You humans - there's just no sense of humor.

Pet peeves from teaching: #1

2012-02-02T02:22:00.000-05:00

Pet peeve from teaching #1? Parents. (Commence ranting and raving.)

Parents who don't send in paperwork on time. Parents who send in the wrong paperwork. (Don't you know which class your child has been attending all year?!?) Parents who don't send the check with the paperwork. Parents who don't send in the paperwork at all. Parents who nag me about processing their paperwork when it was dropped off at the post office that afternoon. Parents who fill out the paperwork incorrectly, incompletely, or illegibly. Those three tend to be a trio of doom.

Parents who don't check their email. Parents who write their email illegibly, force me to translate their chicken scratch from ancient Sanskrit into English, and then get mad when they don't receive emails because the Mailer Daemon bounced it back (this is clearly my fault). Parents who don't share important emails with their children, particularly when the first line of the email is ***PARENTS, PLEASE SHARE THIS WITH YOUR CHILDREN!*** Parents who send me nagging emails telling me their child never got the information mentioned in that email.

Parents who spell my name wrong even though I include it at the bottom of every email. Parents who keep calling me "Mrs." I'm not that old.

Parents who think their child is more special than all the other children. Parents who think I can magically create supreme success for their child without the child putting in any effort. Parents who think their child's sh¡t doesn't stink. Parents who yell at me when they or their child screws up. Parents who think their child is entitled to something or everything. Parents who think I spend every waking minute of my day (which is all of them because I am a teacher and therefore don't need sleep) thinking up ways to keep their child happy and amused. Parents who expect me to be a babysitter. Parents who expect me to be a parent. Parents who refuse to support their child. Parents who raise their child with a completely warped sense of how important he/she is in the grand scheme of the universe. Parents who hardly raise their child at all.

I am a TEACHER. Read: a person who conveys knowledge of a particular subject (in this case music) to a group of young students. As a bonus I will also attempt to turn your child into a decent human being with morals and values, but sometimes I'm not given much to work with. I do a lot (including giving up sleeping and eating time) to give your child the best education I can. Would you mind terribly meeting me halfway? Or start with the paperwork, and we'll just go from there.

And thank you to those few parents who get it already. You are a rare breed indeed, but infinitely appreciated. You're the ones who keep teachers from abandoning our love for educating children. You're the ones who give us fancy soaps to guard against the germs of so many children. And you're the ones who raise your children to be another generation of wonderful, teacher-supporting parents.

Life lessons from teaching: #10

2012-01-26T23:42:00.001-05:00

Crafting should be left to the professionals or else the kids might mock your lack of skills. Bulletin boards and pre-cut letters are where I max out. Lesson learned.

Tofurkey

2011-11-17T00:46:00.004-05:00

I had the distinct displeasure of seeing a "cooked" tofurkey the other night. DISASTER. It's like a mutant form of soy bean in this sickly off-white color that they smush together into a plastic casing (like store-brand 70% ground beef) and you cook it IN THE PLASTIC. So your kitchen smells like barf because the tofurkey and plastic combine to create this nauseating aroma. There is no way to tell when the tofurkey is cooked. You slice it and it looks like a cross between a sea sponge and bad white bread.

I declined to taste it, but the brave men reported it as being "gritty," "chewy," "bad texture," and "there is not enough Coke in the world for this to make it down my throat." The vegetarian who brought the offending could not even describe it as good and instead decided that it tasted "sort of like turkey" and would be better with gravy and pepper (no shit). The gentlemen exchanged looks and shook their heads in the negative.

For extra fun, we tried to pour some juice on a piece of sliced tofurkey. It absorbed the liquid immediately, but, when pressed, the liquid would ooze out. Also, if you press it, it hold the mold of your finger for a moment before returning to its original shape.

I can sum up tofurkey in the following words: just say no.

In my experience there was no stuffing spewing out of the middle nor gravy to mask the nastiness. Don't be fooled.

Letter to [-------]

2011-09-08T11:43:00.000-04:00

Dear SP Parents,
While your children are adorable budding musicians, I find the extent of stupid questions to be anything but adorable. There is NO REASON why I should receive 10,000 emails asking [when classes start/times they meet/rooms they meet in] when all of this information is available on our highly informative website. And I know that you know about this website because you had to visit it in order to download the registration form (which, by the way, was due last week for returning students). Please get smart. Now.
Love,
PC

Life between the cornfields: part 4

2011-08-24T13:08:00.001-04:00

Two posts in one day! (Obviously my full workload of classes and assistantship duties hasn't accumulated yet.)

Up here in the cornfields, having a Southern accent (even though mine is usually slight) is somewhat of a novelty. People keep looking at me strangely when my vowels take slightly too long to roll off the tongue, so I have decided to provide the silly Northerners with a short dictionary/pronunciation guide to clarify things.

Georgia [jaw-jah]: Home sweet home!
Coke: A fizzy soda product made in Georgia. And though I don't refer to all sodas as "Coke" I do expect to be served Coca Cola [co-cola] products. Pepsi is nasty.
(un)sweet tea [(uhn)suh-weet teh]: Coke alternative.
Dawgs [dawgs]: Dogs, short for Georgia Bulldogs. Superior college mascot.
y'all [yawll]: You all. Also, "all y'all" as in "All y'all be trippin'!"
All y'all be trippin!: You people are cracked out in the mind.
fixin' to [fih-hin tu]: Getting prepared to do something, as in "I'm fixin' to whip your sorry behind!"
Ma'am [maay-amm] or Sir [suh]: A respectful term for anyone who might possibly be even 0.3 seconds older than you or who is in a position of authority regardless of age.
ain't: Am not (more or less), as in "I ain't gonna skin this here squirrel."
D'jeet jet?: Have you eaten yet?
Y'all best get over here right quick! [yawll beh-est gaett ovah heh-ah riat quey-ik]: A family endearment, code for either "Your ass is grass if you aren't cowering in front of me in 0.3 seconds" or "Your ass ain't gettin' no suppa if you be dilly dallying!"

Y'all come back now, ya hear!

Life between the cornfields: part 3

2011-08-24T12:25:00.004-04:00

Dear KJV New Testament Bible passer-outer old men who assault me at every corner on campus,
I promise I am not a super duper slutbag who throws myself at every Abercrombie-wearing frat boy I see. In light of this statement, I would appreciate fewer looks of stern judgement that clearly mean "You aren't wearing a nun's habit; therefore, you are living a life of SIN." Also, contrary to popular belief, I am not looking to start a personal mini-Bible collection, so I really don't need three of you on one corner waving them in my face. That's just obnoxious.
Sincerely,
PC

OK, so the old men on campus today didn't look this crazy, but the second day of class is probably a bit too early for the ranting and raving preacher sort. Maybe next week?

Found a web reference to dinosaurs as "Jesus' horses." Pwahahaha.

Life between the cornfields: part 2

2011-08-18T18:08:00.003-04:00

Last night I was driving through the streets of uptown (ab)Normal and doing my best not to maim any drunk sorostitutes with my vehicle. While driving, I encountered a house with a strange object in the front yard. As I came upon the scene I realized that the large object was in fact a dunk tank and that it belonged to a house party complete with beer kegs, red solo cups, and blaring music. However, my favorite aspect of the whole scenario was a white sheet hanging from the porch which stated something to the effect of:

ISU DADS: DROP YOUR DAUGHTERS HERE! MILFS ALSO ACCEPTED

I was stunned. Where did all the classy go?? My alma mater was named the nation's #1 party school and I never saw something so ridiculous as this party combo. Coupled with all the other odd occurrences in this town, I have decided that I must have arrived in Oz. I expect Munchkins will start popping out of toadstools anytime now, so get your cameras ready!

With my luck, this creepy trio will wind up being my new neighbors. Oh goody.

Life between the cornfields: part 1

2011-08-07T00:21:00.000-04:00

I have officially survived one week between the cornfields of Illinois! (And there was only one minor incident that required the presence of the police.) For the record, the PD in my new town are quite friendly people and helped sort out my little neighbor issue. Thought process: Nice to meet you drunk psycho b**** neighbor! I do so enjoy hearing every word/emphatic bass beat of "I'm a Believer" and the other Top 500 Hits of the 80s, 90s, and Today from 6:00pm to 1:00am and subsequently being threatened after the cops show up and politely ask you to turn it down. I too was at a loss for a more creative way to say "Welcome to town!" until you cleverly came up with "Oh it's on b****!" Fyi, shaking floor and walls = the music is too loud.

In any case, things have calmed down considerably. I've met most of my neighbors and the new string teaching staff up here. I've found the coffee shops and a few good restaurants. Kroger is close by. I even hung up my clothing this evening after deciding that it was really quite impractical to keep ones wardrobe in trash bags. Most importantly I've succeeded in convincing a new batch of students that I am certifiably crazy after only one week of camp.

I'll spend the next week gradually feeling my brain turn to oozing corn mash as I try to cram 4 years worth of undergraduate music theory/history into it. I guess I should practice too since auditions are coming up.... Feel free to interrupt.

Surprise! A cornfield in Illinois. The Amish buggy sign is just a bonus.

Life lessons from teaching: #10

2011-07-04T15:59:00.000-04:00

Happy 4th of July! To remind you that music is still on the brain, I give you this tonedeafcomics.com cartoon. Enjoy and reflect.

Life lessons from... SUMMER

2011-06-03T00:10:00.000-04:00

Don't worry, I'm still teaching. I've just toned it down a bit following graduation. Btw, I graduated and that's kind of a big deal.

Anyway, I suddenly have that elusive, mythical little treasure called "free time" and have used it to drive long distances, get tan, shop, clean, not practice (need to change that ASAP), and watch a lot of stuff on Netflix. I've also been trying to revive my dormant social life following that life-consuming process more commonly known as student teaching. My efforts have led me to leave awkward voicemails and compose early-morning messages such as the following to my dear hetero-life-mate Katelyn. This is what free time does to me. It is poison. Poison I tell you!!

I have decided to write a book and it will be called "How to Give Life Updates." Here is a short snippet from my soon-to-be-published masterpiece of the ages:

Step 1: Locate telephone or similar communication device.
Step 2: Try not to drop aforementioned communication device, an action which would inevitably destroy the device and render it entirely useless (unless you wish it use the spare parts in conjunction with my next book, "How to Make Objects Look Like Bombs and Scare the Crap Out of Your Local Grocer").
Step 3: Press and/or tap buttons and/or screen of communication device to input the desired party's telephone number.
Step 4: Repeat Step 2.
Step 5: Press the SEND button, GO button, or the equivalent.
Step 6: Place phone with the sound making part next to your ear and the sound receiving part next to your mouth. (Hint: usually the antenna points towards the big yellowish round shiny hot thing in the sky.)
Step 7: Repeat Step 2. (It's always good to be on your guard.)
Step 8: When your party is reached, it is generally considered to be polite to identify oneself and the purpose of calling. A pertinent example might be "AHHHHHHHHH PPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!!!!! IT'S MEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!! I WUVVVVVSSSS YOUUUUUUUU!!!!!!!" or something of like nature. The conversation may escalade from this point into any number of scenarios, each more ridiculous than the last, until you find yourself reciting the entirety of "Jabberwocky" in Pig Latin in Gregorian Chant (Mixolydian mode of course).
Step 9: Repeat Step 2. (This point really cannot be stressed enough.)
Step 10. Hang up. Return to Step 1.

Personal Grooming

2011-04-30T16:24:00.000-04:00

I must take a break from my usual series of posts to comment on a particular person's horrid grooming habits. (I'm also avoiding doing my student teaching project by watching a replay of The Royal Wedding.)

When you are the Archbishop of Canterbury and you're getting ready to a) perform a marriage ceremony for a member of The Royal Family and b) be seen on international television by millions of people, would it not be a good plan to trim your eyebrows so that those hairs are not longer than those on your head? He looks like an evil wizard.

Life lessons from teaching: #9

2011-04-24T13:49:00.001-04:00

You are never too old to get senioritis.

I have 1 week of student teaching, a student teaching observation from my professor, a chaperoning experience in Gatlinburg, two conducting experiences, and a student teaching project standing between me and graduation. Cue music: "The Final Countdown."

Life lessons from kayaking: #1

2011-04-07T21:17:00.000-04:00

This is a public service announcement:
When in battle against a kayak, a boulder, and a river, you will lose 100% of the time.

Life lessons from teaching: #8

2011-04-04T10:19:00.000-04:00

Spring Break is a gift from the gods. Sing Muse of how glorious it shall be to dine from a plate in lieu of tupperware and of how the gentle caress of the pillow against one's cheek is even more divine when the sun is up!

Life lessons from teaching: #7

2011-03-15T18:11:00.000-04:00

Some days you have one of those classes that is just horrific. Like they make you question why you went into teaching in the first place. And you're fairly certain that at least one student will one day be featured on America's Most Wanted.

Current solution: white chocolate mocha with one shot each of caramel and toffee.

Life lessons from teaching: #6

2011-03-13T23:05:00.001-04:00

Expect the unexpected.

Children are unpredictable with regard to their actions. You wouldn't believe some of the things my students have done to earn citations and suspensions. Awkward situations involving the onset of puberty are a given. Interrupting students as they ask each other out is ever-amusing. However, my favorite little game is the "What odd question will I be asked today?" game.

Best question so far: "Ms. C, are you mixed?"

Yes. White with a hint of pale. Clearly.

Life lessons from teaching: #5

2011-02-21T20:35:00.000-05:00

Lesson plans for orchestra are 99.99% pointless.
(a.k.a. Life is 99.99% unpredictable.)

Teaching a proper lesson in orchestra makes it nearly impossible for that lesson to fit inside the neat little box in which the creators of NATIONAL STANDARDS attempt to constrain us. We just can't do it.

Sure, we could try to spend 45 minutes in a classroom and only teach one aspect of rhythm OR melody OR harmony OR form OR expression OR style. The kids would slay us. We would slay us. And most importantly, music is all of those things and more. I prefer to replace that box with a biga$$ bubble.

And regarding the lack of lesson planning in life, who ever thought that I might be taking students to perform at Festival.... without my supervising teacher? She has some family stuff going on, so I said that I'd do anything for her and the kids. And I will (but that doesn't mean I'm not pissing my pants a bit).

Today I was coached through how to take the students to Festival, not get graded down for doing something stupid, and not lose any students. And not lose any students. And not lose any students. I also waved my arms around a great deal pleading with the students to actually glance at my wild gesticulations at least once in the course of a piece.

In my next life I will become a scientist and learn to manipulate the genetic code of music students so that they develop a special third eye, the sole purpose of which will be to follow and respond correctly to the movements of music teachers.

Life lessons from teaching: #4

2011-02-02T21:41:00.000-05:00

Citations.

Life is about choices. (I know this comes as a shock to many people. Yes, actions really do have consequences.)

I've spent the past few weeks of my student teaching experience imparting this little tidbit of knowledge upon the tweenagers of a certain middle school which-must-not-be-named-or-I-risk-my-entire-teaching-career. (I would blame the lawyers, but it's really the soulless people who hire them with whom I have issues.) They run around blissfully unaware, or blatantly contrary as the case may be, with seemingly no regard for the people around them. Enough.

The time has come (! the Walrus said) for enlightenment in the form of discipline. I have been bestowed with the awesome power of issuing citations to students who can't seem to get with the program. I have no intention of abusing said power, but I have zero qualms about using it when necessary.

For example, consider Student T (for trouble). Student T may or may not allegedly suffer from one of those diseases/mental states that I often believe parents use as an excuse for their own deficiencies when it comes to raising their offspring. In this particular situation it is plausible that there is an actual medical condition; however, it is completely masked by Student T's inability to be anything other than deplorably rude to both his peers and myself.

Cue warning from me day 1.
Cue warning from me day 2.
Cue warning from supervising teacher day 3.
Cue warning from me day 3 (approx. 5 minutes later).
Cue instruction to see me after class.
Cue issuing of citation.
Cue 15 minutes of the student personifying "silent as the grave."

So effective.

I've been slacking.

2011-01-18T07:18:00.000-05:00

No update since October.... I realize this is an issue. However, it's not one to solve at 7:15am on a Tuesday. Stories from student teaching arriving soon - stay tuned!

205 days: an update

2010-10-20T15:12:00.000-04:00

Haircut: check.
Visit to chiropractor: check.
Purchase of Halloween decorations for apartment complex door decorating contest: check.

And I believe our music history class has established that a significant number of medieval/renaissance composers of motets and/or chansons allowed their minds to dwell in the gutter quite often, contributing to a large collection of early music that is laden with sometimes thinly-veiled sexual innuendo (and sometimes not veiled at all). This has contributed to at least two moments of class-wide awkward laughter per week, usually following some mildly inappropriate comment by our blissfully unaware professor. He calls our musical range "silly to sublime" - understatement if I ever heard it.

207 days

2010-10-18T15:15:00.000-04:00

I've finally realized that coffee cannot replace food or sleep, but I have no choice.

I'm making grocery lists while discussing the cadential tendencies of Josquin Desprez and writing lesson plans while the paint dries on my new bedside table. I get alarmingly excited when I realize that a cancelled class allows me time for a lunch break... or a trip to the chiropractor. I'm getting 4-5 hours of sleep each night and am forced to wear makeup so that I don't scare my students too much. I need a haircut, a trip to the dentist, and at least a month for hibernation, but these all shall continue to elude me.

Perhaps a bit naively, I am looking forward to student teaching if for no other reason than shorter days. Yes, I'll leaving Athens by 6am to reach Gwinnett each day and get back to the Classic City around 6pm or later, but at least my hours will be set. No more practicing until 2am. No more late night quintet rehearsals. No more horrid meetings for group projects (truly the bane of my existence).

I. must. make. it. through. November. 19. = NO MORE RECITAL!

Countdown to graduation: 207 days, 4 hours, 45 minutes.

I lost my focus pants.

2010-08-29T23:22:00.001-04:00

How am I supposed to concentrate on secondary pedagogy textbooks, medieval scores and songs, and trumpet embouchure when Sarah sends me pictures like this?!?!?!?!

I think I should be allowed one cuddly animal for each hour of classes that I'm taking. Where I would actually put twenty-one fuzzy creatures is another matter...

One more item crossed off the bucket list.

2010-08-11T14:05:00.003-04:00

Guess what I did while in Nashville last week! You won't. It's beyond out of character for me. I went to a... line dancing bar.

(Told you that you wouldn't guess it.)

Madelyne promised that there would be old men in plaid shirts and cowboy boots, and I promised to gawk and/or laugh riotously when appropriate. Sadly, there were only a few sightings of old men in plaid, but the oldest man's t-shirt more than made up for his lack of proper attire. It read "Tequila makes my clothes fall off." Now that's classy.

Freud would be baffled.

2010-08-06T09:57:00.000-04:00

I couldn't sleep last night. I was exhausted, but I kept tossing and turning, too hot, too cold, blanket in a lump, pillow not at the right height, light shining under the door, hungry but too tired to find food, etc. And after 8 hours of sitting in a car trying to get back from Nashville I think my mind still might have been working in overdrive to alleviate the tedium of that drive. Sometime between 3:00 and 9:00 AM (when I finally fell asleep) my mind concocted this little doozy:

I was in a grocery store in Germany. Initially I was looking at zip-up sweaters, but I soon ambled over to the vegetables. A guy about my age with cornsilk blonde hair came up to me while I was perusing a basket of alfalfa sprouts. We discussed the sprouts and agreed that I didn't want sprouts that were completely sprouted, but instead wanted some in a clump of dirt that were just beginning to show signs of sprouting. I reached down to pick up a promising petri dish of sprouts and tried to water it using the misting system. The guy was gone when I looked back up. I walked down the aisle looking for him and walked into a tiny office. There was a double leg amputee with schizophrenia in the office. He asked me questions and answered them sometimes in a quasi-logical fashion and other times not. He told me that I needed to find the blonde boy because the boy was my best friend. As I had only known the boy for a few moments, I disagreed.

WTF? I just love that the only dreams I remember make me look insane. My last one involved maneuvering a rolling trash can of corn around the UGA campus (including hefting it onto a campus bus), but the campus was compacted and nothing was quite where it should have been.

An Educational Experience

2010-07-24T11:28:00.000-04:00

On Tuesday I went down to Pavo, GA with the BFG to visit my great aunt and uncle. (For those of you who have no earthly idea where Pavo is, might I suggest an acquaintance with Google maps?) It was, shall we say, an educational experience.

For instance, did you know that...

my great uncle keeps in stock enough Immodium AD to prevent BP from using that as a viable solution for solving the oil leak?
elderly people will always go into excruciating detail regarding their health (namely bowel movements)?
elderly people will always go into excruciating detail regarding everything else, such as a complete inventory of every screwdriver and rope scrap in the tool shed?
70 mph is better than 35 mph, especially when approaching an intersection with many cars and a red light? Oh wait....
timely braking as one approaches the aforementioned intersection has little merit as an idea?
being safe requires sitting on top of a loaded weapon at all times? Think Easter egg hunt meets hand grenades.
a three-bedroom house should have at least three full bathrooms, the last of these conveniently located in the garage?
elderly people have next to no concept of being PC, which normally wouldn't bother me too much but becomes rather awkward when paired with loss of both hearing and all concept of volume? There are some words you just can't use in the South.
men may think they're in charge, but the Southern woman always gets the last word and certainly knows how to put men in their place?

We learned, and then we stopped at a roadside stand for bags of delicious peaches (which will be turned into a pie later today). Yummy.

And I'll save my McDonald's rant for another time.

I think textbooks reproduce asexually.

2010-07-17T12:57:00.000-04:00

MOVING SEASON f$@;ositqagv!@$%(QUASHq42ruaszhga;t!

It begins today with the removal of the heaviest furniture ever created by mankind (all belonging to one roommate), major carpet cleaning because black dog fur was designed specifically to remain in light-colored carpet despite all attempts to remove it, and much sneezing because of all the dust wafting through the air.

Discovery: I have enough music education/theory/instrumental books to stock Barnes & Noble. They are enormously heavy as well, causing me to distribute them across 2-4 storage containers in order for me not to require the services of a professional body builder to move them. Such fun.

Countdown to my golden birthday: 5 days.

A new course offering for fall?

2010-06-22T13:09:00.001-04:00

As a music education major I am required to take courses such as String, Brass, Woodwind, Vocal, and Guitar Methods in order to give me the most elementary overview imaginable for a variety of instruments. Mind you, this is supposed to prepare me for teaching in ANY music setting (what with my K-12 certification and all).

In Elementary Methods we are exposed to another blessed instrument: the recorder. The recorder never sounds good. 35 recorders being played at once sounds like a bag full of cats being shredded against an electrified cheese grater. And that's with music majors behind each and every pipe. Children are quieter but more out of tune. Also to be noted: it is impossible for two recorders to play in tune with one another.

In light of all this I propose a new course offering for Fall 2010:
VUVUZELA METHODS.

It would be glorious. Every morning at 10:10 the band room could be filled with the sound of 20 vuvuzelas sounding their B flats to the heavens and beyond. The vuvuzela choir could even become an auxiliary group with the Redcoat Band. School spirit would skyrocket. Good ideas? I think so.

Life lessons from teaching: #3

2010-06-20T23:21:00.000-04:00

I think I'll continue this series of "life lessons from teaching" posts with the following elucidation:

Children should bathe more.

If you've been at band camp for four days and have not showered we have a problem. You are in high school. You should know better. You should have listened to your parents. If nothing else, you should have listened to my not-so-subtle hints about loving and encouraging personal hygiene.

I don't want to hear about any woman issues or other excuses. Take your soap, your flip flops, and your towel, and march your nasty sweaty stinktastic self down to the showers ASAP. Georgia heat + being outside all day + spandex + no bathing = NO BUENO!!!

Life lessons from teaching: #2

2010-06-16T21:17:00.000-04:00

The floor is made of lava!

OK, so not really. And this post only relates vaguely to teaching and much more to the side effects of glorified babysitting. Sue me. (Please don't.)

I'm a dorm counselor for the marching band children this week which, as one might imagine, living in the dorms with the little darlings. This is pretty much the best gig ever. My day more or less consists of some combination of the following: waking the campers in a manner that is the cause of much loathing on their part (drums sticks and loud music are apparently not a few of their favorite things at 7:20 AM), eating free food, playing volleyball at the pool, preventing the campers from doing stupid things during free time, tucking them in at night, and watching the World Cup during my free time.

With so much good you know there has to be a downside. Enter: the dreaded dorm showers.

Dorm showers are an acknowledged source of fungus and disease. In addition to such loveliness, the Brumby showers feature shower heads that happen to be roughly at the level of a midget's bellybutton. Consequently one spends most of the shower doing the "I have to squat or do a back bend to get under the shower nozzle but I can't touch anything in the shower" game while trying not to slip all over the floor in one's flip flops.

It's quite abdominal workout, let me tell you.

Life lessons from teaching: #1

2010-06-07T22:47:00.001-04:00

As a teacher, you must become an opportunist. A parent wants to volunteer? Fabulous. Somebody wants to donate instruments? Bless you. The students get excited about music and behave all in the same day? Angel choirs are singing.

All of these things are great, but one aspect of being an opportunist rises above them all. A teacher must be an OPPORTUNISTIC PISSER.

Seriously.

[Fyi, a perusal of Google has determined that "pee-er" or any variation thereof sadly is not a word.]

Teachers don't get much time in the day to get stuff done alone. Working with students is sort of a major element of the job description. However, with so much time dedicated to looking after students, a teacher often has to ignore personal needs (occasionally for uncomfortably long periods of time).

Moral of the story: the kids leave for lunch; you go pee. The kids have a class break and you don't have to escort them through the building; you go pee. You need to run an errand while someone else watches your class; you add 3 minutes to your journey and hit the john.

So, one and all, take this lesson to heart and become an opportunistic pisser!

"And when I think about you, it makes me wanna fart."

2010-06-05T11:25:00.001-04:00

It is again the time of the UGA Summer Music Camps! I am a junior orchestra assistant again this year.

Translation: while the dorm counselors lounge about the pool all day I will be at my beloved SoM from 7:30AM-9:00PM herding children, taking roll, making copies after cries of "Someone stole my music!" (because the common thief just can't live without your copy of Gauntlet), setting up and taking down chairs, walking the kids to and from meals, preventing them from having wing eating contests during meals, warding off post-seating audition tears, etc. etc. etc.

My favorite task last year involved escorting children to their private lessons with the UGA professors. The kids rehearsed in the PAC and had lessons in the SoM. The buildings are across from each other. Considering this, I found it remarkable that, even by week's end, not one of the kids could remember where on earth they needed to go for their lessons.

The buildings are across from each other. You could spit from one to the other with minimal effort.

As evidence of the feeblemindedness of today's youth, I give you the following conversation which occurred on the last day of camp last year:

PC: OK _____, it's time for your viola lesson.

Student: Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.......... I forgot my instrument......

PC: Even though I told you to bring it to your musicianship class that just ended because your lesson right after that class is in the SAME BUILDING?

Student: I forgot........

PC: Go run and get your instrument, then come back to this floor for your lesson.

Student: Um, I don't remember where I left it.

PC: It's been 5 days and you don't remember where the other building is? ...... *sigh* ...... OK, you'll just need to walk back to the PAC with the group, grab your instrument, and then come back to this floor.

*We all walk over to the PAC, and the students begin their rehearsal. Five minutes later while I'm taking a head count....

PC: (to viola student) Why are you sitting here??!? You're supposed to be in your lesson!

Student: ....... I forgot where to go.

PC: You couldn't remember how to get back to the building you were just in and the floor you were just on and the room that you had a lesson in two days ago????? [omfg *face-palm* *duh face*] I have to finish taking roll, then I'll walk you over there. You're going to be late. You'll need to apologize to your teacher. Can you really not remember where to go? Why aren't you packing up??? Hurry!

Yes, this conversation really happened. For extra fun (and to screw with my already addled mind), give me a call late on Thursday night and mock my ensuing inability to comprehend anything.

Clicky clicky the post title for a fun song. Go Dawgs.

My hetero life mate.

2010-05-31T17:11:00.000-04:00

I've made it through four years of college, and it's high time to acknowledge someone important that I met my very first day at UGA. I am lucky enough to have a hetero life mate. (Basically, we're one mind in two bodies and we're soooo gay together, except we're both straight.) We're kinda ridiculous together. For example, this gem of a quote from earlier today:

"I love that you're washing your laundry, and I'm washing your laundry detergent."

That's code for "P was a klutz and knocked the laundry detergent bottle off the side of the tub and made a huge mess that Katelyn helped to clean up because she's awesome."

And we're like this all the time, except crazier. It's pretty sweet. So here's to my hetero life mate! *Cue photo evidence of our long friendship.*

Church Hall ladies at Olive Garden - fall 2006

after a UGASO concert - spring 2008

eating our delicious kebaps in Zürich - summer 2008

UGA football game - fall 2008

Athfest - summer 2009

after Song of a Child (Katelyn's play) - spring 2010

Ah, sweet summer.

2010-05-20T20:55:00.001-04:00

After such a packed and eventful semester, summer has come as such a relief. Sleeping 12 hours? Yes please. Drinking my coffee from a mug instead of a thermos? Don't mind if I do. Cooking at my leisure? You can bet your booty I am.

Regarding the last of those, summer provides such a bounty of fresh veggies, particularly the tomato. On the dinner menu tonight? Roasted tomatoes with pasta and parmesan cheese.

Roasted Tomatoes
plum tomatoes
garlic, diced or put through a garlic press
pure olive oil
balsamic vinegar
salt
pepper
sugar
fresh basil

Cut the tomatoes in half and remove the juicy, squishy core (save innards for pasta sauces, salsa, cheese dip, etc). Place on a baking sheet and cover with a healthy dosing of garlic, olive oil, vinegar, S&P, and a dash of sugar. Bake for about 20 minutes at 375. Add sliced basil and bake for another few minutes. Eat and enjoy.

Look at all those pretty pretty letters!

2010-05-11T12:27:00.009-04:00

This almost makes up for my Maymester class being cancelled without notice... not looking forward to 21 hours next semester.

"(612): I dont know why people are racist. Both the mexicans and the irish gave us holidays where everyone drinks on a wednesday."

2010-05-10T21:34:00.001-04:00

It's that time of year when the semester is winding down (more like gearing up to chew you up and spit you out, but close enough) and it's time to regroup. The countdown to graduation is so close I can smell it. It smells like coffee, as all good things should.

May 2011. May 2011. May 2011. May 2011. May 2011.

One of my favorite parts of the end of the semester (besides the actual end) is going back through all those old notes so I don't flunk the finals. I'm a decent note taker, but what I really enjoy rediscovering are professor/peer quotes hidden within bullet points on educational philosophies, the structure of sonata form, and the three style periods of [pick your composer].

These range from the mildly humorous to the profoundly stupid. Contrary to popular belief, the pursuit or possession of degrees for higher education do not correspond in any way to increased intelligence. In any case, enjoy.

"Before Beethoven was deaf, he could hear." & "You know what's happening? I'm just getting too excited because this is really hot stuff!" & "'Typical' is not the same as 'conceivable.'" - Dr. Vogel
"'Doug Moore Saves the Day!' - I like this episode." & "I'm about to rage. Seriously!" - Charlie
"I am here to not conjugate my verbs correctly for you. What are friends for?" - Stephie

Dr. Haas and Music History II get their own special section due to excessive specialness, mostly on the part of Dr. Haas. His class was exceedingly awesome.

"Chromaticism should always be played in a creepy manner." & "He is in Hell, which presents him with a whole host of problems, first and foremost getting out of there." - on Orfeo & Euridice
"Mozart = Michael Jackson."
"It's just all special effects and crap." - Haas' opinion on Mendelssohn's opinion of Berlioz's music
"Discover Ohio!"
"That's why they make fun of it in cartoons and Bond movies - because it's that damn good." - on the love theme from Romeo & Juliet
"Powerpoint lectures mean non-thought."
"That's how geniuses write." - on his own atrocious handwriting (self-described as "nontriadic")
"He never would have graduated. A bearded French professor, probably Saint-Saens, would have said, 'Are you laughing at me?'" - on Debussy's use of parallel 5ths & octaves
"I'll get this - I do have a music degree." - upon multiple failed attempts to play the melody of Alexander Nevsky
"I have a problem with nicknames like 'Sappy.' You're supposed to derive your nicknames from the three names you're given." - commentary on his wife's uncle's nickname
"What's the next big thing?" - Haas .... "Gaga-ism! ..... I can't believe how bad I homo-ed it up." - Thomas
"When I was growing up, women hadn't been discovered yet."
"Oh, I know this one - it's 'General What's-his-face goes to Hell!'" - Thomas .... "You mean 'General William Booth Enters into Heaven?'" - PC

Don't call me. I'll call you.

2010-05-05T11:44:00.004-04:00

This morning has been a fiesta (in keeping with today's Cinco de Drinko de Mayo theme). Music history exam, bad coffee, and then I got tracked down by the f****** census police. To be honest, I think I rocked the exam and the coffee was entirely my fault - it doesn't keep overnight.

However, I had nothing to do with the census police. I was just sitting on the couch eating my chicken biscuit, trying to finish up my 15 page case study, and generally wishing I could just leave for the farmers market when I hear a knock at the door. I hop up, hoping that it's the mailman with my freshly rehaired bow, and am greeted instead by some punk kid with a census hat and a clipboard. With hardly a preamble he starts asking for information on everyone living at my humble residence....

Apparently he didn't realize that he was interrupting my breakfast. You all know how great a plan that is.

I unleashed my inner biatch. I try never to do that, especially to strangers, but I snapped. I told him I didn't want to give the government all of my information, demanded ID, answered the bare minimum of questions with curt replies, and told him that he had 3 minutes, not 10, to nag me and only because census stuff is in the Constitution. [By the way, there are a few other bits of the Constitution you government people might want to check out. Like all of it.] I made it clear that I did not appreciate his intrusion on my life, my writing, and my breakfast, and only stopped short of actually cursing him. Stupid government pawn.

I know. Shame on me. In retrospect, I should have made him wait while I walked back to my bedroom, grabbed my pocket Constitution, and laboriously searched for the correct pages that discuss the U.S. census. And then I should have said that I was a Polynesian male and have 3 transgender roommates of various and sordid backgrounds. Or I could have just spoken in Spanish the whole time.

Fyi, no, you may not have my phone number and the best hours at which to call me. Take a hint. Go away.

The sequel to: "Do not mess with the affairs of dragons, for you are crunchy and taste good with ketchup."

2010-05-02T14:24:00.000-04:00

Sarah found a good bumper sticker! It read:

Vegetarian: Sioux word for "poor hunter."

Excellence.

Alien music.

2010-04-28T12:06:00.001-04:00

How much is wrong with my life if I find requiems to be uplifting? Currently playing: Brahms' A German Requiem as performed by the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. Disclaimer: I do not support the Mormon way of life. I just like that, as part of their indoctrination, they sing in tune.

Tom Cruise shouldn't be cooking his baby's placenta either.

2010-04-25T22:30:00.001-04:00

I know I'm supposed to be doing all those assignments that I complained about in my earlier post, but in my 5 minute break for each hour I came across this obscenity and was stunned. This is an unprecedented level of disgusting. Appalled doesn't even begin to describe my reaction. And you can bet your ass that I won't be having any White Russians for a while - they have been defiled.

"Before Beethoven was deaf, he could hear."

2010-04-25T11:12:00.002-04:00

That's your cliffhanger for the week: "Before Beethoven was deaf, he could hear." Full post of ridiculous quotes from my professors to come following:

a 15 page fictional case study for Music in Special Education, currently titled "Using Beat Competency to Improve Speech Communication in Children with Hearing Impairment." Thrilling.
a 15 minute powerpoint presentation/activities session relating to that case study.
a 10-12 page research paper on Candide the operetta as it developed through the decades, complete with musical analysis.
a notebook for elementary practicum.
a notebook for elementary methods.
a String Project concert.
a student recital.

I really hope that's all I have to do by Wednesday. I've been busy before, but this is absurd.

"Go to the pool you skank!"

2010-04-17T16:24:00.003-04:00

"Go to the pool you skank!"

That is what some boys just shouted at me across the parking lot as they pulled out in their POS car circa 1992.

Really?

To set the record straight, I was laying down on the porch, reading a book, fully clothed (polka dot shorts and a tie dye t-shirt I might add), and primarily interested in letting my hair dry and enjoying the lovely weather. Hardly skank-like. Skanks don't read. Skanks don't wear clothes. And the pool is currently populated with a full army of skanks to ridicule.

Moral of the story: boys are stupid and immature. And stupid. With a side of stupid. With stupid on top. And fyi, you don't stand a chance of picking up girls if you act like that and drive such a shitty car. That's probably for the best -- I see Darwin Awards in your future.

Gotta keep those standards high...

2010-04-09T19:38:00.003-04:00

Ever woken up with the sensation that you were run over by a bulldozer repeatedly through the course of the night and then got up only to be smacked by a boulder Wile E. Coyote style? Yeah, feeling like that. It probably didn't help that I also woke up approximately every 10 minutes starting at 5 am (which, I suspect, is the hour at which the Nyquil wore off). I don't know if my problems are simply a combination of too much yelling at the Braves game and allergies or if I'm about to be annihilated by the piggly wiggly flu, but I've been consuming vitamin C like it's my job.

And Facebook provides another funny -- unrelated but still amusing.

"The beef jerky got me."

2010-04-04T22:55:00.002-04:00

The BFG has asked me to share this delightful link with the masses as it involves something massive. And beef jerky. Can't go wrong with that combo, right?

Story of my life.

2010-04-01T23:39:00.003-04:00

I tried to make soup again this week (I've managed twice: chicken noodle & egg drop). It was supposed to look like this recipe.

Absolute failure.

Usually my soups turn out as hearty stews due to my tendency to ignore recommended ingredient measurements, but this time I missed that boat completely. I'm not entirely sure where I went wrong, but it may have had something to do with the large onion, 5 carrots instead of 2, 3 celery sticks instead of 2, a bit more tomato than called for, and, most likely, the entire box of pasta that I dumped in instead of the suggested cup. Singular.

For the record, an extra cup or so of broth is not enough to counter 5ish extra cups of pasta. I basically ended up with pasta plus veggies plus sausage with a hint of tomato sauce. It still tasted pretty good.....

My bad?

"and then gently return it to it's place and tell them that their s*** doesn't stink"

2010-03-22T13:25:00.005-04:00

Perusing Facebook while listening to a recording of one's recently completed recital can lead to some interesting finds. For example, I give you this photo taken from the group "An Arbitrary Number of People Demanding That Some Sort of Action Be Taken":

Thought provoking, no? The caption read "There seems to have been some sort of action taken by Congress last night. We are checking on it now." How appropriate.

In related news, yes Daddy, I'm working through that book.

"This is going to max out my stress level!" -- Isaac, a 9-year-old cellist

2010-03-19T13:50:00.004-04:00

You said it, Isaac.

T-minus 3 hours until my version of the Recital of Doom (Emily gets credit for the original). I'm taking advise from Ryane and watching home makeover shows on HGTV to pass the time I would otherwise spend over-practicing or twitching nervously. TV really doesn't get any more mindless.

And I guess I'm going to class at 3:35. I can at least pretend to pay attention to a lecture on using music therapy and music education to enrich the lives of students with autism or whatever disability is covered in chapter 9.

Time to channel The Hitchhiker's Guide... again.

2010-03-10T22:48:00.003-05:00

9 days until the recital. (Friday, 5:00 Edge Hall)

Brahms Sonata in E Minor & Foss Capriccio for Cello and Piano + whatever Wilson is playing.

DON'T PANIC

-----

I'm sure you've heard of Johannes Brahms. If not, click here for a requisite and 100% historically accurate introduction.

I'm sure you've never heard of Lukas Foss. (Ditto here before August.) Quite honestly, his Capriccio comes across as the bastard child of jazz, Copeland, and Ives, plus something distinct that puts a barrier between his music and absolute cacophony. Listen for his use of the opening motive in various forms throughout the piece and you'll follow along just fine. Or just grin and bear it - it's short.

-----

At this point, I'm really over this recital. Yes, I'm still nervous, I know I won't play perfectly, and I might completely crash and burn in a few spots, but I'm ready to move on to something different. I want new music to go with my haircut and my shiny necklace and everything else I've done to move on. New leaf. Y una otra margarita por favor.

I get by with a little help from my friends.

2010-02-26T08:30:00.003-05:00

I've pretty much been an emotional train wreck for most of the week, despite appearances after Monday. Getting dumped sucks, even more so when the guy has no answers, just irrational behavior and botched clichés. However, friends are amazing. They talk with you, hug with you, cry with you, eat with you, cut your hair, take you out for retail therapy, distract you with movies and M&Ms, offer to drive for hours and take you home if getting sloshed is the only answer, and tell you how much you deserve someone who adores you always and won't put you on the back burner. Thank you friends.

On a good note, I have absolutely no time to dwell on things. On the extensive to-do list:

Mahler 5 concert (which, by the way, we have no business playing - it's tragic) + 2 rehearsals
final draft of a music history paper
music text reviews for elementary ed.
elem. ed. practicum - I teach my first lesson in the elementary school this week, so I have to figure out what I'm going to teach and write up a lesson plan
memorize 10000000 developmental stages from birth to 6 years for a quiz, plus other stuff
compose the exposition of a sonata
teach a lesson on tone color in elem. ed.
teach cello lessons & String Project
go to class
practice.... recital in three weeks (really 2 with Spring Break)
survive until Spring Break

I think I can, I think I can, I think I can, I think I can....

Don't even bother pointing out my pathetic lack of social life.

2010-02-06T21:32:00.002-05:00

It's Saturday night and I'm sitting in dear Jittery Joe's with a latte (well, 1/4 of it) and my extensive music history text and scores. Monday's exam only partially excuses my lameness. However, I have come to the enlightened conclusion (appropriate considering our recent discussions of Enlightenment musical style) that some of these historical composers have the most unfortunate names.

Consider Gluck. His parents were doing just fine with Christoph Gluck, a solid, strong name. But then they threw in the most laughable middle name: Willibald. Although it may not be such a ridiculous name in German, I was unable to stifle a mild chortle as I wrote his name in my notes. Willibald. Poor thing.

Then we have Johann Joachim Koch. I'm sure many a young English-speaking music student has mispronounced his last name with disastrous results.

There is no excuse for the butchering of other more universally recognized names, but that certainly doesn't stop the population at large (and even those who consider themselves well-versed in the field of music). It is well known that a certain director in northeast Georgia pronounces certain composers such as Beethoven, Chopin, and Bach as (and I will do my best here) Beeth-hoe-ven, Chop-in' (the Southern form of chopping), and, my personal favorite, Batch (as in a batch of cookies). I'm certain there are others.

Fyi, Wikipedia and numerous other websites have a pronunciation option that can aid the music amateur and professional alike. Please. Go.

Start chugging your prune juice...

2010-01-24T11:34:00.004-05:00

The Natural Laxative Cookbook. Available on Amazon for as little as 1 cent. I pity the plumbing.

Also found: The Good Health Microwave Cookbook, The TV Guide Celebrity Cookbook (are they putting Joan Rivers on the grill?), It Was on Fire When I Last Checked on It, and The Official Couch Potato Cookbook. Amazon is gold.

Sunshine, rainbows, and unicorns (the last being Ben's favorite)

2010-01-20T19:02:00.003-05:00

How to fix a bad mood:

Buy only chicken and waffles from the grocery store and suddenly realize the humor.
Eat a snickerdoodle.
Listen to your String Project kids play March Heroic.
Get your elem. ed. practicum placement fixed and not have to drive an hour each way.
Make too much lentil stew.
Wear slippers to all classes after noon.
Drink coffee.
Have a conversation with Rylan Smith (perpetually entertaining for their unexpected topics and mild to complete inappropriateness).
Go to the gym 5 days in a row!

Ok, maybe that last one isn't necessarily a recipe for smiles, but I'm trying to better myself and I've gotta make it a habit somehow.

Band-Aid covers the bullet hole.

2010-01-18T16:37:00.002-05:00

Did you ever notice that the Band-Aid boxes have braille writing on them?

And now, back to cookie baking, lentil stew making, homework, swimming, cello, room cleaning, and whatever else I'm supposed to get done today.

Other goal for today: don't slay people due to their stupidity and rudeness. For the record, the offer of a donut does not fix any problem other than PMS (and even that's debatable - chocolate would be infinitely more effective) and just confirms one's d-bag life status. Yes, I might be a bit on the pissed side of things right now. Hence the cooking.

Next up on TLC's What Not To Wear!

2009-12-28T18:53:00.004-05:00

To quote Stephanie's oft-used phrase, "Oh dear."

These are sweaters that my sisters and I received for Christmas this year. Let me say, human beings only have so much graciousness in them and it does not extend to these fashion faux pas.

We have, from left to right, the technicolor prison bar kaleidoscope/acid trip, the wild rice explosion, and the quintessential Christmas tacky sweater party sweater. Such sights to behold...

Now taking baking requests!

2009-12-25T19:30:00.009-05:00

Merry Christmas world!

Say hello to my new friend. Yes, somehow I will be making room for it on my extraordinarily limited counter space, at least on special occasions.

To be made:

chocolate chip cookies (must christen the mixer with a classic)

cappuccino fudge cheesecake

Any requests/recommendations? Send recipes.

I must also comment on the Christmas Day dinner:

fabulous smoked duck (flavored with apples, oranges, onions, and rub), courtesy of the BFG & the Big Green Egg
green bean casserole, a standard
homemade mac n cheese, one of the BFG's finest creations

Upon reading this, your stomach should be crying out for just one tiny morsel of deliciousness.

Random stuff, random stuff: AKA ear-eye-eye-ear big f*** difference!

2009-12-20T19:19:00.008-05:00

What I've accomplished since the end of exams: diddly squat. Granted, sickness doesn't help things, but I've watched far too much TV in the past few days.... NCIS, NCIS:LA, Glee, the Hangover, the Jungle Book, a Muppet Christmas Carol, America's Next Top Model, Sweet Home Alabama, the Wizard of Oz, Finding Nemo, and (as a low point) Cribs on MTV. Removing the elephantine pressure from my nose would greatly increase productivity.

Tomorrow's goal: complete all Christmas shopping. This is especially challenging due to a total lack of a clue when it comes to getting gifts and the fact that the only gift I've purchased this year was a white elephant gift. So what does everyone want for Christmas?

Good news for the week: B+ in music history! Halfway through the semester I was fairly certain that a C would be a miracle, so I'm feeling rather ecstatic about the B+. You should try to memorize 1000 years of music history before you judge. Define motet. Define madrigal. Describe the use of Gregorian chant from it's conception through the time of Bach and Handel. Describe how composers were influence by politics or religion. Aurally identify a piece of music by type within 30 seconds and then state three reasons why the piece typifies that genre. Etc. Yeah, you should feel a little overwhelmed. But it's all over now. Until January 7 when we pick up with everything composed since 1750.

Cold fighting remedy #17: chicken noodle soup based off of this recipe. I used wheat spaghetti instead of egg noodles (too mushy), added a dash of rosemary, nixed the onions (blame that one on a picky eater... you know I would never cut onions from a dish without good reason), and didn't measure a thing. Two roommates and the boyfriend gave it two thumbs way up.

Now, to finish watching Ratatouille and continue the blob-fest....

In honor of the coming difficult days...

2009-12-01T07:27:00.002-05:00

Finding Nemo... in German. Just watch it. It warms the soul. Einfach schwimmen, einfach schwimmen, einfach schwimmen schwimmen schwimmen....

Finally, a useful service...?

2009-11-29T14:40:00.002-05:00

Rent an ex-husband.

Bet you never thought you'd need that one, huh? Boy were you wrong. This was advertised on the back and sides of a pick-up truck on I-85. There was a phone number. Rent an ex-husband, call (404)-XXX-XXXX.

Wtf people? Who's keeping this creep in business???

Lesson of the Day:

2009-11-21T18:05:00.004-05:00

I am so much more productive when I don't have to worry about essays and exams. Por ejemplo, I...

baked cookies at midnight. They are delicious and abundantly chocolaty and taste fabulous with coffee.
cleaned the kitchen from the counters up.
sewed -- fixed a chair cushion and my purse.
did laundry.
Kaylee & I went handyman on something of Katelyn's (sorpresa when she gets back!).
am in the process of cleaning the kitchen from the counters down, cleaning my room, and vacuuming the 1st floor.
am about to cook teriyaki garlic ginger chicken and veggie stir fry with rice.

I think that's a pretty good list, especially considering I also didn't really get out of bed until 12:30 or so. Break is awesome.

An apology

2009-11-16T21:45:00.004-05:00

Dear blog,

I've been neglecting you of late and I must apologize. I could make excuses, lamenting my overwhelming load of classes/rehearsals/concerts, my teaching schedule, and the amount of time that I must dedicate to homework and practicing, but I must follow the rules -- I am not 14 and therefore am not allowed to make excuses. An apology must suffice instead, accompanied by a sincere intention to pay you more attention following the completion of the semester.

A thousand apologies,

P.S. Thanksgiving Break countdown.... 5...4...3...2...1...!!!!!!!

An "opportunity for excellence".... or something like that.

2009-10-22T23:04:00.002-04:00

I'm playing for Lynn Harrell in a master class this weekend. Brahms E Minor Mvt. 1. I'm torn between excited and scared shitless. And why does Edge Hall always have to be so damn cold?!

A much-needed break.

2009-10-16T06:42:00.003-04:00

GEORGIA @ VANDERBILT!

I'm kinda pumped for this weekend, and I do believe that the authors of the Norton Anthology of Western Music owe me a drink for the pain they put me through this week. At least the madrigal, chanson, and mass of the 16th century weren't nearly as dull as those of previous centuries. Palestrina knew his shit. Yay for the Counter-Reformation and polyphonic masses with intelligible text settings! (But much love to Martin Luther as well - way to create an entire body of liturgical music from scratch in one lifetime.)

It is now time for me to make yet another pot of coffee (why no officer, I did not consume an entire pot of coffee two days ago..... it was only 5 or 6 cups.....). Tis the only way to survive an encounter with a high school guitar class. As seen on a t-shirt: Paddle faster! I hear banjos!

It's days like these...

2009-09-26T18:46:00.002-04:00

... when I wish I lived in the mountains. Is there anything better than a mountain thunderstorm? I would sit on my porch, gently rocking back and forth to the roll of the thunder and watching lightning bounce off the mountain tops. And I would sip my iced coffee and sigh a sigh of contentment.

Alas, I do not. I am only treated to the sight of rain in the parking lot while the air conditioning unit drowns out Mother Nature. However, I will look on the bright side: I have the Yankees on TV, Brahms in my ear, and an iced coffee in hand. I suppose the mountains can wait.

Life update:

2009-09-12T18:50:00.002-04:00

I'm alive.

What have I learned this week?

Concerts and preceding rehearsals take up far too much time, but they cannot be avoided.
Midnight is a bad hour to begin researching/writing a midterm paper on the music of troubadours.
4:30 AM is a bad hour to finish aforementioned paper.
5:30 AM is a bad hour at which to wake up.
One hour of sleep (or less) does not adequately prepare a person to observe a classroom, go to class, pay attention, drive, give recruitment presentations, deal with small children, deal with people, or generally function as a useful member of the human race.
Coffee is indeed the drink of the gods.... and sleep deprived college students.

I don't think I'll try this again. Now, it is time for me to make my stir fry teriyaki shrimp, veggies, & rice, drink my vodka tonic, and watch the Georgia football game. Go Dawgs!

Don't expect to hear from me this week.

2009-09-07T21:45:00.003-04:00

Why?

Music History -- listening journal, 1st draft of midterm paper
Educational Foundations -- exam 1, field observation
Symphony Orchestra -- can you say concert week? rehearsal, dress rehearsal, post-dress rehearsal drinks/complaint session, concert
Cello -- Bach is new, Brahms is rough, Schumann is dreadful, Foss hasn't been shipped, Popper is impossible, lesson on Thursday
String Project -- 1st class this week, plus 2 more recruitment sessions in my "free time"
Lessons -- must pass on cello knowledge and get paid
Conducting, Quartet, Instrumentation/Arranging -- ...because my life isn't busy enough

Get the picture? I'll try to update next weekend so you'll know if I survived or not. Peace out.

Naked Man Hijacks Atlanta School Bus

2009-08-28T21:36:00.002-04:00

Who could resist reading further after a title like that? "Not I," said the duck. "Not I," said the goose. "Not I" said the pig.

In his defense, the title exaggerates a bit. It should actually read "Nearly Naked Man Hijacks Atlanta School Bus." After all, artistic license can only be take so far before it just gets out of control.

Sarah bids me to tell you all "you're welcome" for sharing yet another vital link.

Robert Schumann,

2009-08-26T18:09:00.004-04:00

... in addition to being clinically insane in the later portion of his life, had entirely unrealistic ideas about the shifting capabilities of both the average and not-so-average cellist. So awkward, but such is the life of a musician.

Oh hello school. How nice to see you again...

2009-08-16T20:01:00.002-04:00

I am a senior. That sentence really should have an exclamation mark at the end, but the excitement dissipates a bit when I realize that I have an additional senior year to follow the current one.

Two years until graduation. Two years until graduation. Only two years until graduation.

Maybe if I say that enough times I'll feel better? Or I could call myself a "super senior" as Sarah so nicely put it?

Well, until the warm, happy feelings kick in, I'll finish setting up the apartment, practice my symphony audition excerpts (chortle chortle), and try to get settled into year.... SEVENTEEN of my academic career. Only four to go! (By the way, that absolutely deserves an exclamation mark.)

Mexican style chicken soup

2009-08-03T15:12:00.002-04:00

I know, I know - it's summer in Georgia. It's hot. It's humid. There are more mosquitos than kudzu leaves. So why on earth would I feel compelled to share the recipe for a hot, spicy dish with you? Am I crazy? Probably. Or perhaps I feel that, sometimes, heat can be overcome by different heat. In any case, it worked a couple of weeks ago.

(I apologize in advance for the lack of measurements. I just really don't bother with them when I cook. I use enough dishes and cutlery without breaking out the measuring cups.)

Mexican style chicken soup

3 chicken breasts
olive oil
red pepper
cumin
salt
chicken broth
corn
baby carrots
onion(s) (Spanish or Vidalia), chunked
garlic
cilantro
habañero pepper (about 1/4 to 1/2 a pepper, depending on how much heat you can take)

Tenderize the chicken and marinade overnight in EVOO, pepper, cumin, and salt. Bake chicken.

Sautee the onion chunks and garlic in olive oil, season with salt and black pepper. Add the broth/veggies and allow to simmer until the carrots are cooked through. Season with salt, pepper, cumin as needed. Chop up chicken and add at end to prevent overcooking.

This tastes excellent with a few warm corn tortillas. It would also have been great to add avocado, lime, rice, celery, etc., but my cabinet and freezer were running low on supplies. Such are the trials of moving.

Auf wiedersehen mein haus.

2009-07-30T16:29:00.004-04:00

Ah chaos, how I have not missed thee.

I'm in the midst of packing up everything I've needed/accumulated in the Riverdale house over the past year in anticipation of moving tomorrow. Can you say "disaster area?" This place has character (put nicely), but I won't miss it too much.

The last mystery will be revealed tomorrow -- there's a oil drum in the basement that may be empty, or it may contain an oozing corpse whose atoms are slowly being broken down by means of acid. I will be looking in the oil drum right before I hand over my key tomorrow. It remains to be seen whether boredom or a call to the authorities will be the correct response.

I leave you with the following quote that a previous tenant so kindly wrote on the wall of my bedroom. I've certainly been amused by it.

Marcos is gay in San Francisco, black in South Africa, an Asian in Europe, a Chicano in San Ysidro, and anarchist in Spain, a Palestinian in Israel, a Mayan Indian in the streets of San Cristobal, a Jew in Germany, a Gypsy in Poland, a Mohawk in Quebec, and pacifist in Bosnia, a single woman on the Metro at 10 PM, a peasant without land, a gang member in the slums, an unemployed worker, an unhappy student, and, of course, a Zapatista in the mountains.

Feel like an exploited, oppressed, abused minority figure yet? I must say, it is quite possible to change your life situation if you put forth the effort and stop blaming The Man for all your woes.

In desperate need of a reality check

2009-07-13T10:56:00.006-04:00

I know that common sense is deplorably uncommon, but I'm here to help. Read and acquire. (For your convenience, I've added links to Wikipedia to help clear up any terms you may not understand.)

Scientific evidence almost certainly indicates that Earth is 4.5 billion years old. Dinosaurs had their party starting about 230 million years ago and then kicked the bucket about 65 million years ago. Humans have been around for about 200,000 years, give or take a few days.

Humans and dinosaurs did not coexist. This really isn't debatable. I know the human race isn't perfect, but I don't think the scientific community could possibly be off by almost 65 million years. I give them a million year margin of error, tops. Baby Jesus did not relax in his cradle next to a baby brontosaurus. The Biblical shepherds never chased a fearsome t-rex away from their sheep.

Religion is fine. It is an extraordinarily helpful tool for people who use their faith to make it through each day. I've got no problem with faith as long as it isn't forced upon me. Keep your religion harmless, and keep it to yourself. I won't have any beef with you. However, I would greatly appreciate it if you would accept a modicum of logic along with your faith. Apes and dinos didn't share a cave. The Creation Museum is a farce of the greatest magnitude.

To close things out, Lewis Black has a few enlightening/colorful things to say on the subject of creationism and those people who believe it blindly:

There are people who believe that humans dinosaurs co-existed, that they roamed the Earth at the same time. There are museums that children go to, in which they build dioramas to show them this. And what this is, purely and simply, is a clinical psychotic reaction. They are crazy. They are stone-cold-fuck nuts. I can't be kind about this, because these people are watching The Flinstones as if it were a documentary.

Whenever someone says they believe the Earth was created in 7 days, I grab a fossil and say, "Fossil." And if they keep talking, I throw it just over their heads.

Word of the Day: "Peemergency"

2009-07-08T12:20:00.004-04:00

Katelyn just walked into my room and asked me if I had to use the bathroom before she occupied the shower for some prolonged length of time. I made a gesture to indicate the presence of a towel on my head and generally imply that I had already had my morning toilet. Her response: "Well, I wanted to make sure you weren't going to have a 'peemergencey.'" The creation of this word fills me with untold levels of joy.

And now, back to A Walk in the Woods and the ever-entertaining anecdote of Bill Bryson and Stephen Katz's journey on the Appalachian Trail.

A belated 4th of July gift.

2009-07-06T00:04:00.003-04:00

For the first time in years, I actually did a proper job of celebrating the 4th of July and went down to Savannah to see the fireworks over the river. Beach time, River Street, many hilarious moments, a sunrise that I hardly saw out of one bloodshot eye (Lewis Black would understand), loud music, etc. = excellent trip. However, my friend and I could have marked our journey as a success about two hours into the drive. I give you photo evidence of why. And no, we did not photoshop these pictures. I love rural Georgia.

Haunting.

2009-06-29T15:05:00.002-04:00

I never get tired of listening to the opening of the first movement of the Sibelius Violin Concerto.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nU0KAKANow0

Hint: turn your volume way up to hear the whole opening. It begins with a few bars of orchestra sans violin solo.

There aren't enough pretty things in Georgia.

2009-06-23T17:14:00.002-04:00

I have a nearly overwhelming urge to drive somewhere beautiful. However, I don't want to spend the requisite 24+ hours in a car to get to the Rockies. I think I'll just have to settle for the mountains of North Carolina when I visit Andrew. The Appalachians just don't quite compete with the mountains of the West.

Happy Birthday Igor!

2009-06-17T10:38:00.004-04:00

Today would be Igor Stravinsky's 127th birthday. May I suggest listening to his Rite of Spring? The recording with Benjamin Zander and the Boston Phil is quite nice.

Another note to brides.

2009-06-14T12:15:00.002-04:00

I feel like this should all be obvious, but apparently it's not.

Do not schedule summer weddings outdoors if you live below the Mason-Dixon Line. It's too hot. And there are bugs. Billions of bugs. Flying into my eyes.
It is not appropriate to march down the aisle to "Georgia on my Mind." As Katelyn put it, "That's painful."
It is also not appropriate to have your aged grandparents walk/get wheeled down the aisle to the love theme from Romeo and Juliet. The song is sad, and people die in the end. Think before choosing music.
If you have your bridesmaid sing "The Luckiest," make sure she can actually sing on freaking pitch. She was consistently flat, but at least she belted it...?

A letter with a hint of cynicism.

2009-05-31T14:25:00.004-04:00

Dear brides,

Tiaras... so tacky.

And stop thinking that you're "omg totally original" for having Uncle Joe read 1 Corinthians 13: 4-7 during the wedding ceremony. I promise you're not. It's been done.

Also, the string ensemble you hired would be eternally grateful if you wouldn't allow quasi-tone deaf Cousin Becky to sing during the ceremony with only 45 desperate minutes of rehearsal. If she can't count a measure of rests, just say no. Leave the music to the professionals, thank you very much.

Congratulations on this blessed day. May you not be divorced within the year.

Sincerely,

Can you hold it?

2009-05-28T16:15:00.004-04:00

Per request, I share with you the following website: Runpee.com.

Do not stop reading at just the name of the website. I swear it has nothing to do with my relationship with copious quantities of unsweet tea. Check it out before you head to the theater.

Things that make me smile.

2009-05-25T20:56:00.002-04:00

The first lightning bug of summer: how whimsical.

Epic Pie

2009-05-20T22:37:00.004-04:00

I know, I've kept you all waiting for ages. It has been far too long since I've blogged, but that's what happens when I have final exams, final papers, and a jury. However, I have spent the intervening time well - I bought a coffee maker, made excellent use of Ryane's KitchenAid Mixer, and cooked a lot.

To repent for my absence, I give you now a fabulous pizza recipe. Katelyn and I made it this evening. In her words, "This pizza requires stamina.... This is possibly the best pizza I've ever had. I mean... f***... really. And I've had a lot of pizzas."

1 ball Publix dough (look in the bakery section)

3 large spicy Italian sausage links

baby bella mushrooms, sliced

1/2 large Spanish onion, sliced

1 28 oz. can diced tomatoes, drained

dried oregano

mozzarella cheese

parmesan cheese

pure olive oil

1) Spread out dough on large baking sheet or pizza pan, using flour to keep from sticking.

2) In a large skillet, cook sausage over medium heat until no longer pink. Drain.

3) Saute mushrooms and onion in oil until onion is tender. Stir in drained tomatoes and oregano.

4) Spread sausage and mushroom/onion/tomato mixture over crust. Sprinkle Parmesan cheese and mozzarella cheese on top.

5) Bake at 350 degrees for 25-35 minutes or until crust is golden brown.

(adapted from The Taste of Home Cookbook recipe for Chicago-Style Pan Pizza)

Sugar and schadenfruede.

2009-05-03T13:52:00.007-04:00

My new way to procrastinate: BAKE. Bake a lot. For example, there are currently two small chocolate rum cakes cooling on top of my stove with a third larger chocolate rum cake finishing up in the oven. It's probably a good thing that I haven't bought a KitchenAid Mixer yet - no cookies until I get one.

And from your favorite blogger who brought you fmylife.com and failblog.org, I give you a new way to pass any remaining time: textsfromlastnight.com.

My pillow and I are friends again.

2009-05-01T11:10:00.003-04:00

I slept in today. I had forgotten what it felt like to do that. Now, what should I do for the rest of Reading Day. Study? Practice? Make coffee? Grocery shop? Definitely those last two. We'll see about the first.

"Swiss heartland voters ban nude hiking"

2009-04-26T14:14:00.001-04:00

APPENZELL, Switzerland – Voters in the heart of the Swiss Alps have banned naked hiking after dozens of mostly German nudists started rambling through their picturesque region.

By a show of hands citizens of the tiny canton (state) of Appenzell Inner Rhodes voted overwhelmingly at their traditional open-air annual assembly to impose a 200 Swiss franc ($176) fine on violators.

Only a scattering of people on Sunday opposed the ban on the back-to-nature activity that took off last autumn.

The cantonal government recommended the ban after determining that citizens had found nude hiking to be "thoroughly disturbing and irritating."

A similar legal move is expected in neighboring Appenzell Outer Rhodes with legislation being prepared against "this shameless behavior."

Ben said I should report this to the world.

2009-04-21T18:49:00.003-04:00

I saw Mark Richt up close for the first time Sunday night. (For those of you who don't live in the South or follow SEC football, he's the head football coach at UGA. Go Dawgs and all that jazz.) He was wearing a tan blazer. It matched his tan face. I laughed.

And more humor (much needed after the last two days)... I wrote my twelve-tone theory composition in the hour before orchestra rehearsal today. Listening to the piece prompted much chortling. So did playing Hoedown from Rodeo by Copeland in rehearsal today. I felt like I was back in high school, except I play more in tune now.

Actually no, I don't want to talk with you about "my attitude towards you." F****** go away and don't talk to me.

2009-04-20T12:51:00.003-04:00

I'm afraid that this blog is becoming a place for me to rant rather than ramble.

I've entered super-bitch mode. Oh how fun the dark side is.

I'm standing around the kitchen late last night/this morning because my roommate broke her foot and 3 of us are trying to make her comfortable, etc. I keep on catching a whiff of something nasty, but I can't quite pinpoint where it's coming from. So I take out my trusty nose and go scouting about the kitchen. What do I find?

Rotten, oozing, molding, liquified, putrid tomatoes.

Two weeks old at least. They've been festering on the counter of ... ROOMMATE X. Yes, she's back at full strength and going above and beyond the call of duty to nastiness. Apparently, the stratified, growing week-old chocolate milk wasn't enough. Oh no. A grocery sack of rotten tomatoes that leaked all over the counter and was partially soaked up by the box of Cheerios. I think we've gone a few steps beyond nasty. What do you think?

Katelyn had already left a couple of WTF? sticky notes for Roommate X pertaining to the piece of cooked chicken/general mess on the stove and the 3-course meal she left in the sink drain. I felt obligated to add a third WTF? for the tomatoes. All four of us felt that this was a considerably nicer reaction than deserved considering the situation.

I come home this afternoon and check out the fridge door. It has yet another thoughtful note that demands payment of the internet bill or the password will be changed (btw, you haven't exactly been prompt with your checks for others).

Check paid bitch. And no, I don't want to talk with you about "my attitude towards you." I didn't dump the damn tomatoes all over your room, so be grateful. I've had it with you. You just don't give a damn about anyone but yourself. So yes, I yelled and cussed at you and didn't let you say a thing while I said exactly what I've been thinking for months, and I don't care anymore. I'm done trying to talk with you about your complete disregard for anyone else. You haven't learned from subtle hints, gentle prompting, kind requests, calm open discussion, not-so-subtle hostility, or blatent remarks. What else is there? So take your friend's "still life project," as you so defended it, and shove it up your ass. It's still rotting outside.

Sorry to complain again, but I need an outlet and this is so convenient.

2009-04-19T18:45:00.004-04:00

My biatch roommate is finally cleaning up (amongst the pile of nasty) a glass of stratified, growing chocolate milk from.... last Sunday.

She had the nerve to ask me to take my 5 dishes out of the drying rack when I had a guest over, couldn't wait 5 minutes until I finished with the laundry, and instead just piled them on the counter. Obviously it was so difficult to walk 5 feet to the cabinet to actually put them away. And like I told her, they were still wet. Seeking answer as to why she couldn't have washed everything after she so rudely asked me to move my pan from the sink 3 seconds after I walk in the door on Friday. She sat around the house for 3.5 hours and only added to the dish mountain.

I hope she reads this and maybe gets a clue as to why nobody in the house wants to talk to her. Also: the stratified chocolate milk is the reason I haven't given you the check for the internet bill. My friend today thought you were quite the bitch too without a single comment from me, so it's really not just me. It's you. Rude.

Q: What the heck should I do with all this leftover cilantro?

2009-04-19T18:34:00.003-04:00

A: Obviously, make Mexican style chicken soup. Enjoy!

ingredients:

1 white onion

corn

cilantro

1-2 small tomatoes

1 cup rice (I used basmati, but I think pretty much anything would work)

1 large clove garlic

1/2 habañero pepper (optional, but the kick is killer - just don't touch your face and wash your hands like there's no tomorrow)

salt and pepper to taste

a dash of cumin

approx. 2 tbs. EVOO

vegetable stock (at least one of those cardboard containers, two couldn't hurt)

3 chicken breasts

lime juice

the plan:

*boil the chicken in a pan with some salt and olive oil until tender, cut into bite-size pieces

*cook rice (it's nice to add a tbs. of butter towards the end)

*add vegetable stock to rice

*chop up/dice everything that needs chopping/dicing and throw it in the pot

*add spices, EVOO, lime juice

*low heat for about 20 minutes, stir occasionally

*eat (very good with cheese)

An epiphany.

2009-04-15T06:57:00.003-04:00

I realized that I'm doing the insane asylum thing in reverse, reaction before action. I willingly lock myself in tiny soundproof rooms, as a sort of therapy before I go out into the world of teaching middle school. Like I said, reaction before action.

Someone should probably sedate me.

Forever loved, never forgotten.

2009-04-13T23:50:00.001-04:00

Phillip Silverman

"Mr. Nice Guy"

Death to stupid. Right now.

2009-04-10T07:12:00.003-04:00

It's a little after 7:00 AM. That's probably a bit early in the day for me to be pissed, but when life gives you lemons, pelt the stupid people with them. And so commences a rant.

To my roommate who's been so inconsiderate all year long and hasn't found a roommate yet that can stand living with her (hint hint about that: it might be you, not them... it just might): don't make me throw off my morning just because you're too lazy to get out of f****** bed at the correct time. One word: alarm clock. Two words: set it. Anther word: early.

Oh, and do your f****** dishes. They've been festering since last Thursday. I like to live in some degree of sanitation of which you are apparently not aware. Plus you're taking up all the counter space. I'm going to do a happy dance the day your sub-leaser moves in because she said she liked cleanliness and you obviously don't give a shit.

Cell phones. You've got a musician writing this blog, so the cell phone rant was inevitable. We performed Mendelssohn's oratorio Elijah yesterday evening. Four cell phones went off. Four. Four. Four. Four. One makes me angry, especially when it goes off right when the Youth starts to sing and the poor kids only sings for about 20 measures of the 100-minute piece. But when you hear one go off, shouldn't you then go "Oh, I should double-check that I turned my phone off because it's so rude to ruin all the work of the musicians on stage." Nope. 3 more followed. And a beeping watch.

Just in case you're confused, "Call him louder!" does not mean turn up the volume on your ringtone. That's Elijah taunting the heathens, telling them to call upon their god. The expected result: SILENCE.

It is now 25 minutes after I got up, and all I've done is this post. Again, to my roommate, f*** you.

I don't cook nearly enough.

2009-04-02T09:45:00.003-04:00

Yesterday I went to Wally World to look for some bowls to match my plates. The $30 dish set is there (which does not include the bowls I want). Individual dishes? Not in stock. So what did I do? I come away with a cart full of groceries, head home, and wreak havoc upon the kitchen. An hour later I have the heftiest of chicken stews, followed a few hours later by homemade drop biscuits (see earlier recipe). Enjoy!

32 oz. + some vegetable broth (grab two of those cardboard broth containers)

3 potatoes

1 onion

baby carrots

3 celery stalks

1 clove garlic, finely chopped

some parsley, finely chopped

1 rotisserie chicken (may I suggest lemon pepper?)

Italian seasoning

pepper

Fill large pot with broth. Chop everything up into big chunks -- stew should be hefty. Rip up chicken into manageable bites. Throw everything in the pot over med. high heat at first, then turn down to low heat. Add spices to taste. Cook until the potatoes are tender. Seriously, that's all.

Cooking time ~30 minutes (depending on how fast you chop).

Feeds many. Did I mention it was a hefty stew?

el futuro

2009-03-27T12:51:00.003-04:00

If I ever decide to give up my future career in music education, I will open either a pizza parlor or a coffee house. The pizza parlor will be named "Epic Pie." I am currently accepting names for the coffee house. Perhaps "Beyond the Bean?" I'm working on it.

My new favorite websites.

2009-03-19T18:27:00.005-04:00

The link below is only one of many fabulous things to be found at failblog.org. I'm as pleased with the discovery of this website as I was a few days ago with the discovery of fmylife.com. I hope I've brought laughter to your life by sharing these links with you. Enjoy, and happy almost weekend.

http://failblog.org/2009/03/10/nunchuck-fail/

Happy St. Patty's Day

2009-03-17T23:36:00.003-04:00

"An asian plus a blond.... it would be an albino panda bear!"

"That would be a polar bear...."

This conversation took place between my roommates and myself. None of us have had a drop to drink. We're just that tired. Where did Spring Break go???

A slightly different reaction to my near-permanent residence in the School of Music:

2009-03-17T08:59:00.011-04:00

"You're in the orchestra room??? That's kinky."

~Scott A.

Oh yeah.... HAPPY ST. PATTY'S DAY!

Today is my day.

SB'09: A summary.

2009-03-14T18:11:00.002-04:00

"I was into disco in the 80's." ~BFG, the self-proclaimed dancing queen

"Carrots - I eat them like water." ~Katelyn

"Every time I see an Agriculture Inspection sign, it makes me think of 'The Banana Song.'" ~Sarah

me to Sarah:

"McCann is the catcher. McCain was the presidential candidate."

**Upon crossing the Florida state line, the fonts on the first road signs are considerably larger than usual. Is there a possible correlation to the large percentage of semi-blind people in Florida?

**Someone please explain the function of the left turn signal when one is in the far left lane... on a highway... with no shoulder... and when one obviously has no intentions of pulling over.

**As seen on a billboard: religiouslibertyhype.com. Oh America... what have we come to?

2 ways to know that it's time for P to take a break:

2009-03-06T13:14:00.002-05:00

1) Last night I incorporated the theme from "Oops, I Did It Again" into my Impressionist theory composition.

2) This morning I was about 3 rounds into "I like to eat, eat, eat apples and bananas" before I realized I was singing anything at all. I like to uup, uup, uup uupples and banuunuus....

Spring Break. Spring Training. Life is good. Peace out until next week.

A special thank you to Ben for calling me a "wide load" just because I needed 2 stands for the Clarke. Way to make me feel like a fatty.

2009-02-28T13:00:00.007-05:00

Considering that the last two songs playing on the radio (before I muted it) yesterday were "Freak Out" and "American Pie (The Day the Music Died)," the fact that I made it through the recital without breaking my instrument or suddenly dropping dead is nothing short of miraculous.

Bach: My nerves got the best of me (as was evident by a lack of both intonation and phrasing), but at least I didn't forget the fingerings.

Bloch: Improved intonation over Bach, but not as good as

Thursday seminar. Still, I feel like I've shaved 6 months off my 20 year quest to become a Jew. Plus I got the F octave shift. Go me.

Martinu: Fairly ballin'. Poor Anatoly messed up his first page turn, but I love him anyway. Silly Russian...

Clarke: I got the C sharp octave shift in the Grotesque movement. Go me round 2.

Love love love to everyone who showed up and provided emotional/mental support! Lord knows I needed all the help I could get. And now I have super pretty flowers on my dining room table.

I will be useless as a human being until Friday night.

2009-02-22T16:33:00.007-05:00

For the next 5 days, my level of happiness will be directly proportional to my level of intonation.

A poor performance on Friday will signal the immediate approach of the apocalypse.

The collective intelligence of the human species just dropped another point.

2009-02-18T14:13:00.005-05:00

"I knew we weren't taking Tic Tacs." -- A-Roid

Good call.

But perhaps I'm in no position to mock him. Yesterday I actually said the following: "I'm going psycho and it's driving me crazy."

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*** I'm still accepting input on the post below. Voice your opinions loud and clear! ***