Who Do You Think They’ll Believe, The Girl In The Tub Or The Guy With His Pants Down?

I’m a little uncomfortable quoting myself in general, but this statement –taken from archives somewhere else on the internet– just does it for me. That’s what she said.

Right now I feel kind of like Madeline Kahn’s character in What’s Up Doc? after she is basically bitch-slapped by the loose-screw of a woman played by Barbra Streisand (who is pretending to be Madeline Kahn’s character) at the American Society of Musicologists banquet when Ryan O’Neal (who is waaaay too hot to be completely convincing as a musicologist from Ames, Iowa) says he doesn’t know who she is when she is in fact his fiancĂ©e. Zing! And then Madeline Kahn goes up to her room, sits in bed, wears an ice-pack on her forehead and reads The Sensuous Woman while making disgruntled noises, before leaving Ryan O’Neal’s bag of igneous rocks (which he is using to prove that primitive man made music with rocks) in front of his hotel-room door without even knocking. Except that the bag of supposed igneous rocks really has some old lady’s stolen jewels in it, but THAT is another story for another time.

So, I feel like her. Except for the part where, hey, I totally don’t.

Aaah, yes. Best movie ever.

Now I am off to hopefully sleep for another hour or two, and then hit the road with Dan Beahm and the Invisible Three.

Best Story Ever: Below

listening to: beastie boys – root down

Blarrn (refer to time-stamp)!!!

It must be a summer thing that one night per week I somehow manage to evade sleep, for the most part. Which is kind of le suck. I think it has something to do with what I ate, this time around. Which is completely my fault. Yesterday, out of desperation and hunger and nothing else to eat in my apartment, I made pizza. And it was okay pizza. Not great. The dough was a week old, and had been in my freezer, and just…well…I think it needed to be transferred out into my freezer a day or two sooner, as well as thawed more slowly over the course of a day. Huh. And then it’s also my fault that I let people cajole me into going to steak’n’shake, and I went “what the hell” and got a milk-shake.

Okay, seriously. I think I can now acknowledge my eating limitations now that I’ve spent a few weeks doing the strict natural diet thing. Because every time I eat sugar or even relative amounts of greasy things since then, I feel so crappy afterwards. SO crappy. My stomach really seems opposed to putting certain things in it, whereas before I was very much a human garbage-pail of sorts. I’m not opposed to splurging every now and then (in fact, I think it’s good to splurge). But I have to realize that when I do, the outcome is going to be a little more dramatic to my stomach than it used to be. Bleh.

So anyway. Now I don’t feel like eating anything, ever again. And I know that in five or so hours, I’ll be hungry. But even six hours after the fact, my final words on the matter are: bleh. Now I’m just thirsty. So so thirsty. I wonder if maybe I just haven’t been drinking enough water, especially since running has been taking place in 80 degrees of hellish sunshine. I hate summer.

God. It’s 5:30am. I apologize for typing. Now or ever.

Last night I discovered that I am not better at real-life bowling than I am at Wii-sports bowling. Vee, Janet and Eric did their utmost not to be make fun of me. Except for the part where that’s kind of a lie and I want to beat up Veeshal, just a little.

Also, here is the Most Awkward Story Ever. Read at your own risk:

Veeshal, Janet, Eric and I met at the music building and proceeded to walk to the union. While we were walking past the pizza place next to the music building, I was mentioning to Eric how my messenger bag was kind of big and ugly, and Eric informed me of how offended he was of my big and ugly bag. My very loud response to this was “Yeah, let’s hope I’m not caught by the big-and-ugly police,” said right as we were walking past this outdoor-seated table of three, one of the seated-people being kind of on the bigger side. I didn’t even realize what was going on until this guy looked right at us and said “Oh, no. So they’re sending out the police for me now?!” clearly in a friendly/funny sort of manner. But this did not stop us from walking away very fast and trying not to laugh too hard.

The moral of the story is that I should not talk in public. Ever.

What Ho!

listening to: beck – tropicalia

I need to blog.

Like, just need to make myself physically make myself (er, I mean, physical in the “click on this link” sense) open a window and type.

It’s not that I don’t like blogging anymore. Oh, no. I’m itching to write things and satisfy my push-button publishing needs. It’s just that it’s been so long since I’ve been able to do so regularly and comfortably that I’ve forgotten how. TSK!

This happens to be me in everything, though. If I get bored and stop doing something regular (like reading or practicing), it’s very difficult for me to shake boredom and get back into the swing of stuff.

Uh…anyway.

God dammit. I love Buffy. It’s so…good. And yet not-good. Seriously, the awesome thing about subjecting myself to more B-movies than I am comfortable admitting would be that it has scaled down my expectations. Not in a bad “I am going to watch shit reality tv” sort of way. But if things are a little corny and monster-y, I can not only handle it but will probably be enthralled. I guess it helps if you like stupid sci-fi and monster stuff, too. Also, show doesn’t love Joss Whedon?

What kind of a girl am I?

Anyway.

I am excited to hit the road tomorrow with Dan Beahm and the Invisible Three. We’re only playing in Anderson, but the show promises to be good and not problematic in terms of sound-production and also maybe have PEOPLE!! People I know! Also, there is now an accordion in the line-up.

That is all for now.

Blood Rushing From Face

Oh my god.

Remembering how I’m watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and how I just got into season 2, and how “Cibo Matto showed up at the Bronze” and everyone’s like “Oh my god, Cibo Matto?!”??!

See, this is what happens when I like bands who tend to have been broken up for a while. I hear a mention or a reference and I die. I mean, almost die.

Also, best blog ever.

Also, CIBO MATTO!!!!!!!

Stuff And Junk, Infinity

It seems I need to have my status of “queen of blogging” revoked. DEMERIT!

Um…let’s see…things that have been going on…

I gave another recital! That was…something. Good, I guess. If anything, the actual performing part keeps getting easier, which is totally good news. Also, I sent hand-mailed invitations to a huge list of people I knew from kind of everywhere, and while the turn-out wasn’t huge, I saw some people it was REALLY nice to see (read: the entire family whose horse-farm I used to work on from the ages of about 9-14). But again, half the people who said they would show up did not, and while I totally understand stuff like that and am never mad at individuals, it always sucks to realize that half the people you were expecting don’t show up. In the end, though, I was prepared for it and REALLY happy about the people who DID show up. Whoopee.

Also, in case you want in on the status of what I’ve been eating…I did not eat wheat, refined sugar (except for once and quite mindlessly) or dairy for nearly three weeks (and I’ve noticed that when I say I’m not eating wheat, people assume I’m crazy and going to kill myself because I’m missing out on important grains. NEWS FLASH: I’m still eating other grains, and while wheat is ubiquitous, oats and brown rice and quinoa are more nutritious). I felt AWESOME. And I shed a few lbs. And it really became pretty easy, after a while. To just make a creative salad and cook some form of meat in an appealing way. And then we started making baked goods for my recital. And…okay, I must have eaten like…10 chocolate chip cookies on Saturday, in a very short span of time, and my stomach almost lost it. I felt so gross and unwell afterwards, just because I wasn’t accustomed to all the sugar and junk, it was ridiculous. So anyway. I may go back to eating wheat (because, you know, it’s ubiquitous and occasionally oh-so good) and dairy. But…I think the sugar will stay moderate. I like feeling healthy.

Sadly, feeling healthy somehow coincided with hurting my left leg and being unable to run for two weeks. Lame. Quite literally. And now my lame-ness has subsided and it’s raining. Oh, timing.

Also, my hair bothers me. But what else is new? I do have a kind of Dana Scully look going on, though, which makes me a little happy.

In general, I am at peace, which is a nice change from the last couple of weeks of being very bored and not knowing what to do with myself.

Tonight I head back to Champaign and prepare to hit the road with Dan Beahm and the Invisible Three. WOO HOO.

Also, please behold this photo.

Cranky!

listening to: cornelius – watadori 2

It makes me cranky when a) I can’t sleep. And sit on my bed playing with my laptop at insane hours of the morning. Around 5:30am, I discovered that Automator is a pretty damn cool application. This discovery did not deter in my feeling really damn cranky this morning.

Oh, right, and b) people point to things for me to see on the computer-screen with their FINGERS TOUCHING THE SCREEN. First of all, I can’t see what you’re pointing to when your finger covers it and second of all FINGERPRINTS. But I guess if that’s my biggest complaint in terms of sharing a computer for internet-use with my family, what the hell am I complaining about?

So mostly I’m cranky because I miss sleep.

There was something else. Who cares.

A Doozy

listening to: ancient greeks – center

Meh.

I was in the most amazingly good mood for approximately 24 hours. Sadly, I’ve settled back into cranky.

I’m really not allowed to be cranky, though. Especially considering the other people in my household and how they’re the ones with the right to be cranky. My poor mom. This really sucks =/

I was thinking about it, and this past year sucked. Ass. It sucked ass. The previous school-year was insane, but there were some intense highs and really great moments. I feel like this year was disappointment after disappointment, in some ways. Maybe I should say last semester, to be more exact. I feel a lot right now like I did when I got back from YOA. Questioning myself as a musician and a student and really just a human being.

And I’ve turned people-needy. God. That sucks. I was doing so well. Suddenly it seems that I just need to know that people care. Somebody — anybody! And the especially crappy thing about this is that I also happen to be the one who pushed a lot of people away earlier. Oops. Why do I do that? I always seem to do that. It’s like…I get really misanthropic and I just want everyone to go away. And then later I emerge from that misanthropic state to find that nobody is around, and duh they’re not around, because I pushed them away, but of course then I need somebody. And where is somebody?

But it’s also crappy of me to expect people to care when people have lives and are trying to do things like work and move and make money. Just to care, for the hell of it. Just because I exist. That’s not right.

I mean, I know people care. It’s just hard when they’re…not…around to care.

I don’t know what I’m trying to say.

I think sort of miss having a “best friend.” Or just one or two people close-by who I know I can trust and talk to. Everybody’s fled the vicinity and ended up really far away or just up and left. Or I feel like I’ve offended everybody in some way that I can’t quite figure out and have no right to…anything.

I think the bottom line is that I just kind of need somebody right now.

Wow. I’ve been needing to get that out for…a while.

Also, I got my hair cut, if you’ll recall. You can find some photos here.

I’m going to go try and re-convince myself that books are better than people and locations are not important at all.

Everything Is Catching On…Fire!

listening to: mouse on mars – send me shivers

Question: Why am I dumb?!

Statement: WHAT THE CRAP! My mother broke her leg!!

Yeah, that’s right. My weird childhood dreams of my entire family falling apart before my very eyes is coming true.

Well, not exactly. It’s a very small, minute break, apparently. I mean, it totally still sucks, though. Especially because my parents are leaving for a vacation in Italy in July. This all happened yesterday, so we don’t know the status of healing-time, etc. All shall be solved by tomorrow.

So, something I never thought of before in regards to breaking one’s foot: if you break your left foot, forget being able to drive stick-shift. But then again, if you break your right foot, forget being able to drive, period. My mother has the first problem, currently.

Anyway.

Wow. Last night DBI3 played at the Canopy Club and…wow. First of all, I somehow missed the memo that the shows were all pushed back time-wise, and got there incredibly early. So early that the show in the main theater area (Monte Montgomery) was still playing, and if I wasn’t confused enough when I walked in, the first person I saw standing there were two parents of class-mates from like…kindergarten+. It was ridiculous and so random and funny. So I guess I’m glad I got there early. But anyway. You know what sucks? Having four bands “headline” for Casados and then everybody clearing out before Casados so that Daniel, Dave and I (plus two other people from a previous band) basically had a show played to us, privately. It was kind of fun, considering the over-mic conversations that were going, but…seriously! It sucks that everyone flew the coup. Aren’t musicians supposed to support eachother?! And stuff?!

Also, elaborate set-ups are…bleh. Playing a somewhat huge instrument as the cello and having played electric bass and dealing with an amplifier the size of a dog-house, I really appreciate compact-ness. The ability to jump on-stage and then jump right off. Especially if you’re only playing 30 minutes. Having tables full of electronic equipment and things that must be plugged in is great if a) it’s worth the time you’ll be spending on-stage actually performing and b) if you um don’t suck. I don’t know. I love electronic crap. I loved gadgets and effects. But…well, yes. You get my gist.

I’m looking at pictures of baked goods on Flickr again. This can’t be a good thing.

So I’ve just gotta say. I really don’t like my hair this short. Honestly, I either wish it were shorter (especially in the back) and very layered or just…shoulder-length. Or, to be honest, the length is okay, but just…not for someone with hair like mine. Hair that likes to curl but only in big loose curls that require length. Glah.

Stuff and junk.

Huzzah I Think?

listening to: the beatles – i’m only sleeping

I survived the Thai Gravy incident of 2007!

Uheh, yeah. Of the things I learned today, one of them would happen to be: watch out when you order Lad Nar, can’t finish it, get a take-home box and then dump most of the liquidy contents of said Lad Nar into box and then try to move places and do things. The results could be gravy-fying. Or something. I don’ tknow.

Hmm. Yeah. So I feel a lot better after ranting that crap. I’ve also been thinking about the whole “not wanting to play for people unless they care” thing and…bah. Apparently I’m just whiny and attention-needy. But at the same time, there is something about this whole “everybody’s losing interest in live performance of the classical tradition” stuff. It’s really true. There are so many bells and whistles in other mediums of performance that there just aren’t in the area of performance where I am proficient. Classical performance needs help. I am certain of that.

I think my mom and I should go into marketing. Or like my entire family. Because think of the witty and/or dry possibilities. Also, the puns. I love me some good puns.

But anyway. I feel way better now that I’ve ranted. If anything, this recital is totally the only way I’m keeping up practicing before Heifetz. Because…god. Yeah. Let’s not talk about Heifetz right now.

So…I got my hair cut. And…yeah. I think I found my short-ness threshold. Because…yeah. The thing about my hair is that it’s very light and fine, and its natural curls are really big and loose. And so at this length, it’s just chunky. Even though having this little hair is very airy and pleasant and I was in and out of the shower today in FIVE MINUTES. That’s amazing, for me.

But whatever. The beauty of hair is that it grows.

Hah, so Last.fm now has a playlist that you can embed into any web-page to play full-length tracks. And I am so amused by some things, such as the fact that there are some ridiculous tracks available. Such as Steve Reich’s FOUR ORGANS. Just…yeah. Why? Why not, I guess. What’s that? I can plague random internet surfers with minimalist insanity? Where do I sign up?

Dan Beahm and the Invisible Three, tonight at the Canopy Club. Huzzah, I think!

It’s Called Being Hard On Oneself And I Do It Well

listening to: matt haimovitz – romainian folk-dances

GOD. FUCKING FRENCH COMPOSERS.

Yeah.

I’m going to skip straight to the whiny-ness.

So, I’m giving this second recital. Which I mentioned. And…WHY BOTHER?! Seriously. What is my problem? It’s like…the ONLY reason I have to do this is to keep repertoire in good shape and give myself another chance to perform.

But…what’s the use of performing if nobody’s there to hear it?

Okay. I don’t want to bitch about this, but I’m going to do it, anyway. I was pissed off after my last recital because HALF of the people who said they would be there weren’t. And of course I was happy for the people who were there, and I tried to be a real diplomat. A real positive-outlook type person about the matter. That it didn’t matter who wasn’t there based on who WAS there. But it still got me in the end. And for some reason I took it more personally than I should have. Maybe because this entire past 12 months has been ridiculous and frustrating and made me lose my faith and trust in people. Who cares? Nobody. I’ve never felt like that after a recital before, regardless of people showing up or not. I somehow managed to put myself in a really difficult position.

Part of it is me. Yes, I want to know that people care about me and the things I do. But part of it is performance in general. Why am I doing this if nobody gives a shit? How am I supposed to make a living off a medium that even other performers don’t care about? I know it’s not as simple as that. It’s like Schleicher says, you need to get out and get the audience. They aren’t just going to come to you, in this day and age of shiny things and internet and instant gratification in almost all manners.

But you know what? When it comes down to it, it’s hard to want to put forth energy into something nobody else takes interest in. But I no longer have this choice. I’ve sent out invitations. I need to go out there and give my all, even if there are only three people in the audience. Even if my DAD isn’t going to be there (because he’s not). It’s not like it’s everybody else’s fault for all having lives and being busy and doing things but…

I don’t know. Now I just feel selfish and whiny. I know people take an interest. I’m just being excessively hard on myself.

This is why I don’t like performance. I just don’t. I feel like I’m not cut out for it. I don’t like putting myself on that pedestal. I don’t like trying to be an extrovert. I don’t like sharing, even. Why am I doing this? What else could I do instead? Who can I talk to about this, as every other freaking person in my immediate family and every one of my teachers is a performer. What can I do before I go off and get another degree for something which I’m not sure I enjoy or want to put myself into? What do I do?

(note: I asked that to Kyra today, and she told me I should be a conductor. HA NOT FUNNY)

Wow, sorry. That’s been lying around in my brain for a while now, and it all just sort of put itself out there.

What I do now is practice hard and play for the three people in the audience and really love the fact that three people showed up in the first place. And eat cookies with them (because I’m totally eating sugar and crap by that point).

Then I keep practicing hard and go to Heifetz and observe to see if I slowly turn into little miss grumps-a-lot, or if I do okay and enjoy music, and then figure things out.

Most of all, though, I need to really get myself to understand that people do care. Not about my playing or my attentiveness as a musician or whatever. But that they care about my well-being and my happiness. They do, I know. It’s just…I really don’t think I believe anybody does, after the last 12 or so months. So…they do.

…Right?

I’m going to go watch The Office season finale ending maybe 5 more times, because THAT will be the thing to make me feel better right now. For serious. Oh my god. Asdf;ljk.

Holy Crap On Mom’s SHOOOES!

Status on season finale of The Office: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Status on my new hair-cut:
Holy God, It’s short!

Status of my brain after The Office: FUCCCKK AAAAAAHHHHHHHH.

Carry on.

I’d Let The Question Take My Hand

listening to: stuart davis – original face

Hoooo!

Alright. I haven’t been blogging. But you know, you gotta be in the mood, and for the past week I definitely haven’t been.

How do I describe the past week? I won’t. Because that would involve detailing my curmudgeonly whining, and who needs that. Sigh. Yeah. I know nobody cares what I say here, but you know. Basically it comes down to the fact that I get restless when I have nothing to do, and that teemed with the fact that I’ve kind of lost my faith in…people. People. They suck. Once upon a time, I accepted this unconditionally, but for some reason now I’m being scathing and bitchy and taking it personally. Don’t know what happened there.

But! I’ve found ways of dealing with my grumpiness through the following:
1) Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I know I swore I would never watch it, and I know it isn’t the sort of TV that I tend to watch, but that Joss Whedon. That guy. He gets me, on some basic TV-watching, morbid-loving level. Oh, and also, Sarah Vowell made me do it. Her essay on Giles’s nerd-isms versus Willow’s nerd-isms and how they both relate to Al Gore made me gravitate this way. Also, The Office is destroying me slowly from the inside. I needed something to help with the pain.

2) Neal Stephenson. Yeah. Oooh yeah, in fact. Reading in general. I consumed Sarah Vowell’s Partly Cloudy Patriot within 24 hours. It was basically as though I rediscovered my powers of literacy, with things that had nothing to do with Renaissance music. The only thing to do after that point was jump right into 1,000+ pages with Neal Stephenson. Oooh yeah.

And speaking of people named Neal who I love who write books…that is the prettiest freaking dog I have ever seen.

In recent news, I’m giving another recital. Yeah. That seemed like a great idea until right up around the time the last recital finished. I mean, I’m sure it’ll be great. If people come. And even if people don’t come, THERE’LL BE COOKIES!!!! And I love cookies. And I think if people don’t come, it just means more for me*.

Also, I need to perform more. Whether I like having to send out invitations and feel hopeful that people will come or not.

But anyway. I’m trying to find a way to make the invitations interesting. And first I went from thinking about this photo of the cellist on the mountain. AND THEN I WENT TO THINKING I NEEDED TO FIND A SCREEN-CAP OF THAT JAMES BOND MOVIE WHERE THEY SLED DOWN A MOUNTAIN IN A CELLO CASE. And then I couldn’t find a very good one online, so I gave up and decided to just go with previously mentioned mountain-dude and maybe a good cello-joke.

Yeeep.

*sucks, because I’m still not eating wheat or sugar. But by then I probably will be, so whatever.

Not A Mormon!!

I went out to dinner with my parents and one of their grad students last night. And my Dad called me “a mormon in a former life” just because I didn’t order wine (the truth of the matter is that a) I didn’t have my I.D. and b) I am more of a beer person).

I was entertained.

But also kind of frowly. Because dammit, I was NOT a mormon! Ever! Even in a former life…!

Or was I…?

Stuff has been happening. Or has it? Not really. I’ve been reading a lot and practicing a lot and basking in the fact that at home, there is no construction next to my window to wake me up at 5:30am.

I started some entry a few days ago. It is saved. I’ll have to investigate.

Worry?

Oohhhh Godddd.

For the last two hours, my brain has been completely refusing to take in any new information. BUT THERE’S STILL SO MUCH TO KNOOOOW.

Oh well.

I’m mostly just worried because the only two grades in this class have been the mid-term and…this exam. So…yeah. This could suck. Worry. Worry worry worry. Kind of.

Up And At ‘Em

Better than when some composer murders his wife at the Mantua court (Tromboncino) is when some composer murders both his wife and her aristocratic lover (Gesualdo).

Oh Blogger. Sometimes you’re even a study aid. I love that about you. Sort of.

Officially A Wimp

That’s it. After a night of running around campus and running around my apartment and studying and maybe covering over 80% of the material and absorbing probably about 50% of that, I give up. I am going to bed.

Seriously. This is coming from the girl who fucking came back from a week in Germany and wrote a 6-page paper over a book she hadn’t read and got a whole 2 hours of sleep dealing with the jet-lag thing and then proceeding into the next day with putting music-bullies in their places and somehow managed a B on that paper.

I just…I want sleep. It’s hard when there is construction right outside your window at 5:30am, WTF.

But whatever. I have until 7pm to study, so, stuff. Also, apathy.

Insert Completely With-It Entry Title Here

listening to: brian eno – king’s lead hat

*edit* Tried to post this earlier but the internet hated me.

Well this is a fine how-do-you-do from my body. I’m sick. AGAIN. No wonder I’ve been feeling like complete ass the last couple of days, wheat-y sugary diet aside. Even though I have to admit that I’m comforted to know that the nonchalant manner in which I’ve been eating isn’t the complete cause for the way I’ve been feeling, this sucks.

I have similar symptoms to the last time I was sick, hardly a month ago. And so I worry that this is a sinus infection revisited. Which is totally not something I need finals/quartet recital week.

Oh, hey, yeah. My quartet’s giving a recital on Thursday, 7:30 in Smith Recital Hall (God help our articulations). Which will be fun. I guess. I hate my body. What? Yeah. Fun quartet recital.

Yeah. So the last three days have been spent in a somewhat not-awesome state. I was going to drop home on Saturday, but it ended up never happening for various reasons. I slept and watched the Office and studied and generally felt not-awesome instead.

In related things, I’ve actually been really good about the things I’m eating. Yesterday, I managed to avoid all wheat, dairy and refined sugar once again. Today so far has been much the same. Although it’s true that on Friday I had a soft-boiled egg on a toasted English Muffin, in addition to the amazingly starchy food they fed us at this gig (which, btw, MOST RIDICULOUS $200 EARNED, EVER). Which…well…yeah. You can’t expect me to just go cold turkey into this thing. Not eating wheat-based products is SO HARD.

What I have been eating: tons of raw fruits and vegetables, oatmeal (my one true love), rice-cakes, a crap-load of water, and also the most amazing curry dish, made last night (that doesn’t actually contain curry). Also white rice. Which I didn’t realize is probably not the best of grains as there are many more nutrition grains, such as brown rice or wild rice, or even some zany grain like quinoa (so crazy). But anyway. As you can see, I’ve been making an effort. And it’s gotten easier in the last day or so.

Still, though, I’m really alarmed at the amount of time I’ve been spending look at particular Flickr groups. Hmmm.

But anyway. As I think I said before, this is the worst week in the world to expect to continue eating in such a careful manner. Also, I don’t know if I can emotionally or physically survive without some form of wheat or dairy through all the crap that is yet to come. And so to treat myself on the off-chance that I make it until Thursday (or actually, regardless of whether or not I make it to Thursday), I am going to make pizza. Thursday. Seriously. Pizza. Also, seriously, I would rather eat more healthfully in general but occasional treat myself than be so rigid that I can’t make…pizza…mmm…

Oh. And in case you’re wondering, studying for Music of the Renaissance is complete HELL. Thanks much.

Until Tomorrow

listening to: bonnie pink – run with yourself

Done with classes!!! Somebody give me a cookie.

Except, seriously, don’t.

I’ve realized that my recent continual span of moodiness, pessimism, lack of energy and lethargy may in fact be directly related to the fact that for the past few weeks what I’ve been eating is…not so awesome. It’s as though at some point, the will to coordinate well-balanced things with sizeable portions went out the window. And also this tendency to mindlessly eat bread and dairy products with a reasonable side of sugar. Bad news.

I honestly haven’t been cooking much lately, either (and by “cooking” I certainly do NOT mean “baking things at late hours in order to avoid doing real work). And believe it or not, the “mom” in me generally always guilts/prods me into cooking things that have nutritional value. Yep. Totally out the window. Maybe it happened when I was trying to ignore everything before my recital. That’s a real possibility.

But regardless, the waking up to gunk in the back of my throat and feeling vaguely of death yesterday was the straw that broke my camel’s back.

Today I decided to be insane and ate nothing but raw veggies and fruit (and some oatmeal, but you know…). No wheat. No dairy. Only natural sugars that exist in those fruits and vegetables. I think this is officially some form of the “detox diet” (although I know that there’s another detox diet that involves basically drinking mostly tea and hot water, and I have this problem where I love eating, and am not really into the idea of rapidly losing weight because I’m kind of a hypochondriac and would start to think I’m dying or something). My sister did this for a month a couple summers ago, and I think she almost went crazy for a while. Which is a totally understandable reaction because OH MY GOD I WANT MEXICAN HOT CHOCOLATE or possibly just some of the Kashi cereal boxed on my fridge. Sooo difficult.

Safe to say, it’s not exactly pleasing or practical to keep this up during this particular time of the year (just because of spending time with people and inevitably eating out and junk, and also because in my experience, final exams usually double my need for chocolate). Maybe later in the dead of summer or something. I think this might just be a one-day thing to try and do damage-control. While I realize I won’t see any dynamic effect from a single day of eating only raw stuff, I think it was a pretty okay thing to do to get ahold of myself, and maybe give my body at least a small break from the crap-food. I definitely plan on eating wheat-related things again tomorrow, but I really hope to add it to this whole natural food thing in moderation, and not pretty much just eat bread-related things all day long. I’ve learned my lesson. I think.

I still say this is all my mother’s fault, though.

So yeah, what a crap day to discover this group on Flickr: Innards. Why me?

Oh, so, right. We hard our last UISO concert last night. Rock. We faked out the audience during the Haydn not once, but twice. There is a grand pause which we treated as an ending, and everyone applauded, and then we came back in. And then we went on and did it a second time. I almost expected that when we got to the actual end of the piece, the audience would fold their arms and shoot us glares that said something like “fool me once, strike one…fool me twice…strike three.” I was trying my extreme hardest not to crack up on-stage. Mahler was awesome, too. And it turns out that next year we’re going to fricking L.A. FRICKING L.A.!!!!

Sigh. I don’t know what I’m going to do without the hero-worshiping for 3 months, though.

Also, tonight’s episode of The Office was…so…bad..and good…and awkward. I love the awkward.

Tomorrow I finish paper-work (for serious) and make $200 and bask in stuff and junk.

P-Poo

listening to: bonnie pink – orange (towa tei remix)

I feel like p-poo.

And I know exactly why. Tragically, it’s all because I’ve been eating basically nothing that isn’t wheat, sugar and dairy in the last three days, in my fit of stress and bummed-outed-ness.

Damn my mother for being right about these things.

So yeah. I have all this glop in the back of my throat, in addition to basically just feeling like ick. I guess the whole “I did not sleep due to string pedagogy” does not help. But aside from that, my stomach hates everything I put into it. Not to the point where I’m nauseous or anything like that, but to the where eating anything seems like a bad idea.

I guess that means no more completely spontaneous trips to Great Harvest. And also, no more baking stuff to procrastinate. Damn me.

And the problem is that I now want to do one of those cleansing pallet things and eat nothing but greens and protein-filled things and drink water for several days, but it’s difficult when I need to go food-shopping but also play an orchestra concert (KRANNERT. 7:30.) and generally may not have all the proper foods in my fridge to pull this off.

Oh well. It can wait a day.

Also discouraging for my eating habits right now: The 10 Most Difficult Foods to Digest. Wow. So, let’s see: spicy foods, chocolate, citrus things, mashed potatoes, and beans, huh. That’s awesome. And I give up.

I’m off to face my orchestral doom for the day. Except it really isn’t doom. I got 4 hours of sleep last night. Yeehaw.

Same Old Drill

Blargh. I hate string pedagogy. I also hate the construction at 7am next door, even though I was up at something like 6:30.

Grumble mutter frowl.

Come to our UISymphony concert tonight. 7:30. Krannert FGH. Mahler 1 and Haydn 90. Total awesomeness. Kind of. Maybe. Probably.

Regardless, you should come.

This Week Is Lame, Except I Am Making $200

listening to: uncommon ritual – sliding down

Sorry, readers. This has been the wrongest start of the last week of school, ever. Except for maybe last spring. Hmm.

Anyway. I am so close. SO CLOSE to being done. In terms of school-work turned in, at least. Except that after that, the crap keeps happening. Augh, this week.

But right. The last few days. Have been weird and crazy. I can only attribute this to school. And the cello. And I guess Spring in general and how every year when the weather lightens up I LOSE my freaking MIND.

Yeah. I’m not sure what happened. It started yesterday when some sort of construction people started constructing on the house next to use at 7:30 in the morning, after a night of poor sleep. And I grumbled. And it concluded when I finally got ahold of a recording of my recital. And listened to it. And realized that I am entirely full of shit. I mean, sometimes it’s musically good shit. But…well, not always. Shit, I tell you.

Anyway. I won’t get into it now, as it would be extremely verbose and take too long and oh god, I have hardly even started this shit that is due tomorrow, what with a rehearsal and a studio class and a lesson, all tonight.

But somehow, I’ve managed to counter the crap with some good. Some of the good of the last few days:

– watching Babylon 5 (I mean, good in that it’s awesome. Not in that it is conducive to accomplishing things)

– a group of people sitting on the 3rd floor all informing me that I have an awesome ass. I know this to be true, but it’s rare that a whole 5 people, and none of the skanks, agree upon this fact right in front of me. To quote some episode of MST3k I can’t recall right now, “DID YOU SEE MY BUTT?!”

– some other stuff I can’t think of.

Yeah. Oh, but I have another list. Of things I need.

I need:

– A haircut. For serious. Hello, damaged ends.

– My brain! Where did it go?!

DUMPLINGS! AND RELATED ITEMS!

– to seriously do something about my problems in procrastination that have nothing to do with praying to some made-up gods of productivity (I made them up).

– a mother and a nurse,
I need a girlfriend with a shotgun in her purse
I need a rug that doesn’t stain
I need a muffler for my brain

There were other things I wanted to say but can’t remember.