sigmastolen: (WDCH)
30 Days of Classical Music
Day 07 - A classical music piece that reminds you of a certain event


Overture to Tannhäuser | Richard Wagner
(videos above: Chicago Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Sir Georg Solti)

Tannhäuser was the first opera I ever saw, so it occupies a very special place in my heart.  I actually saw LA Opera's rather infamous 2007 production during my second year of college -- you know the one, with the Venusberg populated by dancers wearing G-strings and nothing.  else.  Which, you know, also made the overture particularly memorable.

The entire production was really quite excellent, with a smashing cast and orchestra, LA Opera's signature minimal sets, and very striking and symbolic use of colour.  Wagner isn't my favorite in general, but Tannhäuser was such an important experience for me that hearing the overture brings me right back to that first time, sitting in the cheap seats in Dorothy Chandler Pavillion (iirc we were in the very last row of the orchestra level which sucks in so many ways but oh, the memories) and holding my breath in anticipation of finding out what's so great about this thing that we call opera.  It gives me shivers.

(my icon is the wrong part of the Music Center but w/e w/e)
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Bu which I mean, today is the first day of spring break, and to mark the occasion, I am apparently watching movies. At least, that is what I did today (you know, in addition to having rehearsal, practicing, and making reeds). (Netflix & Me: A Love Story)

In which I talk about movies: Black Hawk Down and Contact (and Shortbus) )
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After my second viewing, I can safely say that I liked it (shut up you guys, you know it's hard for me to tell with the HP films! I'm still flip-flopping on the fourth one!).

(FYI: I am in Chicago, spending the Thanksgiving holiday with my dad's cousins who live here! They're super cool. One has a baby named Malia who is pretty much the best thing ever: 1.5 years old, adorable, loves music, and so, so smart. She blows me away. Pictures later, maybe. Also: Today the two babyless cousins took me to the Art Institute of Chicago, which. Amazing. Pictures later, definitely. But omg my feet. And all this after an extremely fruitful two-hour shopping trip this morning -- things I now have: a winter coat (OH THANK GOD); warm, fuzzy, tall boots that actually fit my calves omg)


okay now the movie )

Things for which I am hoping in HP 7.2:
-- lots of flashbacks to cover all the plot they've skipped in the films so far
-- lots of flashbacks of young Snape & other grownups <3
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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.)
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1. AWKWARD STORY!!! So remember bull-like percussionist (BLP)? Okay. So, rehearsal goes from 3:30-6 with a break in the middle. The Tuesday before the concert, we had been rehearsing Mozart 39, on which I played first bassoon and he played timpani. When Maestro Z let us go to break, he released the trumpets and timpani because we would be working on the slow movement for the rest of rehearsal. So I was sitting in my chair, maybe noodling? probably just sitting, and BLP comes over and is all, "So, how about getting drinks after this concert? You're not going to space out again, right?" Which, BY THE WAY: THIS IS EXACTLY THE WRONG WAY TO APPROACH A WOMAN. Because I didn't see him coming, and he got all up in my personal space, and the wording and tone conveyed a sense of entitlement and resentment failing to pass itself off as a joke, as well as left me no way to tactfully decline.

So I did the only thing I could do: "Suuuuuuuuure," I replied. Cue awkward conversation that I don't want to be in, in which I also misunderstand about half of what he says because he mumbles. *eyeroll* Aaaaaand then he left and I spent the rest of the rehearsal having a small "OH GOD THE AWKWARD" freakout.

The rest of the week I was polite when he initiated conversation but honestly I avoided him a little and exaggerated my natural social awkardness because I really wanted him to take a hint.

(fun fact: at the next rehearsal, Maestro Z tried to correct something BLP was doing and instead of accepting it (or at least pretending to accept it, as musicians WHO WANT TO KEEP THEIR JOBS do all the time), he said, defensively, "I'm just trying to accommodate everyone else," or something to that effect. And honestly, if I had been interested before that, I definitely wouldn't have been afterwards. PROFESSIONALISM/REHEARSAL ETIQUETTE FAIL. NEGATIVE POINTS.)

So anyway, I contrived to bring Comrades K and R along and possibly some other people as well and make it clearly a JUST BUDDIES OKAY kind of outing. We played the concert (and BLP and I definitely didn't discuss this having of drinks during the intervening time) and I was chatting with the clarinets going offstage and while packing up. When we made our way out of the hall, I found my bassoon comrades, but BLP was nowhere to be found. The clarinets asked if we wanted to get frozen yogurt (I really like saying "fro-yo" but it looks so silly in writing), but Comrade K wanted booze, so we went to a nearby bar instead. Crossing the street on the way there, we saw BLP walking ahead of us with a cellist (who, hilariously, has a very similar build to mine, but she's blonde. well, I was entertained, anyway). I guess he got the hint? Which I guess also makes me a bitch, but I'm actually pretty okay with that. My Comrades and I had a beer with the grad conductors, who are all precious. BLP and I have had zero interactions since. Oops.

2. Grad Conductor J is Czech, and he is conducting the Stravinsky Septet, which I am playing in, for this Contemporary Music Ensemble concert cycle. His English is not great, and he mumbles a little, and makes hilarious faces when he conducts, and for some reason thinks it's okay to wear a white bow tie and red cummerbund with his black tux when he is conducting a concert... But it's kind of awkwardly charming, mostly because of his accent (and because he's pretty sweet, and definitely well-intentioned). Anyway, I'd really only spoken with him very briefly in class, plus one awkward mumbled conversation on a crowded bus, so hearing him talk as much as he does in rehearsal is a novel thing. It fascinates me. He keeps saying the word slowlier -- as in, "we take it a little slowlier" -- which is an adorable word-formation. I don't remember my Origins & Nature of English Vocabulary as well as I would like, and I left all my old notebooks in Long Beach (how's that for cutting the cord, yo? except I didn't get rid of anything, it's all in a box in my parents' house...), so I don't know exactly what neologistic processes are going on, but it's clearly a conflation of "slowly" and "slower," yeah? Cute. Also, he says "bassoon" with a fun accent. It's a little like "bassyoon" -- not pronounced enough to be umlaut-u, maybe a little like French u? As well as "wiolin" and always "celli" (never "cello"). It's fun.

3. The Stravinsky Septet is a lot more fun (and a lot easier to read) with more than four parts accounted for. No joke, for the first rehearsal last week (at 9 a.m.), I was the first person to show up, at maybe 20 of? Grad Conductor D, the CME manager, arrived soon after, and we set up the chairs (as we were doing so, someone from the rehearsal crew, which I guess is a work-study deal? they do set-up and tear-down for all the "large ensembles" -- orchestra, wind ensemble, and CME -- poked his head in but we were all, "we got this" so he left), and then Grad Conductor J came as well, and I warmed up. The violinist and violist were also essentially on time, so Grad Conductor D covered the piano part, and we started reading (we'd only gotten the parts scores (the parts are on back-order, bah) the night before, okay? I only remembered to pick mine up that morning). The pianist arrived 45 minutes late. The clarinetist and cellist never showed up at all, and Grad Conductor D had forgotten to put a horn player on the roster. This morning's 9 a.m. rehearsal had everyone but the horn, which, eh, not cool, but it was still much easier to put things together and get shit done. Yesterday's 8:30 a.m. rehearsal of the Stravinsky Concertino for 12 players was also pretty pathetic -- four people (violin, clarinet, oboe, trumpet 1) never showed up, trumpet 2 arrived halfway through the rehearsal, trombone 1 even later, and we started about 10 or 15 minutes behind schedule because we were waiting for people to trickle in.

I understand that this is college and it's hard to get up for things that early, but we are musicians and this is rehearsal. This shit? Is how grownups get FIRED. Dammit.

4. So I'm working with Tall Composer on a project for Research Seminar (which is something that happens to All Masters Students Everywhere, I'm told), because his joined-at-the-hip roomie is working with his new bestie, the oboist from my quintet. And it turns out he's kind of a douche (so props to you for calling it, Jeff). Best of all, it's in a way that reminds me unpleasantly of DIAF. Now I'm extra glad I decided I don't actually want to date anyone.

5. I am crocheting! I am crocheting "convertible" gloves -- the fingers are full-length, but they have a slit about halfway up, so you can stick your fingers out and be dextrous while the top of the finger flops around behind, and then when you're done you can be warm again! But you guys, I have remembered why I switched over entirely to knitting: crocheting sucks. Completely aside from the fact that I had to RE-LEARN EVERYTHING (except for how to chain, I guess), it is very slow going, and I have to look at what I'm doing all the time because I can't find where I'm supposed to stick the hook through by feel, and while the left-hand glove feels warm when I try it on indoors (it's the finished one; I've only begun the cuff on the right-hand glove so far), it is rather bulky and I'm sure the wind will cut right through all the GAPING HOLES that crocheting creates. Ah, well. I'm enjoying it well enough, I guess. And I LOVE the yarn I'm using! It's Elsebeth Lavold BAMBOOL (so named because it is 80% bamboo viscose and 20% merino wool) in midnight blue, to match my corduroy blazer (that it's probably already too cold to wear YAY). AND AND AND it's only $6.99 per 50-gram ball at the AWESOME AWESOME AWESOME yarn store near my flat, Knit One. It's deliciously soft (one of the owners confided to me, while I was checking out, that she had passed it off as cashmere in a hat for a friend, because they had no cashmere yarn in the colour he wanted), and pretty, and warm (I hope). MY NEXT PROJECT: convertible mittens (this is where it's "fingerless" (properly half-fingers, here) gloves underneath and a big mitten flap over the top) in a grey tweed wool, to go with my peacoat. And my trench. And, you know, everything. (Freedom Spirit by Twilleys of Stamford, $5.95 per 50-gram ball, score! srsly some of the yarn there, like the silks or the actual cashmere, was upwards of $30)

6. So it turns out I might be good at what I do? I always feel awkward when people compliment me. Which happened after pretty much every rehearsal for Mozart 39, be it from the clarinets, the grad conductors, or Lipstick Lesbian Horn Player (I like her, she's from NorCal and is pretty cool, even though Comrade P and Metal Oboist say she's a bitch. I suspect this is almost entirely because she does not like the cock). And now it's happened after a couple wind ensemble rehearsals as well (OH GOD WIND ENSEMBLE HERE KILLS MY SOUL. AS ANNOYING AS IT WAS AT UCLA, AT LEAST DR. DIRECTOR OF BANDS STILL LOVES HIS JOB), and Wind Ensemble Directator tossed off an awkward, "I love your playing," in rehearsal once (SO AWKWARD). And, while I am reasonably happy with the quintet I was assigned to this semester, I have been propositioned for next semester by three other groups so far: a trio wanting to become a quartet, the quintet that Comrade P is leaving, and a quintet that is trying to form (this one probably has the least chance of being graced by my presence, because the clarinetist is douchey and the oboist, though excellent and hot like burning, was one of the people who didn't show up to the Stravinsky Concertino -- although to be completely honest I really don't like the way the oboist in Comrade P's quintet plays. at all). So, uh. I seem to be in demand. Which is actually a little uncomfortable. But I really shouldn't be complaining, because, hey, the more I get to play, right?

7. Uh....... was there a 7? idek. WHATEVER, YO, IT'S 0040 AND I WANTED TO WATCH SOME BSG TONIGHT :\

8. OH BTW I WATCHED WHIP IT AND I LOVE LOVE LOVE ELLEN PAGE AND ALSO I WANT TO PLAY ROLLER DERBY AND BEAT THE CRAP OUT OF OTHER GIRLS IN FISHNETS AND QUAD SKATES.

9. DEAR APPLE: Photobucket WTF DOES THIS MEAN??? D: YRS, SIGMA
UPDATE: Photobucket WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?
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- Chemical Party Carbon is the hottest bear ever. (haha fucking hipster noble gases)

- An absolute gem from a site that has me screaming with laughter

- uh.... actually, that's all I got. BUT IT'S A GOOD ALL, AMIRITE?
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300? Yeah, I'm down with that. (Except for, you know, the uncomfortable sex and oracle scenes. And Gerard Butler's speech impediment.) I mean -- kickass fighting + epic historical setting + David Wenham + hordes of ripped, scantily-clad dudes. Duh. Granted, Zack Snyder is responsible for the movie and I have not yet read the graphic novel, but I've heard good things.

Sin City? Sure, okay. I mean, it's adapting his own graphic novel, which I liked well enough, and as much as it's not "my thing" as much as, say, superhero comic adaptations or Movies! In! SPAAAACE!, I totally dug a lot of things: how faithful it is to the look of the comic, the way the three stories aligned, via the bar and the farm, to take place in the same night (is it like that in the comic? I've only got the first one so far), the hordes of hot, kickass chicks (especially you, Rosario Dawson. You go, with your big guns and your BAMF sort-of-mohawk, and being the leader of all the awesome, deadly hookers), how utterly creepy Elijah Wood is, how we never in fact learn anything at all about Josh Hartnett's character. While I found the gratuitous violence torture porn distasteful, and I was really not all that into Bruce Willis and Jessica Alba's May-December romance, I did find myself really emotionally engaged with the movie.

But, oh god, The Spirit -- not so much. The comicification felt really stilted, instead of natural, the way it did in Sin City. And, sorry Will Eisner, but OH GOD THE NAMES WHY, WHY THE NAMES. "Silken Floss." "Sand Saref" (which I totally heard as "sans serif" for her first ten minutes in the film). Worst of all, "Plaster of Paris." GOD the Spirit sounds like such an IDIOT sensually murmuring "Plaster." I could almost go along with the hamminess -- it worked well for everyone except for the Dolans and Sand, and sometimes the Spirit started to take himself seriously and that jarred me out of it, too. Just.... oh god, it was so idiotic. Seriously, the bright spots for me were Samuel L. Jackson (because it's Samuel L Jackson, motherfucker), Scarlett Johanssen (because I will always love you, Scarlett. You complete me. The gorgeous hilarity of this role might even make me forget He's Just Not That Into You and Match Point (nope, sorry, Woody Allen, didn't like it. I think I'm just really not into infidelity. Because that was also what pissed me off about HJNTIY and Glee, although, oddly enough, I do love The Scarlet Letter)), the clones' shirts, and, most of all, that adorable tabby cat that follows the Spirit around. God, this movie was so... bizarre and nothing. It was totally a non-event. Except for Scarlett (and her phenomenal tits). Scarlett was definitely an event.

(I'd kind of like to know what real-life city Sin City's "Basin City" is a stand-in for. Because The Spirit's "Center City" is obviously Chicago, as Gotham City is obviously New York.)

To conclude: The Spirit = So mediocre it was bad.
sigmastolen: (mallow)
OMG you guys, I just softened my frozen butter by defrosting it in my microwave. I have been using this recipe for years, and have muddled through the quandary of how to soften the butter (which my family has always stored in the freezer, since forever, okay?) for just as long.

We have always had a microwave. There has always been the option to "defrost by weight." And, guys, it's so easy. It works so well.

You remember all that arrogance from a couple hours ago, about how awesomely smart I am?

I take it back.


------

also: I am mailing homemade cookies from scratch to a dude who I'm not even dating -- not even interested in dating. You guys, I'm seriously a really good girlfriend. What newspaper do I have to leak that to, to get some play already?

No! No, I should shut up, there is hope. Because Hot Tuba Guy is hot, and Cute Tall Composer is cute, and they're both really chatty. (Geeky Oboe Guy would be setting my standards too low, I think, and Bull-Like Percussionist is unfortunately not remotely my type...) (Am I allowed to date more bass players? Because there are a couple who are pretty attractive.) (p.s. dear cmu, where are you hiding the cute butches with fauxhawks? this is a demographic i sorely miss. yrs cordially, s.)
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You guys all know that fanfiction is perhaps my biggest vice, yes? More all-consuming even than booze or shoes (which RHYME OMG :D) and much more secret.

Most of the time when I have a deep attraction to a book, movie, or television show, I seek out fic. Inception was pretty much love at first sight (after it finished breaking my brain) and clearly since it opened there has been a veritable explosion of fannish activity, very much including fic. The Inception Anonymous Kink Meme, however, is so far disappointingly vanilla. Misspelled poetry? Not very kinky. "how x met y" ? Also not kinky. Saccharine fluff? Definitely not kinky. Somnophilia, genderbending, BDSM are all go, but what is with all the schmoop? Get it out of the kink meme. I don't inherently have a problem with vanilla fluff, but it belongs in some other, vanilla, fluffy comm. GAH, HONESTLY. To see what a proper kink meme is like, check out [livejournal.com profile] sizeofthatthing, [livejournal.com profile] kinky_torchwood, and [livejournal.com profile] touchyerwood.  Because Whoniverse fen are PRO at kink.  kthx.

uh.

Jun. 30th, 2010 09:19 am
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so i think i just had a sex dream with Thirteen and Chase. Uh.

(guh.)


eta;; so.... probably Chase. Maybe Wilson? The thing is, it was definitely Thirteen, though she not as involved in the actual sex, but she was definitely there and touching me and watching. And I don't remember who the man was. Possibly a faceless man with a niiiiiice package. So. What does that mean?? Specifically about my sexuality, really. (Less relevantly, the principals from House and I were taking some kind of trip through a desert in an outsize silver-twinkie RV.)
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So, I'm listening to the Savage Lovecast while OMG PACKING and I came across a scrap of paper that has apparently been languishing on my desk, folded into quarters, for a while. It says (in my unintelligible scrawl): see, the thing is our media and our society tells girls that they need to be pretty & popular & gossipy, but not necessarily smart. And it's AWFUL.

And it I guess ties into something I have been thinking about since at least December, since I came across a (privatelocked) LJ entry from when I was writing the paper for my SOCIAL JUSTICE!!! class in the fall that said:
women are not famous for being intelligent, or for high achievement, not the way men are. women are famous for being beautiful -- sometimes in combination with intelligence, achievements, or talents, but also outrageous and inappropriate behaviour, and just as often, beauty is the only trait that brings the woman fame. one of the world's great rarities is a famous woman who is not beautiful. Apparently I almost wrote that paper on girls and the media and how it tears them down.

And so this is something that's been kind of.... percolating in my mind along with a bunch of wangsty body image stuff I don't need to go into yet. And I guess I want to know, are these perceptions valid? Am I onto something here, or am I just projecting my own frustrations onto an academic facade?

And completely separate from these questions about ME ME ME, what is your take on women, fame, beauty, and the media? DISCUSS.
sigmastolen: (octopus)
1) Guys think I'm cool. They like to be friends with me. I'm smart, and good at what I do, and occasionally funny, and I tend to share their dorky interests. Guys don't think I'm hot (which, okay, I don't either, really, but I am pretty, and pretty cute, and occasionally pretty damn sexy); they don't want to date me. Mostly, I don't want to date them, either, but there are a few exceptions (at least one glaring one right now, whoops, sorry Anna I was mistaken when I said I didn't really want to hit that anymore), and honestly, it would be nice to be hit on by someone I'm attracted to -- or at the very least, someone other than middle-aged black and latino men. I'm an excellent girlfriend, and I'm told I'm good in bed, and I guess I'd like to know, what does it take to be taken into consideration? (possibly the loss of about 50 pounds, which is a goal of mine, but seriously, larger women than i are in happy relationships.)

2) Virtually all of my close female friends are gorgeous. Is this why I don't get male attention? When I'm out with Paula, or Malia, or Ali, or Anna, I'm definitely The Hot Girl's friend. Am I shooting myself in the foot, here? I also wonder if people see me out with my really gorgeous friends and wonder, how did she get into that group?

Man, I am all about the great self-image tonight. The funny thing is, I felt pretty gorgeous, all dolled up for the opera. And then it all went down the tubes.

(okay, okay, while i'm being self-indulgent: or has ethan noticed me? anna definitely wants to get in his pants, and eliz tonight posited that he's into paula, which i don't disagree with, but he flirts pretty ostentatiously with everyone, and i feel like we have chemistry. maybe. based almost entirely on our meagre interactions over the last two weeks. fuck it, whatever, i'm busy and i'll be going away to grad school soon. but you know, if i had a chance with umut i'd leap at that, too, so i guess if i have a chance with ethan... i dunno, whatever, fuck it.)
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Things which are unwise to do on a school night (when one must teach at 8 ayemme the next day):
Whiskey and Guinness. No, not Irish Car Bombs, although that was the intention -- it turns out that the apartments of underaged girls contain a woeful lack of shot glasses, though certainly not due to any teetotaling on her part. We shot the whiskey and chased it with Guinness, which was sort of a pity, actually -- Jameson is a beautiful, beautiful thing and should be savoured. It was also massively on sale tonight at Ralphs, and I'm already regretting not buying a bottle for myself. And now I must put my affectedly eloquent and totally-safe-to-drive self to bed, so my students don't suspect what kind of role model I really am tomorrow.

Yay!
sigmastolen: (omgcrab)
And now I'm having a beer and a shower, because if anyone deserves those two things, it's me. This weekend's List to follow!

o hai

Jan. 30th, 2010 08:14 pm
sigmastolen: (mallow)
this is kind of a placeholder for the EPIC POST I'm going to make about my Travels to Pittsburgh and the audition today.... after I take a nap.

P.S. IT'S COLD AS BALLS OUT HERE.

5 Things

Jan. 23rd, 2010 12:59 am
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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: (mallow)
WIN
- omg voice class with Super Cool Grad Mezzo is SUPER AWESOME FUN.
- I had my first really good practice session in about a month tonight. Yeah, my reed still sucks, and yeah, I'm behind where I should be on this music, but I didn't feel frustrated or angry, I didn't have any tantrums, and I actually did productive things and made progress. I'm not totally sure why.... I guess, one, I was still happy from voice class, and maybe I'm happy to be back? Happy to have a concrete schedule to work around, maybe, or happy not to feel like I'm disrupting other people's activities by bassooning in the house, or happy to feel like no-one is listening to what I'm doing? Eh, I'm just glad.
- My bassoon student got in to the middle school All-Southern and All-State bands! Yay!

Just there, like Caffino
- my first day of student teaching was okay, I guess.... I like my master teacher, I was a little annoyed at how resistant and disruptive and overly-familiar some of the students were, I'm a little intimidated by the thought of having to do a Teaching Event, I'm impressed by how good these kids sound, I'm worried about having enough nice-enough clothes to wear (omg so many geeky t-shirts, so few blouses, and even fewer that I don't have to safety-pin because the buttons gap across the bust), and I feel super super awkward and third-wheel-y, but I'm pretty excited to be there. I need to figure out what foods are good to pack for lunch, besides a sandwich and nuts and an orange or apple, because I will want variety very soon, and because I was definitely still hungry after my sandwich-almonds-and-fruit today.

FAIL
- I don't know when my bassoon lesson is going to be, because people already snapped up the times that I just discovered I will in fact be available. And none of them are answering the e-mails I've sent asking if they can change times.
- I am super super exhausted and it's not even eleven.
- Things mysteriously stuck to the kitchen counter: (1) tiny bits of red wax, all over -- they smell faintly of cinnamon and must be from Flatmate's gross cinnamon scented candle, but I can't imagine how teeny tiny bits came to be all over the damn counter -- and (2) what appears to be a dried smear of egg white, plus a bit of brown eggshell, you know, like the overpriced eggs Flatmate buys and occasionally, inexplicably, leaves in the freezer for months on end. RAW EGG. RAW EGG DOES NOT BELONG ON MY COUNTERTOP. THAT IS NOT SANITARY. WHO SPILLS EGG AND THEN DOESN'T WIPE IT UP? OH YEAH, FLATMATE DOES.

But seriously, who does that? *pout*

when I called my parents last night to let them know I didn't crash the car and die on my way back up here, my dad admonished, "be nice to Flatmate." And I was like, seriously?? I am nice -- that's why I have so much rage; my anger has no outlet so all it does is build up and then make me bitch endlessly about it when I get home. AAUGH.

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