chill out man!

Whoa there, loud typer. Hit the keys any harder and you will go through the desk. Seriously. Take your anger out on something soft and quiet, like a pillow or a marshmallow or something.

Daaaayaam.

how i waste most of my time on the internet these days

[Genius that is my asshat roommate has somehow managed to not pay the cable bill for two months- which is why our internet keeps going out. So here I am at the library again.]

Webcomics are fun! I am currently hooked on several:

Dinosaur Comics. Just like, maybe the funniest thing ever, and so delightfully weeeird!

Queen of Wands. Katie got me into this one. Start at the beginning for it to make sense.

Friendly Hostility. Also helps if you start at the beginning, although there is a huge temporal jump in the middle and all of the sudden the kids are grown up. They're cute, though.

Sluggy Freelance. Jamie introduced me to this one. It's really nerdy. But cool. ;)

Hello Cthulhu. On Friday Ally IMed me with this crazy Hello Kitty spoof and we spent the next hour giggling over it. And...they say "chuu!" hehehe.

Any others you'd suggest?

yawn

Drip drip drip says the Dallas sky and all I can bring myself to do is sit in bed and read. It's nice. It'd be nicer with a lover, which is not to say that I don't have one, except that I don't really know what's up with that quite yet. Other than that I am often struck absolutely powerless and dumb by tenderness involving hand holding. Oh. It tingles. I could go on that sensation all bloody day without eating.

I went out with Tim and Allison last night; we watched KU kick the shit out of Texas on the basketball court. The beers were expensive but large, so I guess there's some sort of payoff there. Anyway. They came over to my place and Tim picked out Edgar Meyer tunes on my mandolin. Pandora loved them. I love them because they bought me a case of Shiner and left it here. And that they are offering to host an evening of Mahler 5 and Leinie's Oktoberfest (which they smuggled down here after their last visit north).

Anyway, Jamie came, Tim and Al left, Jamie left, and I stumbled up to bed. Like usually happens with me and the beer, I awoke frighteningly early with a pounding hangover and what appeared to be a lack of intention of getting back to sleep. It happened eventually- I just wasn't happy about the interim. So I've spent the rest of the day finishing my book and resisting the urge to move onto the next. Praciticizing has been accomplished. A short listening-to-the-rain inspired nap has been taken care of and checked off my list. Now I'm just waiting for someone to call me.

one mystery solved

One of these days, I will break free of reliance on my parents, financially, but until then...yeah, I will take that ticket to Minneapolis. Thanks much.

Anyway, I'll be paying them back as soon as I finish with all the apartment hunting crap- since a deposit on an apartment is about the cost of a plane ticket- and get my deposit back from my current place of residence. And I'd better damn well get all of it back, meaning if I don't, Douchebag is reimbursing me for whatever pet damage they take out of it. Of course it doesn't help that I've ran my bass trombone case into the walls (unintentionally, I swear!) a few times, but that's nothing some toothpaste and a little white paint can't fix.

Douchebag also bled my finances this month by running the electric/heating bill up to $180, which at least has had the beneficial effect of his realization that yes, heat is expensive, and no, you shouldn't leave it on all night. I'm fucking freezing right now, though, and it's so tempting...but no. Soon enough I will retreat back to my room and re-cocoon myself in my sleeping bag, which is the only thing capable of keeping me warm right now. My quilt works for shit in that department.

I don't know why I always bitch about money. I'm okay, really I am. It's just a pain in the ass, all these bills and necessities, and I'd rather not think about it. I hate it when people bitch about money. So I'm going to stop now.

But it's still fucking cold as balls in my apartment. I have no problems whatsoever with people bitching about temperature. In fact, I maintain that for this post, as well as the one from earlier today which I am too lazy to link to, should remain open threads for general grousing and bitchiness. Go to!

jubiliant ben folds fan seeks new record, remastered earlier work

My friend bickle (who shares a birthday and a passion for piano rock with me, and has cute kids) from the OTJ Forum has alerted me to the release of a new Ben Folds album, Songs for Silverman, due out April 26th. Whatever and Ever Amen is also being remastered and rereleased with bonus tracks!

Rejoice! I *heart* Ben.

i lose at the internets

I'm at the library for my internet fun and games today because I can't seem to access anything at home. The little computer symbol is blinking and it says it's connected, but it won't open anything. This means that if you sent an email to my Gmail address, I can't read it. The library is lame that way. I'm getting kind of sick of that server anyhow. It certainly has its moments, but not being able to open it from restricted access computers is definitely not one of them.

Dallas is cold and wet today, so I am groggy and out of sorts by default. Katie can't make it for the Ani concert now, so while I am still looking forward to it, a little bit of the sparkle next weekend had promised my otherwise matte finish life is gone. Le sigh.

So, you can do one of two things for me: either bring me some cheer, or bitch with me about whatever's bothering you. I'll take either, and both gladly.

disappointments

A: My Ani ticket is up for grabs again. :(

B: Where is my Shins CD? Shit. I have to stop this putting CDs in the wrong cases when I'm in a hurry business. Of all the CDs I could misplace, it has to be one of my favorites.

oh...uh...i...uh...oh.

[What is it, Simon? I'm arranging matches.]

Sometimes, when I go a day or two without a blog, it feels like ages to me. This is because I generally have some inspiration to post and thus do so two or three times a day. So when I take a break, I always feel like it's been forever. I get the urge to say something like "blogging will be light from me for the next few days while I recouperate from teaching/Texas/attack by space monkey." But then I always end up posting again the next day.

Anyway. I still really don't have anything interesting to say. Here's what's new with me, though:

1. I counted today- I have 27 students. This surprised me; I thought it was less.

2. I found this great apartment last week, applied, put down a deposit, and then was told that they might not have a shorter lease than 12 months to offer me. That won't work, what with my going to grad school (hopefully) and all. So I'm waiting to hear from them as to whether they can manage a shorter lease for me, and if not I will have to start the hunt again. Le sigh. I hate this shit.

3. Lots of my kids are sick. My throat is scratchy and I'm sleepy all the time. If I'm going to get sick, I want it to happen now (like, right this instant) so that I can recover in time for next weekend.

4. My new friends Tim and Allison are teh awesome. Tim teaches horn at two of the schools I work at, and Allison took over trumpet lessons at LCHS when Chris left. They are both alumni of St Olaf, with music degrees and very strong opinions on beer. I love them to pieces already. Last night we hit up a microbrewery for $1 beer night, which I think will have to become a tradition (let's call it- Wednesday Night Anti-Texas Society), and shot the shit for about three hours. Turns out Tim plays mandolin too, and Allison's thick Wisconsin accent makes me crazy homesick. I said something- I think I was in the middle of my rant on parents giving me blank checks- and Allison was nodding and laughing, and Tim said, "Man, I can so tell both of you are from Wisconsin." Deep Ellum on Saturday and lots more good times ahead.

5. All of my students from here on out will be getting ear training and intensive rhythmic practice from me. It is my personal duty to send my kids out into the world prepared for musical challenges beyond high school. In particular, I must strive to shatter the stereotypical tuba player image- bad rhythm, inaccuracy. They'll thank me when they're older. Any suggestions on how to make it less painful that it seems?

6. Schmu.

excellent timing

Check out Dinosaur Comics today. A humorous follow-up to yesterday's bullshit science debacle.

Sort of. Anyway, I've just been looking for an excuse to link to Qwantz again because it is teh awesp,e. It is an exciting opportunity is all.

and we have a winner

You all lose, and Katie is officially my favorite friend ever. Next weekend she will become the first person to visit me since I moved to Texas. Not only will I treat her to the Ani Difranco show, but we will also sample the best that Dallas has to offer (that shouldn't be too hard to figure out) in nightlife, culture, and scenery.

It's gonna be awfully fun to sit in my room and giggle with someone at the melodious sounds of roommate sex, finally. After a while, giggling to yourself loses its original flair.

Hurray!

Yes, and this means I must round up my Dallas posse (Jason, Manoj, Jamie & Co., Leon) so that we can hit the town in style. Please clear your schedules. :)

want.

Chocolate.

Mmmm...

Off to the store to buy "break and bake" cookies (two batches for $5!). And maybe a bag of chocolate chips to eat while I'm waiting. Hehehe.

oooh! gender "science"!

New study: Women are worse drivers and map readers because of hormones. Or something.

Oh wait. It's because of how much shorter our ring fingers are. According to a study done of forty students.

Er, how many again?

Say, I have small hands. You might even call them stubby. I was wondering the other day just how that affected my driving, exactly. Because I've always said to myself, especially when surrounded by the legions of Texans who drive so politely and intelligently, why, just why I couldn't manage to turn on a car properly and turn left. I am not an ambi-turner. Meanwhile all of my guy friends and long-fingered lesbian companions seem to do just fine. And maps. Jesus! Maps. Such a complex conglomeration of lines and words it boggles my poor little female mind. I often cry from frustration when I see one.

Wasn't there something I heard once about young men having higher insurance rates because they statistically cause more accidents than women? Was I dreaming that? And if it's true, how does that make them better drivers, exactly?

Raise your hand if you are tired of bullshit science. Mine's been in the air for ages. Is this the kind of stuff that gets money instead of stem cell research and the cure for AIDS?

I'm sorry. I remember now. Curing AIDS would help out a shitload of people in Africa, and also gay folks, and in the wise words of Eddie Izzard, "we've been trying to kill you for ages!" Science is way more fun when it "proves" stereotypes- and goddess forbid the American public or the public in general do any real, critical thinking about those kinds of things. We might have...some sort of revolution on our hands. Gee.

Link via Echidne of the Snakes.

sweet jesus!

Y'all know how much I like sleep? Like, really, reeeally, reeeeally like sleep? So much so that I often forgo adult responsibilities in order to ensure that I am not a total raving lunatic from lack of it?

Well, if you do, then you'll know how much this compliment means to me:

"You're way more fun than sleeping."

That's seriously the coolest thing anyone's ever said to me. I mean it. Honestly. Girl Scout's honor. More fun than sleeping?! That's, like, way fun, man! Whoa. :)

Heeee.

speechless.

Heather's photography for January 19th is stunning beyond words. I love this woman.

Also:

Pamie's wedding post is finally up. I can't think of two people more deserving of marriage and love and each other, and I don't even know them.

Feeling saccharine today. So shoot me.

because i can

I republished the archives and spiffied up the template for We Have Cute Butts, even though it's pretty much dead. There is still some quality writing on there that deserves archiving. Anyway, the original reindeer thing had long since disappeared and it was getting on my nerves that you couldn't peruse past posts.

My favorite WHCB moments (although I cannot link to them at the moment, because Blogger won't cooperate) are:
-Jerry's Underpants-less Summer
-My MST3K-style Movie Rant
-Jerry's Me-Inspired Poetry
-Jerry's College Students Should Not Have Dogs Rant
-My Scientific Exploration of the Johnny Depp Phenomenon

I'm in a revival mood these days. Now, I really want the Top Five thing to take back off, so bug Davis. She's got all the power on this one.

mikey's got a brand new blog

[I ought to be slapped for that post title.]

Mike Zens, my comrade-in-brass-quintet-arms from UW and one of my favorite people on the planet, used to call this his home on the internet, but now it is here: I'm Not Creative...

Is the title of your blog referring to your uncreativity regarding blog titles? Or are you so convinced that as a whole you are not an inspired individual? I would beg to differ on the latter, and I would even go so far as to say that "Yo", the word at the top of your previous blog, is some kind of genius. :)

At any rate, he's only got two posts up at this juncture, and one of them poses the following:

Clark County, NV, home to the breeding ground for vice known as Las Vegas, is expaning at the rate of 5,000 new residents per month. That is astounding. Thus, the Clark County School District is in dire need of teachers. For the 2004-2005 school year, the district hired 1,300 new teachers and opened 10 new schools. For the 2005-2006 school year, they are projecting to hire upwards of 2,000 new teachers and open 13 new schools. This district already has 31 high schools. Their salaries are very attractive, especially considering Nevada residents pay no income tax. The government receives so much revenue from gambling and touism that they don't need to tax income. If you move from outside of Nevada, they even give you a $2,000 "signing bonus."

You don't even need a teaching degree to teach there, just some kind of bachelor's degree.
...
Here's my idea. Chris, Lorn and I should move to Clark County, get jobs at the same brand new high school, and start a program from scratch. What do you think?

Do you think you get Chris to stay long enough to establish a program?

(I kid...I think. :p)

Ok, I'm not a fan of Las Vegas, although I do have some fond memories of running amok there on Pep Band trips (you never know how much havoc you can wreak in Excalibur until you actually try...), but this is something to consider. Now, Mikey's got most of the actual education/program running experience, whereas Chris and I are performers who teach. Actually, that designation bugs me a little, since I think everyone has to be a teacher in some aspect of their musicianship to really learn what it is to be...well, a musician. I think running a real program could be some hardcore biz experience, almost to the point where it scares me a little. Still...I'm going to sound a little dorky here, but...the process of building and organizing and setting up something that's going to last, and have a legacy, excites me. It is right up my proverbial alley.

As I told Mike already, should I repeat the fabulous "failing to get into grad school" debacle of last year, for which the odds are in my favor (or against my favor? the odds are in favor of my repeating the debacle, in other words), this could use some serious thought. How long do we have to decide? What kinds of musical experience should I start boning up on? Shouldn't we bring a woodwind player with us? Can we have a brass quintet again? Promise we won't kill each other?

filler

I'm still alive, although for some reason I feel half-dead. So help me, if I get sick... so many kids have told me they or their siblings have had the flu this past week, and I just ain't down with that shit. I haven't been sick since the summer, long before I left for Texas. That's an official record in my book. Usually I'm all over the common cold. My body has a strong predilection for making sweet, sweet love to the common cold. So, I guess I should count my blessings on this sickness sabbatical.

Anyway. Here are some song lyrics that have a) made me think of someone in particular b) made me sad c) applied to my situation or d) summed everything up in a nice tight package. You can guess which is which, and then leave your own relevant lyrics in the comments.

1. Ani Difranco- Shrug

are you just at home now with the way that you act
do you split the rent there with all your secrets
or do you just pretend to all your friends
they're uninvited guests

yes and when you want it tidy tell me
can you still dispel me
sweep me neatly under the rug
does your conscience ever mention
the way that you treat me
or do you just fend it off with a...shrug?

2. The Decembrists- Red Right Ankle

This is the story of the boys who loved you
Who love you now and loved you then
And some were sweet, some were cold and snuffed you
And some just laid around in bed.

Some had crumbled you straight to your knees
Did it cruel, did it tenderly
Some had crawled their way into your heart
To rend your ventricles apart
This is the story of the boys who loved you

3. Ani Difranco- Phase

i'll be your biggest fan
i will be your fool
i'll be your exception
to whatever the rule
and i ain't the type to bitch
i ain't the type to cry
i'll sit at your red light and wait
for your shit to go by
and this vague little smile
is my all-purpose expression
the meaning of which
i will leave to your discretion

4. Elliot Smith- Pretty (Ugly Before)

Sunshine, been keeping me up for days
there is no night time, it's only a passing phase
and I feel pretty, pretty enough for you
I felt so ugly before, I didn't know what to do

sometimes is all i feel up to now
but it's not worth it to you
cos you gotta get high somehow
is it destruction that you require to feel?
Like somebody wants you, someone that's more for real

sunshine, been keeping me up for days
there is no night time, only a passing phase
and I'll feel pretty, another hour or two

underclassmen, meet trashcan

I can't get my students to understand the importance of standing up for performances. They all look at me like I've asked them to pluck out one eyeball and eat it with ketchup. One kid even said, "no." Just "no." in the manner of, "you are nuts and I refuse." "No."

Jesus. I don't even like practicing sitting down. I get antsy in rehearsals. I like to walk around while I play. And I like having room to move and room for my lungs to expand. And then there's this:

You should never, ever, I-don't-care-if-your-leg-is-broken-you-bastard, play the trombone sitting down in a performance.* NEVER EVER NEVER! No means no. Never. Stand the fuck up.

Because:
-You can breathe better
-You have more room for movement
-You can communicate with your pianist more efficiently
-You command the stage in a more authoritative fashion
-You look like you play the trombone with confidence and strength, regardless of how you actually end up playing
-Projection, projection, projection
-You don't suck as much.

Aaaaarrggggh!

Next lesson in my new series of performance pet peeves: Tuning on stage, the devil's unholy spawn.

*With the exception of Elegy for Mippy II, of course

trombonology

I'm confirmed for my Minnesota audition on February 26th. Huzzah! Except, how to get there? Flights right now are at $225. That's not too bad- but remind not to spend anything except rent until then in order to afford it.

Exhibit A: my bass trombone.
Exhibit B: the valve section.

Scenario: I have had this horn for four years, and NEVER have I been able to figure out how to get the damn valves apart so I could spiffy out the inside and put in fresh oil. See, you're supposed to take it all apart and clean it every so often, which is easy enough to do on my tenor but on the bass is like a frigging IQ test. And as we all learned in Madison this year, I can only do those when I'm drunk. I would prefer not to have to get drunk to perform maintenance on my $4000 bass trombone.

Anyway, I finally figured it out this morning. I was doing what I usually do before I give up and just send the oil down the tuning slide, but today I was particularly determined to do this thing. A few twists, a couple of turns, and one bright idea later, viola! My valves are finally separated and I can take each of them apart.

Yeah, there was some green shit in there. I am pretty lazy about maintenence sometimes, but I always get around to it...eventually. But Bernard is all clean and happy now, nobody's sticky or cranky, and things are working smoothly.

All this and it only took me something like two hours. Jesus. No wonder I always gave up.

naturally...

Things I should be doing instead of blogging a list about things I should be doing instead of blogging:

-Finish UNT application Update: all of it is done. Go me.
-Apartment hunt That's quite enough of that.
-Practice (bass, since tomorrow night is jazz band night) More later. Enough for now. The Aharoni book can kiss my ass.
-Call parents of kids Gerry wants me to teach, bug about scheduling private lessons
(my conflict over not doing this one immediately is that it is MLK day and they might be home. I'd much rather leave a message because when I actually talk to parents, I come across as completely vapid and inane)
-Select orchestral excerpts for Minnesota audition
-Email Thomas Ashworth about Minnesota audition, questions, and possible lesson
-Email JK about UNT audition, questions, and DEFINITE lesson
-Return movies
-Figure out what to do with myself tonight that isn't reading, watching a movie, or wandering around the apartment aimlessly wishing I had more friends and/or enough money to leave the house and experience all that...Plano...er...has to offer...*cough, hack*
New! And already completed!:
-Eat lunch/dinner whatever the hell you call whatever you end up eating at 3:30 in the afternoon.

Ready? And....go!

official apology

I am hereby banned from blogging at 2 in the morning under the influence of Prokofiev. In order to make it up to you, I want to share the two following hilarious things that Jamie's friend Tyler said last night. Enjoy!

Musician joke #1:
Tyler: Do you ever notice that people are always giving away their oboes? A $500 car and an oboe? Sweet!

Musician joke #2:
Me: I wish I had a euphonium.
Jamie: I don't think I've ever heard those words together in a sentence before.
Tyler: Euphoniums are so nice though.
Me: Yes, they're very euphonious.
Tyler: There was a cacaphonium, but it didn't fare very well.

i guess i could just use a hug

Instead of that hug I will be listening to Prokofiev's Battle on the Ice from Alexander Nevsky at full volume while lying on my back staring at the ceiling. If anyone actually tried to hug me right now I'd full on bawl. Nobody wants that- except me, because then I might be able to shake this feeling outta my bones for good. Or at least prolong the non-shittiness for a while.

how was everyone's day?

Did you all have a good day? Was it nice and sunny outside like it was in Dallas? Did you get the shit kicked out of you by happiness? Or was it just living as usual and you're fine with that? Can you see through my forced cheerfulness like cheap veneer?

I miss my roommates. On days like these, when the Prokofiev wasn't helping, Emily, Bethany and Davis would dogpile me on my bed and hold me down until I felt better. Nothing in the world beats a gang of girlfriends. Nothing.

ani fucking difranco...

I have an extra ticket available for Ani's Dallas show on February 3rd. $30- General Admission.

Of course, if you're special enough and you come to visit me for the weekend, I'll take you to the show for free- just like I was going to do for Megan, until she bailed on me (just kidding darling- I understand. But you will come to see me soon, you hear?).

I know, I know- Dallas isn't your first choice for a vacation destination. Don't knock it, though. There's charm here. There's the Women's Museum, Deep Ellum, and a quality gayborhood. Like jazz? Yeah, UNT is just up the road. And there's more steak houses than you can shake a stick at (I won't be joining you in shaking the stick; however, I will be more than happy to drive you there).

And of course, there's me. Anywhere there's me, there's bound to be fun. You know this, I know this. Let's not continue to fool ourselves into thinking otherwise.

< / self-congratulatory ego-trip >

wOOt!

In my mailbox today, from Tom:

Hello everyone. Just a reminder that the North Lake
Evening Jazz Ensemble will begin to rehearse next
Tuesday, January 18th. Hope to see you all there!

Sweet! My Tuesday nights go back to being fun again, and my bass trombone gets some lovin'.

whaa?

As long as I am bitching, and as long as Jerry is warming up that ball-kick surprise for my roommate, what do you think?

If one party has a personal pet peeve or cleanliness issue that they like to see addressed, isn't it just common courtesy that said party should manage the problem on their own?

For example, I don't much like the cockroaches in the kitchen myself, but I don't see what that means that I have to do the dishes every night. They're still going to be there regardless of whether the dishes are done or not. They are tenacious. They are cockroaches. You can't kill the things with nuclear war, for crying out loud.

Besides, I don't kill things. Buddhist, remember? And maybe I don't like it when people spray Raid on my kitchen counter. Just a thing, I've got. Sorry. Didn't mean to be pushy or unbearable or anything.

I'm just being bristly because someone giving you a mandate is mighty uncomfortable and insulting, especially when your record of roommate consideration is otherwise spotless (oops- excuse me, there's something on the corner of the screen there. Lemme get that off), but I'm pretty sure that's still a stupid thing to ask. "Hey-we're going to do the dishes every night because I don't like cockroaches in the kitchen" makes me wanna scream, "that's your own bloody issue, now, isn't it? So how's about you do your dishes every night and I'll do mine when I mo'fucking please?"

It's enough to make me wanna take a swing at someone. Seriously.

don't you want to hang out with me? i am, like, sooo entertaining right now

I just started crying in Chipotle because Bust's "Around the World in 80 Girls" article this month is on Dallas. Because, that's where I live! In Dallas! And for some reason this doesn't bother me anymore!

And then I got all teary reading the interview with Tori Amos.

So I had to laugh like hell when the guy came up asking me if I'd like some more soda, because I was totally sobbing over a magazine.

Christ, I love my girly hormones.

miscellany (my favorite word)

The Good:
-Three new students today and lots of kids paying me on time means I'll be able to make rent for next month, and maybe even manage a deposit on a new apartment for March. Still kinda curious as to how I'll get up to the Cities in February to audition, though.

-April 15th, Washington DC: Marisa's bachelorette party. Sweeeeet.

The Bad:
-One of my left upper molars is giving me shit today. Like, hardcore tooth-hurty shit. A thought occurs: it may have been a while since I last visited the dentist.

-When my car does funny things, I get upset. Car, I specifically told you to behave and be good. Mommy can't afford you getting all primadonna on me now that you're 76,000.

The Slightly Obnoxious:
-I had asked the roommate if he'd be up to cancelling our cable subscription a while back, and he said he'd go ahead and do it. Only, when I got back from Madison, we still had cable. Well, I figured I'd not pay for it, since I haven't watched TV in what seems like ages (even my precious Daily Show, and I can get snippets of it on the internet). So last night he asks me if I'm still splitting the cable bill, and I said no, naturally. Also, said bill has gone up to $90 for cable and internet. The hell? Anyway, he pulls this fancy little manipulative card on me: apparently since I have access to a DVD player and a TV, I should split the bill still. Pardon? Pardon McWhatthefuckpants? A + B = You are a complete dumbass? I mean, for the use of these things I split the electricity bill, not the cable bill. I repeat: have not watched cable for nearly a month. Long story short, roommate is moving TV and various movie-watching accessories into his bedroom after my 80s Muppet Fantasy Movie Night (which is tenatively scheduled for this Friday, January 14th). Awesome. Please see me for instructions on how to finance my acquisition of product below.

The "Oops I Crapped My Pants":
-Apple is now offering something so tantalizingly wonderful and sexy that I feel I might just have to take out a loan to get one. Did I mention it would solve my internet troubles? Introducing: the Mac Mini. Thanks to Ally for jaw-dropping awesomeness, as usual.

Ok, who needs a drink?

who's in?

Davis has stopped blogging, but does that mean she'd avoid the Top Five Blog as well? I'm kinda in the mood for a revival.

I don't have admin privileges on the things, so Davis's participation is pretty much a necessity.

Thanks to Chris for the idea.

holy mother of pizza

I am hurtin' today. Some ungodly thing has taken tight hold on my uterus and is chewing on my ovaries. Back to bed for me!

But before I go, I just have to say: my favorite thing lately is to have a band director's eyes light up when I walk into the room, followed by them rushing up to me and asking, "do you have room for more students?"

Oh fuck yeah. Lots of room.

I'm doing the "I have three more students" dance right now. After which I will double over in agony.

Laters, gators.

the mirror lied to me

As much as I try, earnestly, to avoid beauty standards and practices in this particular era of social norms (to the point of sticking my fingers in my ears, closing my eyes, and going "la la la"), sometimes it's hard not to let it get to me. This is why I often end up taking weird, poorly focussed pictures of the pieces of me I actually like (my right eye and feet, for example) just so I can feel like part of me is special.

Most of the rest of the time I incessantly run Ani's line from Evolve, "it took me too long to realize that I don't take good pictures because I have the kind of beauty that moves," through my head. Go inner feminist, go! Fuck your facist beauty standards! Fuck 'em, I say!

Other times I just think about that scene in Eternal Sunshine, where Clementine is talking about the doll she had as a kid. That makes me sad. As much as I am not attracted to Jim Carrey, it'd still be nice to have someone fight off the feeling for me and then give me a kiss afterward.

I'm not really looking for a pat on the back and a tissue here, or anything. I'm just curious. Do you get the raving lonelies and do they force you to be more critical of yourself than you deserve? In what capacity? How do you deal? Do you even give a shit?

the artistic horrors i will now release on the world...

Having a digital camera means I can take pictures of whatever the hell I damn well please. Submitted for you, and not for your approval, because I don't need justification or praise in the slightest (*cough cough*), no sir, there are new pictures on the photoblog.

So tell me my feet are cute or I will continue to take stupid pictures of things you don't care about, thus flooding the internet with valueless content until it all explodes and we're left with nothing but the sound of our own tears.

i will be sleeping well tonight

I'm exhausted. First I walked four miles- half of which, coincidentally, takes me exactly as long as the runtime of the Garden State soundtrack- to the library, as you well know. And then Jamie and I played frisbee for an hour-ish. First we had to go to Target and get a frisbee, though, which cost more than I thought (doesn't it seem like you always have way too many of the damn things, that you got for free at the car wash or your dad's company picnic, but you can never actually find one when you want it?), but we got the last one.

Discussions on running:
Lorn: I've never been very good at running.
Jamie: I despise it. The only time I'll do it is in pursuit of something.
Lorn: What, like a frisbee? *proceeds to throw frisbee as far as possible*
Jamie: Fuck you!
Lorn: You gotta watch what you ask for around me, kiddo.

Also, Chris, you'll be happy to know that I've found someone new to school at 1000 Bornes. That's right. I remain the champion. Don't you miss our tournaments? Losing numerous and sundry games in a row with insanely disproportionate collections of travelled miles? Oh, I kid, but those were the golden days of our friendship, and you know it.

So anyway, four mile walk + game of frisbee= sleepiness. Would that the weather stay nice, and I could do it again sometime. I haven't been this honestly, truly tired in a long time.

It'll probably rain tomorrow. Stock.

75 and sunny

Absolutely gorgeous day in Dallas, today, way beyond my expectations of a nice day here.

Naturally, I thought it'd be a good day to walk to the library. I mean, my roommate won't be up for a couple of hours (besides the sex he and the gf will be having before they actually do get up), and I'd like to check my email anyway. The path runs diagonally from my apartment to the library, and I'd say it's about a two mile walk each way. Trekking around Madison last weekend reminded me that there was a time I didn't need a car, and liked it.

The Shins in my CD player and a bounce in my step, off I go. I did forget to bring my camera, which occurred to me when I found the best Poohsticks bridge ever. The weird ungainly birds are everywhere and the ducks are loud as hell.

And I really hate people sometimes. How could so much trash get left here? There's plastic bags stuck in nearly all the trees and other shit everywhere, all over the ground. I hate people. We're supposed to leave this place better than we found it, hello? Anyone else in girl scouts as a kid? Environmental responsibility? Hello?

Le sigh.

Anyway, just taking a break at la biblioteca, and then I'll walk back. Feels good to get some blood flowing again and get the cobwebs outta my brain.

*strangled gurgly back-of-the-throat noise*

Items I need currently:
1. Bathtub of ice water
2. Good stiff drink
3. Slap about the head

Jason, when are you coming back to Tejas again? Soon? I need to vent. While taking the plunge. And then some loud motherfuckin' duets, Mahler 5 style.

i picked the lamest award, to be sure

In the category of "green coffee mug" I nominate myself for the Feministe Anti-Awards.


Here you see the mug it in all of its supple, soft green goodness.

.
But when the mood strikes it, it can also be shiny.

However, this mug is used solely for chai lattes and orange juice. No coffee for me, thank you!

And should I win, in conjuction with my Radagast the Brown Award, I will donate all the proceeds to my own sense of self-worthiness.

Edit: Woohoo!! It's all me, bitches. Who's got the greenest mug? I do.

yes sir, i believe that falls under the category of "i don't even want to know."

Last night I was hanging out with Jamie and having a nice introspective chat on past happenings. The subject of Jerry came up, and what he does, so I went over to the stereo to pick up the bowl he gave me before I left for California last fall.

Only, it wasn't there.

"That's odd," I said. "I don't remember moving that."

So when the Roommate got home, I went downstairs to ask him about it. "So, Mike, there was a bowl on my stereo speaker. Do you know what happened to that?"

This look of terror crossed his face and he brought the envelope he was holding up to his face to cover his mouth.

"Um...yeah, I have it. Um. I'll get it to you in a second."

All sorts of insanely naughty and gross thoughts flit through my head before I come up with the response: "Okay, well, that was a gift from Jerry, and I don't want it being used." He says he'll bring it up to my room in a minute, and I say, "No, just put it back where it was."

He's still got that look on his face and I don't even want to know. Look, you can do all the kinky shit you want but leave my personal belongings out of it. Please.

And what in the world would you be doing with a ceramic bowl?

Okay, wait, don't answer that. I said I didn't want to know.

hi, i'm speechless. nice to meet you

Proposed VA bill will send women to jail if they have a miscarriage and fail to report it in 12 hours.

From the text of the bill:

Provides that when a fetal death occurs without medical attendance, it shall be the woman's responsibility to report the death to the proper law-enforcement agency within 12 hours of the delivery. Violation of this section shall be punishable as a Class 1 misdemeanor.

From Maura's post:

Virginia is one of only 7 states, however, that mandate the reporting of loss of all "products of conception" regardless of gestational age. This includes both spontaneous losses of pregnancy and induced terminations of pregnancy, though the required data elements are different for abortion. [emphasis hers]

Valid points also brought up in the article: What if you don't know you're pregnant? What if you haven't yet sought prenatal care, and don't a have a specific doctor to report to? What exactly will a police officer say to you on the phone after such a private moment?

And also: all "products of conception"? Slippery slope, anyone? Maybe next women in Virginia will have to report that they've menstruated every month. Unlikely we'll see any of this come down on the male side of the equation, though.

Link via Maladaptive.

do you need permission to coin a phrase?

Submitted for your approval, I'd like to introduce a new concept to the English language: the Radagast the Brown Award.

Recipients must meet the following category: possession of a random tidbit of knowledge related to something geeky, fantasy/sci-fi novels or sagas in particular. Tidbit must be offered up for conversational consumption without prior thought or brain-searching.

The original Radagast the Brown Award (and the inspiration for its name) goes to yours truly. On the way to Madison Jason was trying to remember the name of the wizard in LOTR that helped Gandalf in the first book, and dealt with animals as his magical specialty. Without batting an eye, I said, "Oh, Radagast the Brown."

In conjunction with the award I also received Jason's patented corner-eye glance, the one that says, "wow, Lorn, that was...um...impressive."

The second Raddie goes to Manoj, for his referencing of Ser Barristan Selmy from A Game of Thrones. Of course, I get a lesser award for knowing who he was talking about, but my achievement is lessened by the fact that I only just read the book last month.

As I recall, numerous Raddies went to Dan whilst we visited in Madison, but I can't for the life of me remember what deserved them.

Are there any further nominations?

head games

I was a bad trombonist over my vacation, only picking up my axe to play for the Googaloo jam session...er...three weeks ago, I guess. I don't really let these kinds of relapses bother me anymore, though. Used to be I'd stress myself out, "why aren't you practicing, you're going to suck, you don't care enough," etc, etc. The thing is, that only made me less motivated to practice. And there's nothing wrong with a little healthy distance from something you do 24/7 in a regular schedule.

I'm starting to put some things together in my head that jive with the whole "playing is 95% mental" aspect of performance.

For one, someone (I can't recall who) had mentioned that some professional is starting to espouse the idea that our lip muscles are such that they do not get stronger indefinitely. Instead, after about three days of playing our embouchure is as tuned up as it's going to get. I'm pretty practiced at not practicing, and to some extent I agree with this theory. There's a difference in this context between strength and endurance, which I can see- strength being the capability to perform complexities and range-nastics and endurance being the ability to withstand playing for long periods of time. I'm certainly tired today after only having played in lessons, and not very much at that, but it only took a few minutes for me to get up into the range I was at before and to remind myself how to do flexibility slurs.

And two, Jason had mentioned that in his lesson with Mark Hetzler Mark picked up his trombone to play something, made the excuse that "oh, I haven't played in a few days" and then produced near perfection. If a professional like Mark can do that, what's the difference between him and me?

I think his head's in the right place.

He's got all the technique and all the musicality at his fingertips he needs, and a few days off isn't something to stress over. His endurance may be low, but perhaps he doesn't need it to be ship-shape at this point in time. My endurance was high in college simply because I was playing nearly seven hours a day, including practicing and ensembles, and I needed it to be. Building up your stamina for the long haul of a major recital is one thing, teaching 10 lessons a day to middle school kids who can't play above middle C is another.

I'll certainly need to work on that before grad school auditions- although only having two and weeks apart at that, I can focus more directly on musicality and strength. Can I do convincingly what I have agreed to perform for the judges?

Sure I can. And none of the preceding is an excuse for me to work less hard; in fact it's revealed to me that there is a lot of work ahead. Instead, I've just narrowed down what I need to focus on to best prepare myself for challenges ahead. It's a shame I can't afford to take any lessons (stupid John Kitzman and the $100 fee), but I did this on my own last year, albeit unsuccessfully, and I can do it again.

Of course, I've cut my losses and I'm well prepared to play the schmooze game. I'm still suspicious that perhaps my lack of acceptance letters last year was due to a failure to fawn on the right people. I still say, by rights, I should have gotten into Michigan what with how much I thought David Jackson liked me.

But that's what I keep telling myself in order to not, as I stated before, lose my head completely and come crashing down crying in the rain at the futility of it all.

Your thoughts on effective practice/cognizant physical manipulation/healthy practice breaks?

update

...on the gay teen that was expelled from a Dallas area high school.

Now his parents might kick him out and deny him funding for college because of the press fallout surrounding his explusion.

The latest fight with James's parents occurred when James shared with them that he had been contacted by "Good Morning America" twice in the last week to appear on the TV show. James has recently contacted ABC to discuss his interest in appearing on the show to share his recent ordeal.

"They don't want the press involved," in his life, James explains of his parents, "and think it's in my worst interest."

[Via The Republic of T]

announcement

I've been thinking for some time about having an "80s Children's Fantasy Puppet Movie" Fest. Films to be screened would include: The Labyrinth, Return to Oz, The Dark Crystal, and The Neverending Story. Any others you might name also. So, rounding up my Dallas Posse (all...four of you, and Leon won't show because he's Flaky McBailypants), who's in?

I'd say we could turn it into some sort of drinking game, but then Return to Oz might make me stay awake and cry all night, just like it did when I was seven.

spamming the internet again

Meme time. Thanks to Ms Lauren, as usual.

Pet Peeves
1. People not refilling Brita filters
2. Texas drivers- especially the ones with "Boycott France" bumperstickers that ride their brakes on the highway with no traffic. Also: all of them, and everything they do. I hate Texas drivers.
3. People being mean to kids for no reason. Like they think it makes them tough, or something. The kids, I mean.

Favorite Sounds
1. Train whistles
2. Orchestras warming up on stage at a concert
3. Someone singing a song for you

Least Favorite Sounds
1. Whispering
2. TV on really soft. Look, if you're going to watch TV, you should be able to hear it. And if it's too soft, I'll strain to listen uncontrollably, and then I'll be annoyed because I can't pay attention to what I'm doing. Be it working, or sleeping, or such.
3. The AIM noise. You know the one. *shudder*

Favorite Flavors of Candy
1. Watermelon/Strawberry Nerds
2. Butterscotch
3. Pink grapefruit Halls Defense/Vitamin C drops. Mmm.

Biggest Fears
1. Large enclosed spaces. Kmarts, Home Depots, Sam's Clubs and the like.
2. Airlines with my instrument in the baggage compartment.
3. Losing an important physical faculty. Sight, hearing, mobility.

Biggest Challenges
1. Inspiration and Perserverence.
2. Finding a place to call home.
3. Not losing myself in a moment of weakiness and crashing down crying in the rain at the futility of it all.

Favorite Department Stores
I don't really shop at Dept. Stores, but I guess I have to go with at least one:
1. JC Penney. I get a lot of free/cheap shit from there, thanks to my mom.
2. Oh, okay. Target. I am a Target whore.
3. Henry's Marketplace, in San Diego

Most Often Used Words
1. Stock
2. "Jesus Christ on a bicycle!"
3. Fuck and all the grammatical forms therein

Favorite Pizza Toppings
1. Mushrooms
2. Feta
3. Black olives

Favorite Cartoon Characters
1. Bender B. Rodriguiz
2. Pepe Le Peu
3. Mr Peabody

Recently Viewed Movies
1. But I'm a Cheerleader
2. Wet Hot American Summer
3. Elf

Favorite Fruits
1. Peaches, hands down.
2. Clementines
3. Red grapes

Favorite Vegetables
1. Celery
2. Green peppers
3. Carrots (but only raw)

the trombone sounds better with a mouthpiece

Lessons were interesting today, being as I left my mouthpiece sitting on the floor of my bedroom.

Thought to myself before I left at that god-awful hour of 6:30 am, I should check if my mouthpiece is with my horn. And then I said, no, it probably is. I left my phone here too, but that's okay because I never expect anyone to call me. Not in Dallas, at any rate.

Well, I talk a lot anyway, and it's for the best as I haven't played since the Googaloo jam session two weeks ago. Yeah, grad school auditions, blah blah blah. I know, I know.

I showed up at Lakeview today and there was no one there. They don't start school until Thursday. That place drives me up the wall sometimes.

Most frightening bumper sticker ever: Rush/Hannity '08.

Minor roommate annoyance: doesn't refill the Brita filter after emptying. Also piles up dishes in both sinks so that you can't refill the Brita filter, nor use the garbage disposal.

Ostensibly, and semi-officially, I will be looking for a new place to live at the end of February. Roomie's moving to a place with his girlfriend and I need to be closer to my schools so I can spend less money on gas and less time in traffic. I might sublet for cheaper rent, but I am curious about living alone- I've never done it. Perks? Disadvantages?

love song for wisconsin

My adventures in vacation are over, and I've returned for an indefinite period to the relative dreariness of life in Dallas.

I don't even know where to begin. The drive up was fine, good weather, easy enough to Kansas City, and then pretty awesome up to Madison with Jason. Revelations crossing the border into Wisconsin have made me happy and relieved. Drove in over John Nolen Dr, because it's my favorite way into town-the picture will be up on the photoblog shortly although it's not very clear- with the Monona Terrace and the Capitol winking seductively at you over the water. Home.

I saw old friends: Griffin, Katie, Grant, and Davis met Jerry and I at the Great Dane. I made Davis come to town. Chris McGann helped. Because I care. Jason, Ben and I helped her shop for a vibrator (or two!) at A Woman's Touch. I lament my lack of funds for a similar purchase. We come to the conclusion that shopping in a sex store is no fun unless you do it with the most random crowd you can assemble.

I did spend money though. I can't stay out of A Room of One's Own. I got two new buttons and two sassy books. One of them might make up for my lack of vibrator purchase, wink wink.

And then there's the Exclusive Company, the greatest CD store ever. As usual, I forgot everything I wanted to buy the minute I walked in and ended up with just the Rilo Kiley CD and Starker Plays Kodaly.

And Charles died. Charles, the cranky, eccentric, moose-loving, opera nut proprietor of the downstairs section of Exclusive. Charles, that never looked you in the eye and always had a harsh word to say about any music you bought that afterdated the 17th century, yet still defended me to his friend when it was insinuated that I didn't know what I was buying. Charles that could find you anything you wanted in a few seconds, but take forever to actually give it to you. Charles, who stocked the greatest classical and jazz store in the free world. Rest in peace, Charles. Thanks for all the music.

Qdoba. Med Cafe. Noodles is being remodelled- boo on that. Pizza Hut is gone- wherever now will brass quintets go after rehearsals to eat greasy pizza and wreak havoc on the buffet? Expresso Royale no longer has apple crumb cakes. My heart hurts a little, but the chai latte is still fantastic. Madison didn't need another burrito joint, but it got one- some place called Moe's. It smells funny in there. All the pubs are the same. Paisans. Himal Chuli, delicious as ever.

There are new stores, of course, because State Street's turnover for business is faster than a Las Vegas hooker's, and the Civic Center is gutted for Stage II of the Overture Center. Stage I is fantastic. Absolutely gorgeous. Jealousy levels reach epic proportions.

New Year's Eve: There's no snow. I got a parking ticket, which I will not pay. Davis and I went to Hawks for dinner and to stake out a table for the New Year's crowd that will hopefully join us. Chris and Jenny. Dan, Katie O'Grady and Andy Johnson came. Davis and I each had an extremely powerful Long Island and waaaay too many curly fries. We walked back to Jerry's place. Davis and I got drunker. I missed midnight completely ("Hey! It's 12:10!" "Yeah, I said Happy New Year ten minutes ago." "Dammit!"). Chris and Jenny left. Jason came. Davis left with Ben. Jerry went to bed. Jason and I put on our coats and wandered the streets, hoping maybe the Essen Haus would be open. We ran into the most random people- Nick Cowles and Neeraj Mehta. We went into the Shamrock and some place called the Argus. It was 5 am by the time we got home, me playing at being Jason's orbiting body by running in circles around him while he walked. It's a wonder I didn't fall down- but I saved that for the next night, anyhow.

I spent all of New Year's day with Dan. It was awesome. Breakfast (at 1 pm) at the Come Back Inn. Slippery walking- only the beginning of a day of freezing rain that will not quit. Dinner at Qdoba, again. Rented a movie- But I'm a Cheerleader- I fell about 10 times. It took us about an hour to walk from past the Capitol to Four Star- that's bloody ridiculous. My shoes suck, officially, for icy sidewalk-walking.

Next day, goodbye to Jerry, who I won't see before I leave because he works all day. It's been a little weird, but nonetheless good. Coffee with Mikey, Chris and Jenny. Memorable Mikey lines:
"I wonder what Miah's heartrate is like, with all that coffee?" (me:)"He must be up there with a hummingbird." (M:)"Nectar, nectar! Must eat my weight in nectar!" and, in response to the news that Abby is working as personal assistant for a blind, wheelchair-bound man: "So she's like a seeing eye dog?"

Lunch at Noodles and Company on University Ave before we leave- Chris, Mike and Jenny are there with Professor Aley. Surprise! Brian Balfany is there too. Noodles disappoints me slightly. My Pesto Cavatappi no longer comes in a bowl, it gets cold fast, and I suspect that there is less of it than usual.

And we're heading out of town, already. Out past the Beltline, past Fitchburg, Verona, Mount Horeb, Platteville. Goodbye, Madison. I miss you already. The Wisconsin countryside always awes me. Maybe it's really nothing special, but it makes me all kinds of nostaligic and happy.

I took a wrong turn in Dubuque, and we ended up on a road headed for Davenport instead of Cedar Rapids. No sweat- Bettendorf, "the bastard child of the Quad Cities" is the gem of that little detour. Twosies in Iowa because that's what I think of it. Jason and I have reached the stage of our relationship where I can make the silly fish noise and he doesn't bat an eyelash.

Kansas City. Driving home today in the mists of Kansas and Oklahoma, alone, thoughtful. Tip for travellers in middle-of-nowhere Oklahoma: it is not wise to pick a fight in Subway over their gross environmental indecencies. W stickers abound again, and I miss Madison all the more. I didn't see ONE Bush sticker the entire time I was there, but I did see at least 7 "Free Tibet" stickers and countless Kerry-Edwards ones. A liberal's paradise, that bloody wonderful city is.

And I saw a Jesus-mobile, too. Mustard-yellow station wagon with a printing of Jesus on the back window, with his name written in caligraphy on the sides. Classy.

My favorite anti-choice billboard of the trip? "I love you, Mommy, please don't kill me." With a picture of a fetus. In Missouri. My favorite Christian propaganda sign? "Accept Jesus into your heart...OR REGRET IT FOREVER" in Kansas.

So now I'm back in Dallas, and I have lessons tomorrow already. Grad applications are on their way to completion and I must start the practicing regime for auditions immediately. I'm broke. I'm tired, and I'm a little sad. Two weeks I've been looking forward to this trip, and it put off all my questions and insecurities and anxiety about the future. It's over now, and everything has to come crashing back down on me.

I think I can manage to hold off on that until tomorrow, though. Enjoy the pictures.