Tonight marks the first time, ever, in the history of my 24-and-some-odd years, that I’ve fucked up any kind of rice in a rice cooker.
I guess I’ve gotten cocky with my cosmic rice-cooking abilities and in turn have become reckless. I slopped just enough water into the pot that I ended up with dreaded soggy, soppy rice. There’s a fine line between sticky rice and sloppy rice, and now I guess I know where that line rests. Damn me.
In other news, joints and things are pretty sore from that damn run, and my metabolism is going a little nuts. I seem to need to be eating something, all the time, but can never actually eat that much at a time. I think I’m going to need to go that extra mile to keep food with me, always, or else I’ll turn into a hungry-grumpy troll, and nobody likes Hungry Grumpy Troll Talia. All I really need in those situations to do some serious damage is a club. So LOOKOUT.
Oh holy shit, I ran 8 miles today. What the hell is wrong with meeeee? Or rather, what is so staggeringly right about me?
My knees are a little pissed off at me for the moment, and somewhere towards the end of this run I honestly felt like someone had attached lead weights to each of my feet. But the other feelings were good. Like this funny feeling of bad-assery. Because I’m not sure I’ve ever even run eight miles in one go before. I remember there was a really great spring that I ended up consistently doing six, but never more than that. Man. Those were good days. Days without hills. And running through big, giant prairie preserves with hordes of Redwinged Black Birds and occasional really freaky sculpture art.
Running is one thing I especially miss about Urbana. Maybe it was just my proximity to some good running areas, or how much safer I felt while I was out running, traffic-wise. Race Street was the best. A street that leads you directly out of the residential area and directly into some expansive, car-lacking areas. There’s a mile stretch on this street that has no intersections, providing some peace of mind for car-paranoid people such as myself. And at the end of Race Street was the aforementioned crazy prairie preserve of doom, Meadowbrook Park. The park has small and large loops, the large loop circling an entire 3 miles. I would run from my apartment just off of campus, out on Race Street, and then do a large loop in Meadowbrook. As far as I’m concerned, Meadowbrook Park is perfect. I think I actually have dreams that take place in Meadowbrook Park, it’s so perfect.
Rochester in comparison is a bit terrifying. I’m mainly just paranoid of random death by car, which I think is a reasonable worry. Rochester does have the Erie Canal, though. Which happens to be fantastic for running (or biking or RIDING A DANG HORSE), as many canal trails tend to be. The main problem is that it’s pretty far from where I live. The Erie Canal trail pretty much the Special Occasion running trail, for those times when I feel like it’s okay to drive six or seven miles to the place where I plan to run, instead of just bouncing out my door and going from there.
THAT WAS MY BLURB ON RUNNING OH GOD WHY DID I RUN 8 MILES.
I ended up watching the movie version of Brief Interviews with Hideous Men last night, the one that Jim from The Office directed/adapted/etc. And…you know? It was actually really not bad, which is much better than I had hoped for it to turn out. Hooray? Some follow-up comments:
1) First and foremost, David Foster Wallace is one of the most brilliant writers of the 1990’s-2000’s, and his use of words and page-space will never be as effective in a film as they are in his books. Bottom line. GO READ BRIEF INTERVIEWS WITH HIDEOUS MEN.
2) John Krasinki, bless his pretty-faced, Polish soul, really doesn’t need to act big parts in movies that he’s also directing. I think he’s a pretty great actor, with the caveat that he does well in certain roles, say Jim from The Office or What’s His Name from Away We Go. The role he was acting in this movie just…lacked.
3) Oh, Lester, even as a Hideous Man, you’re too smooth for your own good.
This thing happened yesterday where I ran six miles, and…I know. Six miles doesn’t just fall out of the sky and happen. You actually have to RUN those miles to make them happen. But I went running with another human being for the first time in a LOOONG time, and like with most people-involved things in life, I’m a pushover, and am over-ambitious. And six miles was the result.
So anyway. I’m glad I didn’t injure myself or anything, being as I’m just coming back from a winter without any hardcore running, and have only done a couple 3 mile runs since then. The awesome thing is that I think that six mile run totally forced my body to adjust to the lost hour (or two, if you count switching time-zones), because ohmigod, I want to go to bed right now, and it’s NOT EVEN 9.30.
My summer plans have fallen into place within the course of maybe a few hours, greatly easing my “holy shit what am I going to do after I graaaduate” anxiety. It’s a good thing. So anyway, if any of you live in or are going to be in Madison, WI in June….let’s hang out?!
Just in case you were wondering when I was going to remind you how much I love the band Number Girl…
I definitely still love them. A lot.
You know how I complain all the time about socializing and anxiety and crap like that? I’m going to NOT do that for a change, but rather say that going drinking with a bunch of brass players is…very very ridiculous.
So….about that random freaking out. It’s anxiety, yes. But equally the social kind and more of the “what the hell am I going to do with myself in the FUTUUURE” kind.
I spent much of last year freaking out and wondering constantly and very vocally to anyone who would listen, what the hell am I doing here? How am I in still a music school? Can’t I do something besides music, even with a stupid musical family who all seem pretty insistent on my continuing in some sort of musical tradition? How can I prepare myself for other things? I think there were two parts to that. One was that I was having a really hard time adjusting to life at this school. Which is not surprising. This is a damn crazy school, and I don’t think there was anything that could have sufficiently prepared me for that crazy. The other part is that, by god, I don’t just want to be a musician! I need some balance! And there are so many other things I want to do! And it’s never too late, right? To expand?
And that’s all great and dandy and I’m glad I did some of the expanding I did during this period. But now that the end of my schooling is near, my brain just hurts. My plan so far has been to move back home, because man, I just need to get away from academia and performance-craze and maybe just figure out what I want to do, and I wouldn’t mind doing so in my home town. But everybody else is doing all this shit like MOVING TO HAPPENING METROPOLITAN AREAS and going to new places, and that’s all everyone talks about these days because what else IS there to talk about (I’m not blaming other people for talking about their cool plans — I’m glad other people have cool plans). But man, is it making me insecure about my decisions. This year I’ve HAD to very vehemently involve myself in my musical and academic surroundings, and it’s forced me back into the mentality of, you know. A classical performance-oriented person, instead of someone who’s trying to balance the notion of a career in music with a career in something less performance-oriented. I can say I miss that older way of thinking — it provided me with some different material to let rattle around my brain. I think if I still had that kind of two-way focus, I wouldn’t be randomly worrying this way. On the other hand, being so involved in this school and the music myself and the people around me are making is rewarding in a lot of ways, too, but with the price that I become downtrodden and overloaded by it all very easily. I overheat. I need a classical performance fan or something.
And so something I have to keep in mind, while everyone makes their plans to go into the real world with their music-y skills or continue their studies or whatever, is that a little bit of space is going to do me good and will help me to refocus and reconnect with what I really want to do (whatever that is). And I shouldn’t feel bad about that.
Also, in completely unrelated things, Synecdoche, NY is a pretty messed up movie, and Diane Wiest may have just made me cry.
I love that I have a social life these days. But I never realize when I’m spreading myself too thin. And then I go hyperventilate.
Seriously. I’m not complaining. It’s just…I’ve been such a curmudgeon for so long, in terms of hanging out with other people and the numbers of people and the crowds. I’m only just now beginning to open myself up and be okay in larger groups of people. For the longest time, I only wanted to be around small-ish groups of people in non-public places. Bars during undergrad…for the most part….baaad.
Things are improving. I’m definitely coming out of my shell in ways I possibly haven’t ever before. And it’s really really awesome.
So DAMN, if I’m still getting used to it. I love the people around me, LOVE, but that crazy-ass agoraphobic/social anxiety stuff occasionally just makes me want to run away from other human-beings shrieking. Not all the time, or anything. It’ll just…occur to me that I want to run away shrieking, for a split-second. And then it will be gone.
So anyway. That.
Also: I miss Dan Beahm and the Invisible Three. Really, really miss. Daniel and Erika are finishing up with a movie, Leading Ladies. The trailer was just released, and I’m pretty darned excited. And some of my mad cello-playing skills might appear in the soundtrack. And…man, I just want to move to Denver. That’s all I want.
And….I had NO idea this was on YouTube until I googled my own name more recently. So…have fun, anybody searching for me on Google!
Oh, hell, this actually depresses me how much I miss it.
It’s pretty notable that I’m (yet again) going back through some blog archives. Just to see. We’re talking March of 2002 when I started blogging.
It’s also pretty notable how HORRIFYING it is to read blog archives from when you’re 16 years old, if a good 8 or so years have passed since then. I talk a LOT about Japan, to an annoying degree. And how I think nobody at school likes me, also to an annoying degree. And I may even mention using Netscape Navigator once (REMEMBER THOSE DAYS?).
See? HORRIFYING. It’s kind of like the further I get from those days, the more unfocused and purposeless and just…unnecessary all of this blogging-as-a-16-year-old business was. But I could never bring myself to axe the archives. I’d feel kind of guilty for hiding the evidence. Also, part of me is sickeningly proud of the fact that I have blogged pretty damn regularly for over 8 years.
But…well, I just can’t lie about the fact that I’m going out of my way, right here in 2010, to fix those damn spelling mistakes from 2002.
No motivation during Spring Break (except practicing — for which I win a prize).
Moving to WordPress quite soon.
Having very small existential crisis (pales in comparison to others) about what I’m going to do post-school. Am worried I might spontaneously move to Berlin or Boston or another one of those B-letter towns (such as Boulder).
That is pretty much all. Expect delightful WordPress romping everywhere you look, and soon.
How is it that the happiest part of my evening last night was somehow being bitten by a cat? To be fair, that is one awesome cat that bit me. I’m sort of tickled pink that he bit me, because frankly, I thought maybe I wasn’t worthy of his bites, or something. I sound completely off my rocker.
Not to totally bash the remainder of my evening or anything. It’s just that I think sometimes, if the universe is playing its cards in just the right way, I temporarily forget or ignore the fact that I’m a big cranky introvert, end up spreading my people-interacting self way too thin, and then lose my mind. The same is true in opposing circumstances, in which I don’t interact with people enough. It’s a cosmic balance for me, which when thrown off, causes me to pretty much flip my shit. Alone-time is essential, and it’s needed regularly and steadily with me. And maybe I’ve just been ignoring that fact or not finding the proper time for it lately, or something??
I’m happy that I’m finding friends here, even still, and really occasionally being able to enjoy the company of people in ways I maybe haven’t since moving to Rochester. However, the nature of the past three weeks have left me ruffled and in need of some vast alone-time (which I will have during my 13-hour drive home!). I’m definitely moving between that level of people-weariness and some serious batshit crazy social anxiety. In addition to that, I’m realizing that I’m kiiiiiind of agoraphobic, and that concert/reception/crowded bar/etc settings exacerbate panicky feelings by a lot. It’s like the icing on the cake of my own personal hell. And going to Eastman? Um, concerts/receptions/bars is sort of life.
I think it’s good to get back down to earth a little bit here, and actually make myself be analytical in regards to why I’m freaking out as opposed to just continue to freak out. Which I did a lot of by myself last night for what I guess any sane person would assume to be no reason at all.
So things will be better, after some good driving and some low-stress time in the presence of people who I feel utterly comfortable with.
*edit* This is the part of the entry that Blogger ate. It continued as such:
Also, I look forward to some serious alone-time in my car with Stuart Davis tomorrow. Oh yeah.
Apparently Blogger has extended the date for termination of FTP-publishing. My goal is still to get things moving before then, but GOD KNOWS when I’ll have the right time/motivation combination to get that one going. I still really really hope to have everything moving by March whatever-date-it-was.
I soooo need Spring Break. I have to admit that so far this semester has been my best and most enjoyable at Eastman. And I suspect that I’m so excitable and pleased by these feelings of enjoyment that I’m in denial of the fact that holy CRAP, I am vaguely stressed out. I think this XTC song, English Roundabout, in a 5-based meter with one of my favorite pop-song harmonic progressions sums it up. And by “it” I mean “the weird, underlying unspoken stress that exudes from all parts of this here school:
I’madouche. Who waited much too long. To begin studying for a Midterm.
But yeah. That’s only part of my brain talking. I’m pretty over academic work related to school at this point, so meh. That’s the other part of my brain talking.
And yet here I am. Reading text about 20th century music at 1:15am. And I somehow still find it engaging.
But that’s besides the point! This entry is really about….The Organ. Behold:
My thoughts on the video at hand are…
A) I’m pretty sure the lead singer is actually my history professor….
B) Uh oh. I’m feeling a sudden impulse to run off and move to Vancouver so I can start an all-girl band of my own in which I sing in a manner that combines Robert Smith of The Cure, Morrissey of The Smiths and That Guy from Interpol.
This entry brought to you by Midterm Brain-Leakage.