sigmastolen

The semester is ending at last, and now it's crunch time for real. And yet, there's no sign of my usual sudden ability to get shit done at the last second. I don't know what it is, but my ability to focus on anything (except for playing bassoon, apparently) is nonexistent. I can't even concentrate on my distractions -- it's all, let's read something! let's draw! let's do the dishes! let's check schedules! let's watch music on youtube! let's look up song lyrics! let's wiki dead actors! let's read something else! let's have some tea! let's snack! let's draw! let's check facebook! let's fix some old drawings with hairspray so they don't smear any more! let's daydream about paper topics! let's sing! let's daydream about knitting! let's hug the cats! let's post to lj!

Just now I actually walked away from the computer in the middle of typing this and did something else for a minute. I'm on the verge of making myself a cocktail. Or drawing. Or something. I don't even know.

Maybe it's that the semester is so long? Maybe it's lulled me into complacency? Or am I just rationalizing my shortcomings, as usual?

( let's talk about all the things that are about to screw me over! :D )

Also, today it has been pouring. It might snow later this week. WTF.

ALL I WANT TO DO IS PLAY BASSOON AND SLEEP
WTF HOW DID IT BECOME AFTER MIDNIGHT

No, no, actually. I'm about ready to declare Operation: Clean ALL The Things! a resounding success! Yay me!

Final Final Items:
- move cat things to bedroom
- vacuum living room
- final clear-off/wipe down of food/drink surfaces
- empty ALL the trashes!
- make bed
- Do Something about the blind in the front window

And that is all. No, really. Everything else is Done now.

In other news, I called my teacher at midnight because I lost track of time whilst Cleaning ALL The Things!

Yeah, I hope she's not mad. At least she didn't pick up? Or is that worse?

Next On: research seminar. rehearsal/coaching. Happy Fun Contra Tiem with Comrade N! dress rehearsal. pittsburgh symphony (joan tower clarinet concerto; appalachian spring). cocktail party! drop dead of tired. wake up and play a concert.

In preparation for a cocktail party I'm hosting on Friday (Comrade P insists on calling it a "get-together" -- parties are for undergrads, get-togethers are for cool, low-key, responsible grad students), I have initiated what I like to call, Operation: Clean ALL The Things! (helpful explanatory link) I didn't do as much as I intended to this weekend, but it's... going well, I think.

---

DONE:
- laundry (ongoing)
--- clothing
--- linens
- dishes (ongoing)
- kitchen counters
- stove top
- threw out pile of unnecessary papers

STILL TO DO:
- kitchen
--- sink
--- oven??
--- coffee maker
--- wipe down toaster
- bathroom
--- sink
--- tub
--- toilet
--- mirror
- living room
--- remove (black) cat hair from (white) loveseat (yeah, that was perhaps not a good call on my part)
--- Do Something about the blind in the front window -- it's one of those roll-up ones, and the bracket is fuxxed so it falls down a lot and is currently extended all the way so it covers part of the radiator in addition to the window
--- finally figure out how to hook up DVD player so that it actually works?
- bedroom
--- tidy items on top of dresser
--- put away pile of shoes
--- put away pile of bras
--- make bed
--- relocate litterbox & cat dishes to bedroom for Friday night
- dining room
--- clear library books & random papers off table
--- clear coats & scarves off computer stand
- entire flat
--- vacuum
--- mop (well, Swiffer Wet Jet)
--- put up posters? They've been sitting rolled up on the bookshelf since they arrived. :(

..... okay, that actually looks like a fuck of a lot still to do. Uh.

addt'l prep:
- booze run (Wine & Spirits store)
- mixer/garnish/ice run (Giant Eagle, the local supermarket)
- snack run (Trader Joe's -- MUST FIGURE OUT HOW TO BUS THERE & BACK. Or draft someone to drive me I guess. Eh.)

Tuesday was another concert (it seriously feels like concert after concert here, and I'm not even in them all) -- Beethoven 7, in which I played second bassoon and I swear to god, I've never felt so insecure about my intonation in my life. Not even when Maestro has called me out, not even on uncontrollable contrabassoons. I don't even know. But they're so exposed, the wind parts in that symphony, and playing second bassoon is a big responsibility in terms of intonation. (And I wish more bassoonists I've played with would understand this. Playing second isn't a consequence of "not being good enough to play first" and it doesn't mean you don't matter, jesus. You are the bass voice. You control the pitch.) But anyway, my sources in the audience tell me that the woodwind intonation was excellent (certainly better than the brass or the strings), so I guess I count that one as a win despite my anxiety. (but seriously there were a few chords where I just didn't even play because I had no idea where the pitch center was or where I was supposed to be. it was so upsetting.)

Anyway. Afterwards, the bull-like percussionist I mentioned the other day came up to me while I was packing up, and asked me if I was doing anything after the concert. "I don't know," I answered honestly, and at point I needed to dump my reed water, so I excused myself for a minute. He didn't really continue the conversation when I came back, and I was frazzled enough from the performance and the pressing need to go find my teacher and see what she thought of it, that I wasn't totally aware of anything except for making sure I had all my stuff (and you know me, I always have an epic amount of stuff). Anyway, after I had managed to put my coat back on, he kind of mumbled a farewell at me, and I must have looked back at him wild-eyed, because he said something about how I had a lot going on or something. I didn't realize until later that, oh, oops, he was trying to ask me out, and I was so flustered and distracted that he just kind of gave up.

I mentioned it later to Comrade P and the principal oboist and flautist, because we ended up going for a drink (there's a bar near my apartment with AMAZING winter drinks -- apple cider with rum, which was what I had, and some pretty excellent-sounding coffee drinks and chocolate and/or caramel flavoured things. Must remember to return), and while the girls were advising me to just accept dates if I'm undecided because, hey, free meal (I love musicians. So pragmatic about food), I realised that, completely aside from not being remotely into him, I kind of don't want a relationship. I'm quite accustomed to being totally starved for touch by now, and while it's now awesome, I'm not that desperate -- I can handle it for a while longer. Honestly, I don't want to try to make space in my life for someone else right now; I have enough going on with my bassoon and my cats and just trying to make friends, and not lose the ones that are scattered around the country. (but a hookup or two wouldn't be the worst thing ever, i mean, a girl has needs, amirite?)

So yeah. Whatever. I do feel like I should apologize to the poor dude for being such a spaz, but in one of those weird twists of kismet or something, I haven't run into him even once since Tuesday. *shrug*

(Subjects this entry has had: "Hmm," "Single McSingleton," "Perennially Single")
(Also: I am once again contemplating my singleness while baking cookies. WTF is this? I blame texting with Will, he always makes me get all romantically introspective. It's a knee-jerk reaction from high school when we were both pretentious and I wanted to impress him with how deep I am. Talking is much easier now that we both understand that he takes things at face value and means exactly what he says, and that I almost never say what I mean. Hah.)

(In other news, I think I have discovered How Not To Eat All The Cookie Dough Before It Becomes Cookies (or How Not To Eat All The Cookies You Just Baked): improvise a disturbingly sweet but still boozy cocktail from whatever is on hand (in my case, gin, dry vermouth, and creme de menthe syrup (not proper creme de menthe mind you -- just sweet minty syrup), stirred) and drink it while you're baking. It effectively removes any desire to consume anything else that is sweet. (OH MY GOD THE NESTED PARENTHESES, LET ME SHOW YOU THEM. HAVE I CLOSED THEM ALL PROPERLY? I HOPE SO, JFC.))

(In other other news, today the rice cooker arrived in the mail (yeah, mum mailed me the one I had at the apartment last year. Mum mails me a lot of things lately. I'm so glad she loves me.), so tonight was TOFU CURRY OVER RICE EXTRAVAGANZA!!!!!! Because I tried tofu curry over pasta before i found the rice at the grocery store, and it was DISGUSTING LIKE A DISGUSTING THING. I made the curry sauce myself. It was weirdly bland, though... I am not sure what it needs. The recipe is here, and I added some ground ginger because ginger is the shit, okay? Anyway, I'd appreciate thoughts on this recipe. MOAR FLAVR: WANT. HOW I CAN HAS??)

(@ 3:43 -- Cookies: finished. My sleep schedule: officially fuxx0red! :D !!!)

This story actually starts yesterday. Saturday I went to see the Pittsburgh Symphony play Beethoven 5 and some other stuff, and I was really keyed up still when I got home (OMG MOTIF! OMG SCHERZO!! OMG MY TEACHER IS SO FABUOUS!!!), so I stayed up late late. (btw, Saturday was v. busy, between practicing, having a lesson, getting an iPhone, and going to the Symphony. I pretty much spent the entire afternoon on buses, or waiting for buses. Which apparently tend not to run on time on Saturdays.) So then on Sunday I woke up about 8:30 or 9, later than I intended, and allergies were terrible so I fed the cats, had some tea and a couple spoonfuls of peanut butter (shut up, peanut butter rocks), and then napped from about 10:00 until 2:30. At that point, either the allergy meds had kicked in or the allergens had subsided, so I got up, had a shower, and made food (tea and grilled cheese and fried eggs. I ran out of Cheerios on Saturday, okay? I'm having to be creative about breakfast). I had wanted to go to DSW to find myself some closed-toed flats (because I don't have any right now and open-toed shoes are really not gonna cut it, very soon), but then the Port Authority website said there would be bus outages along the route I needed to take, so I decided that Fate was against me getting shoes, so instead I practiced for a few hours, then cooked some more (curry with tofu & egg over pasta because I can't find the goddamn rice in the grocery store, and cheesy bread allegedly for today's breakfast). And then I fucked around on the internet because, what do you know, it was midnight and I wasn't sleepy. And I wasn't sleepy. And I wasn't sleepy.

Around 2 I was like, I better go be in bed, because if I stay out here in the dining room I'll never sleep. And then I was lying in bed in the dark, still awake. And still awake. And still awake. Until 5 am.

At 5 I was finally, finally, kinda tired, so I thought, "one hour of sleep is better than no sleep; I'll nap until my alarm goes off at six! Because my 9 am rep class is doing Mendelssohn 3 and Brahms 4 today!"

And then at 9:12 I woke up to Baxter clawing my arm and crying for breakfast.

So I dashed off a quick text to Bassoonist P, my stand partner, took a fast shower, discovered it was raining, dug up my rainboots and a jacket and scarf, repacked my bag (because it got very unpacked this weekend while I was running errands), and dashed out to the bus. I arrived at class around 10:12 and followed along with Brahms 4 for about 5 minutes until they packed up, and then the professor teased me a little about needing a new alarm clock. And then he teased me some more about being late when I ran into him in the cafe (OMG BTW MY SCHOOL HAS A CAFE IN THE FINE ARTS BUILDING. THIS IS HOW IT'S DONE, PEOPLE. Because musicians and artists are probably the most caffeinated people on any given college campus ever).

So I practised for perhaps an hour because hey, we have lessons again today! And then I was hurriedly packing up to go to my noon class when Bassoonist P asked if I was leaving, and so I surrendered my practice room to him. Dashing out the building, I passed a couple other people who are also in my noon class, none of them in the same hurry I was. And yet I thought nothing of it. Until I walked halfway across campus to the building the class is in, and the lecture hall was dark and empty. And finally I was like, "crap. Did I miss a memo or something?" So then I checked my e-mail, and indeed, the professor had cancelled class. At 9:00 last night. And as much as it was definitely a case of me being as big a fuck-up as ever lived, it would have been nice of someone to say, "hey, you know class is cancelled, right?" while I was boogieing out of the CFA (college of fine arts)

So then I trudged back to the CFA and got chips and a bagel in the cafe and we're finally up to now.

Also, you guys:
My Hair: ASASLKDJHFSAHD;K RAIN SWEAT WIND HUMID PRACTICE ROOM A;SDKLFJLK
Me: oh god why. what am i supposed to do with this?


The picture really doesn't do it justice. It is impressively crazy.

Last week -- two weeks ago? Er, maybe, oops -- I bought a "locally-grown" eggplant from Giant Eagle, which appears to be Pittsburgh's answer to Ralphs. Last night, I decided it was about damn time to cook it. I considered making eggplant parmesan, but then I thought, no, how cliché, and also, omg prolly way too complicated, as well as, bread crumbs? fuck that shit! So instead I went to BBC Food and searched for "eggplant."

And it returned zero hits.

And then, feeling rather idiotic, I seared for "aubergine," and lo, there were recipes! And then I narrowed it to "vegetarian" (not because I'm actually vegetarian, guys, but because I get squeamish when handling raw meat cannot be arsed to cook meat) and "main course" and "quick & easy" and decided my best option was...

( Aubergine Pizza )

You may have noticed that this only used half an eggplant. I used the other half tonight (and, note to self: if you really want to get to bed before midnight ever, you should stop cooking elaborate dinners after 9 pm) in a much more self-directed creation.

( Eggplant Pasta )

GO FORTH AND FEAST!!!!

p.s. Earning my membership to the Latent Alcoholics Club here... I paired both these dishes with Barefoot Shiraz, a dry red. It's pretty good wine, on a student's budget -- usually $4.99 in CA, and a dollar or two more here in Pittsburgh (probably on account of having to send it far away, their HQ is in Modesto). You know. Because I'm a lush.

So I'm in Pittsburgh! Yeah, I made it. My apartment is big, bigger than I was expecting, and it feels like the furniture mum and I hurriedly purchased from Ikea doesn't even come close to filling it. That said, it's old and kind of shitty, and was definitely NOT move-in ready: the place hadn't been properly cleaned and the fridge smelled like death and most of my windows are broken in some way (won't stay open, won't lock, won't lock, or both, and one of the only ones that does doesn't have its screen in). And there was no electricity for a few days, so we were indoor-camping: sleeping on an air mattress, using a battery-powered lantern for light, and eating out all the time.

My place is really close to the "main drag" of my neighbourhood, so I'm very very close to the grocery store, the liquor store, the post office, the bank, and many, many restaurants (including a tea shop and a coffee shop, both of which I enjoy, although the tea place is really hipstery and sometimes I feel too lame for it). AND! Two of the buses that I can ride to school stop right at my cross-street, so that will be totally awesome when it snows. (How weird is it that the clause when it snows is completely true and inevitable?) (I'm also still astounded by the trees. There are woods here! We flew over them. And I was like, wait, trees like this don't happen in places I live. wtf? Which I guess is what happens when I've lived practically my entire life in what would naturally be a DESERT. Or, you know, coastal scrub or something. The point is, Greater Los Angeles County does not have trees the way Pittsburgh has trees. In Southern California, trees only happen in the mountains. And sometimes not even there.)

I've had my first week of classes, although it wasn't really the full experience, because ensemble rehearsals haven't started yet, and chamber groups haven't yet been assigned. Which was kind of nice, because then I had extra time to sleep and to practise, which I probably could have done more of, since my orchestra audition Thursday night TOTALLY BLEW. I've been feeling insufficiently prepared for quite a while now, and then I didn't really think I was nervous, but when I started to play my hands were super sweaty and kept sliding off the keys so there were a ton of wrong notes and it was just kind of crap. There are only five of us right now, though (the sixth girl arrives on Tuesday), and Mahler 6 will use all five of us, so I was at least pretty certain of playing something, and I have no great need to be FIRST ALL THE TIEM OMG. So evidently what I achieved was contrabassoon. Yes. Contrabassoon. Already. Go ahead, laugh it up. At least I brought my reeds (omg relief).

I'm making friends, gradually. I've been conversing with a handful of other first-year Master's students: two composers, two conductors, a tuba player, a clarinetist... and a handful of continuing grad students: another composer, a clarinetist, an oboist... as well as the other bassoonists -- we went out for dinner after our auditions. There's a continuing grad student (P -- he's leaving after this semester to play with the San Francisco ballet), a junior (N), another new MM student (X -- he is Chinese) and a new "PRP" student (K), which is something like a performance certificate or something -- non-degree grad student, so she doesn't have to take any academic classes. And I at least know everyone in my Eurhythmics class by name, since we've been playing name games. And, after the Bassoon Dinner (which also included two oboists, a clarinetist, and Chinese Bassoonist's wife), I watched Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country with at the grad oboist's apartment with Grad Bassoonist P, and it was good.

I have also managed four things of note:
- I am successfully navigating the bus system to travel between my apartment and campus. SHUT UP, IT'S A BIG THING FOR ME. I have historically been afraid of Public Transportation.
- Monday, the first day of classes, I did not bring my instrument to the Woodwind Literature & Repertoire class :( It wasn't the end of the world, the professor let it slide and I sang my part, but I still felt like a TOTAL ASS and possibly made a bad impression on P although he seems to have accepted me as a fellow Trekker
- Friday I played a demo for the graduate orchestration class :) Maybe they'll write music for me!
- I passed the Graduate Proficiency Exams in music theory and music history, despite my serious misgivings about how much I had forgotten since I last took a course in either of those. YAY ME!

Today I have been having TERRIBLE TERRIBLE ALLERGIES but I did work up the willpower to vacuum and mop my apartment, as well as do the dishes that have been amassing since Thursday. Things I was supposed to also do but have not: laundry (although I have just enough quarters for one load, and there are potentially three or four loads that need washing -- my building's machines are BLOODY EXPENSIVE, $1.75 to wash and $1.50 to dry WTF), empty the trash, empty the litter box (oh god my allergies cannot take litter dust right now), write thank-you notes, read the articles for Music and Nature for Monday, play bassoon (again, oh god my allergies prevent it right now). But I guess there is still time for me to do the fun online things I jotted on my to-do list, like upload my camera to iPhoto, re-download photos I lost in The Crash from Facebook and PhotoBucket, and take pictures of my apartment now that it is clean and has things in it.

So I guess that's it for now: new city, new school, new people, new allergens!

Epic Audition Extravaganza: The Completed List
1. PACT: Do Not Want, Wednesday night panic, Muscle Spasm awesomesauce, Granola Bars FAIL, probable overpacking
2. LAX: Terminal 6 does not appear to have a theme... but does have plants, sausage sandwich, sitting and waiting, I change my wallpaper when I'm bored apparently
3. Midair: Continental serves Bombay Sapphire (which is a bigger point in its favour than it should be considering I don't generally imbibe on airplanes and especially not when I have to do something important the next day) and experiments with biofuels, sleeping through lunch, Renee Zellweger is Not Pretty, Houston is verdant.
4. IAH: many sprawling terminals, rude cart drivers, extremely localized food, assholes at chili's, Apple Fritters are NOT Apple-Filled, changing gates OMG: I am not amused; many outlets; many running people (I feel this is a sign that the layout here is ineffective); no dinosaurs here either; waiting forever to board
5. Midair: teeny jet, smashed finger, eager-to-please flight attendant, sleeping, omg my ears
6. Greensboro --> Winston-Salem: Awkward driver, Historic Hotel is Actually Posh (pictures!), These Boots: Made Foar Walkin
7. UNCSA: Disjunct practise rooms, Air Travel Fiasco Part the First, The Audition (so-so), Oon Bonding: Lunch, The Interview, Oon Bonding: Coffee (which I had to regretfully decline)
8. Winston-Salem --> Greensboro: These Boots: No Moar Walkin Pls, Automated Phone Systems Suck, Chatty Driver
9. GSO: Ticket Fiasco Part the Second (OMG OMG OMG)
10. Midair: Sunset Sandwich, SO MUCH SNOW
11. PHL: How do they get the snow off of so much tarmac?, still (miraculously) on time, very convenient clocks everywhere (yes, this is notable), classical music (Quiet City :) ), CNN: "Monster Nor'easter"
12. Midair: PROPELLOR PLANE OMG, de-icing fluid, fucking loud, uncomfortably warm cabin, uncomfortably warm dude (why must you choose to sit next to me?), dumbfuck lady behind me (worthless human being)
13. EWR: wtf soliciting taxis inside baggage claim (TSA should make them gtfo), the clear deterioration of my mood (stressed? tangry? hangry?), muscle spasm: reprise, I just found a dust bunny under my keyboard cover wtf
14. New Brunswick: Meeting Zach's friends, cosmos, hangover, New Brunswick is charming, snow makes things pretty (and ice makes them slippery), orchestra concert, Houlihan's and bassoon-related desperation, fastest audition turnaround EVAR, sleepover!, omg the snoring (how does your girlfriend stand you?), breakfast or lack thereof (two granola bars and a tangerine, which has less of a ring to it than "two turntables and a microphone"), snow is cute!
15. Onna Train: easy-peasy, so sleepy, Not the Closest Stop to Temple
16. Temple: only arriving 15 minutes before means I can't overtire my chops in the practise room :D, The Audition (I think it went well but man am I awkward. Also, no "do you have any questions?" wtf)
17. Wandering Philadelphia with my Bassoon: The Broad Street Line (and the rude ticket booth attendant), Avenue of the Arts, Curtis, Rittenhouse Square, Walnut Street (H&M + Steve Madden = Temptation), classy ladies eat at McDonald's, City Hall and the Love Statue (pictures!), The Blue Line (one stop haha but it's better than walking 8 blocks), serendipitously convenient timing
18. Onna Train Again: still easy, still sleepy.
19. New Brunswick: walking distance ftw, awkward ride offer, naptiems, Fat Sandwiches, The Hangover
20. Monday: seriously dude chill the fuck out, Coldstone :D, No Restrooms Anywhere, Spontaneous Audition is Spontaneous!, I hate paperwork, train, subway, Hot Dogs Are Delicious, Lincoln Center is Pretty, OMG THE MET (Barber of Seville; can I work here please?), Deacon Brody's, RUN RUN RUN, embarrassing stories are embarrassing!
22. Tuesday: sitting around, OCD suitcase management, Tiny Professor is Tiny, New York Adventure! (train, subway, Mannes, rehearsing with Raphael, aimless wanderings, Roomie!, chilling with Paula: YMCA, Dinner (Peter's), Cupcakes (Magnolia), missing the train), margaritas (likely ill-advised), The Rite of Spting
23. Wednesday: Toaster Oven FAIL, New York Adeventure! (bus, train, Penn Station is Still Confusing, the 81st St. subway station is the prettiest (PICTURES)), The Audition (Mozart I, Berceuse, Alan Fox), aimlessly wandering the Upper West Side (eggplant parmesan in Central Park (PICTURES!)), Museum of Natural History (Birds! Dinosaurs! how the hell do I leave? no time for rocks, space :c (MORE PICTURES!)), omg my feet, The Music Theory Battery, train, dinner and much wine and Beatles Rock Band
24. Thursday: mild oversleeping (still with time to organizedly re-re-pack), train, EWR (Dunkin' Donuts outside security but not inside? FOUL DECEITFULTEMPTRESS, No Freaking Outlets), Onna Plane (crosswords, sleeping), PHX (WTF weird random hills GTFO, CPK :D, No Freaking Outlets Again), Onna Plane (sniffles, boredom, sudoku), LAX (fuckers don't know how to drive), home again home again (kitties! disgusting hair! sleeping!), apartment (ugh just go the fuck to bed)
25. Friday: Reasons I Hate Flatmate (huge mess, coffee grinds, coffee pot, garbage disposal, fridge takeover), SCSBOA Festival (these shoes: not made foar walkin), Contempo Flux, Napa, home again home again


Also!! My car has a passenger-side mirror again. Yay :)

so my apartment managers definitely didn't warn us that the water would be turned off this morning (or if they did, I definitely didn't get the memo, which I'm reasonably certain was not posted anywhere I would potentially see it), presumably from about 9-10, because I tried to take a shower at 9:30 and it was off, but it seems to have just come back on... about 15 minutes too late for me to be able to take a shower before I have to leave for work. Between the tea kettle and the Brita, I was able to have enough of a wash that I don't smell bad, but man my hair is disgusting. It's definitely a hat day. :C motherfuckers.

also, the inconvenience has prevented me from doing any of my chores.

I cannot live with someone whose definition of clean includes oily film and crusted food.

I really cannot.

----

The upside to Flatmate being totally incapacitated from tooth pain and the resultant oral surgery, though, is that her dad is taking her home to be rehabilitated by her parents. She'll be gone for at least a couple days.

What does this mean for me?
- a clean goddamn kitchen
- I get to rot my brain in front of the telly in peace

Score.