(Homer voice) mmmmm.... apple cobbler...

I left Schoenberg circa eleven tonight (masterclass, then practising piano stuff for theory tomorrow), and when I got back, all of DeNeve Plaza smelled of apple cobbler. Damn you, dining hall, damn you and your delicious aromas!

While I was out, I missed my floor picture. But that's okay, since I'm hardly even a part of the floor -- me and Sonja both. She knows more of our floormates than I do, though; I think there are only about four or five of them that I even nod to in passing. One of them is Adam the RA. One of them is Lauren from middle school. Way to be social! Go me! (I suck at life.)

In other news, I also suck at chords. This morning's harmonic dictation KICKED MY ASS.

But thanks to Charlie, my reed knife is nice and sharp, so that makes loads of things better. Also, last night's uprising seems to have quelled my computer's rebellious spirit, as it has settled back into its customary docile manner. So, yay!

Now I get to review Italian verbs, and then well-deserved sleep! or possibly reading Kant for my English (well, mostly philosophy so far) seminar.