Wow, Dr. Lias did the one thing I was fearing he wouldn't do ... he put a lot of functional harmony questions on the theory final. Fuck. Well, I did my best to go above and beyond on certain questions ... maybe he'll be generous and give me some extra credit to cover up any other mistakes I may have made on those sections. Grarghfuck. (he asked for four Impressionistic techniques ... I gave him six. He asked for a D-octatonic scale and I gave him both kinds. Stuff like that)

Nyarghnf.

Luckily, I noticed a HUGE problem with my serial matrix before I turned in my test. God, that was like a heart attack when I noticed I had three G-sharps in a row (there's only supposed to be one per row).

Anyway. I think it is now time for a shower, a delicious sangwich, and a trip to the music office so I can give my recital recording to Dr. Gavin. I can't wait for it to be 12:30 tomorrow.

Cashew Smash!

I'm really worried about my Theory final tomorrow. I felt like it would be the easiest one, but now I'm all concernicus because it is quite imperative that I do a great job on this final. I'm mostly worried about how much traditional harmony he's going to throw our way. I kind of like this class because you could come in with no prior basis of functional harmony and still pass a test. And since we haven't reviewed tonal harmony in, oh ... three months? I'm really worried that the cumulative aspect will kill me deader than a very dead thing.

Afterwards is my organ jury. I might start freaking out tomorrow after the Theory final, but right now I am consumed by this huge wave of Not Giving a Flying Shit.

And another thing: Galactic (that's the band's name) is both good and bad study music. It's good because it's very smooth and tonal and there is very little that is offensive to the ears. Still, it's distracting because it is sexy as all hell. Yay for jazzy funk fusion.

And the new Black Rebel Motorcycle Club album kicks ass. Just saying.

Oh, SNAP. Richard Cheese did a swanky version of the Spiderman theme song.

Check it out here.

I love Richard Cheese. If I met him in person, I'd buy him a burrito.

This lifestyle I'm currently involved in has to stop. It seems to involve:

Studying until 3 am
Sleeping for four hours
Shotgunning an energy drink so that I don't fall into a coma
Subsisting off of one meal a day

I'm not sure I can handle it anymore. The old grey mare, she ain't what she used to be.

I can't fucking wait until finals are over.

I just got out of an organ lesson. I didn't practice as much as I should have, and now in order to kick me into overdrive he says that I need to play an organ jury. Yay, five finals instead of four.

Music History isn't kicking my ass, but I am slightly bruised from it. I'd be fine in Aural Skills if it weren't for fucking MacGamut. Theory should be fine, but I'm worried about how harshly he's going to grade my composition assignment. I know I got a decent grade on my piano recital, but I had to put a lot of stuff by the wayside to do that. Pedagogy is just annoying.

It's the right time for summer. But at any rate, if I just do this organ jury and prove to Unsworth that I'm not a total fuck-up, I should have at least a B in that class. The Music History exam IS open book, but I hear it's the hardest test he ever gives. I'll have to study that this weekend. I can't really study for Aural Skills, but maybe I can practice some stuff on MacGamut. I think Theory should be the easiest exam ... that's the first time I've ever said that ... and as long as I stick to the review on Pedagogy, I should be fine.

Deep breaths.

I will NOT sit inside and mope. That won't make me feel better.

Tonight, though, I will finish my listening journal, do two MacGamut assignments, and finish putting away all my clothes so that I can do laundry tomorrow.

Tonight is going well.

I feel like a bit of a fatty, but that's just because my monthlies are nearly upon me. I played in Chris Reeves' recital, which went well though his trombone player didn't show up (that was a real shame. I know that he was proudest of that piece). Then, I saw the jazz band and that was fab. Plus, they had punch and pie afterwards! It's the little things in life, really.

So now I'm drinking water and celebrating the fact that I don't have class until 3 tomorrow. 3 pm! I love tomorrow.

I tried to pick new music with Dr. Parr and I have a feeling he wants me to bite off more than I can chew. He didn't really like any of my suggestions. That's never happened before. Hmm.

Music for you cool cats out there:

The Bridge

This is a band based out of an old hometown of mine, Baltimore ... I've got one word, three letters for this band.

Yes. Yes.

Y-E-S.

If you like the jam band style, a cool and funky sound, brass instruments, and the general sound of AWESOME, check these guys out. Stat.

So here's the deal.

The recital went pretty well. A few parts were creative (such as the last two measures of my Bach fugue) but overall it was a passable performance. So thank god THAT'S over.

My self-esteem has shaky foundations. If I'm arrogant enough to think that I only have worth if I'm better than other people, then clearly I'm going to spend my life in a misanthropic, unhappy state. I won't ever be motivated to do shit. Why? Well, it's all gotta be perfect. I can't go with the moment because I have to second guess and analyze the moment until it's gone. Fuck that.

And I leave you with this quote:
"Frustrated rock musician with a messianic complex, armed to the teeth, and trying to fuck everything that moves. I don't know how to tell you this ... sounds like every one of my friends in Austin!" - Bill Hicks

Lesson yesterday, prehearing today.

I'm pretty proud of yesterday because my lesson went great. I did a lot of really good stuff and Dr. Parr said my program was in good shape. So that's great.

Today my prehearing was okay. Only okay. There are a lot of excuses; I had frustrating insomnia last night, my court date this morning kept me from warming up, but none of those excuses are really good. I only kind of rocked and I didn't bring the thunder and I kept losing my concentration and making stupid fucking mistakes.

I know I have the potential for greatness. I just can't seem to bring it out in public. And what good is potential if you can't even make it a decent product after seven years of training?

So I'm kind of bummed right now. I'll be fine. The only consolation I have is that it could have gone a lot worse. I'll be silly and charming later.

Have you ever had the kind of insomnia that's just frustrating? Like, you start feeling angry at yourself because you can't go to sleep? Meh.

Class and practice this morning, then lesson and teaching and more practice this afternoon. Tomorrow's the real kicker, though:

9: Court Date
11: Prehearing
12: Cello studio
1: Convocation
3: Pedagogy
4:30: Organ lesson

Afterwards I'll be practicing MORE and feeding my malnourished body. However, as a brain vacation I figured I'd see a seven o'clock show of Blades of Glory. I think what my mind needs is some good old fashioned silly Will Farrell fun.

Damn.

I was so stressed out before Spring Break. I was really in need of a vacation that consisted of rock shows and drinking. And I got it, and it was awesome, and I got to be with amazing people, to boot.

I figured I'd get back here and be all energized and refreshed and ready to take on my recital and the music department and everything in general.

Instead, all I've done is have a string of bad days and a constant, nagging sensation of "Damn, I really don't like it here." Nacogdoches was fun when there was novelty, but the lack of civilization and things to do and people to relate to are making it seem very stagnant and uninspired. Ever since SXSW and the definitive "I'm moving to Austin after graduation" decision, I'm really itching to be there. There's more music opportunities, a job transfer waiting for me, and family of course (family that I actually LIKE. Who knew?).

I used to love accompaniment, but now it's eating my soul.

Dr. Parr is an amazing teacher, but I'm just moving in a different direction than what he's trying to teach me.

At least there's Easter weekend to get me in a more positive mindset. I'm just hoping that after this prehearing and court date and all that nonsense is over, I'll have a reprieve of a couple of days or so to get my positivity and motivation back.

I've already played my April Fools jokes on the necessary people (boyfriend, best friend, and mother) so fear not, there will be none here today.

Yesterday was awesome because I went to Flashbacks with Stevo, Will, Holli and her boyfriend (regrettably, his name is eluding me right now). Normally I try not to go there too often because the smell of Flashbacks (cheap booze and ten thousand stale cigarettes) stays with you for days. Plus, they won't serve me because it's still four months until I am of the legal drinking age.

HOWEVER. Holli and I joined forces against the male foe and we totally ran the table all night. That girl plays some mad pool, and with our forces combined I wouldn't be surprised if we could hustle a few people out of some money.

Well, all my music is memorized. That's one triumph ... now to make it sound good.

Grargh. Why is it so hard to find lead sheets online that make any fucking sense? Wiser Time just sounds wrong with an A-C-G progression. Fucking. An A major chord doesn't even really make sense in the key of C. And A minor just sounds wrong.

Consarnit.

Met up with Herb yesterday to discuss that which is rocking. He gave me a lot of cool stuff to think about, and I did some cool stuff with the fake book today. This may be the start of a weekly thing ... I was going to bring some more Joe Cocker stuff to the practice room next Thursday.

Although it looks like I'll have to start singing to put some context to the chords I'm playing. Drat. Well, at least Aural Skills has taught me to sing on key.

All of the practice rooms are full, so I thought I'd post real quick about my lesson today.

I was up at 7:30 on a Friday, which hasn't happened for several semesters. I played my entire Beethoven, which was exhausting ... the third movement has sections where I forget to breathe. That's no good ... at any rate, according to Dr. Parr I need to put more dynamics in pretty much all of my pieces. That's doable, I guess ... we'll see what he thinks of the newly-revived Brahms next week.

Prehearing is officially scheduled ... next Wednesday at 10 am. Good LORD. I have until then to memorize two pages and contend with the unbearable lightness of Debussy. Every time I play it, it sounds so LOUD.

23 days and counting until my recital. Please please PLEASE let it sound halfway decent.

I spent a good part of the evening watching movie trailers. In summation:

Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End looks like some hot-ass shit.

28 Weeks Later looks a bit more exciting than 28 Days Later. Even so, I'll probably wait until it comes out on DVD before I partake.

I need to see a Transformers movie teaser where you see more hot robot action. I'm not sure what to think. I'm going to see it anyhow, though.

And I am so pumped about Grindhouse and Rose McGowan and her machine-gun leg that I can barely fucking think straight. Murph anticipated this and made sure he's not closing that weekend so that we can go and see it and kick some ass at the Alamo when it opens.

And I'm spent.

And I didn't jam any rock music at all today. But I got a lot of classical shite done, so at least I'm being productive.

Tonight promises to be RIVETING.

I'm going to clean my apartment.

And after that I shall take a shower.

And if the excitement doesn't exhaust me completely ... I'm going to practice some more.

I got my phone back! My partner-in-crime overnighted it back to me, along with the iPod cozy I left in his car and a very thoughtful note that I'm adding to the numerous letters he's sent me.

It's a relief to get my phone back and not be so cut off from the world. But I think my favorite part of the package was the note. Heh.

"You come to love not by finding the perfect person, but by seeing an imperfect person perfectly."

Yay for good conversation and music and general fun shenanigans yesterday. I had a wonderful Spring Break, and that's good because yesterday was generally shitty. But the point is, my break was awesome ... there was road tripping and rock shows and cats and family and drinking and time spent with the boyfriend. I really can't sum it up any better than that.

I took a Theory test this morning that I totally forgot about. Even so, I think I kicked that test's ass.

I got my teaching video back from pedagogy, and despite me being sick and nauseous and achy that day ... I think it may be my best example of teaching yet. Not so much because I'm cheerful and nice, but because I'm well-informed and keep good command of the class, which has always been my style, really.

I just love the random people you can meet at IHOP.

Today I was sitting in a booth, reading a book and getting utterly lost in it. Its one of the few things I can still lose myself in completely ... with a new book and a cup of coffee in my hands, I can forget what time it is, what day it is, who I'm with. When I was a kid a lot of things had this effect on me, but reading is a rare survivor on that list.

ANYWAY. This trucker with a long flowing mane and beard of iron-gray hair comes up to me and says "Can I ask you a question?"

I'm a little guarded, but I say "Sure, no problem. What's up?" I figure the restaurant's crowded, I've got mace and my knife ... if this guy turns out ultra-shady, it won't get too messy.

"Can I just sit and talk to you for a while? I've been on the road for ... I dunno, five days, and I haven't gotten to talk to anyone. The waitresses are busy, and anyway the girls around here have their mouths shut tighter than a nun's twat. I'm going a little crazy without some conversation. If you want I'll even buy your coffee for you."

Well, what with that charming comment about a nun's nether regions and the promise of free unlimited coffee, I couldn't resist. I shifted booths, told him that my name was Janet, and off we went. We ran the gamut of subjects, but I think he had the most interesting story: he had three ex-wives, and the most chaotic of them had shot at him seven times with a .22 caliber pistol. BEFORE SHE WAS MARRIED TO HIM.

As my brother likes to say, "That's some outlaw shit."