They took your life apart, and called your failures art

God, I love Elliott Smith. I "discovered" him when I was staying at Johanna's apartment for spring break. I'd been pretty awfully depressed over someone, and that week was just amazingly restorative. I read Slaughterhouse Five, saw the Indigo Girls, went to see Eternal Sunshine in theaters, and discovered Elliott Smith. No wonder. It's funny how something can be so different, but not necessarily bad.

It's also funny how I can barely remember what went on today. Like, if I didn't know that it was Wednesdays, and that on Wednesdays, I go to Geology and Music History and practice and Psych, and work, and Amnesty... I'd be totally lost. I guess we're creatures of habit so that we can go through the motions with some things, and focus on others.

Stress in my life comes in fits and bursts. Tomorrow it's off to the posty first thing, then work until 1 (book finishing, line memorizing), then practicing and other things until theater at 3:30. Amnesty goings on until 9. Flashcard making for Geology. Yick. I'd like that class so much better if I could just sit there and laugh at geologists.

a break from schistose rocks... WHAT?

Bizarre day, today. One odd thing about me is that I tend to get righteously angry about issues or situations, but I almost never get mad at individual people... It sounds odd, but I seriously think the last time I was royally pissed off at someone was after arguing with Table about Hiroshima, and he said that there was no such thing as an innocent civilian... I think that was sometime in mid-August... over a month ago, at any rate. But I actually managed to be significantly angry and upset at two different people today, in completely different situations. One was probably building for a while, and the other was triggered by something someone told me about him that basically made me (perhaps irrationally) want to break his nose. I managed to not tell off either one, realizing that in neither instance would it do any good... I think where the first is concerned, I just need distance. And the second... probably to realize that other people's stupid actions are beyond my control, and that I am capable of doing ridiculously awful things, too.

Lab quiz tomorrow, yikes. What is that? Since when do people like me have lab quizzes?

A purple little little lady

I am never allowed to buy CDs. Ever. Again. I live in diametric opposites. After spending only $25 on food during my Shopping Trip, I took myself to Rainbow, and bought Sigur Ros, and Gogol Bordello... One highly ambient in a made-up language, the other gypsy-punk in English and (I think) Ukranian. I need to find someone quickly to introduce to this band who will go see them next Saturday in Philly. Because supposedly, their shows are amazing. And now it is time to figure out how to cook red beans in an effective manner.

Okay, enough of the fucking beautiful weather

So someone had this absolutely brilliant idea to take plastic pieces of ribbon and have people write "messages" to people in New Orleans, and to attatch them to string and pieces of plywood, and stick it in the grass on the mall. The effect: unbelievably tacky. I'm as concerned about New Orleans as the average person- possibly more. I'm completely outraged at Bush's racist and classist response. I think it's a tragedy to lose the city (though it was inevitable, anyway), and I'm not looking forward to Rita hitting Houston (where I'm from). I even donated and helped raise money for the red cross. But if there's one thing I hate, it's people self-righteously wearing their grief on their sleeve. If you really give enough of a shit, do something beautiful. Write a letter. Or some people are making a quilt of squared of fabric where people draw things or write things. That's a really nice idea. But littering the university with green strips of plastic is not quite it. I can't wait until it rains, and people see what a gross idea it was.

Please hate mail me, people. I love it.

I've one foot in the grave, already

When did I become so old? I'm taking a tea-making break from working on my programme notes for Music History to write a bit... I'm not quite certain when staying up past midnight doing homework became such a crisis. I am 2/3 of the way through writing these fuckers, it's not even 2am, and yet I feel awful. I got this amazing chocolate at the co-op on Sunday... it's made by a company called "Dagoba," and it's dark chocolate with chilis in it. Mmmm... I guess I sort of have a right to be irate about staying up this late, as I have an 8am lab tomorrow. And I don't have any napping time at any point during the week. How did that happen? Fuck everything. I'm going to bed early tomorrow. Really early. So early you won't even know it's me.

So go to sleep, and make the change.

I slept almost until noon today, and only got up then because of my alarm clock. I hate the heisenberg uncertainty principle, but it's completely accurate. I also deplore my inability to both own and partake of my spongey dessert substance. But my new pen that I got from the antique shoppe when I bought my bookcase has aided me most valiantly in my research on pieces for programme notes. I can't find my ipod, which means that it has either been forever lost, or I have placed it in some odd place like my music locker... if it has been forever lost, I don't know if I'll get another one, because ipods kind of get this evil hold upon you... I'll be happy if I find it, though. I really like Elliott Smith, and Kate Goodwin, for different reasons sort of, but also for the same ones. But Elliott is dead, and Kate is alive. And I never knew Elliott, but I know Kate.

It has been Talk-Like-A-Pirate day for 9 minutes, now. Be advised.

I guess we know where the "Judging" comes from...

Pretty bizarre day... I won't go into my 8:30am pelvic exam... Lets just say I knew then and there that today would not be ordinary. I made it to work only 15 minutes late, which I thought was pretty great, and I wrote for about two hours, trying to figure out why I was such an angry teenager. I mean, I could just opt for the "well, don't all teens irrationally hate their families?" but of course that's not enough for me. I think I made progress on the problem, but I'm not sure that I'm happier for having thought about it.

After work, I practiced for about an hour and a half, with much success. My voice lesson tomorrow will be spectacular. (Spectacular makes me think of American Beauty, which I would like to watch with a friend.)

I took the old Myers-Briggs test tonight. I think I've done this before or attempted to, and just got irritated with the lack of middle ground, and the fact that they ask the same questions over and over again, worded differently. The verdict: ENTJ (Extroverted, Intuitive, Thinking, Judging). I guess it's a good way to categorize people... I tend to do that in a less quantitative manner, I suppose. "Oh, him. He's a friendly conservative. And that one's a meathead. And he's one of those clever types that secretly plays RPGs. I'll file her in the nice but dull category. The other girl is one of those whiny music major types. And that guy over there is so Belle and Sebastian."

Hey, at least I don't use letters.

Casualties of War

When I clicked the title box, several options came down, through which I scrolled, until I found this one. I think I like it, and it brings vague thoughts, though of what, I'm not certain. That's been a problem with me, lately. I've had vivid dreams, or muted reality (with a few notable exceptions), and I'm having trouble differentiating. Last night I was in church ruins with a man whose wife had died. He was going to get into his beat up car and drive somewhere, waiting for a sign from her while he listened to some tape on his radio. I got into the car with him, and an owl landed on the glass of his sunroof. I said that was probably the sign he's looking for, and he dismissed the owl.

Last night when I tried to practice, it was so frustrating, and I had one of those moments where I really worried that I am getting in over my head. So after about 20 minutes of self-loathing, I decided to take the night off from practicing and do other homework, which ended up being a fairly good decision, considering the amount I accomplished. Today, though... such a different story. I'm finally becoming cordial with Ach, ich fuehls (usually two pages of me wanting to die), and I think that Plum Pudding worked extremely well. And I'm ridding myself of my tendancy to over-rubato in Casta Diva.

Tonight, the plan is to make mineral flash cards for Geology, send out e-mails, and learn lines for Theater. I'm so glad to be alone right now.

The mystery of the falling corn husks

Bits and pieces. Writing a story about a girl who's not all there, but perhaps wiser than anyone else... she lives next door to a girl who sells Snuff-porn. She meets a guy of dubious talent who is making a sculpture out of a bicycle wheel. I think. I don't know what happens. Monday is a busy day, and I'm not really left with much at the end. There are four boxes in my living room, which are mostly books, I think. That is exciting, but it means I will need to buy a bookcase. Mmm... bookcase... It will be wonderful to see lots of books in my apartment, again. Perhaps a few other things I felt like I would rather have in DE with me than thrown out. Creature comforts, like the two sci-fi novels I wrote in junior high/early high school... both really awful, of course. And who knows what else? Suddenly it feels like christmas.

I thought you were a lifesized paper doll

Asking anyone who reads this: Do you think that mother Theresa was a virgin? (credit to Sue for asking me.)

Atheist Quotations

My apartment smells amazing. I made organic pasta, topped with a sautee of zuchini, tomatoes, calamata olives, garlic, rosemary, basil, oregano, and white wine. I took a walk after dinner, and when I got back to my apartment, I could smell my cooking from my doorstep. Good sign.

Today I was sitting in GSR (general student recital), thinking about what would happen if suddenly Loudis Recital Hall blasted off from the Earth, and we were all stuck together. I think Prodan would be one of the first ones to get cannibalized. Personally, I would prefer not to be stuck in an isolated environments with only music majors. It makes me want to read The Stone Raft, by Jose Saramago, in which the Iberian peninsula randomly breaks off of the rest of Europe.

Other notes of the day: My psych professor continues to be a tool, commenting once more today on his Hot Tamale status again... Sometime I'm going to write an entry that is just his awful quotes. I had such a fantastic nap this evening that I woke up thinking it was morning. Sam, my favourite atheist went on a spectacular atheist rant today. I had a voice lesson today that left me with a stupid grin on my face for at least a couple of hours, because I asked Dr. Dement to show me how to fix this problem I've been having with an aria, and she just... did. Just like that. Amazing woman. Amnesty International Party tonight = exciting. I am going to try to rediscover my lost literary potential and look around for story ideas.

"Everyone's too stupid!"

Ahahaha... Ranting time = my favourite time. I had a voice lesson once, where my teacher told me that when you're singing, you have to love it, even if you're supposed to be angry... you have to enjoy being angry. I don't know that I enjoy it... I mean, I'd like it a lot better if people weren't dumbshits... But of all those freedoms guaranteed by the first ammendmant, the one I enjoy the most is the freedom to rant about said dumbshits.

First: The University of Delaware music department does not have the highest admissions standards. Particularly with vocalists, but generally, this is applicable with any instrument. Therefore, 97 freshmen were admitted this year. So I'm a crotchety upperclassman who likes to practice at 2pm on Thursdays, because that's when I have a break between classes, and for some reason, my voice just tends to work better these days at 2pm than at 11pm. So. I go to the music building to practice (after I call the city of Newark to find out why my water is brown... apparantly they're flushing something out of the pipes, which they do periodically... now tell me: what other motherfucking city in the country does this? Is this another one of those East Coast things I never knew about?), only to find that the practice rooms are all taken up. Of course, only about 2/3 of the people in them are practicing. Most of them are just "holding" them with their books/instruments, or standing in the doorways chatting with their friends for 15 minutes. So eventually, I just used one of the piano practice rooms upstairs, which of course inconvenienced the piano majors... and I would have felt bad about it, except that some of them had done the same thing with their rooms, as people did downstairs. It's fucking inconsiderate, people. We have more students than ever this year, and there are people who come to the music building to practice, not just because they have nothing better to do. If you want to practice for 10 hours a day, then that's awesome, and you should. But don't "practice" for half an hour, leave all your shit in there for an hour, and then come back and expect me not to have written an angry letter and/or stolen your money. (Just kidding about the money part).

2nd thing: News article says Bush has declared Sept. 16th as a day of prayer for the victims of Katrina. This is so fucking typical of the administratino. We're not going to send them help when they really need it, when they're drowning. We're going to make jokes about sitting on Trent Lott's (edit) front porch while thousands of our own citizens are dying. But hey. We'll pray for them. Or actually, we'll tell the entire country to pray for them, while we pray that the entire country forgets how we insensitively ignored them while they were dying and being raped and pillaged by looters for a week. But I'd imagine they'll just raise the terror level again in a couple of days, and life will all go back to normal. For the rest of the country, anyway.

PS: the title is from the movie Ghost World, which is excellent.

Apparantly I have a blog now

Not that I've never had a blog before, of course. I'm http://www.xanga.com/invisible_vilia, or for a high-school version of me, visit http://www.opendiary.com, and search for Extreme~Living. I just checked, and it's still around. In fact, that particular one oh-so-wittily invites you to "get swept away in my tributary to the great stream." *unceremoniously vomits on self* Still, it's probably worth a laugh on some level. If you like to rubberneck at car accidents, that is.

So right now I'm making Orange Oatmeal Raisin cookies for my Amnesty International meeting tomorrow. My oven likes to randomly increase its temperature to unknown hights, when you set it above 300, though. In the words of Ashley, "550???!!! Are we going to the moon???" Ah. The first batch is out of the oven. It seems that you're supposed to make patty-cakes of oatmeal raisin cookies, and not drops, like with chocolate chip cookies. Lesson learned. And now... back to work.