sigmastolen: (bassoonists do it with their thumbs)
In which I critical media studies it up and end up panning Puccini. Oops. )

But yeah. Sumptuous set and stunning costumes, though with a preponderance of Generic!Asian details and the colour red (BECAUSE THE ONLY WAY WE'LL KNOW IT'S IN CHINA IS IF EVERYTHING IS RED); very well performed by orchestra, singers, and dancers alike (EXCEPT YOU, CHORUS. YOU WERE NOT SO HOT.); and enormous problems re: racism, sexism, consent. THANKS BUT NO THANKS, PUCCINI.

And now I have to be done because, damn, it's late, and my cat has dandruff.
sigmastolen: (bassoonists do it with their thumbs)
Dear oboist who I don't like that much who wants to stay at my apartment when you are in town for auditions,

When I grudgingly tell you you can stay at my place and ask you, two weeks prior to your dates of travel, to send me your itinerary (including when you plan to drive your ass to a city in another state to take an audition there, while still using my apartment as your "home base"), you should probably DO THAT. You know, instead of not responding to my message in any way, whether it be to tell me your goddamn itinerary, or to tell me that I'm off the hook and you're booking a fucking hotel. You're supposed to be arriving in two days, am I supposed to house you or not? Are you even still coming??? UGHHHHHHHHHH.

Decidedly ungraciously,
Sigma
sigmastolen: (omgcrab)
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
sigmastolen: (Default)
So, it has not been a good week for bassoon. I think this is about the third or fourth time that I've been trying to practice, but had a temper tantrum and had to pack it in? Which. No. No good. And the thing is, when I'm having a bad time practicing, I hate everyone else who is also practicing. For instance: the flute down the hall, doing Till Eulenspiegel excerpts? PUNCH IN THE FACE. The clarinet who just started? He's my upstairs neighbour and he came and walked into my room for a five minute chat and afterwards his cologne (BECAUSE IT BETTER NOT BE AXE OR IMMA HAVE TO CUT A BITCH) lingered and then my reed had dried out and started to suck and that was the first two time I kicked my stand over. The violist next door? Whatever 20th-century piece you're working on is REALLY UNPLEASANT and I WANT YOU TO STOP. The violin across the hall? YOU ARE MY LEAST FAVOURITE. STOP PRACTICING HAFFNER. IT'S NOT HARD FOR YOU. THE ONLY INSTRUMENT THAT MIGHT HAVE IT AS BAD AS BASSOON IS BASS. YOU DON'T GET TO PRACTICE HAFFNER. SHUT THE FUCK UP.

Tonight's stats:
Times I've done violence to the music stand: at least four
Times I've shouted "MOTHERFUCKER": at least seven
Number of etudes I'm supposed to have prepared for tomorrow: five
Number of etudes I've worked on: two
Times I've burst into frustrated tears: one

FUCK IT I'M GOING HOME OKAY
sigmastolen: (Default)
Q: How is it that time passes so quickly during the day and most of the night, but when it hits around 4 a.m. suddenly the minutes draaaaaaaaaaaag by?

Q: How is it even possible that I still have not written that fucking paper? Fucking fuck fuck.
sigmastolen: (Default)
I have less than four hours to write a handful of journal entries for Eurhythmics (not a problem except for remembering what we did in each class), and a 5-page analytical paper on whether animal noises are music for Music an Nature (problematic, especially considering that I haven't read the relevant articles because I'm a lazy shit).

I have only myself to blame, for doing absolutely nothing the last five days except for playing bassoon and epically fucking around (oh, just one more chapter of this novel-length Inception fanfic) (oh, just one more episode of Battlestar Galactica). I still can't figure out why I do this to myself, except that I am, at the heart of things, a lazy shit.

Well at least the coffee's on now. Here goes nothing.

----

update - 9:40 a.m.

fuck how did the eurhythmics journals take forever? less that 1.5 hours now to hammer out 4-5 pages about animal noises, citing at least 4 articles which I have not read, using Chicago style which I have never really learned, only pretended to know.

Q: WHY THE FUCK DO WE SPEND SO MANY YEARS LEARNING GODDAMN MLA IF EVERYONE AFTER HIGH SCHOOL WANTS US TO USE CHICAGO STYLE?

also, i appear to be allergic to my own goddamn apartment again. FUCK EVERYTHING

so today

Sep. 18th, 2010 09:16 pm
sigmastolen: (Default)
1) I saw a CHIPMUNK! At first I thought it was a rat, because, well, UCLA.... But then it was a CHIPMUNK and it was scurrying around getting ACORNS because my school has OAK TREES and it came REALLY CLOSE TO ME and it was ADORABLE! !!!!! :D :D !! :D !!!111!!!!ELEVEN
and then I texted like five people about it. YAAAAAAAYYYYYYY

2) I was putting my bassoon away and I noticed that it is hella tarnished. Well, I mean, it's been tarnished for a long time, and I wasn't shocked or anything, but in rehearsal this week (or maybe last week) I glanced to my right (as I was playing contrabassoon at the time) and noticed that nobody else's bassoon is as tarnished as mine. So I spent half an hour going at it with a gold-and-silver polishing cloth (mum put it in my christmas stocking once. she thought i'd use it for actual jewelery, haha) and now instead of intensely black tarnish, the tarnished parts are a kind of gleaming brown. but I asked my teacher about it anyway, and she.... didn't really have any answers. Because my instrument is only about 6 years old, which is not old enough to have tarnish like it has, and my bocal definitely shouldn't be this tarnished because Heckel uses some kind of fancy finish, right? the bocal is a little pitted, as well, which seemed to worry my teacher, and which has niggled at me for a few years, I must admit. and the weirdest part of all this? the parts that should be the first to tarnish -- where my fingers go, duh -- are spotless. FUCKIN WEIRD EH? must ask John.

3) As I was standing in the hall playing Bejeweled on my phone, a percussionist -- one of my fellow first-year MMs who I've had a few conversations with, we have a class together -- nodded hello and ducked into his practice room. And then a few minutes later, came back out and asked, "Why is it that sometimes, you look different?" Apparently there have been occasions when I just... look really different. Like today, he almost thought I was someone Not Me. Um, what? The only answer I could provide was that, today, I had my hair in a ponytail, but I usually have it down (especially since our classroom is pretty damn chilly). And my eye makeup changes from day to day, but I didn't mention that part. I think it might be my duty to wear contacts this week and see if he still recognizes me, though. ALSO FUCKIN WEIRD EH? surreal.

4) So one of the first things that happened in my lesson was my teacher profusely complimenting my contrabassoon playing. We played Mahler 6 on Wednesday and she came to the concert, and afterwards she had hugged me about my contrabassooning, so I was really awkwardly flattered that she brought it up again. She asked if a contrabassoon job was something I would consider. And... I guess I would. I really, really do enjoy playing contra, especially for things like Mahler 5 or Mahler 6 or Petrushka where the part is just SO MUCH FUN. And I like the power and playing Lower Than Thou and I even like the breathing-muscles workout, despite the inevitable consequences of a sore back, knotty shoulders, and clicky wrists. So then we talked about options for buying a contrabassoon: apparently the school sometimes gives loans for these things? But I'd still better start saving if I want to be the proud owner of a contrabassoon.
4a) And then I called my mum and she was like, "well obvs we'd help you, you don't have to save all the money yourself" and I really can't figure out why it makes me so uncomfortable for my parents to offer me contrabassoon-sized sums of money. I mean, they're my parents, it's their job to take care of me. And yet, I'm legally an adult and I should be able to be responsible for my own finances. And also, I'm a student and should therefore be living frugally? Especially as I am a student without a source of income, at the moment. And also, maybe, it's a holdover from when we lived in Davis and really didn't have much money to spend, because daddy was in med school and therefore draining money instead of earning money. But now daddy has a job, and my parents are clearly comfortable spending money... But I'm still feeling weird about it. anyway.
4b) SPEAKING OF CONTRABASSOON: Maybe this is just me, but it seems like trumpet players are super fascinated by contra. As at UCLA, I sit directly in front of them when I play it, and as at UCLA, they were all, "dude that's so cool." After our concert on Thursday (also Mahler 6: same piece, different venue), I turned around and said, "I kind of love you guys," because they have been consistently AMAZING playing all loud and high and they have a really fantastic section sound, and being awash in it is just so. good. and the principal replied, "we love you more" and I giggled. Is this an all-contrabassoonists-and-trumpet-players-everywhere kind of thing, or is it just me/the trumpets I play with, or what? I WOULD LIKE TO HAVE MORE INSIGHT ON THIS MATTER.

okay dinnertiem nao, i has a hungr
sigmastolen: (Default)
Watching Blade Runner.

Dear filmmakers,

Why is the future always so damn poorly-lit? Get some fucking lightbulbs in there, Ridley Scott; maybe if I could see what was happening, I would be more engaged with your movie.

Love,
Sigma.

addendum

May. 23rd, 2010 02:31 am
sigmastolen: (Default)
p.s. I really really miss having fun. There needs to be a massive music party in the near future. Especially because there have been virtually no big music parties this whole damn year and music parties are fun (because I actually know people at music parties).

I can't host, but I'll bring a fuckton of booze, okay? Because I need to dispose of it before I move back home anyway. And most of it is good fucking booze. (you know, discounting the blueberry smirnoff that I have exclusively for use in pi-tinis because I'm not that into vodka and if I were it wouldn't be flavoured vodka although I can't tell you how intrigued I am by that ginger-infused SKYY shit. Does anyone have some that I could just try? I definitely don't want to shell out for a whole damn bottle.)
sigmastolen: (Default)
As is typical of me (and when did I become such a terrible student? Have I always procrastinated so excessively?), I am only now seriously getting to work on this shit. (I spent a long time this week letting myself be distracted and questioning whether I even gave enough of a damn to bother. (Honestly, the reasons I am bothering are these: I've spent five years and a lot of my parents' money to achieve this so I'd better finish what I started, and I'd rather have the credential and not use it than need the credential and not have it. But mostly the finish-what-i-started bit.))

I needed to have noise, though, so I turned on one of the many eps of Star Trek: TOS that I have collected in the DVR. And it happened to be "Space Seed," the first appearance of Khan. (You know, KHAAAAAAN!) And now I'm finding it difficult to mostly ignore the telly as I had planned, because, well, KHAAAAAAN!

And now I'm wasting time blogging about it and, just -- AUGH. Because this is totally breaking my usual philosophy of "if something is worth doing, it's worth doing well" because I'm not convinced this is worth doing but I'm doing it anyway, except with a fuckton of "I DON'T EVEN CARE IF THIS IS GOOD IT JUST HAS TO BE FINISHED" except FUCK I DON'T WANT TO DO THIS. I DO NOT WANT THIS. WHY. WHY AM I DOING THIS.

Because all I want to do right now (besides sleep) is watch Star Trek. And all I want to do in life is play bassoon and be a big nerd (redundant i know). NEITHER OF THESE THINGS REQUIRE ME TO FINISH THIS PROJECT AND GET A TEACHING CREDENTIAL. Although I suppose it would look pretty terrible for me to fail my student teaching (yes it's a class) because I didn't finish this shit. Carnegie Mellon would probably disapprove.

BUT I DON'T EVEN WANT THIS SHIT.
sigmastolen: (Default)
Me: OMG WHY CAN'T I GET ANYTHING DONE

[livejournal.com profile] doktor_quack: Usually when I ask myself that question, I go through a list of other questions to help me figure it out.
1) Am I on Facebook?
...

The list goes on, but in your case, the answer to that is yes.

[livejournal.com profile] doktor_quack: But for the sake of process, I'll go on.

2) Am I on wikipedia?
3) Am I on Google Maps?
4) Am I reading web comics?
5) Am I obsessively refreshing my inbox?
6) Am I obsessively refreshing my old inbox just in case?
7) Am I watching Youtube videos?
8) Am I looking at lolcats?
9) Am I looking at porn?
10) Am I staring at the wall?

If the answer to all of those are no, then you are beyond help. It's time to turn in your lifetime membership card to the Breathing Club.

[livejournal.com profile] doktor_quack: And when I say "sake of process," what I really mean is "Sake of Process," as in the Japanese rice wine.

------

haaaaaa haha ha hah. :)

In other news, I think I just decided to prioritize sleep over doing my project. It's not entirely because I'm out of coffee. Although that may be a contributing factor.

It possibly has more to do with the deadline having been... softened, if you will, from "Friday before 5!!!" to "by Sunday night." And it probably has quite a lot to do with my own ennui and lack of desire to do this anymore, despite my thinking I had been remotivated by Dr. Music Ed's pep talk this afternoon.

I'm also pretty sure it has at least a little bit to do with how very fucked I am. Because, guys, how fucked am I? 20-pages-fucked, plus video clips which I may or may not be able to cajole into a format compatible with Quicktime (or, as my brain just screamed at me, QUIKTIEM!!!). In other words, so fucked.

5 Things

Jan. 23rd, 2010 12:59 am
sigmastolen: (Default)
Thing 1: God, "Say Yes To The Dress" is such an insipid show. I can't stand Flatmate. Ew.

Thing 2: So I got new rain (and/or snow) boots! They're cute and warm and they don't leak and they fit well and they are very very slippery on (wet, freshly-waxed) tile, which I discovered two days ago. It's good to know you never grow out of falling on your ass. (But seriously, who decides to get the floor waxed during a rainstorm? What the fuck. Maybe the department chair has a hidden camera set up to watch us slip and fall.)

Thing 3: So the package that I was hysterical about yesterday? It arrived today. (The package that the hang-tag was for, apparently, was something else entirely which I did in fact receive.) So now I have cane soaking, and John worked his magic on my two existing reeds, and he fixed the leak in my D key. Yay! Whatever was weird about F-sharp in my lesson earlier this week, though, is still happening... so I don't know what that's about, because it's not a leak. I can feel something vibrating under my middle finger, though. Maybe I'm not holding down the ring key enough? "My fingers are tapered and feminine, your big man fingertips aren't simulating my problem" -- yeah, right. I must be doing something weird. *sigh*

Thing 4: OH MY GOD so tonight when I went back to school after visiting John, I went to practise in the studio because I also needed to do reed stuff. And there was this asshole jazz sax player who felt the need to practise LOUD in the dressing room right behind the studio. The dressing room which has no soundproofing because it was never intended to have people practising in it, but my school is too shitty and poor to build more practise rooms (also there may not be space because the practice rooms are fucking undergroung which by the way is incredibly depressing -- no windows :c ) so they opened the dressing rooms for our use when there aren't any proper rooms open, which is not the case at 10:00 on a Friday night, asshole. It was incredibly distracting, and frustrating, especially because every time I would stop to try to center myself, he would start playing LOUD again and it would ruin my efforts. I only had a small tantrum this time, though.... which is an improvement. The quality of my playing, however, is not improved. *double-sigh*

Thing 5: omg I'm so sleeeeepyyyyyy.
sigmastolen: (Default)
No cuts, sorry, can't be arsed.

So on Monday -- right? Yeah, Monday -- I ordered some cane from Forrest's, counting on it to arrive within a couple days so that I could try to make reeds for auditions (the first of which, by the way, is on the 30th of January, just over a week away). I don't know what all went on, but it apparently arrived hella fast and at some point on either Monday or Tuesday Flatmate retrieved a FedEx hang-tag from our door and pinned it to the bulletin board without mentioning anything to me (because I'm not obscenely busy or anything, surely I'll notice a two-dimensional rectangle's appearance somewhere I never really look anyway right away). Tuesday evening she was all, "oh, are you expecting something from FedEx? Yeah, it wasn't me so I put it on the board" -- I cannot roll my eyes hard enough -- and they were already closed by the time I noticed the hangtag (slightly before she got home and asked that) and Wednesday was superbusy, but today I got out of orchestra early and so I planned to come home and retrieve my cane and eat dinner, and then go back to school to practise and start some reeds. This evening, by the way, it is storming, and I don't just mean that in a pansy Los Angeles way. The television interrupted itself twice to warn me of flash floods and severe thunderstorms. It is bucketing the fuck down outside, and the thunder sounds almost like someone is banging into the Dumpsters in the alley right below my window, it's so close and loud. So my outing to the FedEx office was An Event. I left myself about 20 minutes to make the ideally five-minute trip, and when I found the place about 10 minutes before it closed, I had to circle for 5 more minutes to figure out where and how to park -- there was no lot, there were only spots on one side of the street and I was on The Wrong Side, I tried to turn down a couple dead-ends in the pouring rain because I was confused. And then I handed the guy my hang-tag and he couldn't find my package by the tag number, and so I gave him my address and he said it had been delivered. At 1:38. On fucking Tuesday. And the only possible conclusion I can come to is that someone stole my package -- signed for it and kept it for themselves. And the most ridiculous part is, it's cane. The only person for whom it could possibly be worth the $65 I my mum paid for it is me. (Or, you know, another bassoonist but there's no way there are two in one apartment building, completely by chance and without being aware of each other.

And so I spent about an hour in hysterics about that, because not only do I now have no cane with which to make reeds for my auditions, it fucked up my plans for the entire evening, and then when I called my mom to ask her what I should do, she yelled at me for having hysterics. And now it's nearly another hour after that, and while I really am not allowed to take days off from bassoon, I think I'm too upset for anything good to come of driving my ass to campus through the storm and locking myself in a room with my reeds that don't play well.

(I guess I should also mention that I had a frustrated tantrum while practising last night that started with swearing and lashing out that the music stand, and ended with me turning off the light and crying for 20 minutes curled against the studio door, followed by 30 more subpar minutes of slogging through my music. It's just -- things are still hard that should not sill be hard. I should not still be making the mistakes that I am making. And my lesson on Tuesday was frustrating in the same way, because I kept making mistakes that shouldn't be happening, and Steinmetz spent the whole hour telling me the same damn things I already know and I just get so impatient, especially since lessons like that have been happening so frequently this year.)

Plus today at the high school I was almost falling asleep during the period before lunch, which I'm sure is bad form when you're wearing a "STAFF" badge, and especially when you're sitting at the very front of the room, in full view of an 85-piece orchestra who are supposed to view you as a figure of (semi-)authority. So I think I'll just call it a shit-tastic goddamn night and go the fuck to bed. Maybe the cats will snuggle with me. Tomorrow I'll call John (I was planning to anyway, for some bassoon maintenance stuff) and maybe he'll rescue me.

p.s. I got contacts on Monday. Now I need to find it in me to go running. Because that was the main reason I wanted to get contacts -- so that I can see while running. And you know, I really want to run in the rain! I just don't want to do it at ass o'clock in the morning. Fuck my life.

eta;; And. And!!! I've just run out of contact lens solution. Which means I need to buy some before I can put them in tomorrow. At least I have time to do that before my chamber coaching? ... Fuck everything.
sigmastolen: (Default)
1. http://fuckyeah.org/ Apparently you call this phone number and leave a message for the internet, totally anonymously, about whatever is on your mind?

2. I found that website because I typed "fuck yeah" into the search field at http://www.ninja.com/, which is really just Google but in a pretty skin and "deadly accurate"

3. I also found a Neil Patrick Harris fansite. Fuck yeah! http://www.fuckyeahneilpatrickharris.com/ That man is beautiful.

4. So I... finished? mostly?... finished one project, which was a miniature version of the PACT teacher assessment thing I'll have to do next term. There was some stuff I very deliberately chose to leave out because I am a slow worker and still ended up sending the "here's my assignment! :D" e-mail 5-8 minutes late.

5. TOMORROW:
a.m. until 3ish?: The other project, a paper on who succeeds at school and why. Also, DON'T FORGET: driving directions to HS and MS
4pm: meeting with my Master Teacher for the rest of the year
4:30-somewhat before 7: observe Music Ed Advisor doing an orchestra clinic at the school where I will student teach
7pm: attend middle school orchestra concert to see My Bassoon Student :DDDDD
after 7pm: get my drink on with music ed peeps? Or that might be Wednesday, I forget.

6. WEDNESDAY: study the fuck out of constitution book, have early dinner with Violist P and My Favourite Junior (hopefully at Father's Office, mmmmmmm), Music Ed Get Smashed Party?

7. Thursday OR Friday, depends on progress of constitution studying and on whether I am hungover: Drive to CSULB at fuck o'clock ayemme, take citizenship test, drive back to UCLA, work in library.

8. FRIDAY: OMG MIA WILL BE BACK.

9. Gig this weekend with Proto-Doctor Grad Conductor's Korean Youth Orchestra, yay! I love earning money for playing bassoon.

10. ALL OF BREAK: PRACTISE THE SHIT OUT OF EVERYTHING. PROPERLY THIS TIME, EH?

---
p.s. 11. moar fuckyeah-related links!
http://fuckyeahsharks.tumblr.com/
http://fuckyeahtattoos.tumblr.com/ -- some of these are way too fresh for my taste, but mostly they look really cool. It does spook me a little when I can't tell what body part it is, though
and the rest of it is all team america, save for one unfortunate etched powerbook. :/
sigmastolen: (Default)
APPLICATIONS STATUS: 7/8 SUBMITTED (8th not due until 15 Jan omg)

*throws party*

and by party, I mean I'm announcing it to LJ, and in a few minutes I'm probably going to shift my clothes heap from my bed to my desk again, so I can go to bed, because it's fucking 1:45, motherfuckers.

Also, I don't think I even have to fill out applications for graduate assistantships right now, which is awesome. I hope my Kind Professors (particularly my bassoon teacher) submit all their letters of rec really soon.

DEAR MY HOMEWORK,
I'D LIKE FOR US TO GET BACK TOGETHER AGAIN. DO YOU WANT TO GET A DRINK SOMETIME, MAYBE?
LOVE SIGMA

p.s. My untimely crush on Orch Manager gallops apace. She's just... so cute. Plus, today she reassured me that Winston-Salem, North Carolina, isn't such a bad place to be, after Collaborative Piano Prof talked smack about it last week.


ADDENDUM @ FUCKING 2, MOTHERFUCKERS
oh gawd, did I really never post a list of where I'm actually applying?
1. Northwestern University Bienen School of Music - Evanston, Illinois
2. Roosevelt University Chicago College of Performing Arts - Chicago, Illinois
3. University of Michigan School of Music, Dance & Theatre - Ann Arbor, Michigan
4. Carnegie Mellon University School of Music - Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
5. Temple University Boyer School of Music & Dance - Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
6. Mannes College The New School for Music - New York, New York
7. University of North Carolina School of the Arts - Winston-Salem, North Carolina
8. San Francisco Conservatory of Music - San Francisco, California

Roosevelt is the one that isn't due today. Well, technically UNCSA isn't due until 4 Dec, Friday, but I've already finished it and sent everything in. *shrug*

*random shiver*
HOLY CRAP YOU GUYS IT'S SO LATE.
sigmastolen: (Default)
I'M COMPLAINING NOW OKAY

1) WTF UCLA LIBRARIES. NO ONE FUCKING USES THE MUSIC LIBRARY IN THE EVENING. WHY WOULD YOU THINK IT'S A GOOD IDEA TO SHIFT THE HOURS EVEN LATER THAN THEY ALREADY WERE? NOW THE PEOPLE WHO NEED LIBRARY MATERIALS FOR THEIR MORNING CLASSES ARE FUCKED, AND WE ALL HAVE TO CHANGE OUR SHIFTS TO ACCOMMODATE BEING OPEN UNTIL 8 WHEN NO ONE WANTS TO WORK THAT LATE AND WHEN NO ONE USES THE FUCKING LIBRARY.

2) OMG BUSYWORK CLASS. GTFO. SO BUSYWORK TEACHER HAD CAR PROBLEMS AT ASS O'CLOCK THIS MORNING WHEN SHE LEAVES FUCKING SACRAMENTO TO FLY HERE (AND WHY THE FUCK ARE WE HIRING TEACHERS FROM SACRAMENTO? DO WE REALLY HAVE NO ONE LOCAL WHO CAN DO THE JOB SHE IS FAILING MISERABLY AT DOING?) SO SHE TOLD US TO EXPECT HER TO BE 15-20 MINUTES LATE AND STATED SHE WOULD THEN MAKE CLASS GO 15-20 MINUTES LATE WHICH BY THE WAY IS AGAINST UNIVERSITY POLICY AND THEN SHE ARRIVED 35 FUCKING MINUTES LATE AND PROCEEDED TO HOLD US 40 MINUTES AFTER CLASS IS SCHEDULED TO END AND SHE KEPT TALKING AND ASKING PEOPLE QUESTIONS AND FUCK.

3) FLATMATE TEXTS ME TWO HOURS BEFORE MY CLASS ENDS, ASKING ME, "CAN YOU GET TRASH BAGS?" SHE'D CALLED ME EARLIER TO SAY SHE WAS COMPLETELY INCAPACITATED WITH SOME KIND OF TOOTH PAIN, W/E. I WAS TEMPTED TO BE A BITCH AND JUST FUCKING NOT DO IT BECAUSE, (A) FUCKING BUSYWORK CLASS = TERRIBLE FUCKING NIGHT, THANKS, AND (B) WHEN I CAME BACK TO THE FLAT ON SATURDAY, IT WAS TO FULL TRASH CANS AND A CUTTING BOARD ON THE COUNTER, BOTH COVERED WITH SHREDDED CHEESE (WTF I ASK YOU) BUT THEN I SUCKED IT UP BECAUSE HONESTLY IT ONLY TAKES 5 MINUTES TO DUCK INTO RITE-AID. AND THEN I GOT HOME AND SHE IS ON THE PHONE, PACING AROUND THE HOUSE, AND HANGING OUT WITH HER BF AND SERIOUSLY? RITE-AID IS LITERALLY ACROSS THE FUCKING STREET. THE ONLY WAY TO BE TOO INCAPACITATED TO TAKE YOUR ASS TO RITE-AID IS IF YOU LITERALLY CANNOT GET OUT OF BED.

FUCK.


SO YEAH.
sigmastolen: (Default)
1. FUCK CHRYSLERS. No, seriously. People who drive Chryslers CAN'T DRIVE. I can't decide if they're dicks, like Escalade drivers, or if they're just FUCKING IDIOTS. Tonight, getting onto the 405, I got stuck behind a Town & Country that was going, like, 20mph on the onramp. THE ONRAMP WHICH HAD NO ONE ELSE IN FRONT OF HIM BECAUSE HE WAS GOING SO DAMN SLOW. And, as icing on the cake, he signalled during the curve. WHERE THE FUCK ELSE ARE YOU GOING TO GO? THERE ARE NO INTERSECTIONS AND NO OTHER LANES YET. (As a side note, I'm getting into a habit of revving my engine to express my displeasure, and it's really bad for my gas mileage.) And then. AND THEN!! I was getting OFF the 405 and I was behind a Chrysler 300. AND IT ALSO SIGNALLED ON THE CURVE. And the worst part? The 300 DID NOT SIGNAL at the ACTUAL FUCKING INTERSECTION, where it turned right, and it DIDN'T EVEN TURN INTO THE CORRECT GODDAMN LANE. FUCK CHRYSLERS. Also, PT Cruisers are BUTTFUCK UGLY, even when they're not that HIDEOUS burnt orange colour, and IMPOSSIBLE TO SEE PAST.

2. So I almost had a panic attack at the beginning of orchestra today. It was awesome. I got spontaneously overwhelmed by the amount of shit that I don't have together: long-overdue midterm stuff, project due by the end of today (mostly done now), group project for busywork class FOR WHICH SHE DID NOT EVEN TELL US WHAT TO DO THEN DECLARED THAT SINCE SHE WAS ABSENT YESTERDAY WE HAVE TO E-MAIL THE ASSIGNMENT TO HER BY 5PM THURS AND SHE STILL HASN'T ACTUALLY TOLD US WHAT WE ARE SUPPOSED TO DO, short orchestra lesson probably Thurs am, two "first lessons" duedate unknown, reading for tonight and for Thurs am that I am not done with, scheduling group project meeting, scheduling chamber rehearsals, scheduling a coaching with a (grown-up!) composer whose bassoon-bass duo we are giving a west coast premiere!!, trying to find time to practise because i have OMG SO MUCH MUSIC TO LEARN, continuously back-burnering things that I Need To Do for the credential program, and OH YEAH GRAD SCHOOL. I was seriously fidgety and twitchy and hyperventilating and I almost cried or screamed or ran away, for about the first 20 minutes of orchestra and the 20 minutes beforehand... Except then I had to breathe deeply so that I could play contrabassoon, and eventually I got a grip. FUN TIMES, THOUGH.

3. Funny story actually, but I am a bitch: There's this asian chick in the socio-politi-cultural education class who Fails At Eyeshadow. No, I'm serious. She uses a really pale silvery-blue on her lids, then she puts this super-heavy black line in the crease of her eyelids that connects to both corners, and she doesn't make any effort to blend it whatsoever. She does this EVERY WEEK, presumably EVERY DAY, and it looks HIDEOUS. We've (the music contingent) muttered about wanting to fix her eye makeup on numerous occasions. Anyway, one of the other guys made a comment about sororities and how the greek system is really homogeneous and really white, and she piped up something like, "I just want to correct you on that generalization, because I was the face of [her college sorority]. We're not all white and blonde and identical." And all I could think was, "Really? You were in a sorority -- the 'face of your sorority,' (whatever that means) no less, and NOBODY taught you how to do eye shadow for grows-ups?" See, I told you I'm a bitch.

4. OMG BUT THEN as I was leaving the education class, just outside the building I saw this green thing on the ground and I stopped and looked and it was a PRAYING MANTIS and I took PHOTOS of it and it was in the middle of EATING A CRICKET!!!! So I'll put those up probably tomorrow because it was WAY COOL.

Okay, off I go for dinner and homework.

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