna Do…

listening to: rasputina – things i’m gonna do

It seems people are concerned for my health and well-being after this parrot-bite incident. I will let you know that I am fine and it’s now just a little scratch, thanks to Vitamin E.

It frustrates me that someone who claims to be so politically left-wing could be so…uneconomical as well as unhealthy in terms of how they live their life. I will say no more.

I had a fairly awesome bass lesson today. After a month of playing the double bass, I can honestly say that the hardest part for me is actually figuring out how to position and hold the bass. It’s such an awkward and clunky…thing. I whacked it in three different parts of a door-frame just while I was trying to enter a practice-room today. But honestly, I’m enjoying it. A much better alternative to group piano, especially if you’ve already taken two semester but they didn’t transfer over.

It rained for most of the day and we rehearsed Bernstein for 3 hours. Or rather, some of us sat there tacet for 1.5 hours while somebody else rehearsed and played for the rest of the time. And now I’m very tired.

November is fast approaching, and I’m starting to wonder if maybe I should give NaNoWriMo another whirl. I’ve never won, or even gotten to the halfway mark (25,000 words). ’03 was fun (15,000 words), ’04 was a cool story idea that never made it off the ground, and ’05 was nonexistent. I think I know how to pace myself if I want to at least come somewhere close to the goal, and I miss writing non-blog materiel. Should I go for it?

Not like I have a story idea yet. Not that I ever do at this point before the start of NaNoWriMo. Not that it really matters.

Off to crunch some baroque history and then hit the sack. It’s only 8:50 and I am contemplating doing nothing and going to bed. Bad sign.

Uncanny

listening to: buffalo daughter – big wednesday

I’ve just gotta say…

…that I am sufficiently weirded out by how much my mom looks like Sofia Gubaidulina.

And where do I fit in to my family?! I am the walking recessive gene.

Good news: exam in Hill’s class next MONDAY! Phew! Bad news: it’s still going to suck trying to study for this piece of crap exam. News that isn’t really news because you already knew it: I’m a moron!

Kerry & Talia: Surfin’ The Highway

listening to: porno graffitti – go steady go!

Dear this song: SHUT UP.

listening to: r.e.m. – so. central rain

Aaaah, that’s better. It is pertinent that I purge my music collection of some remaining crap.

The weekend has been awesome. About 50% less productive than I would have liked for it to be, but you know. I’ve dug my own hole. I know this in advance and should everything go to hell, I will embrace the fact that it was basically my fault. And possibly bitch, just a little (you have been warned).

This weekend could have been dubbed “Kerry & Talia Hit The Road” (except wouldn’t it be that much better if Kerry was really a talking dog called Sam and I was a deranged side-kick rabbit named Max, and together we had wacky adventures? That would be awesome. Yes yes!). Today we embarked on another sporadic road-trip (on very short notice), and this one involving Trader Joe’s. Good god, I love Trader Joe’s.

So that’s great and lovely and all, and I am now more than equipped to handle a very crazy week of school, and now have GUACAMOLE TORTILLA CHIPS, which I’m pretty sure are the most amazing thing I have ever eaten, combined with some insanely hot Frontera chipotle salsa that I’ve been using to ward off a sore throat for a while.

But this upcoming week is basically hell week. I have another exam in Hill’s class on Friday, and you know, I will forevermore associate that class with self-abuse. So there’s that. But then there’s the Berstein Mass. A 3 hour rehearsal every day. Shit. So anyway. I might be F-U-K-T. But we’ll see. It’s all in my head. I hope. I had wanted to run a 5k next Sunday, but I am never one for straining myself physically after a week involving too much rehearsing and very little sleep. So it’s doubtful.

Whooo, boy, I’ve rediscovered my love for Alex Budovsky’s animations. I originally discovered the video Bathtime in Clerkenwell in all its bizarreness at some point last year through Rocketboom, based on the song by The Real Tuesday Weld. In the last few days, I’ve been obsessively watching Terminally Ambivalent Over You. But as of today, I am secretly very much in love with Jukebox, song and art by Jim Avignon (or Neoangin, who I can’t find very much information on via Google. Boohoo). Just…why? It’s so not even very good (I mean, the song), but I like it so much. Is there something wrong with me?

I love the slight choppiness of the animation. Maybe there’s something a little less perfect and more primitive about it. I don’t know. Don’t pay any attention to the crazy girl with the blog.

*edit* Whoa. Speaking of bizarre animations… (via jkottke)