Eff it.

Mar. 31st, 2015 08:37 pm
star_swan: (Default)
I write in here nearly every day, at least three times per week, and I have been keeping this up for the past two years. Before that I was writing a handful of times a month. And I have been locking all of my entries. Why the fuck have I been doing this?

Putting this here because it is amazing: extreme words of wisdom about playing an instrument, specifically piano. It highlights how you have to work steadily, consistently, and reasonably resting in between sessions.

My favorite line: You can't cram the piano.


So working on third day in a row of tossing and turning. I would always get back to sleep, but then I would wake up again. My cycles seemed to elongate as I approached dawn, probably because I was talking to myself (in my head) and trying to soothe myself back to sleep and into a more prolonged sleep, which worked, albeit with weird side effects. I would be dreaming and I would think to myself, "Damn! This feels so good, sleeping." and "I can see the edge of the dream. It's the outside world. Shit! Don't want to wake up again!" And then I would "physically" run away and plunge deeper into the dreamscape. I would even feel myself waking up and I would force it away. Then I thought, "Gee. I hope that I can wake up again if I need to." I can do this thing where I can be dreaming and I can decide to wake up, not every night, but a lot of nights. Lucid dreaming is really cool and also kinda strange. Being able to control your sleep means that any stressor or misstep and you can wind up with a jacked up sleep schedule. Mind over matter is not always a picnic, more like a demented carnival ride.

I've decided to pretend like this is a normal day and that I do not feel half delirious with dark circles under my eyes. I don't think that napping is going to fix it. Perversely, if I do my practice (gently) and manage to accomplish things, slowly, it will put my mind at ease better than trying to take half-assed naps would. The last time that I was sleep less, getting good and exhausted was the only sure way to calm my arse down. It's like I have to really want the sleep because a lot of the time I am too wound up or spinning my gears too much to settle down and accept the loss of consciousness. Even if I think that I want to go sleep. Spinning stories helps because it takes concentration, but is also diverting and relaxing and eventually you lose the thread and drift off. How sick is it that I play mind games with myself in order to sleep?

That and Camp NaNoWriMo starts tomorrow. It's the same as regular except that you can set lower or higher word counts for yourself for the month. And I do not want it to be like camp when I was nine years old where I was sad, beleaguered, and half feral from lack of rest.


***********

Three hours before three o' clock! Woohoo!! I spent a lot of it practicing Bach (which is restful for the sleepy mind) and this thing called Parisian Street Scene which has a pretty wicked tempo and is a lot of fun. I feel so accomplished right now, I can't even tell you. I think that I am going to do some leisurely exercises, grab a coconut water, and go sit outside at the shadier end of my patio and luxuriate in beneath the crepe myrtle and snapdragons/mint/violas/morning glories. It is pretty dope out there now with everything lush and flowering, have to say.

Mint water is GREAT! Ice water with crushed mint leaves in it to be exact.

I had to stop myself from going back to the piano earlier. I am tempted to play a little more, just something leisurely. So long as I do my three hours, I suppose I can do extra dabbling here and there. I think that I am going to start doing daily s l o w trill exercises. I started to do hand over hand arpeggios a couple (??) of days ago.

Tonight, I need to shower after dinner (I am going back to showering in the evenings because I forgot to this morning and I realized that it is weird after having showered for years in the evenings, pretty much my entire life with a brief interlude from HS or uni??) and then finish transferring notes and snippets into Scrivener. Tomorrow is IT. 1,110 words per day for a month. I can do this. I just need to find a suitable time of day. Seems like mornings would be best, first thing, after breakfast but before the piano.

Might have to dance this evening to induce serious tiredness. That and it will drive away over thinking by refocusing my energy into my body.
star_swan: (Addicted to coffee)
So I slept on it. Not very well, mind you. I kept tossing and turning and shifting and waking up at odd hours. Colin being out until three did not help. I can't help but keep an ear out for him. I always seem to get a brainwave right before he arrives home and I hear his key turning in the lock downstairs. After mulling it over and bending Angela's ear on the subect as well, and thinking about the various things that I have read (opinions all, but with merit), I am going to practice three days on, one day off. And I am going to scale back to three hours. Two hours in the morning and one hour in the afternoon/evening. This site says to only do four per week, but I think that my arrangement will work best for me. I will see where I am later and if I want to go back to four per day or not. With this system, I still manage to play six days a week, but the breaks allow a full day's rest sneakily placed in between so it looks like I am getting more rest than I am. In a sense, it is more beneficial rest because I am never allowed to play so many days consecutively that I can tire my hands (or my brain) with new movements, new passages, and whatnot. Three days in a row will allow my enthusiasm some breathing room, but taking a day off right in the middle will curb it enough to allow growth and repair and other things such as reading, chilling, watching a movie without feeling like I have to squeeze it in around practice time, chores, daily life. I also took the weekend off. Sort of. I did practice for a half hour last night, just light arpeggios and a Bach melody with right hand only. OH! This site/blogger/teacher also mentioned the need to continue to practice the hands independently. It allows you to pay attention to and to not miss subtlties. I have noticed that you lose something when you split your focus too soon before each hand has learned its part and force them to play together early on. I try to get the right hand down, then get the left hand down or vic versa depending before trying to add. And then I still will go back and forth if I feel like I've lost something along the way.

Newest obsession: Prokofiev's 3rd Piano Concerto (another Bronfman performance from the same year, 2008). I remember hearing it around fifteen years ago and urgently wanting to know what it was. But I never found out. Then a few weeks ago, I found it again! It forcefully reminds me of something, I know not what. I will probably listen to it a couple more times this evening. It makes me think of blue and dampness, perhaps the ocean. There are misty dales and sunlight. Green and blue.

I listened to it twice again while doing the the massive after dinner cleanup. I am now on my FIFTH listen. I was listening to Martha Argerich play it as well. She and Fima are the masters!! They play it with the verve and intensity that it deserves.

I have marked up my calendar with "P"s for practice days and "X"s for the breaks, just to make it abundantly clear. My goal for this evening is to get to bed early, and chill with a book that I have been wanting to read for awhile, and just relax.


I have decided to do Camp NaNoWriMo because it's a place that shows you your progress and in doing so makes you accountable to your goal. I am thinking of setting it at 33,300 (haha, I am a weirdo). Anything that I do beyond that is gravy! I renamed it again….."From Out of The Rain" just for the purposes of the event. So my daily word count goal is 1,110. I have this number fixation and this works for me! It takes place in a couple of days during the entire month of April.

There is this bonkers show, Broad City, about two women living in New York City. It is very odd. I think that I need to watch more. One of the main characters flashes her VaJaJay at a statue of Peter Stuyvesant whilst riding on a Citi bike in a dress. There are no words…

I am still in love with New York even if I do not babble endlessly about it as much anymore.
star_swan: (Snape about to bitchslap (Gof))
So I have been furiously (though not actually) adhering to my practice sessions with a will. The past couple of days I had had to retool a couple of things because my hands were getting tired. I was ignoring some of the Hanon Insanity and rolling my wrists when going up to the black keys on scales, otherwise the tendon between my right ring finger and pinky were going to start muttering unhappily.

Long story short, four hours per day every day is a little crazy at least with current techniques. While lifting my fingers and hammering through Hanon has created a boost in strength, it is simply too intense to sustain. It was starting to make my thumb pads a little sore. And while the soreness was always gone the next day, nevertheless, it wasn't good. I thought back and realized that practicing with lightness and fluidity took longer, but got me to the same place technique wise. I was still building finger strength. As one person put it, "You can't cram the piano". More is not necessarily better. This one British concert pianist was encouraging people to use six hours of their free time in order to learn it, but I would advise using those hours for a variety of things: theory, note learning, slooooow practice, ear training. I was getting a little frustrated also because I want to compose things and learn about structure and build on some of my improvisations, and have the time to do so. I was afraid to ease up even though as an athlete, I always knew intuitively to rest after a session and allow my muscles and brain to recuperate.

Hanon has proved useful, but I am going to ignore the earlier advice and use my wrists more keeping my fingers lower. As one person said, raising your fingers simply slows you down and gives you more distance to cover and makes for awkward hand positions that are less efficient and cause more potential strain. Or else I could just tread more lightly (mf or mp). I get that slowly you build strength and that when you up the tempo, you play more lightly. "No pain, no gain" is a BAD mantra to apply to piano practice. :S

This one professional musician even went so far as to recommend only practicing four days a week for those with busy schedules. I am seriously considering five days with rest days interspersed. So, something like Mon, Tues, Rest, Thurs, Fri, Rest, Sun, Mon, Rest…et cetera. On the rest days, I can just study theory. Hmm. I am still not sure. Or else I could scale it back to two hours daily and take off one day in the middle of the week, possibly Wednesday. The thing is, when I get in front of the keyboard, I tend to get sucked in and just keep on going. I'll break up the time into segments where I work on one thing and then another and time whizzes by. I do realize that quality is preferable and some folks argue that beyond two-three hours, you're facing diminishing returns both mentally and physically. Then I think back to people who say that you should practice for 30-60 mins daily. :S I was supposed to take today off in order to rest, but I did wind up doing 30 mins of light arpeggios and simple Bach. Keeping me away is a challenge! This one guy also recommended working on passages/new tunes first when you are fresh mentally and working on scales etc later and switching it up.

I am simply going to have to sleep on it and think to myself about what is the best schedule, intuitively, for me. Is my goal to become a piano demon or to write and learn music and become more proficient?
star_swan: (Fuck.)
…I more than made up for getting up late by putting in my time (around four hours??) today. I should probably take closer note of how much time I am spending on practice. I was feeling it in my left thumb pad and right wrist a little so I thought it would be prudent to knock off for the evening.

So the birds. At one point this afternoon they were rolling on the asphalt, no joke. I watched them tumble under a car in dismay. But they seemed no worse for wear seated at the feeder together. I changed it out as they watched from the tree. Complete nutters. They tussle every damn day.

I am concerned about Angela. She is receding, putting up walls. I texted her about getting lunch and she sort of brushed it off though she did mention wanting to…sometime. Sent her another text today inviting her to dinner tomorrow, but nothing. Her living situation is becoming untenable, apparently. But she spurns my advances, my attempts to be an ear or to help. I am trying to be the friend I have always wanted, basically. It's like, Allie was here and in some ways we scarcely connected. I feel very connected overall to the wide world even sitting in my room, but to certain people in my life, there are barriers. I can hear/feel/see/sense what they are about. I can't not. But they do not always acknowledge it themselves and you can't make people talk or open up even when you can already see them.

At any rate, I am so so tired at this moment. I woke up late and you know how even getting adequate sleep doesn't quite reverse the fact that you had a very long day prior? I woke up at seven yesterday and did not get to bed until after one in the morning. :S
I am putting in some serious hours, learning a lot in a short period of time, which is amazing. I love it! Though by "quitting time", I am super knackered. I had to force myself to stop earlier. I was unwittingly analyzing the Blue Danube. It's effing brilliant in its simplicity. Strauss switches from consonant intervals to perfect intervals and from more dissonant ones to more consonant ones leading back perfectly and elegantly to the tonic (C). And it's so pretty! Like he'll have the harmony be a second and a third, then two thirds, or a tritone and a third, then a fifth and a third. It just floats up and down the same few notes not deviating beyond the E above Middle C and the B just below that, but it's sublime. Brahms apparently was a huge fan of it and wished that he had thought of it.

And now to bed, for we rise at 9:30, ish. (Not really, more like seven thirty).
star_swan: (Seven BAMF)
What an amazing Saturday after such a lackluster Friday evening. The afternoon was lovely yesterday, but I began to feel more and more tired and sore (in the throat). I felt the front of my throat and it was a little swollen. Cue freaking out. Spent the rest of the evening on the couch watching Shiro Neko videos and feeling a little down. I awoke late cause Saturday. Colin wanted me to leave and give him a couple of hours to himself in the house. I was a little hesitant but I threw on a blazer and jeans after switching out of one of my new dresses and cycled down the path with my bag full of Russian books, counterpoint, and a hardcover journal that I write in once a week to sort of check in on myself, life listening to The Strokes on my iPod. I had no clue where I was going, but I wound up on this one path just past the library on campus. It is the perfect combinations of sunshine and shade. I was grateful that I changed because the ground was hard and it was still a little chilly. I sat there listening to music, reading last week's entry and then writing a new one occasionally sketching tree branches. It was lovely. When the music stopped, I just sat there and listened to the surrounding art buildings humming and the birds for about an hour.
Cycled past people sunning themselves by the lake and proceeded with haste to WF to relieve my bladder. Got a snack and a coconut water and wandered for a little bit. Hung out in the arboretum listening to Brahms' Violin Concerto in D. Watched the birds and this ridiculous ginger cat that I once tried to collect and take back to his oblivious caretakers on a rainy afternoon last year. My throat felt a bit better and was noticeably less swollen! Hooray! It was so nice lazily taking in the sights and listening to tunes. Felt so good to be alive watching the sun glint off the trees, the water, the people walking past. It was like the town was my backyard, I felt so at home. Colin texted to apologize for pseudo kicking me out but I was well pleased. Sitting there listening to music rekindled my resolve to not waste any time with writing and with music, but also to get a grip. I set a rough date as a goal for having everything together, how I get there is up to me complete with marathon work periods and days here and there of rest and slacking. I need that freedom at least to maneuver in time and space. So by May 2016, I want to have a first draft of the novel ready (or perhaps what I mean is a revised version that could be ready to show to someone) along with considerable improvement on the keyboard and with musical studies. I want to have written something or be really exploring composing.

I ran into my folks on the way back, sprinted to the house to use the bathroom again and then went back out to meet them back at WF. Listened to Petrushka. It is a little weird and sort of sad, but I love it. On the way back I lost sight of them behind me and so lingered by Hart Hall and these poplars that I like. Sat on a bench for someone named "Jennifer" who passed away several years ago by the looks of the bench, probably within the last ten. She couldn't have been more than thirty-something. I patted the bench and told her that I was sorry that her life ended so soon.

By the time I made it back for the second time (and saw Colin and Callie on the path this time), I was pretty tired. It is a little before eight and I am exhausted. My throat is a bit better, but still a little rough and I was out all day. So nice though. I want to look at Russian, but I need to lie down a little first.
star_swan: (We're All Mad Here (Slytherin))
Holy shit, that line. *points to subject* Perfectly put. I was thinking just the other day, semi-jokingly, about how my Id sort of gets it's way, rather frequently. I just don't see the point in saying, "No" what seems like most of the time, so long as it isn't harming anyone. If the Id Vortex were a carnival ride, uhm, yeah...the people who worked it would probably see me on it, er, daily and be like, "Oh, It's you again."

I should turn this into a Lifestyle Choice or a Way of Life. I can start my ride with that frankly ridiculous chocolate pudding downstairs that I just copped from TJ's.

OH. Good news. Great news. Excellent news!! I checked online, they finally updated and it is official. I got an "A" in my Anatomy class! I am so so happy about this (obviously). I just didn't want to assume and it feels so nice to have gotten that grade considering that this was a Summer class where an entire semester's worth of material is shoved into half the time. I'm a little bit proud here. :D

*groans* The pudding nearly killed me. I dolloped what I thought was a reasonable portion into a cute little bowl with a cow on the side and after a few bites, it tasted so damned chocolatey, it was painful. Then I experienced a massive sugar rush. Then I was laughing a bit hysterically. Perhaps starting down the Id Vortex at eleven o' clock at night is not the best idea.

I need to write to Angie about this though. If anyone would be willing to ride the Id Vortex with me, it's her, my bonkers Leo best friend!

In other news, Bill is running all around the house yowling shrilly. I was trying to think of a single word for it, and my brain belched out French: tonitruant. It fits. I mean it was LOUD, for him. I wonder if anybody else who has learned multiple languages has this process where they think, "Gee, what's a word for this in my native tongue...woops, that's not my native tongue. But I like it!"

Bill needs to hop off that Id Vortex before he hurts himself. Cats probably live in it 24/7. It's probably why they are so cracked out.

I want to dance. My cousin Taryn had this brilliant idea. She thought that there should be a Coffee Man (akin to the Icecream Man) who would drive around neighborhoods brewing coffee. People could sleepily shuffle up in their pyjamas etc. She punctuated it by adding that he'd be playing 'Sleepwalkin' by Modest Mouse. XD I love her! There should be some random outlet for dancing...needs. (Especially if you are planning on hitting up the Coffee Man.) Like for people who just need to dance at all hours of the day and do not want to a) inconvenience people on the sidewalk and b) do not want to apologize for it. Like you can stop off at some designated dance spot, deposit some spare change, and go dance. You can stroll in with your iPod or dance to whatever they happen to be playing. Of course there would be music themed hours like Jazz Hour or Dubstep Hour or Drone Hour or, dare I say it, Metal or Industrial Hour. And there would need to be an Experimental Electronic Hour or an hour for Songs Beginning with "L" of which I have stumbled upon quite a few recently.
For the life of me, I cannot understand how people can wander around with earbuds or headphones fitted to their ears all the time without at the very least succumbing to toe or finger tapping. Un(?)fortunately, I caught myself beginning to walk and move around a bit to the music, in public. It's like that line in the Japanese film "Shall We Dance?": 'You're the last to know.' :O

Ahhh! I just cannot help myself and having random dancing parlors(???) would help. Or how about dance cafés? Because espresso and brew=truckloads of money and they would need to stay open/survive somehow. There could be Happy Hour(s). This is not just my Id talking here.
star_swan: (Sunflowers)
Just left a possibly, stupidly long quotey comment on my friend's A03. I think that I wound up mostly quoting and gushing and scarcely leaving any (to my mind) insightful or useful commentary. I am blaming my period brain. I read it a couple of days ago. But I have been too tired to formulate a coherent response. Haha, so this was slightly less incoherent than what it would have been had I commented yesterday or the day before, only every so slightly...
Fuck, I love her stories. There is only the now and all it affords you to feel in explosive colors that bleed out of you in the hopes of touching others.

There is a lovely breeze out. The relative temperature (relative to wherever you happen to be: the grass, the pavement, the patio all vary by degrees) outside is warm, but it is still nice. I am longing for a storm, for dampness. That would make my life right now. I realize why the change is so comforting, apart from it being what I was born into, what I am used to, what I grew up with. There is so much (more) sensation in a storm, the drop of the barometer, the accumulation of moisture that you can feel and smell on the surface of your skin, inside your nostrils, caressing the airways of your lungs. And standing in the rain with all of your free nerve endings alight with the cool droplets pouring down from the sky, rolls of thunder in your ears, flashes of lighting bouncing off your retinas. Wow. I miss it. I never thought directly about it, but it is an enveloping sensory experience.
Fuck science, really, except for its capacity to afford one yet another pathway for expression. That is what I will use it for. I sincerely hope that no one mistakes me for a true devotee. I am tied down to no belief system, be it outwardly, purportedly religious or vapidly, misleadingly, fallaciously factual in nature. In nature. What the fuck do they know about nature in their ever pressing need to dissect it and lay out all of the bits for further, cold-blooded probing? I believe in the web of life, the interconnectivity of the universe, and in magic. And rainstorms.


In other news...lady parts are stabbing me (but not as much in the feels, it's more strictly physical, thank gods) , Colin is mopey because he seems vaguely dissatisfied/tired and I think it is because he is exhausting himself with theatre and trying to avoid home so much it hurts. I would like him to feel more comfortable (even with nagging grandparents) and to feel safe here. I know that someone like him treats home as a temple and if it can't be, he tends to fall apart a bit. He needs it. We all need it. You can't always be flinging yourself here and there willy nilly. Not even the most outlandish of extroverts can manage that. I told him that I did not want him going into the city alone to see the Front Bottoms, one of his favorite bands. A friend was supposed to go, but she punked out on him. It is not all dire though. Yesterday we went to see Begin Again again and Colin met us after outside the theatre and for a moment everyone looked happy to be in each others' presence(s). That film though....it completes me. XD It was even better the second time around. Just....incredible.

Colin wants to see it again so I will have to take him or give him some money to go see it with someone. Hmm.

I don't often see people with as wide an array of facial expressions as me. What's weirder is when they seem to possess the same ones. o_O This is just random gifs on the internet, nobody around here. Or have you ever encountered people (am I actually addressing questions to my blog now?) who have a rather similar life path, upbringing, sort of only in an odd reversed mirror image sort of way? ...like they moved or did things at around the same age, or grew up someplace wintry and defined by it and you grew up someplace where it didn't ever exist and you longed for it because you glimpsed it in picture books and they wished for the things, conversely, that you had in abundance where snow never touched the ground, a brisk chill never kissed the air? But there are uniting factors like being an only child, the observer. It's like they could be your mirror twin. Only NOT. Yeah, uh. Severe babbling. Bad. Bad. Must stop. Pay no attention to the complete freak behind the curtain...this has nothing the hell to do with anything. Any resemblance to...is purely blablabla etc.

Oh and, Colin said the other day that I am the most awkward person that he knows. WHUT?

I feel like a fool for wanting little quiet, happy moments and perhaps I am making a big deal of it, but I can't stand it when he is just lying there in his room, clearly moping and feeling sorry for himself. I am allowing him to get away with it for about another hour or two before I need to make dinner and then he is talking to me whether he likes it or not. This is ridiculous. He is trying to learn six new songs in a short period of time and I can tell that he is receding in the face of feared failure. His room is a disaster zone, again. He is just settled morosely in bed amidst a cluttered sea of his haphazard possessions. It's the perfect stereotype of teenage angst. Perhaps drama is as drama does. STILL. :S

Meanwhile, amidst my ravings I have the bonkers/impossible schedule this week. Need to cram info for Exam 5 and then turn around and review for the final that occurs on the very next day. I was planning to review more this weekend, but it got away from me. I was also so tired. I am so tired. Urrghh.
star_swan: (Default)
Who got 49/50 on the last lecture exam? This person, right here!!! YES. I think that I did well on the lab bit too so that's a great big boost from like 88-89% overall to a solidly, safe "A". We are about halfway through the exams, grading wise though more than halfway through the course. I am so so pleased right now. I am currently leaping ahead since I pretty much have the blood vessels down. We are being lectured on Lymphatic/Immune/Respiratory on Monday, but that's a quite a bit considering that we have yet another exam on Tuesday so I am actually starting early.

Here is a comment that I made on the latest and greatest chapter by Shiso:

"There's this wonderful unspoken connection (again) between them sort of like breathing or the ocean. It feels like there is distance there of a sort, but not really since there is this great, big something connecting them at all times. (I think of water because, well, emotions, but also because it feels like that to me. ) The right swell could come along and just suddenly push one of them back into the other's orbit."

It felt like a bit of a babble, but she really liked it and I like the image the more that I think about it. It got me thinking in other ways. Several of her responses did actually, about life and people. I think that we are all floating in the same whateveritis, something, some substance akin to water or perhaps like a cross between water and light, a form of energy, a medium that we all inhabit/share/cohabitate. Some are farther away, off in seas separated by great watery expanses (that could have proper names if this was about some odd, interstitial geography), but inevitably connected nevertheless, the people we love, strongly dislike, don't particularly like or dislike, and the ones that we know nothing about. And I like that. I like that I am connected to everyone, even people whom I would perhaps choose to not be around. They deserve a space and they have it just by being part of the human race.
Of course, it makes me also ponder the other thing, that there are people whom I like, who I am related to, or what have you that I am also connected to no matter how far away they may appear to be. It gives me hope. It could be a bonkers only child thing, seeing connections by virtue of being the observer, of knowing solitude and not being either ashamed, insecure, or especially bothered by it as a concept and as a practice when necessary.
Sure, I desire a social life a bit more scintillating than the one that I've got at present, but I can go out into the world and do things myself on my own and derive pleasure from it. I can sit in a cafe or a shop and watch other people and not think, "Well, gee I should have just stayed home rather than venture out with no one else to do it with" cause this is what a lot of people do, sadly. It's like they need permission to go out alone, like it's somehow odd or embarrassing. It might just be a smaller town thing. I suspect that in highly urban areas, folks are less reticent about going out alone, more confident which makes them seem usual so that it sort of normalizes itself. And, yo, people watching.

Done! ...with the chapter on lymph/immune. I am going to do the Respiratory tomorrow and then review the set. I cannot imagine that he is going to include all that much from this latest stuff seeing as we will scarcely have the time to go over it in any detail.

Colin was singing in the shower last night at one in the flipping morning. I think that I partially surfaced for a moment, long enough to wonder, "Can I hear singing?" and then I fell deeper into sleep. Apparently he kept people up... He said that it made him feel less uneasy. Aww, he's afraid of the dark. <3 He said that it was taking his mind off the potential for psycho killers to randomly get him in the shower. :S

I could cure him of that. ;D
star_swan: (Default)
Sunday evening, again. Exam 3 is on Tuesday. :S I have decided to check online for math placement exam dates and to study after this class is finished. I cannot see how in the hell I will have time beforehand.

I decided to check online for ticket prices. Was feeling wild and thinking that I might like to fly back East and visit NYC for fun when I am done with classes. It would be the first time that I have ever gone anywhere that far alone. I have always gone places with friends or family. You can get one stop in Houston (no way in blue bloody hell am I going through O'Hare) for less than $500! But now the question becomes, "What the fuck would I do once I got there?" Hmm. I can see going to the MoMA, wandering aimlessly <333, visiting parks, and just getting a feel for it. I am going to earn some money painting. Also though, I really need things such as a nice knee length, charcoal Winter coat. Not some Land's End parka crap or my long rain jacket that I got at the Gap five or six years ago, a legit coat that would look acceptable over jeans, tights, a dress, etc. I also need a new pair of decent shoes for Winter and possibly to fix the soles on my freaking boots (I am still rather annoyed by how they split after less than three months of wear. They were not cheap.) Hmm. It sounds scary as hell, honestly. I wonder where I would stay. But I do want to get a feel for it like I was not able to last time because my ex was lame and would not even ride the subway for freak's sake! Or else I could cool my jets and try going in the late Spring next year after classes end. That would be late May-early June. Or Spring Break!! Marchish. Yes! I like that! That might make a bit more sense. I could save up more money as well. Still getting the aforementioned items though.

I checked the academic calendar and Spring Break next year is from (mon) 3/30 to fri (4/3) so that entire week. I have no classes on Friday and I may not have any on Thursday if I change around my schedule so I could go on a Thursday and come back the middle of that next week, potentially. I could come back on Tuesday. Four days would be enough to explore stuff. Hmm. Definitely something to ponder.

Painted an apartment earlier. It was very relaxing. <3 I just took my time, thought aloud, planned, imagined. I started to get this mental image of what the future could be like, will be, and I began to feel a bit of excitement. When we were at Whole Foods around lunchtime I felt this odd rush. But it wasn't like those times when I am on the verge of panic or fatigue. It was a wave of something like anticipation or the sort of happy feelings that make you dizzy. I was sort of sticking my toe in the pool of "what ifs" and finding it to my liking as silly as that sounds. I am too damn tired for witty metaphors. :P I have spent a fair amount of this long weekend sleeping off and on in order to avoid getting whooping cough or a cold.

I wrote two looooooong e-mails yesterday, one to Hanieh and one to Angela. Accomplishment! :D
I should get Natalie's e-mail and write to her as well. I am trying my damndest to keep in touch. I have realized lately that it really is a two way street and that I am not solely responsible for keeping friends. They have to be willing to keep me as well. So to speak...
Also realized that things come and go. There were periods when I had co-workers and friends in abundance, and then they were a bit less. But then I had a social network again, that one dissolved or broke apart a little to be replaced by another. Point is, this quiet period that has been driving me nuts is just that, a period, a time length of temporary duration. I need to remember that things come and go (even though I wish sometimes that they would not with such alacrity) and that differently good things are coming again. Just hmmm.

I should resume Anatomy and then read and go to bed. I am feeling a little bit of Sunday blah though it took until ten pm to hit me this time.

I feel like there is more here, but I simply cannot articulate it...
star_swan: (Fire)
I have been sick the past couple of days and it may be affecting my head. Coughing, taking extra naps, reading about cranial nerves and interstitial spaces filled with ionic fluid, gawking at Tumblr, reading, writing, day dreaming. Ooh! I saw Mars last night and it was lovely.

But before I launch off, I have to stick something here. So, you know how freaking hilarious it is to read Amazon reviews of books that you have already read, just for the histrionic reactions and the snarking back and forth? Well, this one takes the cake or the, something. I just knew that the more rancorous reviews for this particular slice of freaky literature would be golden, but this person exceeded my expectations. Awhile back I read this novella entitled Exquisite Corpse. Yes, that is the actual title. This was back when I was bored and kept going through various bits of twisted literature trying to find the most depraved piece of writing imaginable, something bleak and weird enough that I would stop in my tracks and feel sated in my bizarre need to vicariously feed off the bent mental wanderings of other human beings who had headed to the dark place in their minds with a vengeance and then proceeded to set up semi-permanent residence. (Something that would make Oscar Wilde go, "Well, fuck, that's strange.") As can be guessed from the title, there's cannibalism involved. It is not simply a metaphor. It's a tad porny as well, just a tad. There is much fellatio et le reste. Here is what one person had to say about it:

"Anyone who has really tasted ejaculate knows that it is not salty--salt would be poisonous to sperm cells. "


lmfao! She's right and, well, is there anything else you can say to that? She gave it one star. I was busting up and could scarcely make it to her other more salient points about the plot (or odd lack thereof in spots).

And this one, so true:

" This book is darkness for darkness' sake, extremely gross and sadistic, and beyond disturbing. Though well written, I thought it was a waste of time and offered nothing but horrific visions and bleakness"


...which is *coughs* what drew me to it in the first place, uhm, before I actually read it that is.
I agree with the second review. It was pretty awful. I skimmed bits because I did not have the stomach for reading graphic depictions of "putrescence" and human rot being sexualized. Euuuurrghhh. Anyone who gets on their eerie religious high horse about charnal houses and people wallowing in sin by appeasing the flesh misses the point of real, human intimacy. It isn't about simply pressing and rutting against tissue compartments and fluid filled layers in order to tweak sensory nerve endings hard enough to spray your cerebrum with ecstatic neurotransmitters.

Our senses are intense, fragile gateways to our experience with the outside world and the only way to touch upon it, to be as close to others as we can whose gazes and affections and comingling of thoughts we crave so desperately is to get as physically close as possible which at times...depending on the blistering intensity of our oft misjudged and completely misunderstood not strictly chemical, but so much more crazily complicated impressions/emotions is still not close enough. No wonder some connections feel a little like drowning or that most people when truly, legitly confronted for the first time in their lives with a love that demands to be acknowledged despite their frantic, intellectual protestations, that tears away at their neat compartments and threatens to knock them on their ass and leave them shuddering all undone like a pile of nerves unraveled from their preciously held bindings, run the hell away in the opposite direction. Love will fuck your shit up! But I like to think that it can be the making of people. Some connections are a little scary, but so so good once you get past that , er, period of adjustment. Everyone is basically in awe of that most carefully navigated emotion. Who wouldn't be. It's heady stuff. It's REAL, no do over, no half-assed, "Well let me think about it..." NO. You don't get to think. You're asked to feel and to own up to it. Then you actually get to revel in it even as it is still tilting your world on its axis. Such delicious pain. :S

Whoa. Anyway. Yeah.

I was reading something earlier that started me on this path to being all wound up. It was a couple of stories, really, though the last one really hit me. People speak of parts and of types, but really, who you fall in love with becomes the only type for you, when you really fall irretrievably, inescapably hard. You see that form and that aspect everywhere and you want it because you want the person inside who it has come to represent so completely...the physical footprint of their being on this earth. You may not even know it, that like a magnet or something else equally as cheesy sounding, the universe is conspiring to draw you in a bit closer, closer, closer still...
This might be why some folks say that they feel that they already know someone even though they have never met or how they just sort of knew even though it was illogical and really the complete knowing only came later in retrospect when they were finally capable of giving words to their initial impressions of that other person.

Hmmmm.

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I was promised tea

April 2017

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about me

I'm a mad translator with a degree in Comp Lit and assorted languages. Writing a novel and studying violin. (The story has been flailing along for the past couple of years. I think that the Scrivener research file is larger than the actual text.)

I live with a rather naughty ginger cat. Is there any other kind?

I love tea, loose leaf teas, teas in sachets, all sorts of teas and COFFEE. The more legally, addictive stimulants, the merrier!

Music and books are my life. I basically live in a closet-sized library with a container garden. I occasionally sleep. <3

ivybellis ------> star_swan

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