Bwahahaha

Two pages of absolute gibberish in the can. This should not feel so slimey. But I'm still standing, several hours of contemplation and deep conversation later. Note to self: 2 am is no good for nostalgia, emotional breakthroughs, or existentialism. I miss morning being a novelty. I've seen the wrong side of 3 am far too often for my liking this month. But I know that far too soon I'll miss this, will crave this intensity and craziness.

Recap of the Dead List:

Dead:
Logic Three Pager
Seven Pages of IA

Dying:
Logic Presentation
3-5 more pages of IA
Working knowledge of Russian

'Eh. Who the hell cares:
Aural Skills
Spanish
Workbook and Corrections
Practicing (HHAHAHAHA)

And I'm out. Smokey-fish, signing off.

Uh...

Logic Two Pager and Presentation in T- 24 hours. I can't tell if I'm feverish or just tired. I've slept too much lately to be tired.

This does not bode well.

And There It Was...All Daybright and Shiny Stars

I had a vision of my future tonight, and to tell y'all the truth, it was kinda nice. I went straight from Orchestra, which ran over till 9:30ish, to rehearsing Scott's (Insert Last Name Here. No really. Its something with a B) percussion piece for the composition recital tonight. Super stressed, super bitchy, but somehow the process of working through a new piece from nothing, with a whole crowd of kids as super hyped as you are to be exactly where you are, doing exactly what your doing at that moment in time. It had that same old sparkly charm, bad mood totally gone, and I'm flying sky high. I wish I could explain it better, the power music has over me, the indomitable capacity to shut out the world. I remember days in middle school and high school where I'd be physically ill, and within in minutes of the warm up chords of Jazz Band or Wind Ensemble or whatever, all of that would be out the window. I know the physiology of it, how music literally slows down your bodily functions, heartrate, blood pressure and all. But in the end, its the process of making something out of nothing, conquering a small part of existence, being inescapably present, its all of that which I find so...calming.

I'm excited for the future to come. For the days when I can be that spontaneously devoted, can wander the lengths of my passions, without silly research papers and required courses getting in the way. More than that, I'm...maybe curious? aroused? By the specter of it all.

Enough. Red Negras, I shall conquer. Ya here me? I will take you down, and I shall win.

Killing Time and Other Things

Wasting another ten minutes a chez akin, because I promised I'd wake up Killmer, and didn't really wanna go and practice...Lord, I haven't been since early last week. Whats the world coming to!!! Oh well, four hour of rehearsals tonight should just drag me back to earth. OR just remind me why the can't find the energy to care about last minute composition recitals. I'm so not a good supportive member of this cult. I mean shit, I haven't even been to a single day of the Nine Days of Ryan. *Sigh*. My queendom to give a damn.

Among the Dead :-D 'Cause I Kick Ass
Spanish Jew Presentation
Study Abroad Apps
Visa Apps
Percussion Recital
Any Notions of not being HEINOUSLY addicted to coffee

Among the Semi-Dead/Crusty Staggering and Wounded
Half my IA paper
Half my knowledge of Russian for the final

Healthy As Fuck 'Cause I'm Lazy and Like Sleeping
Second Half of my IA Paper
Percussion Work Ethic
Logic Presentation
Logic Paper

C'est la vie. C'est la friggin vie.

Besides, not everyone knows the names and life stories of the Skyline night shift in the library, right? I'm distinctive. Yeaaaaaaaaaaah.

I don't want to go home.

Fight or Flight

Week number three of this mad rush to the end. I now understand why everyone gets shit drunk over Reading Days, right before finals. Because after the end of the classes, there's really nothing remotely productive left to do. You're left so absolutely blinded by the stress and exhaustion, that burning off some tension is the best option. I'm spent and there's one more week of writing papers until all hours. I'm trying hard to remain positive, optimistic, or at the very least visibly sane, after I was told I have to change the topic of one of my research papers. Which was suggested to me originally by the very professor that now doesn't...appreciate it, shall we say. Like I've said before, I think one of the biggest things that I'll take away from this year is the ability to hold my tongue. OK, well, better control anyway. Being my hyper-sarcastic smart ass self really doesn't go very far. As frustrated as I am, mouthing off would not help anything. Which is kind of sobering, realizing there is no recourse, nobody to whom I can appeal to for...pity? Relief? No note from Mommy is going to get me out of this mess. Talking the teacher, or my advisor, or whomever, isn't going to come up with an easy answer to save me. That no one is going to appear and say "Ok times up. Good for you for trying. Now go to bed, no need to tax yourself further." The only thing left to do really is put my head down and keep reading, keep creating, keep formulating. Stress is fight or flight, and flight isn't an option. Sobering, yet...exhilarating? I wish someone would have told me this years ago, to learn to stop whining and just deal with it, because everyone is handling the same burdens as me or worse, so stop looking for excuses, damnit. Just do it. I wouldn't have been able to hear that though, even if someone had told me. But heaven forbid I perhaps gain some maturity from this temperamental flirtation with adulthood. No way.

Te he he, you'll laugh at me. I don't know if you've perhaps heard of Cantus, a Ukrainian Chamber Choir, that just happens to be from Masha's hometown of Uzhgorod in Ukraine. They were here on campus performing Thursday. (It had to be one of the best choral performances I've ever seen. Absolutely amazing.) We were responsible for showing the choir members through the dining hall and making dinner conversation with them for the evening. The small talk went surprisingly well, for it being, like, the second time I've ever had to speak Russian for extended periods of time. I was sitting at a table with four of the singers, and another kid from my class (largely incompetent). I was asking them about their tour, what they were singing that evening, talking about music, etc. All very rudimentary, but the conversation kept going nonetheless. Then Ryan came over to sit with us. He sits and listens for a while, and then gets me to ask if any of the choir members speak french, so he can at least connect on that level. It turns out that one woman had french through to university level. We go over to where this lady is sitting, and I stumble through the very convoluted introduction, which went something like this "Dobory den...Eto moj dryg...on muzikant...on by xotel ckazat chto ochen rad chto vy zdes davaot konciert. Oni nam govorili chto vy nemnogo govorit po francouzki, y on tozhe...tak mozhno pogovorit na francouzkom." ("Good day...this is my friend...he is a musician...he'd like to tell you that he's very happy that you all are here giving this concert. They told us that you speak french, and he does too...so...why don't you guys converse?")Yes, still haven't mastered transliterizing. But anyhow, the woman looks at me slyly, smiles, and deadpans IN ENGLISH "Why of course, I'd be happy to."

Who feels like a dumbass. Ah, well. C'est la vie. I was proud of myself anyway.

Back at the black communism paper. Two pages down. Eight more, at the very least. I will slay it. It will be dead.

On Performance

This was supposed to be me venting my frustration about music o' these past few weeks. This was supposed to be me second guessing all my passions and choices. This was supposed to be me kicking myself for not sleeping for two weeks, and therefore sucking it up at the concert Wednesday. And then proceeding to kick myself for being so damn perfectionistic. But somehow, it never quite got there.

I'm disappointed. And music high. I can't remember why something that makes me so mad can spontaneously reroute the purpose of my existence.

More soon. I'm stewing.

Bleep

To My Conscience: Go to hell.

Apology

To Any and All who encounter me outside of cyber space in the next weeks: My sincere and most humble gratitude and apologies. No joke. I don't want to deal with me, I wanna be several thousand miles away from me right now. So I can only imagine running into me, you know, in real life. Encountering me cackling maniacally to myself, while sitting in our dark room prolonging the inevitable. Or just cause I lost it. (have lost? am losing? lose it? Now where is the grammar Nazi when you need ''em, right???). Anyway, all who don't go running screaming off in the other direction when you see me, you are either as cracked out and stressed as I am, or just, well, weird.

College is finally getting to me. Its 3:30 AM, and I'm half way though my outline for IA. Due, of course, in less than six hours. Yippeeee. I may just pull my first all nighter. Heh, I did always want to see the sun come up over the mountain...Just not on a grand total of, oh, 20 hours of sleep this week. You take what you can get, right? Its kind of exhilarating, honestly, to be so fully occupied. I realized today (yes, my revelation NOT iinvolving Brett being the Verizon guy, marshmallow Peeps, or the my unwavering ability to creep out prospies) that I really like everything that I'm doing. I'm honestly interested in everything that I'm involved in. What a, breath of fresh air, you know? It's really nice. So please, don't misinterpret my bitching and moaning. A lot of it is undoubtedly the coffee (or lack there of) talking. I am not complaining, I am not trying to one up anyone. If anything, I'm just trying to put things into place within my own head.

Super cool kickass discovery of the night: Buffalo Springfield and Collective Soul. Or my sister drunkenly syllogizing on the "Boys are Poopy" theme. It was priceless.

And communism. Just...wow, man.

Jumble

School is bad for your health. My internal clock is officially on New Zealand time. Or just survival mode. I think I'd make a good narcoleptic.

I realized today this is my first speaking Day of Silence. In four years. It really hit me, what a long and twisted road this has all been, from that lonely conversation in the thunderstorm five years ago. If you're reading this, babe, thank you for inspiring me, for perpetually challenging my expectations of the world and of myself. I wouldn't trade those long nights, wondering if we'd see daylight among the living, for anything. From you I have learned, in the most sobering real way, that life is a dynamic place, and that I am called to make my mark. That living means holding on to those around you, opting in, choosing to make an impact. So today, for today, I remember so much more than civil rights, gay rights, I'm reminded of that need for action, the desire and anger thats the perfect kick in the ass. Thank you for teaching me, though you probably never knew it, and are thousands of miles away currently. I hold you, in a very real way, as part of my consciousness, my breathing, my goofy looking conscience. There may be blueskies and good jazz on the speakers, but there are things to be done.

Life is...insane.

Four concerts in Eight Days. And suddenly I'm filled up with this intense gratitude for it all, so fully greatfull for all that I have and all that I'm fortunate enough to be able to do.

Weird.

Two 10 pagers, two research persentations, three finals, visa applications, orchestra concert, and all the odds and ends of tying together my life here in final preparation to flee the country. I will, it will happen. I'm at one of those deliciously pivotal precipices, where I know everything will get done, because there is no other option. But I can't for the life of me fathom how I'll get from here to there.

Christopher: I'll be there for ya. No idea how, or why, but you're my friend. And I'll come through.

Enough.

Look! Its a Quiz!

Advanced Global Personality Test Results Extraversion 50% Stability 73% Orderliness 26% Empathy 76% Interdependence 63% Intellectual 36% Mystical 50% Artistic 90% Religious 43% Hedonism 63% Materialism 16% Narcissism 56% Adventurousness 70% Work ethic 43% Self absorbed 43% Conflict seeking 50% Need to dominate 36% Romantic 63% Avoidant 23% Anti-authority 36% Wealth 36% Dependency 43% Change averse 10% Cautiousness 30% Individuality 70% Sexuality 56% Peter pan complex 63% Physical security 83% Food indulgent 30% Histrionic 43% Paranoia 36% Vanity 50% Hypersensitivity 70% Female cliche 70%

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trait snapshot:
messy, tough, disorganized, fearless, not rule conscious, likes the unknown, rarely worries, rash, attracted to the counter culture, rarely irritated, positive, resilient, abstract, not a perfectionist, risk taker, strange, weird, self reliant, leisurely, dangerous, anti-authority, trusting, optimistic, positive, thrill seeker, likes bizarre things, sarcastic

tehehe...i dig this.