Song Of The Sad Assassin

I think everyone can agree: moving sucks ass. And I’m not even done with it yet.

One thing that’s brightened my packing and hauling days is Why?’s new album, Alopecia, which I purchased a few days back and seem to be completely unable to stop listening to. I’m not sure if I like it as much as Elephant Eyelash. Why? is almost making a Dismemberment Plan-esque transition into music that’s just a little bit more palatable and accessible than previously and pleasant than past stuff. Which is good. But sometimes I just like to be weirded out. Right? The lyrics are still the same level of obscurity, though.

This is a new favorite song and the video only encourages me to like it more.

Having Stuff Is Lame

listening to: why? – the vowels, pt 2

So, through some hilarious circumstances involving my car and some suspension issues, I ended up having to drive our Ford Aerostar back to Urbana this week. Basically meaning that I am pretty much moving out. By myself. Which is hilarious and sweaty. So far I’ve managed to realize that I have no upper arm and ruined a somewhat awesome pair of jeans through an incident I don’t want to talk about. Hooray.

Okay, but here’s my question: how have I managed to acquire so much CRAP during the last three years of living in this place? I mean…really. I think most of all, it’s the convenience of living so close to home. Because it meant that every time I went home, I could bring something back with me. Plus, the desire to fill those built-in bookshelves in my living-room. Those things rocked. Maybe that and my need to compulsively save everything school-related. Like readings I’m never going to read again. Man.

But anyway. I’ve learned my lesson. Because I hate stuff. And having to move it. And so I am going to not take so many things with me to Rochester, and vow to myself to throw things out, even if they’re things that I once found useful reading in class.

It’s also hard juggling packing things and trying to hang out with people. Stupid people.

Anyway. The moral of the story is….don’t own things.

The End.


listening to: the high llamas – put yourself down

Yeeeeeah, I need to update this thing. Even if it’s about mundane things.

Okay then!

Mundane thing # 1: In order to consolidate a good deal of space and embrace this 21st century, I’m ditching my ridiculously old TV with built in VCR. Yeah, that’s right. I’m getting rid of my kind of large collection of VHS tapes. But come on, I couldn’t just abandon all that MST3k I taped through the years, could I? So I’m transferring it all from VHS to DVD, thanks to our DVD recording machine.

I’m doing it manually, too, because I sort of want not have to rewind through the really bad local ads that Sci-Fi seems to love so much. The only problem with this is that I have to sit through the whole episode in order to pause the recording during the commercial, and if I walk away from the TV for more than about 30 seconds, I tend to miss the commercial break, and then end up with about a minute or so of commercial break recorded onto the DVD. DAMMIT. Why must I be a perfectionist?!

Mundane thing # 2: I just uploaded pretty much a lot of photos to Flickr, possibly more than a hundred. Go look. Now. Please? The sad thing is that I have at least another 200 photos to go. Blarn.

I should probably focus on other mundane things. Like practicing and studying. But I guess packing and sorting right now is kind of the big stupid thing in my life. And I guess waiting, too. I hate waiting.

On Freaking Out Regarding Life Transitions

So…heh. If you’ve known me for longer than I’ve been at the U of I, you may be somewhat well acquainted with the fact that I don’t deal well with transitional periods of the location-change variety (if you would like specific proof, just read the August 2003 archives, before about the 23rd or so! Hahaha, so young).

I mean, I don’t know. The whole moving to Iowa City for my first year of college was a pretty huge ordeal. I freaked out a lot. A LOT. A ridiculous amount. Probably an understandable amount for a fairly quiet girl who had lived in one place all her life, headed towards a big-ten school. And rightly so, as it took MONTHS to feel not weird and alienated. But moving to Illinois? Was a little different. The most painful thing dealing with that situation was deciding I wanted to actually transfer there, which was a heart-wrenching and impossible decision that went on between basically the months of April and August of 2004. Which is a long time. I think once everything was final about moving to Illinois, it was just a relief to have made a decision, and in comparison the moving wasn’t so bad. It helps that home was no more than about 45 minutes away.

But I dunno. If you know me, you also know that I have this weird existential attachment to location, which happens no matter where I live. The problem is that I don’t believe I’ll get attached to a place while I’m still focused on an old one, and it takes a while to like a new place. And there’s also some weird requirement in my head for me to get completely nostalgic about the old place, even before I leave it. Yes, that is happening right now.

So Rochester. It’s the furthest from home I will ever have lived, in my life. And transitioning into the new and unknown of music schools is always a little terrifying. And everyone I talk to seems to say that Rochester sucks. So today, and really the last couple days, I’ve been freaking out. A lot. I think when I realized that I actually have a limited amount of time here and with people, after a phone-conversation with my mom about moving out of here, I lost it. And I may have cried. And I may have eaten ice cream. There’s no way of knowing. But I freaked out. Why is location so important? Why does it matter? It’s not like when I leave here it will cease to exist, or I will fail to appreciate other places! More than anything, though, I don’t want this to be like before. Like when I was 17. I don’t.

But you know something? I’ve decided not to freak out. Anymore. I’m currently not. I currently feel fine and just like I really need to study and pack stuff. Rochester! It’s upstate New York! My family is from around there! So what if people whine about it? I definitely found it to be pretty aesthetically appealing when I visited there. Heck, I got the impression that Rochester was kind of COOL. If not a little crime-ridden and probably very cold in the winter. I definitely know my teacher is awesome. I definitely know a handful of great people at Eastman already. I definitely have a place to live and an excellent roommate. I definitely will not be living in some crappy dorm situation where there are loud people yelling outside my door until 3am every morning when I have a 7:30am class. I am definitely only going to be living there for a maximum of two years. And HIKING! There is HIKING in Upstate New York! And I have an ice-cream maker! Oh, man!! AN ICE-CREAM MAKER. What else could I possibly need in life?!

The moral of the story is that while I am generally kind of laid back about life, when it comes to transitional periods like this I definitely build them up and make them into these emotional and unnecessarily dramatic things, before they actually even happen. Screw that. For serious. I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t let it get to me and I definitely shouldn’t let it affect my relationships with people.

So I’m not. Going to do that anymore. And I will check in about my level of freaking out as the weeks progress. And if my mother even tries to freak me out by reminding me of everything I need to do while I’m actually just trying to get it all done without thinking of it? I will just plug my ears and sing a tune. A happy tune. Like this happy tune!! Hah! Peter Buck playing the Banjo! So happy. Oh, man.

Happy! Yes! You heard it here first!


I need to start accomplishing things more and watching How I Met Your Mother less. Just a plug for that show, YOU SHOULD WATCH IT. The first season is somewhat tepid, but crazy things start happening in the second, like the writers of the show seemingly just inserting purely hilarious material into it and it flowing much better. It helps that Neal Patrick Harris is kind of the man, and that I have a girl-crush on Alyson Hannigan.

I need to tend to my photos. It’s a dire situation, really. I have over 600 photos on my camera’s SD card that I have yet to transfer, but the bigger problem is all the photos already on my computer I haven’t even transfered yet, along with all the damn music I have that’s taking up all this limited SPACE. And so, I think I’m going to be getting myself one of these numbers. SO SHINY.

I wish more than anything right now that I didn’t have to make life harder for myself than it actually is. I wish I didn’t have to torture myself through speculation. I wish I could just kind of enjoy things as they are.

Oh freaking well.

Jiggidy Jiggidy Jiggidy

No, I did not contract some third awful sickness and die. I am alive!

But lo, Colorado College finished and I wrote nothing. Shame on me. The thing I notice about these absurd and busy summer orchestra things is that there’s not enough room for me to do much else but play the cello and go a little crazy inside. This is how sparse my blog would have been during YOA had I actually had regular access to the internet.

Oh. Wait. This is pretty much exactly how my blog looked during YOA. Huh.

Anyway. Colorado College was a vast number of things. Amazing. Ridiculous. Frustrating. A learning experience. An eye-opener. An annoyance. It was definitely the best string quartet experience I’ve had, possibly ever. A great deal of that is probably due to luck, as truly functional string quartets are seemingly kind of rare, and definitely something I don’t think I’ve experienced since I was perhaps 16.

The whole orchestra thing was…yeah. That was a great learning experience in terms or repertoire and playing with amaaaaazing players and being forced to sit principal even though I may have recently established that I haaaate sitting principal. It was an eye-opener, though, in that it’s made me realize that I do not want to play in an orchestra for a living, and that if that’s how I feel, I should really like, stop playing in these summer orchestra things! Because they’re so long and make me so tired and drained and misanthropic. I’m not saying I’ll never play in an orchestra, ever, or that I will definitely never do a summer program with orchestra again. But I really need to investigate musical things that are closer to what I would like to do for a living, in the future. Maybe.

But anyway. Colorado College ended last Tuesday. Wednesday morning I got up early and dropped another cellist off at the Denver airport on my way to Daniel’s! Yes! I was yet again a member of Dan Beahm and the Invisible Three! For like, five days! And also crashed Daniel and Erika’s extremely excellent house for that long. Basically, we ended up playing two shows and recording cello parts for 9 songs plus one very random track that will be used for dancing. It was a good post-crazy-festival time, especially because the kind of tedious and very specific work that goes with recording parts for an album is something I love. Even if we’re working on something and I go “this one note is weird and sounds wrong” and Daniel goes “oh, but this note is weird and sounds so VERY RIGHT.” Those are actually some of the very best moments, somehow.

I was also fed very very well during this time.

And now, I’m back. And that drive was long. And I saw cowboys. THREE OF THEM. And the Midwest is so very humid.

But it’s weird. Because Colorado was really beautiful but very dry, and for some reason it was light and airy because that moisture was missing. There’s something about the smell of that humidity and the severity of the moisture in the air in the Midwest that makes this summer. That was missing before. So now it must be summer.

Also, I am transferring more than 600 photos from my camera. The incredibly sad part is that these photos are from over two months ago, and very few are from Colorado. Again, I blame the busy schedule and weird lack of energy.