Wednesday, April 09, 2008

Frabjous day

Personally it's raining, professionally the sun is out and the birds are singing.

Yesterday I discovered that I won the Gangemi composition scholarship at West Chester, which is lovely. I did a happy dance in the dressing room.

That afternoon, I received a call from Mike Lemon casting in Philly, asking if I'd do a voiceover gig on Friday. I have an appointment to get on their books next week, so it's kind of awesome that I'm being offered jobs before then.

I just cried on stage in Juliet's "Romeo is banished" scene for the first time -- usually I reserve the tears for the second act, which will probably suffer as a result, but yay for the "banished" scene.

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Monday, March 17, 2008

RAAARRHHHRGGGHHH

I am sick for the second time in two weeks - I blame theater and kissing. This combination was also responsible for my mono/Epstein Barr infection in 1999, so I have some history with it.

I am so behind in school work, I feel in serious danger of exploding my 4.0 this semester, which is why I am up at two in the morning trying desperately to shift the phlegm-coated and solidly rusted gearstick in my head from "acting" to "composing." Yes, I knew this would happen. But I hoped it wouldn't.

So far, I have opened Cubase, Sibelius, and Word. I am unsure whether this all-in approach will galvanize me into action, or merely dissipate my focus. Perhaps I should instead try to open only one program at a time. I will probably spend at least another fifteen minutes pondering this decision.

I should probably eat something. Maybe go to the toilet again. Oh, I just thought of an e-mail I could send. I would save time if I did all three at once, but that would not be hygienic.

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Wednesday, March 05, 2008

Two tracks from the Gonzales Cantata

Currently, when I'm not rehearsing with the Philadelphia Shakespeare Festival, I'm supposedly working on my composition degree. As I think I've mentioned on here in the past, one piece I'm working on is a cantata based on the Senate Judiciary Committee hearings of Alberto Gonzales.

Because half the reason I'm writing it is that hardly anyone I speak to in the real world seems to know anything whatsoever about Gonzales, it's pretty unashamedly pop neo-Baroque. It's about half-finished; I guess it will be about 40-45 minutes long when it's done. I created the libretto from the actual transcripts, and for shits and giggles, I reversed the genders of all the performers, so every role (Gonzales, Specter, Leahy, etc, who also all double as the chorus) is sung by a soprano or alto, with the exception of Diane Feinstein, who is a tenor. Instrumentation is chamber strings and harpsichord.

Anyway, I had two pieces from the cantata played at a new music concert at my college the other day, and I recorded a rehearsal:

Freedom Overture (har har har, it's a French overture, geddit?)
Aria: "Differently" (Gonzales)

DIFFERENTLY
Text excerpted from US Senate Judiciary Committee Hearing, April 19, 2007.

GONZALES: Looking back,
things that I would have done differently?
I should have told him,
And I think he should have --
I should have asked him
I should have told him the factors
that I thought were important for him to consider.
I should have told him,
And I think I would have told him --
I should have told him,
And we should have a list.
I think these are the things --
I think these are the kinds of things, in hindsight,
that I wish would have happened.
I think it's also unfair
(I think it’s all so unfair)
It is clear that we struggled -- not struggled –
Where we made a mistake, clearly -- I think --
is once we said "performance,"
we should have defined that.
Because performance, for me, means lots of things.
It means whether or not you've got leadership skills,
whether or not you've got management skills.
It may mean whether or not
you support the president.
It may mean that you don't have --
that you have a sufficient --
that you have relationships.
And so there are lots of things that fall within
the definition of performance-related.
And I think that we should --
we should have defined what we meant by that.


(This aria comes right before the final chorale of the cantata - "God Bless America" - and is composed of cut up quotes from the hearing -- his stumbles, mostly.)

Anyway, it's just a crappy recording from a rehearsal, but I thought I would put it out there to kick my own arse into finishing it.

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Friday, December 21, 2007

Break on through to the other side

I have been avoiding blogging because it so much has happened that writing about it is a daunting task. To lubricate the muse, here is a video that I have just watched many times in a row.


The Jingle Cats - White Christmas

Finals are over, and if the Facebook-propagated way to check grades through some kind of security flaw on the university's website is to be believed, I made it through without blemishing my 4.0, huzzah.

Finals week just about killed me, though. I hit upon a novel way of dealing with the psychological stress of 18.5 credits: every time I finished the final piece of assessment for a course, I would subtract that course's credits from my total. After the orchestration reading, for example, I was only really taking 15.5 credits. After my jury, I was down to 14, and so on. For some reason, this approach helped.

I feel like the papers I turned in really weren't my best work, but only enough to get me the grade I needed, which is a shame because they were damn interesting papers. I wouldn't mind readdressing a Marxist analysis of the music industry in grad school one day - though no doubt, by then, someone will have already written the thesis.

This week, I have a temp job in an office in Conshohocken to help pay the Christmas bills. This is important because I have been rather taken by a dress on eBay, and through the listing, by the designer, Jessika Madison-Kennedy of Dadadie Brucke. Seriously, I think this might be the new style I've been vaguely searching for these past few years.

Finding a new visual style is important right now because Matt and I are about to completely overhaul this website using this magical thing we have for two weeks called spare time.

In PHILADELPHIA IS MY OYSTER news, the Philadelphia Shakespeare Festival announced their new season with the quote: "Romeo & Juliet is directed by Carmen Khan and features Festival favorite David Raphaely and Festival newcomer Melissa Dunphy in the title roles."

Also, here is a link on the Philadelphia Orchestra website to the Network for New Music concert at the Kimmel Center next month, with a composition by me. I wonder if the fact that I am so tremendously excited and puffed up about it somewhat negates the "real composer" cred. Incidentally, if you're interested, Network for New Music has a YouTube channel.

Speaking of composition, I had the overture and an aria from the Gonzales cantata played at the end-of-semester composition final, and they've been picked up for the New Music concert at West Chester University on January 31st, which is exciting. I really should devote some of my newfound and short-lived free time to finishing as much of that sucker as I can; I'm terrified that if I delay too long, Gonzales will blow over in the news, given the fickleness of the American press and public. I was pleased to note that he made Bill Maher's Dickheads of the Year list.

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Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Kill

I want to throttle my orchestration professor.

I mean, he's cool and all, and a decent teacher, but goddamn, this was the homework for this week. Keep in mind that I am in no way hurting for things to do.

"Due Tuesday, Sept. 18
1. String project reading session: bring three revised scores and a set of parts to class.
2. Wind project. [Bring to class – digital and printed] Compose an original work in any style, approximately 2 minutes in length scored for flute, oboe, clarinet and bassoon."

ARGH! Having never written anything for winds before, writing the second project tonight was like pooping a pineapple. In a hurry.

So, yes, in case you were wondering, school is driving me nuts. I've probably bitten off more than I can chew with twenty credits, and I've embarked on a ridiculously ambitious composition project for the semester - I'm writing a cantata based on the senate judiciary hearings of Alberto Gonzales. Come on, if you had an idea like that, you'd sacrifice sleep and sanity to follow through as well. The only question in my mind is whether to call it Gonzales! The Cantata or stick to something more straight. I spent my first semester weekend cutting an 11-page libretto out of 240 pages of transcript from two separate hearings and his resignation speech. That's probably at least partly why I'm scrambling to catch up in every other aspect of my college life. Don't even ask me about practicing the cello.

The highpoint of my excessive workload is a 5-page essay assignment defending the authenticity of a modern-day rock protest musician. I will give you one guess which musician I picked. In fact, I give you no guesses; you ought to know.

The worst thing about all this is I love it. School is killing me, and giving me murderous thoughts, but I fucking love it. School is crack. I would make a pun here about school shootings, but add that to the faux death-threat at the beginning of this blog entry, and I'd probably be dragged off to a loony bin tomorrow. Just so everyone knows, I'm not thinking at all of pulling a Columbine. Hell, I even think the Second Amendment should be repealed.

I need sleeeep.

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Thursday, September 06, 2007

Another Reason I am a Fucking Basketcase

This morning I had a nightmare that I got a B in one of my courses.

I am not even kidding; that was the entire gist of the dream. I was mortified.

I am so embarrassed by my pathetic psyche.

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Sunday, September 02, 2007

Dream Baby

Last night I had a dream that I had a baby. The baby wasn't intentional; I kept forgetting to do something about it, and before I knew it, it was too late. Unfortunately, I was completely unprepared to be a mother, and kept doing terrible things like leaving the baby in the corner and forgetting about it. I even forgot to breastfeed, and only remembered when I looked down to see swollen breasts leaking milk everywhere in a most embarrassing fashion. I felt frantic and guilty.

I don't need any interpretation help on this one. The baby is this semester, which started last week.

More about the summer soon.

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Friday, June 29, 2007

Groundhog Days of Summer

As you can see, Hunter has taken to hanging around outside now that the weather is decent, so I took her to the vet to have her shots. Apparently, she is eight or nine years old! I had no idea. This explains why she seems to prefer climbing to jumping - her hip joints are middle aged. She sure has a lot of pep for an old lady, though, as demonstrated by her willingness to stalk a groundhog about twice her size (she didn't have the nerve to pounce, which is probably one reason she has lived so long).

Summer school ended today, and thank Christ. In the course of six weeks, my public speaking course took me from being quite comfortable giving a speech to being neurotically full of dread and anguish when giving a speech. From now on, whenever I hear someone give a formulaic speech as advocated by the course material, I will immediately discount everything they have to say. Also, PowerPoint is evil and should be obliterated, along with everyone who relies upon it.

Poor Lexx. I took him apart, desoldered the broken power jack and soldered on a new one. The jack itself seems to be working fine now - it is able to recharge a battery. Unfortunately, the system won't boot. In fact, nothing at all appears on the screen when I turn it on. Sigh. I'll troubleshoot some more this weekend. It's become something of a challenge.

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Thursday, May 17, 2007

W00t

Grades are in ...

4.0 again, bitchazzzzzz!



H00rj!

Yeah, that's right, I'm not ashamed to brag.

However, to counter my happy effusion, my bank account is $121 in the hole, in part because I went to NYC to see a musical theatre workshop on Tuesday. Goddamnit.

There are many exciting things happening, but I don't want to talk about them on here yet, for fear that I'll jinx myself. Suffice to say that I am in a state of heightened angst and excitement, which is serving in place of food to fuel a destruction binge. No, not drugs - I'm pulling down some plaster around my house. It's therapeutic.

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Friday, May 11, 2007

Obligatory YAY FINALS ARE OVER post

Finals are done! I am a free woman. I feel completely lost and unable to fathom what I should do with my freedom. I need structure! Lists of minute tasks! Obligations! Instead, all I have is a long, lazy summer stretched in front of me, interrupted by one pissweak general ed class and a broad idea of some of the things I want to achieve:

  1. Reorganize the Center for Music Technology. It is a mess, and I have been given access by the department and license to fix it up. That's going to be a fun task that Matt is helping with too. The only not-fun thing about it is that the lab is full of Macs. Ugh.

    On a side note, here is a chat conversation I had the other day while hanging out in the lab:
    me: Wow
    There are these big desk rackmount things in here
    At least, I thought they were just racks
    but then I looked closer
    and they are freaking SOUNDPROOF.
    Leviathant: Wha? Soundproof racks?
    me: They are these big boxes for the servers that lock everything up in this soundproof container
    Leviathant: Ooooh.
    me: We have to set those up in the summer
    Leviathant: ok
    me: clear glass front, covered on the inside in foam, compressing foam in the door
    Leviathant: That makes sense, because servers are loud. But they are also hot.
    me: motherfucker it has a fucking temperature sensor
    digital readout in the front
    fuck, here it is http://www.norenproducts.com/Acoustilock/xCAB.html
    Leviathant: Phwoah.
    me: I just downloaded the price list.
    it's $2350
    for a desk
    Leviathant: For a soundproof temperature regulating desk.
    WITH LABYRINTHS

  2. Fix the house. This stage of renovation involves tiling the basement, finishing the tiling in the bathroom, installing good shelves in the basement, and destroying the living and dining rooms and re-drywalling them. When I've done that, I can buy a piano!

  3. Make a garden. My big task for the summer is to build a retaining wall and erect a fence. When I've done that, I can buy a chicken! Theoretically.


In terrific post-finals news (actually, I was tipped off in the middle of finals, on hell day, which was almost more than I could bear emotionally), I am being awarded the Harry Wilkinson Music Theory Scholarship. It's a lot less than the alumni association scholarship, but it means more, since the people who gave it to me are my professors.

Hell day was Tuesday, when L'homme Arme was performed. I played the theremin like an oaf (though I forgive myself - can you believe I only built it five weeks ago? It seems like six months already). Ioana's click track failed. Because I was playing and not in the audience, I had no idea what the mix was like, and I'm told there were some balance issues. But it went surprisingly well. The faculty seemed to like it - they'd like it performed again at some new music concert next semester. I should add "practice the theremin A LOT" to my list of things to do over the summer.

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Saturday, May 05, 2007

HAPPY DANCE!@!!!

I am doing a happy dance! The Alumni Association gave me a lovely, lovely scholarship!

This is an especially happy dance because I am ineligible for financial aid. See, Matt and I like having an investment portfolio. It is not only lucrative, but informative, and it keeps us interested in the stock market and economic news. When we bought our house last year, we decided not to throw all our investment money into the house, but to keep it and get a home loan. The interest we earn on our investments is greater than the interest we're paying on our loan anyway.

Unfortunately, the existence of our investment portfolio means I can't get a lick of financial aid other than unsubsidized loans. The fact that my liabilities are worth far more than my assets is immaterial to Federal Student Aid. In fact, several FAFSA sites advised me to spend my investment portfolio in order to qualify for aid. This seems to me a really stupid thing to do.

So, my only alternative was scholarships. I couldn't apply last semester because I was a transfer student and therefore ineligible for most scholarships. I put my mind to kicking arse so I could maybe land one this semester.

And they gave me one!! They gave me four thousand dollars!!! Callooh! Callay!

In composition news, I am working on two things.

L'HOMME ARME

This semester, I took Music History I and Theory IV, so I was studying early music and twentieth century music at the same time. This was, in my view, helpful. The periods before and after the "tyranny" of the common practice have a sort of Wild West similarity to each other. It was particularly interesting to see that most of the techniques used to develop twelve-tone themes were firmly established in the fifteenth century (The main difference, as I see it, is that the composers of the fifteenth century actually gave a shit what their music sounded like to regular people).

I fell vastly in love with Ockeghem, a Bach-like genius who is virtually ignored today. I also found myself fascinated by a technique in which he excelled - the mensuration canon, which was developed before modern time signatures came about and died afterwards. When my history professor explained the concept of a mensuration canon in class, I was intrigued by the mind-blowing mathematics involved. My first instinct was to assume they didn't sound all that interesting. Then he played the Kyrie from the Missa Prolationum to us, and I had a hard time not bursting into tears - partly because it was so beautiful, and partly because Ockeghem must have had a brain of god-like proportions.

When faced with a god, the first instinct is to worship; the second is to emulate (to be "Closer to God AHAHAHAA"). "I will write a mensuration canon!" I decided. "It will be a lot easier now than it was then, anyway, since I can make horrible dissonances and everyone will just think it's modern!" I started to write a piece with the working title Ockeghem's Razor. It was supposed to be sort of jokey.

Then the Virginia Tech massacre happened, which made me think about a lot of things that are wrong with the world. I was probably listening to too much NPR again. At any rate, the music that I was writing sounded awfully depressed. I couldn't call it "Ockeghem's Razor" anymore.

Around the same time in Music History, we studied the cantus firmus mass. Back in the day, the day being the fourteenth and fifteenth century, everyone and his dog wrote a cantus firmus mass to the tune of "L'Homme Armé," a little French folk song.



The armed man should be feared.
Everywhere it has been proclaimed
That each man shall arm himself
With a coat of iron mail.
The armed man should be feared.


The tune is as relevant today as it was five hundred years ago, not only because of the gun violence in the USA, but because the original song was a call to arms for the crusades. Here we are in the 21st century, still having at the Muslims. I'm fairly angry and upset about that too.

So, I threw the "L'Homme Armé" in as a cantus firmus in the cello line, put it in retrograde in the clarinet line, wrote a mensuration canon between a theremin and a tenor (seriously), and threw a French horn in with some free counterpoint for good measure. Currently I'm spiking the whole thing with vaguely Reich-flavored news grabs and audio samples on a tape (figuratively speaking; actually Cubase).

It's either going to be fairly moving, or the sort of thing you get sick of after about thirty seconds, because I'm really ramming my anti-second-amendment anti-violence message down your throat.

BOULEZ IS DEAD

In 1951, Pierre Boulez wrote an angry essay titled "Schoenberg is Dead," in which he blasts Schoenberg for not going far enough in his pursuit of serialism. Yeah, I know, can you believe this guy? According to him, we should serialize not only pitches, but note duration, attack, dynamics, you name it. He invented insane compositional processes that were absolutely impossible for any listener to discern, and the results are only listenable if the performer makes them so by hard-selling them.

Boulez really pisses me off. But it would be pointless to protest his philosophy by writing a tonal piece, so instead I am taking the ironic stance that Boulez didn't go far enough. Serializing pitch, rhythm, and dynamics is all well and good, but did he serialize the actual sound? Nooooo. What a pussy.

With some help from Matt, I put together a program in C# that generates randomly a 90-second piece for theremin, cello, and General MIDI. All three parts have pitch, rhythm, and dynamics serialized. However, the third part also serializes the 128 voices of general MIDI, which - for those of you who have never played with a crappy Casio keyboard in your youth - includes not only MIDI approximations of the usual orchestral instruments, but "bird tweet," "seashore," "goblins," "telephone ring," and "helicopter."

It sounds like balls. That's the point. The best part is that we put a picture of Hannibal Lecter in the background of the program's GUI. He is swinging a telescoping baton and looks like he's conducting. It's a serial piece, get it? Also, the "Go" button says "Kill Boulez," and when the piece has been generated, a message is displayed: "BOULEZ IS DEAD."

The full title of the piece will be "Boulez is Dead: A serialist piece in C#." Ahahaha, I kill me.


One more quick composition story before I get back to finishing writing these two pieces: the other day while I was driving, an interview on NPR reminded me of the short story "The Nose" by Gogol. I read this story years ago and loved it. Suddenly, I thought to myself, "By god, that would make a terrific modern one-act opera!" I turned off the radio and began composing themes for the opera out loud. I had pictures in my head of a guy in a nose costume singing my tunes. When I got home, I raced to Google to seek out the story and read it again.

Can you fucking believe it? Shostakovich already did it. In 1930, he wrote an opera based on "The Nose." I swear, I didn't know. I thought of it entirely independently. That fucking bastard Shostakovich.

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Sunday, April 15, 2007

How Embarrassment, Or How Matt Met the Swopes

I'm having a stupid, stupid week.

Wait, it's not the week that's stupid, it's me. Lately I can't seem to do anything without screwing it up.

Take last night, for instance. The new music school building was given a gala opening. I thought I got Matt a ticket to attend. What I had actually procured was a ticket for today's repeat performance for the masses. Last night's performance was exclusively for people who had donated at least $10,000 towards the building development fund.

The ticket booth was kind enough to let him in anyway. They gave him a free seat in the second row.

The result of my gaffe was that Matt was the only person not wearing a tuxedo and probably the only person worth less than a million dollars attending a concert graced by the likes of Dick Hyman and Frederica von Stade.

The result of the ticket booth's kindness was that Matt was given a seat amongst the Swope family. I guess the seat was for a Swope who couldn't make it.

Just to clarify, for those who don't go to West Chester University: both the old and new music buildings are called the Swope School of Music.

I'm lucky Matt's such a charming guy. He chatted gaily with the guy in the seat next to him: Charles Swope, son of Charles Swope, and grandson of Charles Swope. All three are mentioned so often on West Chester businesses, buildings, scholarships, and awards, you feel like you know them, although you have no idea who they are. Hell, I didn't even know that there were three of them, all ridiculously successful.

Of course, Matt now knows who they are. And they know how Matt and I met, and that I am studying composition, and have bright orange hair. And I'm really glad that Matt had a smashing time literally rubbing elbows with the Swope family, but Jesus, can I get anything right this week?

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Thursday, March 01, 2007

I get a D in life. Vitamin D.

Man, I have felt wretched the last few days. Spring, I'm ready. This is your cue. Please to be making with the sun 'n' happy shit now.

In the interest of staying positive, here are some neat things that have happened to me recently.

I've decided to rehearse So You Want to Write a Fugue for the Prairie Home Companion talent competition. Garrison Keillor is sure to eat it up! I really don't see how this plan can fail, unless I lose motivation in the next three weeks, which might happen if there isn't some decent sunshine soon.

Matt and I decided to buy a Paia theremin. We'd been talking about it for years. I will put my soldering talent to good use and afterward create spooky noises in mid-air.

I recently visited the Composing Thoughts blog at WITF, and was consumed by an urgent need to hear all the interviews. But how? Their airdates had passed. And transcripts aren't available. Inspiration struck. I volunteered to transcribe them all for the WITF website. It will take up a good bit of time, but when I'm done I will know the interviewees pretty intimately, which is awesome, since they include Corigliano and Elfman and Crumb.

I found a Kung Fu school nearby (not Karate or Tae Kwon Do, but actual Kung Fu) and I'm thinking about maybe taking that up again in the summer, if budget allows.

I was invited to participate in the honors society at WCU, which is unlike many other honors societies in that it's actually a college. To graduate with an "Honors Supplemental Certificate," I'd have to take twelve extra credits of honors classes, which are mostly about leadership and helping the community, with some obviously politsci courses thrown in for good measure. I'm thinking about it. There's an honors trip to South Africa in Spring 2008 to volunteer in an AIDS orphange, which sounds incredible. The only downside would be the politsci-type courses, which are probably full of politsci students.

Oh, also, for the application, I have to write an essay about which three famous people, living or dead, I would invite to a dinner party. Sort of makes me feel like I'm a contestant in the Miss America pageant. There's no way I'm choosing Jesus or Gandhi, but I was thinking about John Simpson (it's a toss-up between him and Helen Thomas), Oscar Wilde, and Ayaan Hirsi Ali (see below).

  • Jack Chick! Click on the testimony link for a hilarious story about the real Bad Bob who set his pants on fire in jail! So much hilarity!

  • Ayaan Hirsi Ali - my hero? I should read her book. I'm hoping she only joined the Enterprise Institute to subvert it.

  • American Shaolin. I heard Matthew Polly on the radio the other night, and should probably read his book this summer too.

  • Complaints Choirs of the World

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Friday, January 19, 2007

How Embarrassment

One of the many slightly annoying things about living in the USA is that I can't use the phrase "How embarrassment!" because nobody has any clue where it comes from.

This morning contained a textbook "How embarrassment!" moment. I was late to my music history class because some douches were clearing brush on route 322, leaving only one lane for traffic to pass through. They were douches because traffic towards West Chester was backed up for about five miles, whereas traffic leaving West Chester wasn't backed up at all. I have no idea why they didn't take this into account when directing traffic, except that they are douches.

I screeched into the parking lot ten minutes late, sprinted up the stairs, and tried in vain to creep into the classroom. Creeping is difficult when you have bright pink hair; I so rarely creep that I had forgotten this when I dyed it. I sat down. I looked at the professor. All seemed well.

I looked around. Chris was sitting across the aisle. What was he doing here? Had he transferred into my class? Why was he looking at me as though he might laugh?

Oh, god. Wrong class. Music history is at 11am, not 10am.

So, having arrived ten minutes late and sat down for twenty seconds, I had to get up and try unsuccessfully to creep out of the room.

The worst part is that I have to go back at 11am, and the professor will, of course, know that it was me, and that I am an idiot.

These little things keep me awake at night sometimes thinking about what a loser I am. Another is the fact I remember and use the phrase "How embarrassment."

In good news, the music library has some bitching wireless internet, so I can rip CDs and have iTunes find all the track names for me. And I can blog.

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Thursday, January 18, 2007

Back to school

I am three days into my second semester at West Chester, and I already have too much homework and feel like a walking zombie.

I'm loving my schedule, though. Firstly, I'm taking nothing but music classes. 19 credits of music theory, music aurals, music history, composition, counterpoint, private lessons and ensembles. Provided it doesn't drive me completely nuts, this ought to work well, since last semester I complained every time I needed to switch brain-gears from physics or women's studies to music. I'm also resolving not to do too much in the way of home renovation until break. I should rest on my laurels for a while after building a kitchen and finishing a bathroom (except for the tiling in the shower unit ... OK, maybe I'll do that this weekend).

Secondly, all my classes are in the brand new Swope Building, which is all kinds of awesome in comparison with the facilities at old Swope. The expanded music library even houses all the 780s that used to be in the main library. Since there's ample parking, and everything I need is in one place, I don't have to walk anywhere all winter. Bliss! (I'm resolving to avoid the elevators at all costs, however, for fear of becoming a hambeast from complete lack of physical activity.)

Thirdly, I passed my piano proficiency requirement for my degree, which freed me up to take up the bassoon. I have a shitty rented bassoon on my couch, which sounds remarkably like a sick goose when I blow into it. Apparently I'm required to join the concert band, which present problems since I currently can only play four or five notes with any consistency. Why the bassoon? I have no clue. It was one of those occasional sudden urges I have that more often than not turn out to be a good idea. If nothing else, it will help with any composition I might do for double reeds.

I composed that thing on the right there last semester and recorded it a couple of weeks ago. You can also find it on YouTube and MySpace.

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Saturday, December 23, 2006

Merry Christma-- I mean yeah! Go me!

I got so caught up with working on the house and hanging out in Philly for three days that I forgot to check my grades.

4.0 BITCHES!!! YEEEAAAHHHHH!!!

This only means that I will be sorely disappointed when I eventually get a B in something, but at least I have a good start. Also, the hair dye job evidently worked.

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Tuesday, December 12, 2006

ARRRRRRGH FINALS ARRRRRRGH

IT IS FINALS WEEK
I THOUGHT I WOULDN'T BE TOO STRESSED BUT I AM
ARRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGHHHHHHHHH MOTHERFUCKER OH GOD JURIES OH GOD
I DYED MY HAIR WHITE WELL IT'S NOT QUITE WHITE MORE LIKE VERY PALE YELLOW WITH WHITE BITS AND ORANGE STREAKS AND THE BANGS ARE STILL BLACK
I AM HOPEFUL THAT IT WILL DISTRACT THE JURY SO THEY DON'T NOTICE MY PLAYING
SORRY ABOUT THE ALL CAPS BUT IT IS THE BEST REPRESENTATION OF MY CURRENT STATE OF MIND
I HAD SOMETHING ELSE TO SAY BUT I FORGET WHAT IT IS
PROBABLY FOR THE BEST

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