philosophia

Rerouted

2007-07-08T18:30:00.003-04:00

Update: Please find my newest blog at DesMoinesRegister.com/sophia.

Hey everyone, thanks for your patience as my blog has transitioned. You can check out my new blog here. I'm writing for Juice magazine now, so you can also read new stories online too. Thanks for reading, and see you at my new juicy locale.

I Don't Like Cities, But I Like Björk*

2007-04-22T08:51:00.000-04:00

*Allusion to Madonna's lyric-writing wonder: "I don't like cities, but I like New York."

Björk's newest album, Volta, is set to come out on May 7th. It's said to be quite different than her last album, Medúlla, which for most, was really hard to swallow. It featured a strong focus on the voice (including both a capella and tape overs), and perhaps more notably, a lack of the lush instrumentation she is known for. I saw her live on her Medúlla tour, and it was the most psychedelic concert I have ever attended except for a Freshman Department Recital a few years back.

Vulta, however, is said to be quite different and will feature outside musicians including Timbaland. But, from the looks of this album cover, it reminds me more of her "I Miss You" video than anything else...

Dye A Log

2007-04-16T14:02:00.000-04:00

YOU: Bad Girl, Philosophia. You've been M.I.A. for TOO LONG. We should call you "PhilosophM.I.A.".

ME: Wait! But I've been really busy!

YOU: How so?

ME: Well, I teach lots of piano students, and I am a Music Critic now for the Democrat & Chronicle!

YOU: Well, aren't you just Miss "Fancy Pants".

ME: Not really. I need new jeans.

YOU: Well, you should have told us and said something.

ME: You're right, I should've. I'm sorry.

I Heart Stacy and Clinton

2006-10-25T19:05:00.000-04:00

Top 10 Reasons I Watch TLC's What Not To Wear :

10. See title.

9. Stacy and Clinton taught me how to create a waistline.

8. I enjoy hearing Stacy say "friggin' fraggin' fabulous".

7. I like it when Stacy says "bonjour" phonetically. Heck, I even like it when she says "fermez la bouche" phonetically, too.

6. Even though I know it's coming, I always act surprised when Carmindy sweeps a light highlight color under the guest's eyebrows to make their eyes appear bigger and brighter.

5. I like it when Nick makes people get their hair cut really short, even if they're crying.

4. After I watch the show, I read Stacy and Clinton's bios online and see how my life can fit into to theirs so we can all be really good friends. And, I'm creepy.

3. I get better at the online quizzes when I watch the show more.

2. I enjoy it when Clinton references the "ice cream cone effect" when he sees people wearing tapered pants.

1. I now recognize that straight-leg jeans and pointy shoes that hurt are really what's important in life.

Whack

2006-10-04T18:23:00.000-04:00

Yes, according to Whitney Houston, "crack is whack".

You know what else is whack? I was at the laundromat this week, casually waiting for my five loads of laundry to dry in two dryers -- a tragic mistake. They took twice as long to dry off, but it gave me plenty of time to read and experience life in slow and boring motion.

While I was sitting there, a nice young man walked up to me, and held up a very small bag of white powder that he found in his dryer.

"I think it's crack", he said.

"Oh my", I raised my eyebrows.

I've never seen crack, but I went along with it. He walked the bag up store owner, and she told him that she'd "take care of it". I'm still wondering if it ever made it to the police...

Pure Beech = Pure Love

2006-09-27T23:51:00.000-04:00

So, I've discovered these new bed sheets called Pure Beech, and all I ever think about now is sleep. These sheets snuggle you right on back; I promise. And, I'm not paid to endorse. I just firmly believe in their goodness. They're 100% natural and made of a material called "modal", derived from beech trees. So, they're allergen free, and they're incredibly soft. You won't be disappointed. Above is a picture of my sheets; the color is "pewter". Careful - you can't jump into them through the computer screen!

Ewww

2006-09-23T22:44:00.000-04:00

So, today on the way home from the grocery store, I passed by a hair salon called "Follicles". To me, that just doesn't sound quite right; it actually sounds quite uninviting. I'd put that in the rankings with "Dan's Druff Barbor Shop", if ever it existed.

Back

2006-09-22T18:41:00.000-04:00

Hey, everyone!

Thanks for your patience. I'm back! (Please note the picture on the left.) Below are the top 5 reasons I didn't blog this summer:

5. I only had access to dial-up internet access.

4. I've been having somewhat serious hand problems. The good news is that the docs have figured it out for the most part, and hopefully, I'm on the road to recovery! Now, I use Dragon Naturally Speaking System, a voice-activated typing program, so I don't have to type as much. I'm still in the process of training it though. When trying to type "Dragon Naturally" in the previous sentence, it typed"drag in i.e. really he".

3. I think the previous two were my strongest reasons.

2. Why don't I take the time to just say that I'm looking forward to my comeback, bloggy style.

1. See you at the next post!

Pages From My Diary

2006-06-13T16:47:00.000-04:00

Dear Madonna,

I know that you say that "time goes by so slowly", but I've been thinking that it actually goes by so quickly. It's already a month into my summer vacation, and I'm trying hard to figure out exactly what I've accomplished, and I'm not sure that I really know. I don't know, I was just thinking...

See you on my posters in my room in just a few; I just have to finish up a couple e-mails.

Sophia

P.S. - Sorry I've been listening to Gwen Stefani lately; I really think you're still "the bomb" too.

Moving On Upish

2006-06-04T18:08:00.000-04:00

So, last week, I moved twice. Once out of the dorm (it's about time, Sophia) into my new apartment(!), and then back home for the summer. It was a last minute, split decision to stay in the same vicinity, and just so I would not miss dorm life too much, I moved pretty much right across the street from that grand tower that intersects the heavenlies.

After a long talk with my patient, insightful, and always-there-for-me best friend over what the heck I should do, I buckled down and bombarded Craig's List. And let me tell you, Craig was ready for me to raid his list, because I did, and I had no regrets about it. He didn't either. I narrowed down my search to five apartments. After contacting all the landlords and making arrangements to visit them the next day, I ran out to my car and drove out to see them all ahead of time, because I'm neurotic like that. I thought they looked pretty nice for the most part, so I didn't cancel any of the appointments, except for the one with the rotting porch and the broken glass.

Then, a light from heaven shone down (it could've been a light from my dorm) and I remembered this girl who posted an ad on campus, looking for a roommate. I thought I'd give it a try, so I looked her up on our school's stalkernet directory, and I called her. She responded promptly, so I became a little skeptical. But see, I'm sketchy, so I went along with it. The only time that worked for both of us to meet was 11 pm that evening, or 8 am the next morning. We settled for that evening, and I went over to her crib. I got a good feeling about it, and about her, and I almost told her that I was "in" if it was alright with her, but I said that I would tell her the next day for sure.

Sure enough, said "next day" came around, and I began my apartment visits. The first studio I visited was so sketchy - even too sketchy for me. It was about the size of my dorm room, reeked of cigarettes, and was as dark as a room with one little window in it, perhaps because it was a room with one little window in it. The next apartment I went to, the landlord met me and said he couldn't show it to me because he was in the process of evicting the current tenant. He offered to show it to me later in the week, and then he asked me how long I'd be in town. People who know me know that I'm an awful liar, and I really didn't know what to say, and I really didn't want to see the apartment anymore, so I said I'd be leaving town in about 15 minutes.

Right after this, I called the ad girl and told her I really wanted to live with her next year. She said yes, and it was the beginning of a blissful year-long housing relationship.

Stay tuned for how I found all my furniture. You won't regret it. I already told one person about it, and he thought it was funny. OK, he was actually the person who helped me move all the furniture...

Linky Loo

2006-05-18T19:02:00.000-04:00

I think that if one links to herself obsessively, she shows up on Google more...

Let's Get Digital, Digital

2006-05-11T21:56:00.000-04:00

So, I took the plunge. Within a year, I got a new car, a new laptop, a new digital camera, and a new iPod. I guess I thought it would be best to do it all at once, to get all the pain over and done with.

Although I do not own my car yet, in five years, when it's old, I can look forward to being its proud owner. I promise you, I needed this car. My new laptop was a necessary purchase because on my old one, I could not use Microsoft Word and check my e-mail at the same time. And everyone knows that the way to write a good paper is to check your e-mail. The digital camera was a bit frivolous I guess, but my old camera only works intermittently. It's not digital, and quite frankly, I'm tired of having people look at the back of my camera trying to check out the screen that isn't there. It's demoralizing.

The iPod I guess wasn't necessary either, but it sure is fun! I enjoy having all of my music on such a nice little portable device. It's a big improvement from loading all of my CDs around.

Welcome to the world of every other college student your age, Sophia.

Green and Guilty

2006-05-03T09:37:00.000-04:00

So, in response to Earth Day, I decided to almost exclusively purchase all organic products (and some natural ones), so as to be nice to the environment. Up until now, I had bought some organic and natural products, but now, I'm going full blast. I consulted my greenest friend, Zach, about my switch. It turns out that I had already purchased a lot of J/A/S/Ö/N products, as they are organic and pretty reasonably priced. Before he knew this though, he wrote:

do you get J/A/S/Ö/N products? i like J/A/S/Ö/N products. i use J/A/S/Ö/N shampoo and J/A/S/Ö/N bodywash and J/A/S/Ö/N facewash and J/A/S/Ö/N deodorant.

loveZ/Ä/C/H

Now, for the "guilt" section. I haven't blogged in 10 days = guilt. And, I have a new guilty pleasure completely not related to Earth Day. It's Goldfrapp's song Number 1, which may or may not be playing on repeat right now in my room. I first heard it working out at the YMCA when I requested that we put on the Dance station so I can listen to all my favorite trashy songs five times faster with absurdly tacky synthesized beats imposed on them. If you like 90s-esque techno beats, have a listen.

Back on the Blogwagon

2006-04-23T15:24:00.000-04:00

I am sorry. I am also Sophia. If you put those together, I am "sorry Sophia". I'm not apologizing to myself, but, rather to you: reader of this post. But, I am also Sophia. So, just to clear things up, I am sorry that I have not been actively blogging, and my name is Sophia.

Not that I really have an excuse, but if I were to have one, it would be that I have been busy in both my professional (and by "professional", I mean "studential") and personal life. But, I miss blogging, and I miss you, my virtual friends. So, here I am, struck by a powerful second wind, and ready to jump into the blogosphere once again.

So, other than apologizing, I'd like to write about Earth Day, which we celebrated yesterday. If it was your birthday yesterday, I'd like say "happy bearthday". If it wasn't, it's just "happy Earth Day" for you. I celebrated by wearing green, walking in the rain, and just plain being thankful for the environment. I live in the city, so it wasn't quite as "return to nature" as I'd like it to be, but it was still nice. I also took this quiz to see what kind of ecological footprint I'm leaving on the earth. My total score (measured in acres) was 10; the average American requires 24 acres. The sad news is that if everyone lived like me, we'd need 2.3 planets to support my living habits. Bad, Sophia.

I'm pledging both better service to the environment and better blogging.

Can You Read Me?

2006-04-15T17:44:00.000-04:00

I got this as a forward and thought it was worthy of a blog entry. Go ahead, see for yourself:

Can you raed tihs? So far 115 plepoe can. i cdnuolt blveiee taht I cluod aulaclty uesdnatnrd waht I was rdanieg. The phaonmneal pweor of the hmuan mnid, aoccdrnig to a rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it dseno't mtaetr in waht oerdr the ltteres in a wrod are, the olny iproamtnt tihng is taht the frsit and lsat ltteer be in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses and you can sitll raed it whotuit a pboerlm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe. Azanmig huh? yaeh and I awlyas tghuhot slpeling was ipmorantt! if you can raed tihs forwrad it.

Your Sequence Is Safe With Me

2006-04-09T08:34:00.000-04:00

I'm Blogging Today...

2006-04-01T13:23:00.000-05:00

...April Fool's Day!

Hmmm...

2006-03-30T23:25:00.000-05:00

Oooh, this is my second post in a row that contains ellipses in the title!

Does anyone else find it funny that Blogger's spell check on says that blog, blogger, and blogging are all misspelled words?

Oh My...Trill

2006-03-22T07:47:00.000-05:00

So, when I was debating on what to blog about the other week, my faithful blogging buddy, OhMyTrill, was quick to respond with an enthusiastic "me".

So, I told him I would blog about him. And now, I am.

OhMyTrill and I have a very elusive relationship. We are - if I daresay - BFFs (best friends forever) on blogger. But, when I see him around school, we are very mysterious and have been known to peer out at each other from behind poles, only to slip into the background again. Our conversations are abrupt, and often involve the raising and lowering of eyebrows. Surreptitious and intriguing, I know.

Anyway, he holds a special place in my heart. And this post is for you, OhMyTrill.

The Verdict

2006-03-16T18:18:00.000-05:00

You scored as SOCIOLOGY. You should be a Sociology major!

Psychology

100%

Sociology

100%

Art

100%

Dance

92%

Journalism

92%

Anthropology

92%

Engineering

83%

Philosophy

83%

Theater

83%

Mathematics

83%

English

75%

Linguistics

75%

Biology

67%

Chemistry

50%

What is your Perfect Major? (PLEASE RATE ME!)
created with QuizFarm.com

Nothing's gonna stop me from floating. | Tori Amos

2006-03-14T20:59:00.000-05:00

float (flōt)

1. To remain suspended within or on the surface of a fluid without sinking.

2. To be suspended in or move through space as if supported by a liquid.

3. To move from place to place, especially at random.

4. To move easily or lightly.

I Abreva Can Fly

2006-03-06T22:46:00.000-05:00

Abreva is working wonders on my cold sore. And by "working wonders", I mean that if my cold sore were a professor, last week, it got tenured. But now, this professor just decided that it had to take a leave of absence because it needed Abreva of fresh air. And by "leave of absence", I mean that it will be hittin' the road very soon, and for a very long time.

Nose Telling What's Next

2006-02-28T14:27:00.000-05:00

Sorry, this post is just to change my profile picture. This one showcases the extent of my half-Russian, half-Pakistani, deep-sloped nose.

Cold Sore Loser

2006-02-28T13:57:00.000-05:00

So, I have an enormous cold sore growing on my upper left lip. Luckily, it isn't deep red and ugly, but I do look as if I've paid some visits to my doctor for a few Botox injections. I haven't had one since I was a kid, so this is a big surprise to me. I didn't think the sore was so bad, but then, it started to weigh down the whole left side of my face, which is now hanging approximately two inches lower than my right side.

I noticed that people have been waving to me twice. When I say "hi" the first time, they wave again and greet my cold sore. Then, they proceed to hold the door for both me and my cold sore. In class, I raised my hand to answer a question, and then my professor asked me if my cold sore had any opinions on the subject. I've been told that it has it's own area code, and it's working on getting a zip code. You know, people are nasty.

I'm looking forward to next weekend, as I have two days of intensive interviewing for a fellowship I really want for next year. According to the Mayo Clinic, I have 7-10 days of the painful sore before "...the blisters form, break and ooze. Then a yellow crust forms and finally sloughs off to uncover pinkish skin that heals without a scar." Just in time for my interview; I can't wait.

Philosophia's Index

2006-02-26T16:20:00.000-05:00

It's like Harper's Index, only less intelligent, intriguing, and important.

Degrees (in Fahrenheit) outside this morning when I woke up: 16

Number of times I've listened to Madonna's "Hung Up" so far today: 16

Number of Grammys Madonna was nominated for this year: 0

Number of songs Madonna performed at the Grammys this year: 1

Number of Grammys Madonna should've gotten this year: approximately 1 million

Ratio of girls to boys on my dorm floor: 1/7

Likelihood that I never have to wait for a shower while living here: 100%

The price of Honey Nut Cheerios in my dorm: $5.69

The price of Honey Nut Cheerios at the grocery store: a whole lot less

Wrapsody In Blue

2006-02-23T15:25:00.000-05:00

Stressed? Try this.

Lump on a Blog

2006-02-20T13:58:00.000-05:00

Not sure what to write about right now...Any ideas?

Top Five Reasons I'm Like An Altoid

2006-02-14T13:55:00.000-05:00

1. I think I'm curiously strong.

2. Sometimes, I'm a little sour.

3. Although I'm not from Europe, I wish I was.

4. "Altoids" comes from the Latin alt - "to change", and the Greek oids - "taking the form of". My name in Greek means wisdom.

5. Altoids entered the U.S. through Seattle, and I have some friends who live on the west coast.

Whining and Wining

2006-02-12T14:29:00.000-05:00

So, I think that it really doesn't get any better than sitting down with a glass of sauvignon and listening to Rufus Wainwright. I love dry wines, and I love Rufus' whiney voice. I used to not enjoy the latter, but he has grown on me during the past two years that I've been introduced to his music.

Wainwright himself loves opera, so it is no coincidence that his music reflects its influence. It has been said that his "Greek Song" is directly drawn from Weber's Der Freischutz, but I also think it possesses striking parallels to Tutto Tace ("The Cherry Duet") in Mascagni's L'Amico Fritz.

I'm not the only classical-playing wild child who likes him. It was in fact my other classical nerd friends who introduced me to him. Alex Ross, der Grand Pumba of classical music critics, likes his music too!

Go ahead, have a listen and a sippin'.

Humanatees

2006-02-08T13:34:00.000-05:00

In her song, Silent All These Years, Tori Amos asks, "What's so amazing about really deep thoughts?" I think that after this entry, I might have an idea. My latest rumination - that Humanities are a cross between humans and manatees - has kept me going for some time now.

Friedom for both Women and Men

2006-02-05T15:03:00.000-05:00

Betty Friedan (1921 - 2006)

"Changed the world so comprehensively that it's hard to remember how much change was called for."

- New York Times Book Review on Friedan's The Feminine Mystique

Pro[lost and]found

2006-02-05T00:12:00.000-05:00

I've come to realize that if I'm too open-minded, I may run the risk of having my brains fall out.

Skiary

2006-02-01T17:17:00.000-05:00

Wow. Amazing, but a bit too "Are we going to make it?" for me.

We're Gonna Party Like It's Your 250th Birthday

2006-01-27T13:03:00.000-05:00

Happy 250th birthday today, Mozart.

This serious picture really doesn't do the composer justice. He was a jokester and an all-around life-loving man. Check out this Mozart quote via Daniel Felsenfeld's blog :

"Heaven, Hell, and a thousand sacristies, Croatians damnations, devils, and witchies, druids, cross-Battalions with no ends, by all the elements, with air, water, earth, and fire, Europe, asia, affrica, and America, jesuits, Augustins, Benedictins, Capuchins, Minorites, Franciscans, Dominicans, Carthusians, and dignified Holy-Crucians, Canons regular and irregular, and all hairy brutes and snitches, higgledy-piggedly castrates and bitches, asses, buffaloes, oxen, fools, nitwits, and fops!"

- Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

I Like the Way You Work It, No Ligeti

2006-01-25T16:02:00.000-05:00

I've grown particularly fond of the Ligeti piano etudes. Have a looksie and a listen.

Mock Exam

2006-01-22T00:36:00.000-05:00

Is a mock exam when you take a test and then the professor makes fun of you?

Word Plaze

2006-01-19T22:50:00.000-05:00

My friends and I had fun in my car playing a word association game earlier this week. The way it worked was that the second part of a compound word functioned as the first part of the next. Deciding to take it one step too far, I thought that it'd be fun if part of one word functioned as part of the next, compound or not (i.e. - vision + tonic = [vi]gin and tonic). So here's what we came up with; comment me if you have any questions. Funny how "gin and tonic" came up twice:

"rubber band camp site impaired vision and tonic water fall of man-a-tea and crum[pets] smart start your engines and tonic"

Long Live The King

2006-01-16T11:57:00.000-05:00

Thanks to Martin Luther King, Jr. and his supporters, legal segregation of blacks in the South does not formally exist anymore. To think that just 50-some years ago, racially separate schools, restrooms, and water fountains existed is truly baffling. MLK day recognizes a man who was the youngest Nobel Peace Prize laureate and the dominant force in the civil rights movement of the late fifties and sixties. Through his philosophy of non-violent resistance, he was able to move and shake our American and global society in profound ways that have had lasting effects. Though threatened, jailed, humiliated, abused, he did not give up hope, faith, love, charisma, or perseverance.

Some MLK quotes:

"One of the great liabilities of history is that all too many people fail to stay awake through great periods of social change. But today, our very survival depends on our ability to stay awake, to adjust to new ideas, to stay vigilant, and face the challenge of change. The large house in which we live demands that we transform this worldwide neighborhood into a world wide brotherhood."

"I have the audacity to believe that people everywhere can have three meals a day for their tired bodies, education and culture for their spirits. I believe that what self-centered men have torn down, men other-centered can build up."

"I still believe that one day mankind will bow before the alters of God and be crowned triumphant over war and bloodshed, and non-violent redemptive goodwill will proclaim the rule of the land 'and the lion and the lamb shall lie down together and every man shall sit under his own vine and fig tree and none shall be afraid.' I still believe that we shall overcome."

"Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children. I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed - 'we hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal'. This will be the day, this will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with new meaning 'My country 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the Pilgrim's pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring!' And when this happens, when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every tenement and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, 'Free at last, free at last. Thank God Almighty, we are free at last.'"

"Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere."

"Violence as a way of achieving racial justice is both impractical and immoral. It is impractical because it is a descending spiral ending in opponent rather than win his understanding; it seeks to annihilate rather than to convert. Violence is immoral because it thrives on hatred rather than love."

ZZZZZZZZ

2006-01-13T22:52:00.000-05:00

I found this draft entry from the summer - written on 29 July 2005, to be exact. It's sort of appropriate for me today, though. Go ahead, read it. Humor me.

"I thought I could get by on a lot less sleep. It all seemed to be going well, until this morning. I dumped all my coffee grounds into my breakfast bowl containing Health Valley EMPOWER! cereal mixed with plain yogurt and grapes. I think I even realized what I was doing halfway through, but I just kept on going. It was at least seven hours of sleep a night from then on out."

The State of the Onion Address*

2006-01-09T15:57:00.000-05:00

Why The Onion continues to be America's Finest News Source :

Headlines from The Onion [4 January 2006, Issue 42.01] :

Plan To Straighten Out Entire Life During Weeklong Vacation Yields Mixed Results
Man From Canada Acts Like He's Not Cold
ExxonMobil Swears It's Going To Start Taxes Early This Year
Guy Who Just Wiped Out Immediately Claims He's Fine
Peppy U.S. Teens Vow To Make This The Best Year Ever
Marital Frustrations Channeled Through Thermostat
Swiss Threaten Ricola Embargo

Headlines from Previous Weeks :

Teen Gives Up Smoking Pot After Seeing Parents High [28 July 2004, Issue 40.30]
Local Sheriff Suspects Al-Qaeda Or Teens [18 August 2004, Issue 40.33]

*The title is courtesy of my friend John.

Confessions On A Blog Entry

2006-01-08T22:04:00.000-05:00

It's taken me almost three months to muster up enough courage to write this entry, but here I go. I love Madonna's latest album, "Confessions on a Dancefloor". I mean, don't we all have confessions on our own dancefloors of life? Hmmm, maybe not.

It is difficult to put one's finger on exactly what makes the album so appealing. I mean, her beats are not really new, and her lyrics aren't anything to write home about. "Ring, ring ring, on the telephone, the lights are on, but there's no on home" graces her hit Hung Up. But what more are we supposed to expect from the pop diva whose other fanciful prose includes: "If we took a holiday, took some time to celebrate, just one day out of life, it would be, it would be so nice"?

But, we have to love Madonna. She knows her classical literature as revealed in her hit Cherish: "Romeo and Juliet, they never felt this way, I bet". She is very spiritual as evidenced by her song Like A Prayer, the various crashes courses she took on Eastern religion a few years back, and of course, her public adherence to Kaballah. Her song, La Isla Bonita, set the stage for Latin pop greats such as Ricky Martin, Enrique Inglesias, JLo, and Marc Anthony. Her compilation of top hits that first graced store shelves in 1990 entitled "The Immaculate Collection", has been the backdrop of 80s parties for years now. There really is nothing wrong with this landmark compilation. It's spotless; some might even say it's immaculate.

In all seriousness, it is rumored that in her recent Ladies' Home Journal interview, Madonna apologized for the ambiguous messages she sent to young women in the 1980s. She recognized that it was confusing that she encouraged women to be be strong and independent, yet flaunted overt sexuality in her every move. I applaud her for speaking to this.

To make a short story long, I Madonna's new album rocks, and I'm pretty sure she does too.

Simple Pleasures

2006-01-01T15:46:00.000-05:00

Dear Readers,

I apologize for the lack of blogging for a whole twelve days! You see, the Christmas spirit stung me right in the nose, and I've been enjoying my time at home. Some highlights include:

French pressing coffee and using egg nog as creamer.
Wearing sweatshirts with hoods in the back and pouches in the front (I love these! They feel like you're being hugged all the time).
Walking downstairs to play the piano, as opposed to walking to school to find no piano available.
Seeing my mom look at a pilates workout video and then having her ask me, "What's a pirates workout?"
Watching my highlights grow out slowly but surely. Roots work well for trees, but not for my hair.
Visiting really good old friends and realizing that we're still really good friends, just older.
Getting a new car! Goodbye old, non-functioning car. According to the payment plan, I will be the proud owner of a 2006 Honda CR-V EX in a mere five years. I think the EX means that it has tinted windows in the back which will make it easier for me to eventually tint all the windows, install a shiny grill, add new rims and black lighting, lower the whole vehicle a foot or so, and basically do anything that falls under the umbrella of "pimp my ride".
Realizing that I enjoy calling any dog I ever meet "Roo". I explain the change of names to the pooches, and they're usually alright with it.

So, I promise to be more diligent; thank you for your patience. Stay tuned for my deep thoughts on Madonna.

My Final Final, Finally

2005-12-18T16:51:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, at 3.30 pm, I turned in my last final of the semester. I celebrated by driving home in my nasty car without a heating system, tail lights, or interior lights. My smooth operator (a la Sade, it's what I named my vehicle when I first got it in 2000) also sports a passenger side window that falls down intermittently. The time has come; I'm getting a new car this week.

But, now I am home, all safe, cozy and warm. I arrived back and was so tired that I barely unpacked and treated myself to an Animal Planet documentary on the search for an endangered viper. Unfortunately, I was falling asleep at the end of the show so I didn't get to see if they actually found it. But, from the looks of the trailers for the episode, namely pictures of the search crew with the viper, I have a feeling they were successful.

I apologize in advance for the lack of photos over the next month or so; AOL does something strange where I cannot upload JPEGs. If anyone can offer some advice, send it this way.

Now, I'm going to be all nerdy and listen to my new Emanuel Ax (pictured at right) recording of Chopin with the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment - on period instruments!

Aaaand, it's vacation.

Ottoman New York

2005-12-13T11:56:00.000-05:00

Get it? Autumn in New York! I discovered this little word play yesterday in the deep dark aisles of Target. My friend pointed out an ottoman that looked comfortable, and the rest is history...

Air on the Plane-String

2005-12-11T11:03:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, I flew to Boston on Independence Air. Unfortunately, they've gone bankrupt, but they are still functioning and doing it with amazing style and fun. The flight attendants are really the nicest ones I think I've ever met, and they're also quite witty. The service is great, too. After they serve you a drink, you are offered a hot towel and then a mint. Très chic, magnifique.

I definitely flew from Western New York to Washington D.C. and then to Boston, as it was the cheapest flight I could find. Not so fun for me, but that means I got four hot towels. Actually, I got three, because I was skeptical of them at first. Note to the reader: TAKE THE HOT TOWEL! You won't regret it.

One flight attendant was so funny. We were landing in Boston, and he came over the speaker and gave us landing instructions as usual-- buckle up, stow your belongings under the seat in front of you. Then he really got going. "We ask that you refrain from smoking, really for the rest of your lives, but especially on the rest of the flight. We also understand that you can fly with any bankrupt airline that you wish, and we thank you for choosing us." The whole plane was roaring with laughter and delight, and it just made the flight that much more special.

Another attendant, when he was announcing our drink options, said, "We are serving Pepsi, Diet Pepsi, spring water, Arizona iced tea - a green tea with honey and ginseng. And, because somewhere in the world it's five o'clock, we're also offering a chardonnay and a cabernet sauvignon." (I liked this one.)

On the last leg of my flight coming home, the flight attendant said that if we enjoyed flying with them, then we should tell everyone we know. So, I'm telling you all, because I enjoyed it.

Musical Word Plays

2005-12-08T10:25:00.000-05:00

As the semester winds down, so do my critical thinking skills. Here's an easy break from the seriousness of classes and piano.

Below are original musical word plays absconded from the whiteboard on my door. My friends and I have active social lives comprising of laying on someone's bed and laughing about nothing. If we're really feeling ambitious, we go to the grocery store. Aside from those activities, my whiteboard has provided countless hours of non-stop fun. See for yourself.

Preludacris (John)
Largo away (me)
How does your garden Allegro? (me)
Prestoe nails (John)
Adagi-oprah (John)
Andante's Inferno (me)
Andantinosaurus Rex (me)
Graziosewing Kit (me)
Grandioso What? (me)
Vivace-chis (John; this is hard - think, "Viva Chi-Chis", as in the Mexican restaurant)
Legatomobile (me)
Liszterine (me)
Chopinaramic View (me)
Too Hot To Handel (John)
Hadyn Go Seek (me, via countless others)
Kelly Clarksonogram (John)
Bono Way (John)
Ralph Lockeness Monster (Jared; musicologist Dr. Locke really is the nicest person; I just thought this was funny)

Chiplomacy

2005-12-02T08:46:00.000-05:00

The article below is from The Onion. I couldn't resist; it's so brilliant and witty:

FRITOLAYSIA CUTS OFF CHIPLOMATIC RELATIONS WITH SNAKISTAN

KARUNCHI, SNAKISTAN—Citing crumbling relations due to years of protracted french-onion diplomacy, the president of the Central Asian doritocracy Fritolaysia withdrew the country's ambassadors from Snakistan Monday.

Enlarge Image

"We have been supplying the people of Snakistan with pre-packaged consumable goods for over 40 years, and for them to show resistance to our savory products is unacceptable," Fritolaysian President Barbbaku Chedar said, referring to Snakistani officials' unwillingness to adhere to Fritolaysia's zesty new initiative introduced during a between-meals conference at last week's international-trading summit held in München, Germany.

"Fritolaysia has no choice but to crumple up and throw away all chiplomatic ties with the greedy, gluttonous government of Snakistan," Chedar added.

Relations between the two countries grew stale in 1994, when Fritolaysian rufflelutionaries crossed zestablished borders and forced Snakistan to dispatch cheesekeeping forces. The late-night SALTY talks held at Snakistan's Kuler Ranch, however, cooled the spicy conflict with the signing of the historic Buttermilk Compromise, which established bilateral chiplomacy and regulated trade flows by setting the international Rold Gold standard of currency.

The dispute over increased prices and decreased serving sizes escalated when Snakistan, swayed by the influence of the nation's healthiest 1 percent, signed a historic fat-free-trade agreement with the Yogurtslavian nation of Colombo. Preparing for a long and grueling war of nutrition, Fritolaysia imposed trade snacktions and set up a blockade of Snakistan's major ports, cutting off their commerce with Yumen, Mmmmadagascar, and the Chex Republic.

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Fritolaysia's CORNCOM command center.

According to internoshonal-relations expert Grady Freedman, Snakistan's reliance on, and craving for, Fritolaysia's delicious exports will likely force their chargé d'éclaires to re-establish ties with Fritolaysia's government and draw up a late-night treaty.

"The only option besides bowing to Fritolaysia's demands is to begin trading with the extreme funyunmentalist people of Utzonia," Freedman said, referring to the Blandinavian nation that offers similar but less-satisfying goods for cheaper exchange rates. "But deals with the Utzonians always leave a funny taste in your mouth."

With much of his country fearing that the rift with Snakistan could lead to a family-size conflict, Snakistan's President Ghulam Murtaza Pringle, whose pork-rind-barrel legislation and 2002 negotiations with international spambassadors earned him the Hormel Peace Prize, said his country cannot live without a strong, flavorful relationship with Snakistan.

"I am sending hundreds of chiplomats to Fritolaysia in the hopes that something can be worked out," Pringle said. "Even if we have to dig in and get our hands a little greasy, we aim to hunker down, preferably on a couch."

World Aids Day

2005-12-01T23:29:00.000-05:00

"AIDS is not a death sentence in the UK. We have drugs. The politicians also tell us it's too difficult to get these drugs to everywhere in Africa, yet we can get cold, fizzy drinks."
- Bono

Why Punctuation Matters

2005-11-29T06:25:00.000-05:00

A woman without her man is nothing.

A woman: without her, man is nothing.

picture credit

Thanksgizzle, Rapper Style

2005-11-24T21:35:00.000-05:00

Rappers have a lot to be grateful for around Thanksgiving. I mean, they've probably got their money on their mind, and perhaps, if they're lucky, maybe even two turntables and a microphone back at the house. I think that as a gesture of kindness and goodwill, they should give back to the community, maybe by donating to their favorite charity. I mean, I'm sure a lot of them do already. But, for those that don't, they can just start of small. You know, even a check for 50 cent can go a long way.

Panda-monium

2005-11-21T16:58:00.000-05:00

For that panda-loving person inside us all.

Regrets

2005-11-17T15:14:00.000-05:00

Beginning in September, the major department stores kindly reminded us with large Christmas trees, dancing present boxes, and festive music, that the holidays were fast approaching. There's a lot to reflect about this time of year: being grateful, helping others, new beginnings, going home, memories...

...For me, one such memory was when I informed my friend Jeffrey Tucker that Santa Claus didn't exist. We were in the third grade and riding the bus home around the holidays. My grandfather had finally confirmed my strong suspicion that Santa Claus was a hoax, and I was so delighted to tell someone the news. Ruthlessly, I told Jeffrey when he gave me the run-down on his Christmas wishlist.

"...So, that's what I asked Santa for", he beamed.

"Um, you mean what you asked your parents for?" I questioned.

"Noooo, it's what I asked Santa for." he replied.

"Yeah, Santa doesn't exist. My grandfather told me so, and he knows everything."

Oh, the glee in my heart, I was so happy to tell someone my newly acquired information. I really had good intentions; I just wanted my friend to know the truth about the secrets of the universe, which at the time, consisted of slap bracelets, the Tooth Fairy, and Santa Claus. Suddenly though, he started crying. His two older twin sisters were on the bus glaring at me, and I knew I was in trouble. Feeling so bad, I reassured Jeffrey that I was "only kidding".

I know, I was a ruthless kid.

Photo credit - The picture above is of Zach, the amazing baritone I have the honor of accompanying. Here, he is pictured with a Santa Claus that graces his apartment - Mardi Gras beads, shades, and all.

Tower of Power

2005-11-15T11:08:00.000-05:00

In the same vein of yesterday's post, check out this article on composer Joan Tower in the Kansas City Star. You may have to create an account to view it.

Some highlights from the article :

“My music is about a kind of visceral communication,” she has said, “a kind of sharing. It’s colorful and accessible. I want it to be heard.”

Music itself is neither masculine nor feminine, Towers argues. It’s either good or it’s bad.

“Everything in music goes counter to what we think of as feminine or masculine,” she said. “It just doesn’t apply.”

Next Thing You Know, They'll Let Women Vote...

2005-11-14T14:20:00.000-05:00

Via Daniel Felsenfeld's awesome new blog :

"Finally, at long last, and to much hoo-hah in the press, a woman will conduct the Vienna Philharmonic, a famously stubborn all-male holdout organization which had the grace, a few years back, to finally admit a female to their orchestral ranks--a harpist, of course. But hell, this is progress!"

Please join me as I shamelessly plug the Women In Music Festival (WMF) at the Eastman School of Music. Designed to celebrate and promote women involved in all aspects of music, including composition, performance, teaching, scholarship, and administration, it was a great hit last year - its inaugural season.

It was much fun co-founding the festival - from creating the logo and image*, to formulating the mission statement, and formatting the layout of the concerts, etc. It will be nice to focus more on programming and Libby Larsen's visit, among other things, this time around. I'm thrilled to serve as the assistant director of the festival again this year; the director, Dr. Sylvie Beaudette, is one of the most amazing women I have ever met.

*I really had a blast with the festival's logo. My seed ideas consisted of doing something along the lines of MU[women]SIC (get it? women in the word "music"?!). Finally, I designed the concept of a half note combined with the female sign. I picked orange and grey because I think those colors look nice together, and we wanted to dispel the idea that anything related to women had to be pink. Nathan, my amazing graphic designer friend, saw the potential desperately trying to peek out of my feeble attempts forged in the deep dark files of Microsoft Word, and actually made logo look cool (see above).

Tacky

2005-11-12T16:09:00.000-05:00

So, last week, I missed one of my favorite classes in the whole world. And the reason? To finish my midterm project for that very class. Meanwhile, I showed up at the end of class, turned it in, and proceeded to talk to my dear professor about how much I loved the project, which was actually true. Clearly though, I enjoyed it so much that I missed his lecture for it. Um, that's really tacky. It rivals the time that I missed Meg and Ben's wedding ceremony and showed up for the reception. I really didn't mean to; I left plenty of time to get there, actually, a whole hour and a half extra. There was just an unrealistic amount of traffic in New Hampshire. Still, I was a no-show for the most important part of their wedding. TACKY.

The Periodic Table of Elephants

2005-11-09T16:20:00.000-05:00

I think this is fabulous.

The Death of the Death of Classical Music, An Addendum

2005-11-07T12:13:00.000-05:00

A beautiful example of the power and broad appeal of classical music. With no stuffy halls or $190 tickets, the music was free to communicate to a wide variety of people...And look at the results! :

ArtsJournal, citing The Washington Post : "13,000 people packed the Mall in Washington, D.C. last weekend to watch a simulcast of Washington National Opera's production of Porgy & Bess on a huge, 18-by-32 foot video screen. 'When Angela Simpson sang Serena's lament My Man's Gone Now, the applause was thunderous. And the cheers were repeated for almost every song from Indira Mahajan as Bess and Gordon Hawkins as Porgy. And for once, the cheers and the notes weren't trapped by the chandeliers of the Opera House but floated off into the blue sky over the Mall.'"

The Death of the Death of Classical Music*

2005-11-06T15:56:00.000-05:00

*The title is a quote by Alex Ross. See the penultimate line of this entry for its context.

Those who say that classical music is losing its popularity in today's society may be probing at a deeper issue: that our methods of musical communication might have to be continually evaluated as we embrace new cultural changes.

I believe that classical music is as relevant today as ever. Its place in our society is largely centered around how we communicate it and make it pertinent to the culture around us. I don't mean that we should "dumb it down" so to speak, but I do think that we should evaluate how to make it accessible via ticket prices, performance venues, viable programming to relate to audiences, online streaming, etc.

I point you to a great posting by Alex Ross, for more thoughts on the issue:

"Drew McManus directed me toward some startling statistics on orchestra ticket prices, which appeared in a recent piece by Peter Dobrin of the Philadelphia Inquirer. To quote:

If interest in classical in waning, why then, when BBC Radio 3 offered Beethoven symphonies online a few months ago, did Beethoven draw an astonishing 1,369,893 downloads? How can we downgrade classical to esoteric when the Philadelphia Orchestra drew an estimated 8,000 listeners for its neighborhood concert at Montgomery County Community College in July? That's three times the capacity of Verizon Hall. What these two happy events have in common is a characteristic that's inconvenient for classical music presenters to consider: Both were free....

Given the escalation of ticket prices for orchestral concerts in the last few decades, plus the expanding number of entertainment options, the mystery in classical music is why times aren't even tougher than they are. Quite by accident a couple of months ago, I came across a routine Philadelphia Orchestra press release from Nov. 23, 1975, announcing a subscription program. Tickets were listed at $2, $3.50, $4, $4.50, $5, $7, $7.50, $8 - with the top ticket price a big $8.50. A complete listing for the season shows the highest ticket for a regular subscription concert was $10.50. Converted into 2005 dollars, that would mean the top ticket price to hear the Philadelphia Orchestra today should be $39.33.

Of course, it's not. The highest ticket price next season will be $122 - an escalation three times the inflation rate.

The whole piece is worth reading. Dobrin acknowledges the difficulty of bringing ticket prices back down, but urges that something be done to make concerts more affordable. Expensive marketing ventures might turn out to be utterly unnecessary if people had to pay less. See Marc Geelhoed for broader thoughts on current orchestra issues."

Now for a personal experience. In July, my Schumann quintet performed once at our music festival on the "rising artist" series, and then again at a local nursing home. It was the latter that proved the most fulfilling for me and for the ensemble. We were not on a stage, but rather in a living-room like set-up, the way that salon concerts were back in the day. Much to my excitement, the audience clapped when they felt moved (in between the first and second movement). The reception that followed afforded us oppurtunities to talk with the audience about music and life. They were very inquisitive folks. Their questions ranged from asking if I was the "director" of the quintet from the piano to where we were from. In many ways, the time afterward was just as important as the concert itself. The audience wanted to engage in some sort of communication.

As a poor student, I fully understand the difficulties in only performing concerts of this sort, that is, concerts with the sole purpose of engaging the listener and communicating ideas, regardless of pay or benefits. I think the ultimate goal is to somehow incorporate this idea into a career or lifestyle. What if orchestras centered their core values and goals around artistic integrity and communication? Might financial concerns be cared for if the community (through who much of the grants and donations is generated) was more engaged in orchestral affairs? The community at large seemed to be engaged in classical music in previous years, perhaps a function of both the composers and the public. Bach only composed in German, in the vernacular, the language of the people, to much success. Haydn and Beethoven's music moved the public so much that they ascribed programmatic names to some of his works. The fact that we would care enough about the music and care enough about others to want to communicate it, I believe, is so powerful.

Another awesome entry from Alex Ross on the popularity of classical music:

"Via ArtsJournal, a good piece by Marc Shulgold on classical downloading. Shulgold writes: 'Naturally, we're not talking huge volume here: According to [Naxos's Mark] Berry, classical downloads account for only about 6 percent of the total of all music downloaded on the Internet.' But note: classical music has had 3 percent of the CD market in recent years. So it's twice as popular on the Internet, and growing. The death of the death of classical music continues. By the way, Naxos's $19.95 offer — which gives you Internet access to their entire catalogue for a year — is quite a deal."

Halloween Costumes

2005-11-02T08:53:00.000-05:00

Deciding what I wanted to be for Halloween was somewhat of an ordeal this year. Inspired by someone last year who had the brilliant idea of attaching sponges to himself and being "self-absorbed", the wheels started turning.

I thought of covering a plate with tin foil and wearing it around my neck. Then, I'd be "silver plated".

I was also thinking of wearing a black postage envelope around my neck and being "blackmailed". I thought it'd be really cool if my hot black male friend, Carl walked into the party with me. I could be "blackmailed" and he could be a "black male."

These plans were foiled, as Carl ended up dressing as a thug, and I as Deb from Napoleon Dynamite (see picture above). My friend Jared was Napoleon.

Jewel Yard

2005-10-30T08:39:00.000-05:00

Top three reasons why I love the Juilliard website :

1. Above the yellow horizontal menu at the top right of the page, there are three pictures. The one above "Alumni" is a graceful dancer. Above "Press", there is a pianist looking quite dramatic with one arm in mid-air. The picture above "Friends" is a man dressed as a beast or a monster (see right). Is that what the friends of Juilliard look like? If so, sign me up immediately. I want to be their best friend forever (BFF).

2. At the top left of the Juilliard website, it reads, "DANCE DRAMA MUSIC". Whenever I see it, I always think it's just like my conservatory, except we don't have dance. Because, let's be honest, everyone knows we have enough drama.

3. This isn't directly related to how much I love the Juilliard website, but my friend Jared had the brilliant idea of switching all the homepages in our computer lab from our school's website to the Curtis and Juilliard websites. He thought it might be a good way to build up our school spirit and morale. I completely agree.

The Most Beautiful Rose in the Park

2005-10-27T19:15:00.000-04:00

Rosa Parks
(1913 - 2005)

Foe Toe

2005-10-24T16:57:00.000-04:00

Sorry, folks. This post merely functions so I can change my profile photo. As "fun" as my previous "happy as a clam" picture may have been, I actually don't look like that all the time. I mean, maybe I do sometimes. Like when I watch my site meter go up by five in one day or something of the sort.

I also made a similar face when I was just recently offered my first vocal role in my friend Lauren's Depeche Mode remix of something or other. I don't really have all the details yet, but I think my part involves the singing of sundry vowels with no vibrato or expression. My friends know how vocally untrained I am. They scoff at how I practice vocal trills in the resonant halls and bridges of our school. I sing sirens in the elevators and vicariously audition for all the lead soprano roles in every opera. Little do they know; I can actually sing it 8 billion octaves higher than anyone else. My friend Matt was thinking of this the other day over dinner, and realized that if I were to sing 8 billion octaves higher, it's quite possible that color would come out of my mouth. Or maybe light.

If that were to happen, I'd definitely make the "happy as a clam" face.

Pink - A - Boo

2005-10-22T18:56:00.000-04:00

Blogged Down

2005-10-20T10:12:00.000-04:00

Dear Faithful Readers,

Please accept my deepest apologies for the lack of blogging within the past week. I was away, and my workload has piled upon me like work that piles upon someone with a lot of work to do. If you liked that analogy, check these out :

Your eyes are like two circles with dots in them.

He was as tall as a 5'11'' tree.

The lake was as vast and blue as a large blue lake.

Anyway, I promise to be back in full-swing soon.

Until then,

Sophia-later

It All Ads Up

2005-10-15T21:51:00.000-04:00

So, a few weeks after I started my blog, I signed up for some ads to put up, as my salary-less lifestyle is beginning to catch up with me. Actually, it's running me over. I think things are beginning to look up, though. Since I've joined Google Ad-Sense, I've made 77 cents. The downside is that they won't send me a check until I reach one hundred dollars. At this rate, I my check will reach me in 2063.

Thinking that I was on to something, I decided to log onto the Bank of Canada's investment calculator to see how this 77 cents could advance my fiscal future. According to their estimations, if I invest 77 cents at an annual interest rate of 2.5% with a 2% inflation rate now, I will gain a total of 2 cents interest by the year 2010. That's a grand total of 79 cents I otherwise wouldn't have had.

As if the financial benefits of Google Ad-Sense weren't enough, I enjoy spending time perusing my ads. When I click on Beeth's Oven, an ad comes up that claims it can "blast [my] musical skills to new heights with rocket piano". As a graduate school piano student, this is especially enticing to me. An Artsy Flemish Birthday elicits ads from the Dali and the International Rodin Galleries.

In some ways, I enjoy reading the ads more than my entries.

Newly A[choir]ed Musical Knowledge

2005-10-11T17:07:00.000-04:00

Below are two signs I saw in a choir rehearsal room this summer :

Togetherness begins with listening. Listening begins with soft singing.

No amount of loudness can compete with any amount of rightness.

Musicians Duet Better

2005-10-09T15:14:00.000-04:00

An Artsy Flemish Birthday

2005-10-07T12:08:00.000-04:00

Yesterday was my friend John's birthday. Being the artsy fellow that he is, I took him to a gallery to celebrate his special day. It was all going well until I almost got us into a major car accident. I was busy admiring the architecture of a large church on the left, when he yelled, "Watch out!" I was still accelerating while the car in front of me had stopped to turn. Slamming on the brakes, I was tempted to thrust my arm out in front of John, like my mom did when I was a child. I was always sure that I'd die from a blow to the chest long before I would from a car accident, so I abstained. Luckily, all was well, and we stopped in time.

So, we arrived at the art gallery, and it was so beautiful. We admired works by Rodin, Singer-Sargeant, Cézanne, Degas, Monet, Matisse, Renoir, Rembrandt, among others. One of my favorite paintings combined portraiture with still-life. In it, a young woman was standing behind a table adorned with produce. She was cutting an onion and presumably crying from its sulfuric acid, but you could sense that she was crying about more than just an onion.

The wheels really started turning when we started looking at paintings by Flemish artists. I wondered, if someone is Flemish, does that mean they're from Flem? If so, where's Flem? Did they ever spell it "Phlegm" just to be exotic? Before I dove face-down into the bowels of stupidity, I decided to ask Jeeves about it. It turns out that "Flemish" is an adjective referring to an area of Belgium called Flanders. The people who live there are called "Flemings" (like "Lemmings"). Their regional anthem, De Vlaamse Leeuw, mentions a "proud lion", which I conjecture is on their flag (above).

I now hold the keys to all the secrets pertaining to the Flemish, Flanders, flem, and possibly even flamenco.

I Go To Hogwarts

2005-10-05T11:12:00.000-04:00

I wasn't convinced at first, but now I'm nearly positive I attend Hogwarts, Harry Potter's school. Decide for yourself :

My dorm's inside is shaped like a hexagon (or some other "-gon"), and although the interior woodwork is somewhat new, it has a distinct old-world sort of feel. (I know this isn't very compelling, but read on.)

The staircases that lead into the various dorm houses are enveloped in dark gray, granite, only adding to the Hogwartian sensation. Sometimes, the stairs actually move, and it's tricky because you have to hold your balance and try to figure out where you've ended up.

We have a courtyard, and people often play frisbee if the weather's nice. If you glance quickly, the really competitive frisbee games often resemble fierce matches of quidditch.

We have conducting majors, as I go to a music school. They like to carry around what they call "batons". But, we all know they're really magical wands.

In the school's main building, when you get off the elevator on the fourth floor, the office directly in front and to the right belongs to Howard Potter. (I think this is one of my strongest pieces of evidence.)

I was so convinced that my school is Hogwarts, that I tried to walk through the wall while no one was looking. It worked, but I realized it was only because I went through a doorway. But, I'm pretty sure it would've worked even if it wasn't a doorway.

What really gave it away was when I saw everyone flying around on broomsticks. OK, this isn't true, but I have seen the cleaning people use brooms. And sometimes, they look at me like, "Why is she looking at my broom? Does she know that we're at Hogwarts?"

Sassy Seniors

2005-10-03T15:19:00.000-04:00

One day this past summer, my mom and I took a friendly trip to the library so I could print out a paper. As we were leaving, we witnessed what could only happen in a small friendly little town: a hit-and-run accident.

This was not just any hit-and-run, but one that involved two elderly folks. My mom and I conjectured that they were probably leaving a meeting for the "Friends of the Library" club, as there was a mass exodus of seniors from the library prior to the incident.

So, as we were pulling out of our parking spot, we heard a cacophonous "BAMMM" and immediately craned our necks to the left. There were two large cars, a Buick Century and a Lincoln Town Car, both shiny and new, with tail ends kissing like the fornicating teens I witnessed this past summer at band camp. The monstrosities were steered by two elderly women whose silvery hair tried desperately to billow in the summer breeze, but was thwarted by multiple layers of Aqua-Net hairspray. Oversized, polarized wrap-around sunglasses impeded what otherwise could have been really helpful in this situation: vision.

One of the two drivers actually heard the collision, realized what happened, and slowly re-entered her space. The other driver, however, continued to back out. "Oh look, she's going to pull to the side to assess the damage of the situation," I said to my mom. Either the zesty senior didn't hear what happened or thought she could get away with the whole shenanigans, because the next thing we knew, Ms. Thang put the pedal to the metal and floored it out of the library parking lot, with black smoke and the echo of screeching tires trailing behind.

I'm not sure, but I like to think that maybe Ms. Thang's reading group outread the other lady's book club that month.

Cafe-teary-eyed

2005-09-28T15:03:00.000-04:00

I am sad to say that I lost the "name the dining center" contest at my music school. "Beeth's Oven", the strongest entry I submitted, wasn't chosen. Sometimes, when caught in the clutches of extreme self-pity, I like to imagine the worst possible situation. I think this ill event mandates such grieving. I bet my ballot was thrown on the ground, stomped on, and belittled in front of all the cooks, the workers, and heck, even the vegetables and the cereal bar. Or, maybe, as my therapist assures me, the cooking staff "just didn't get it". Either way, my tears could fill a river (see above).

The dining center wizards picked "Cadenza Cafe". I know, "Cadenza Cafe" - it's foolish, it's nonsense, it's generic, it's ridiculous. That's what I think too. Curiously, the winning entry was submitted by a cafeteria worker, so I'm pretty sure the contest was rigged.

It appears to be the beginning of the end for our school's eatery. First, they replaced the solid colored plates with plastic rainbow plates, and then proceeded to paint large black electric guitars, french horns, and music notes all over the walls, so as to make the servery look more "cool". They got rid of the belgium waffle machines with the treble clef embosser in the middle. Not only do our coffee mugs not insulate, but I'm convinced they actually suck the heat out of the drinks. There's no more hummus in the salad bar at all. I have to beg for soy milk. Crawl on the floor for a Boca burger. Riot for romaine. And, to top it all off, they named the dining center "Cadenza Cafe".

May you rest in peace, "Beeth's Oven". You shall find a cafeteria worthy of your name.

Trumped

2005-09-25T22:04:00.000-04:00

One night this summer, my friend Tami, four of her other friends, and I took the ultimate plunge. We drove to Atlantic City to "live it up". It might not have been my first choice of places to go, but I hadn't seen Tami in awhile and wanted to spend as much time with her as she was moving away. I had never been to a casino before in my life.

So, we arrived at our first casino at around 11.30 p.m. We ventured in, and before we reached the floor, I looked to the right and saw a line of red chairs. In them were seven people, waaasted, slumped over, and trying to sober up. I was tempted to take a picture of the scene, but before I was able to get my camera out, Tami had the same idea, whipped hers out, and shot a picture of the drunkards.

We walked onto the floor, and I could not believe my eyes. The sounds of all the slot machines coalesced into a low, mesmerizing hum (somewhere around a middle C). This, combined with the blinking lights, made me feel as if I was in a psychedelic sound and color field created by some 20th century abstract film guru. We passed by one lady who sported a sequined vest of poker chips and playing cards. She even had a hat to match. I really wanted to capture her fashion statement on film but was too busy staring at all the fancy light fixtures. So, again, Tami took a picture, and then we ran away.

We moved on to one of Donald Trump's casinos, and I was "feeling lucky", so I was tempted to play a $0.25 slot machine (I was only going to put a quarter in). Then, I remembered how greedy and self-absorbed I think Donald Trump is, and I didn't want him to see any of my money. So, instead, I abstained.

The amazing thing is that they serve you free drinks throughout the course of the evening at the casinos. I took full advantage of this by ordering coffee, two black russians, and one white russian, for diversity. I was pretty excited about not supporting Donald Trump's casino while concurrently lapping up his liquor reserves and tipping the nice waitresses instead.

Other highlights of the night included :

I saw a dealer who looked just like the tall creepy man from Charlie's Angels (see left).

A crazy man stole 10 dollars from Tami's purse. He was wildly intoxicated and completely denied the whole thing. We called security over, and he handed over all the money, still denying the incident.

We met a security guard who told us that Trump is not allowed to gamble in his own casinos in New Jersey. HA.

There were men pushing people around in rickshaws on the boardwalk. I can't remember the last time I've seen a rickshaw. This sight was very intriguing to behold after my intimate encounter with the complimentary drinks, courtesy of Mr. Trump.

Beeth's Oven

2005-09-23T20:47:00.000-04:00

The string players said they were "practicing their orchestral excerpts", but we all know that's a lie from the pit of hell (or from the pit of the orchestra). The singers said they were on "vocal rest", but that wasn't true either. The pianists said they were practicing for the upcoming concerto competition. That too was a decoy. In their practice rooms, the composers were scribbling on staff paper what looked like musical notes. But, they weren't musical notes at all.

This week, all the music students were scheming. Scheming and dreaming. But, mostly scheming.

You see, we had a "name the dining center" contest at my music school. The winner gets an iPod, so the stakes were pretty high. Seeing that none of us have money to buy an iPod, there were a myriad of entries for the contest. Everyone tried to pass it off as if they weren't even thinking of submitting. But, we all knew better. The ballot box was bursting at the seams.

My friend, Jared and I took the liberty to peruse through the ballot box to see some of the entries. We figured tonight would be our only chance, as today was the last day of the contest. So, like surreptitious nimrods, we crept up to the table and dismantled the box after dinner.

Here are some of the entries we found :

D.C. al Fine (D.C. for "dining center")
Jermaine's House of Funk (Jermaine is one of the dining center workers and always plays funk music)
The Passing Tone
Bach's Bistro
The Maestro's Baton
Intermission
Encore Eatery
The Green Room (I like to refer to this one as "The [why does it look] Green Room")

My friend Cory made these up after the contest ended, unfortunately :

Kodaly's Kuche
Haydn Go Leek
Josquin't Wait to Eat Some Greens
Schnittke's Schnitzel
The Serial Bar

I made these up after the contest ended, too :

Lights, Camera, Food!
Telemann's Tandori
Rhapsody In Stew
International House of Prokofiev
Messiaen's Mess Hall
Schoenberger's Grill

I actually submitted a few, but I really think my best one was "Beeth's Oven". I sort of have high hopes of winning, but I can't be too sure. These contests are really competitive. Last year, I entered a "name the fish" contest at a local coffee shop. The unnamed fish was a bright orange beta, so I thought I'd name it "Beta Carotene". All the workers at the shop seemed to like it, but I'm pretty sure it was all a facade, because I never did get a phone call saying that I won. It was all laughs and smiles until they dismissed my entry.

I know the competition's stiff, but I'm holding out on this one. Beeth's oven is pre-heated and ready to bake.

Seacrets of the Deep

2005-09-22T00:11:00.000-04:00

133 Things

2005-09-18T21:15:00.000-04:00

Because after I hit 100, I just couldn't stop.

I can drive from Philadelphia to Boston without using the bathroom once.
U2 is my favorite band.
I enjoy moaning when I stretch.
I think that autumn is my favorite season.
I like saying autumn instead of fall.
I can fall asleep anywhere, anytime.
I want to be a better listener.
I enjoy saying, "let's be honest."
I don't have any allergies.
I collect glass with etched polka-dots.
I think polka-dots look very happy.
I get a sore throat almost everytime I move or travel.
I don't usually swear, unless I say "badass", but that has a good connotation.
Hosebeast, superfluous, and fastidious are some of my favorite words.
I've never smoked a cigarette or taken any drugs.
I love dry red wines.
I usually don't like to whine.
My right ear is slightly higher than my left ear.
I'm really good about keeping in touch.
I wish I was European.
I am 100% Asian (half-Russian, half-Pakistani).
I like black russians, as in the drink. I don't know any Russians who are black, but I'm sure I'd like them too.
Sometimes, I walk into a store and pretend I'm British.
Sometimes, when I say "sometimes", I really mean "always".
I have a crush on Sting, Pierce Brosnan, and Viggo Mortenson. I always will.
Once, I had a crush on a guy with a mullet. But, it wasn't in the 80s. It was maybe in 2002.
I like to think I was one of the fans who helped Mariah Carey come out of her breakdown.
I play the piano, but I really wish I had learned the violin or 'cello.
Somebody stole my wallet when I was in Quebec in seventh grade. They got away with forty dollars.
I am slow to anger.
One of my all-time favorite songs to sing along to is Jill Scott's Golden.
I obnoxiously harmonize to most songs I hear when people aren't around.
I buy things based on product design.
I believe in intelligent design.
I love dogs and think that cats are OK.
I would attempt to do a lot more if I knew I couldn't fail.
My initials backwards are "ASS". So are my dad's.
I try my best not to wear logoed clothing.
I'm an ESTJ.
I dumpster dive and trash pick.
I believe that it's the moral responsibility of the majority to raise their voice for those in the minority.
I hear sounds kinesthetically, as tactile gestures.
One of my favorite lunches is chicken salad with swiss on toasted raisin bread.
I love the ocean.
I live wholistically.
Sometimes, I accidentally wink at people.
People often ask me if I'm Greek.
One of the most exciting things to me is knowing what gets others excited.
I have an embarrassingly low alcohol tolerance level.
I am impatient.
Coffee owns parts of my brain and maybe my soul.
In third grade, I lost a sterling silver and turquoise turtle-shaped ring on the hill by our school playground. I still think about it every once in awhile.
If I could do one thing forever, I'd probably travel.
I want to be a better listener.
I've never had a headache.
I tear up when I hear Horowitz play Schumann or read "The Giving Tree". The latter reminds me of my grandfather on my Russian side.
My Russian grandfather was the most giving person I've ever met.
One of my favorite things to do is consolidate.
I laugh in my sleep.
I am an idealist.
I am very extroverted but cherish time with myself.
For me, fetal position is the most comfortable position in the world.
I love puns.
My dream is to one day be associated with The New Yorker.
I think that people who are passionate about what they do are wonderfully contagious.
I am too easily impressed with titles and degrees.
I love people-watching.
I like to think that I have a good sense of style.
I've read commencement speeches at all three of my graduations thus far (eighth grade, high school, college).
I forgive easily, but I've also learned to be careful.
I've been told I have good pheremones.
I am extremely ticklish.
My sister can tickle me from across the room.
I've never had a pedicure.
My wildest dream is to sing the descant to every verse of a hymn one week in a church service.
In high school, I consumed too much beta carotene in a short amount of time, and I turned orange.
I don't have a TV at school, so I plan my workout schedule around Ellen just so I can go to the gym and dance with her on the elliptical machine.
I am highly organized. Some examples include:

My living space
My documents
My glove compartment
The fact that I'm saying that I'm organized in outline form

I seek the good in people and believe it's there.
Like Bono, I believe in grace over karma.
I shook Bianca Jagger's hand at an Amnesty International protest.
My sister is my best friend.
I value functionality, but I love fancy things too.
I got 10 stitches in my forehead when I was hit with a field hockey stick during practice by a girl named Tara. My sister told me that I was "going to die".
I used to dislike Rufus Wainwright, but now I think he's amazing.
Some of my favorite color combinations are : turquoise + brown, orange + grey, light pink + brown, chartreuse + pale yellow, olive green + turquoise, and deep red + pale blue.
I read graphic design blogs.
I always give credit where credit is due.
I love a good bargain.
People at school think I'm a singer.
I feel egocentric writing 133 things about myself.
But, I kind of like it.
My favorite quote is : "No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted." Aesop
A close second is : "Take it easy, but take it." John Cage
I truly believe that if we loved our neighbor as ourselves, our world would be a better place.
I can trace my musical lineage to Beethoven. So can most pianists.
I smile a lot.
I'm smiling now.
I love watching rainstorms.
I bought my car solely for its moon roof and stereo system.
I once had a reoccuring dream about the "Wheel of Fortune" wheel and Native Americans.
I used to be obsessed with dolphins.
I've never picked my nose and eaten it.
I've picked my ear and looked at it though.
I like lemon anything.
I love most people.
I've never heard anyone with a better sense of rhythm and groove than Ruben Gonzalez.
I think VH1's "I Love the 80s" and "I Love the 90s" are the most brilliant series of shows ever created.
I really wish the 80s would last forever.
My current favorite 80s-sounding tune is Modest Mouse's 2004 hit, Float On.
I hate it when people write "80's" as if the 80s were possessive. It's not. It's just a decade, typically utilized in adjective or noun form. I hate it when they do it for "Cds" too.
I try not to act it, but I'm sort of nerdy.
I love 85% cocoa dark chocolate.
I used to really be into NBA basketball.
I enjoy the smell of rubber cement and gasoline a lot.
Growing up, I attended Russian Orthodox Church with my mom, went to a Quaker school, and attended mosque on holy days with my dad.
Peter Jennings was my all-time favorite journalist.
I don't think that blondes have more fun.
I wanted to leave change in a tip bowl that read, "If you fear change, leave it here." But I didn't.
I like it when I blow my nose once, and it all comes out at once.
I love shoes and purses.
Sojourners, Oxfam, World Vision, and Amnesty International inspire me.
In first grade, I asked my teacher Mrs. Flynn how to spell "I".
Interestingly enough, I went to the grade above me for reading class in elementary school.
I really do think that The Onion is "America's finest news source".
I once used Aveda's Firmata hairspray as perfume because it smells so good.
Sometimes I procrastinate.
When I attempt to not procrastinate, I remind myself that not everything in life has to be an emergency.
I believe that life's better with integrity.
I'm trying to bring back the word rad with a vengeance, and it's sort of working.
One of my favorite songs to wake up to is Sting's A Thousand Years.
I google myself.
I love using a bag from the summer and finding beach sand in it.

They'll Never Tear Us E-Part

2005-09-15T15:40:00.000-04:00

So, I got a new e-mail address, and I've had to unsubscribe to so many things, such as newsletters, advertisements, current event updates, etc. I mean, I'm signing up for them again under my new e-mail account, but it's still sort of sad to see them all go. It's like saying goodbye to that car you've been driving all the way down the highway with. And, all of the sudden, they turn off the without any warning. No signal, no short horn beep, wave out the window, wink, no nothing. Well, this is the same thing. It hurts to see those messages, "We're sorry you won't be shopping with us anymore." I just want to reply back, "Yes! I will continue, just under a new guise." But, the automated e-mail tells me that I cannot respond back. Behold, I grieve.

Here were some of the e-mails that graced my old inbox :

We have received your request for unsubscribing you from the jcrew.com email list. This was especially hurtful, as it was just after they sent me an e-mail inviting me to "meet the tweeds". I really wanted to meet the tweeds, but I just didn't get a chance. I'm not even sure that I wanted to anymore, though. The breakup between J.Crew and me was rather abrasive.

You have been successfully unsubscribed to The Onion Weekly Dispatch! We are sorry to see you go. Do not reply to this message. Even if I wanted to express some sort of explanation such as, "I'm changing my e-mail address," they'll have none of it. They don't even want me to reply.

Thank you for your unsubscribe request. Red Envelope was happy to see me go.

For Sojourners, the creator of my favorite weekly publication, I wrote in the subject line - "Remove - I changed e-mail addresses and signed up from there - Thanks!" - because I didn't want them to get the wrong idea.

Crate and Barrel - Your email address will be removed from our mailing list. Please visit us again soon at www.crateandbarrel.com. If you have any questions, please contact us. My question: "Do we really have to end it like this?"

West Elm - This is to confirm your request that you do not wish to receive promotional email messages from us. Me: "I really do! Just at my other account."

Banana Republic was really big in that they gave me the option to unsubscribe. Now, that's freedom for the consumer. While we enjoy letting you know about the latest arrivals and events at Banana Republic, you have the option to unsubscribe. Your e-mail address has been removed from our list, but we hope you'll continue to visit us at BananaRepublic.com.

Another "thank you" for removing myself from the mailing list. Target said, Thank you. We have received your request.

Greeklish

2005-09-13T18:27:00.000-04:00

This summer, some friends and I were talking it up, and before we knew it, we mounted a conversational chariot and drove right into the Mount Olympus-sized topic of Greek culture. Oh, we spoke of The Iliad, the Adriatic Sea, gyros, the Trojan horse, ionic columns, bronzed skin, the Cyclops, hummus, the usual. We ruminated over how the heck Zeus bore Athena from his head by himself.

Then, with a straight face, I informed everyone that the only difference between the Greek and English written languages is the font. I had the distinct pleasure of being taken seriously for at least seven seconds before I laughed aloud out of fear that a large eagle would come down and start devouring someone's liver.

Four Years Ago, Today

2005-09-11T23:31:00.000-04:00

In memoriam.

Get Way Up On That Dance Floor

2005-09-10T00:02:00.000-04:00

Last week, I caught someone dancing in the elevator as the doors opened for me to get on. He seemed a bit embarrassed that I saw him, and he started to stop, but I encouraged him to keep going. He did, and I joined him until he got off at the eleventh floor. And let's be honest, I crazy danced all the way to the fourteenth floor, where I got off. Because sometimes, you just have to dance.

Environ[mental] Concerns

2005-09-08T08:45:00.000-04:00

It is hard to wrap one's mind around the horrific turmoil of Hurricane Katrina. The devastation is awful, it being the second deadliest hurricane ever to hit the US, next to Hurricane Gavelston that rocked Texas one hundred and five years ago today and killed an estimated 8,000 people. However, not all casualties are accounted for, and Katrina could very well be the most deadly natural disaster to ever hit America.

It is the first natural disaster since the 1906 San Francisco earthquake to devastate an entire city. The mayor of New Orleans mayor C. Ray Nagin, ordered a first-time mandatory evacuation of his city. The problem is that 25% of the residents of New Orleans don't have access to vehicles. 23.7-28% of all families live below the poverty level (the city has a 50% child poverty rate), and these are the residents who rely on public transportation the most - something not available to them at a time of disaster, even if they had the money to pay for it. The elderly could've been too weak or frail to leave. The poverty issue was detrimental in this situation - the poor's means of transportation out of the city were shot due to the storm or lack of money. Their houses are also less sturdy, as they can't afford to live in the highlands like the rich. As columnist Eugene Robinson noted in The Washington Post, "To be poor in America was to be invisible, but not after this week, not after those images of the bedraggled masses at the Superdome, convention center and airport. No one can claim that the post-Reagan orthodoxy of low taxes and small government, which does wonders for the extremely rich, also inevitably does wonders for the extremely poor. What was that about a rising tide lifting all boats? What if you don't have a boat?"

Some residents who had vehicles chose to stay, as they had withstood other hurricanes in the past, such as Hurricane Camille. Katrina was indeed a culprit, but her damage wasn't nearly as widespread as what happened only shortly after she hit the coast. It was the levees of the lake breaking last Tuesday that allowed the lake to seep into New Orleans that reeked the most havoc. The fact that Katrina's fury didn't infect all areas could account for people still not the city to stay in New Orleans. And this is potentially why there were so many people still in town when the levees broke. And, it is this flooding catastrophe that have could've been prevented.

I share the frustration over the lack of supplies and relief reaching the people who need it the most. I mean, it's over week now, and people need not be starving and suffering. I blame Katrina, and I am disappointed in the US government. Not so much in the latter's response to the relief efforts (although this certainly is cause for speculation), but in their lack of action prior to the hurricane.

So often, issues concerning the environment get pushed under the rug. We'd rather spend money on enlarging our already ridiculously pregnant military, giving the rich more benefits, or finding ways to cut food stamps. In reality, environmental problems can come back to haunt us. The amount of smog that floats over Los Angeles creates health problems that inhibit children from playing outside during certain parts of the day. As Sarah notes in her blog, the polar icecap melting around the North Pole reflects 95% of the sun's heat, but the ocean water around it after it all melts will absorb 90% of that heat. Interestingly enough, when storms such as hurricanes travel over water that warmer than usual, they can intensify very quickly. Katrina was flowing over the Gulf of Mexico which was heated two degrees above its average temperature. Again, it wasn't necessarily Katrina that directly caused all the damage, but the flooding as a result of her passing.

New Orleans is a city nestled between the Gulf of Mexico and the Mississippi River. It sits below sea level, and the wetlands that used to surround the city provided a natural buffer against the potential of such flooding. However, at an egregious rate of twenty-five square miles a year (the size of Manhattan), wetlands have been destroyed for the sake of building malls, homes, and roads, leaving cities such as New Orleans extremely vulnerable. The flooding in the South is just another example of a lack of environmental stewardship and concern.

I now refer you to The Cognoscenti, one of my favorite blogs. Graham, its author, has an incredible take on this and all situations in general. Give it a read; you won't regret it. What he's been saying the past few days makes the most sense concerning where our frustrations and attentions shouldn't and should be focused:

"As I said in my last entry I feel very strongly that criticism...Especially politically motivated shots at the President, is counter productive at a time when the nation needs to be united. People are still stranded in New Orleans desperately requiring political leadership."

Concerning the flooding though, Graham notes:

"Despite repeated warnings that a catastrophic hurricane could hit Louisiana, the Administration and Congress denied full funding for hurricane preparation and flood control. Recently released figures show that $27 million was requested by the US Army Corps of Engineers to pay for hurricane protection projects around Lake Pontchartrain, which was countered by the Administration with a miserly offer of $3.9 million. Congress eventually provided $5.7 million. Michael Parker, a former Republican Mississippi congressman who headed the US Army Corps of Engineers, from October 2001 to March 2002, has said of the funding shortfalls, 'I'm not saying (New Orleans) wouldn't still be flooded...but I do feel that if it had been totally funded, there would be less flooding than you have.'"

Graham links to a transcript of of Tim Russert's candid Meet the Press interview with the Secretary of Homeland Security, Michael Chertoff. The latter claimed that the administration was surprised by the breaching of the levees.

MR. RUSSERT: I want to stay on this because this is very important. You said you were surprised by the levee being broken. In 2002, The Times-Picayune did story after story - and this is eerie; this is what they wrote and how they predicted what was going to happen. It said, and I'll read it very carefully: "...A major hurricane could decimate the region, but flooding from even a moderate storm could kill thousands. It's just a matter of time. ...The scene's been played out for years in computer models or emergency operations simulations...New Orleans has hurricane levees that create a bowl with the bottom dipping lower than the bottom of Lake Pontchartrain. ...The levees would trap any water that gets inside - by breach, overtopping or torrential downpour - catastrophic storm. ...The estimated 200,000 or more people left behind in an evacuation will be struggling to survive. Some will be housed at the Superdome, the designated shelter for people too sick or inform to leave the city. ...But many will simply be on their own, in homes or looking for high ground. Thousands will drown while trapped in homes or cars by rising water. Other will be washed away or crushed by debris. Survivors will end up trapped on roofs, in buildings or on high ground surrounded by water, with no means of escape and little food or fresh water, perhaps for several days."

That was four years ago. And last summer FEMA, who reports to you, and the LSU Hurricane Center, and local and state officials did a simulated Hurricane Pam in which the levees broke. The levees broke, Mr. Secretary, and people - thousands...

SEC'Y CHERTOFF: Actually, Tim, that...

MR. RUSSERT: Thousands drowned.

Graham also refers to Senator Lanrieu from Louisiana. In The Guardian's news blog, writer Mark Oliver sites a Washington Post article which reports: "Two months ago, Senator Landrieu told an audience of congressional staffers and scientific experts that more federal funds were needed over the next 20 years to restore Louisiana's wetlands. She 'warned that intentional rerouting of the Mississippi river over the past century, coupled with rising sea levels due to climate change, had eroded Louisiana's natural buffer against massive storms'.

'This is not Disneyland. This is the real deal,' Landrieu said, and in the event of flooding, 'The French Quarter could be under 18 feet of water. It would be lost forever.'"

I conclude that that if we had made the environment a priority, then things would be a bit different in New Orleans. Reconciling a situation that we ourselves made negative by such actions as causing climate changes via global warming that create high sea levels and more impetus for Katrina, destroying our natural wetland buffers, and rerouting the Mississippi River - is our duty and responsibility. I mean, it's as simple as cleaning up a glass of juice when we spill it.

My thoughts and prayers are with anyone affected by the tragedy.

Paula Cole

2005-09-06T23:24:00.000-04:00

I feel very connected to Paula Cole. I mean, we're not related or friends or anything, but the connections are just a little bit too creepy to write off.

First off, I know someone named Paul Coleman. And after my trip to Texas, I have a pretty good idea as to where all the cowboys have gone. I too believe in love to be the center of all things, and today, I was in line at the bookstore, and I just didn't wanna wait. When I worked at a coffee shop, we actually changed all the lines to Where have all the Cowboys Gone? to fit in with our environment. The award winning song transformed into Where have all the Lattes Gone?, and we sang lines such as, "I'll go make the mocha, while you take out the trash. Where is the blender lid? Where is the whipping cream?...Where have all the lattes gone?"

Paula took voice lessons from the same teacher as my friend in Massachusetts. Last summer, I lived across the street from the house she grew up in, and my window conveniently looked right into her front door. My host family showed me pictures of their kids in school plays with Paula. I met her mom and we talked a bit, and finally at the end of my time there, I told her just how much I love her daughter's music. She smiled very nicely and assured me that she'd let Paula know.

At the beginning of this post, I wasn't really sure I had any connection to Paula, but now I'm pretty sure I do. Now that we're BFFs (best friends forever), I'm hoping she'll want me to be a back-up dancer for her. I'm not sure if she even has back-up dancers, but it's never to late to start.

Paula, if you're reading this, let's talk soon.

Flight or Fright

2005-09-03T08:53:00.000-04:00

My awesome funny friend Ryan (above) was flying from Dulles to Richmond. Right before take-off, a flight attendant asked, "Ok, can we get four volunteers to move from the front of the plane to the back in order to even out the weight distribution?"

Highlights

2005-09-01T22:16:00.000-04:00

This is another entry whose title bears a two-fold meaning.

First off, the salon across from my school asked me to be a hair model when I went in to make an appointment for a four-month overdue haircut. My hair was used as the training grounds for another salon in Boston, and it was kind of fun to get complimentary cuts. This salon, though, wants me to be the model for a new line of hair highlights. Mind you, I have daaaark brown hair.

So, the owner asked, "Would you be interested in being a hair model for our new line of highlights? The representative is coming in and we need someone to demonstrate on."

"Oh, maybe!" I said. "Can I pick the color?"

"Actually, the highlights have to be blonde. But they can be sort-of subtle."

At first, I was really nervous, but then, I got all excited and imagined that my hair would look like J-Lo's. "Um, I'll give you a call in a few days," I told her. But, secretly, I said "yes" on the inside. I'll be calling pronto, I think.

For the second meaning, here are some other highlights from my Texas trip:

I saw a sign outside of a house that read "Yard Sail".

Highlight number two...One afternoon, we went to a fishery, and I actually fished because Jon, my brother-in-law, informed me that the fish didn't feel anything when they got hooked since they don't have nerve endings in their mouths. I ended up catching a small catfish (to the right is a picture of catfish that my sister Maria took at the fishery), and Jon unhooked the squirmy little thing and gently tossed it into the water. After our aquatic adventures, Maria and I ventured to the restroom to wash our hands, and lo-and-behold - they had sand soap there. So, we both took full advantage of the texturized soap and not only washed our hands, but also exfoliated as well. There we were in the fishery's bathroom doing face masks.

OK, this one may or may not be a highlight. I have a severe fear of scorpions. I think they are heinous and evil. I remember going to Arizona when I was just a youngin' and shaking out my shoes every morning to make sure the venomous beasts didn't bite my feet. Um, and as I found out, scorpions live in Texas.

Apparently, if you live in places where creatures such as scorpions exist, you're supposed to spray a six foot perimeter around your house and three feet up the foundation with normal bug spray. In addition, spraying the outsides of doors and windows is helpful. All this spraying is not necessary when you have the commercial grade poison that Maria and Jon acquired called Demon. You can only purchase it with a licence, and Jon claims that even when he just uses only a little, he sees bugs within a pretty large radius just drop dead. They even have to keep their dog in for awhile afterward (That's their dog, Chase, above. He was digging in the backyard, hence the dirt around his nose.)

The scene: Maria and Jon hadn't sprayed Demon in awhile. One afternoon, Maria came out of her bathroom and rather calmly said, "There's a scorpion in the master bathroom. Do you want to see it?" I hesitated, but then realizing that it's healthy to confront my fears, I shuffled in almost a fetal position to her bathroom where I slowly uncovered my eyes and watched Jon coax the wretched creature into a lidded container. It was the kind of bad that you keep on watching even when you don't want to. And the kind of bad that you keep on recounting to try to get over your fear of yucky insects with stinging tails and pinchy claws.

What If the "Hokey-Pokey" Really Is What It's All About?

2005-08-30T11:01:00.000-04:00

Just a thought...

Blog Schedule, Vortex[as]

2005-08-28T16:40:00.000-04:00

Sorry for the long (Tom) delay, friendly readers. I arrived back from Texas and am preparing for yet another move back to school tomorrow! My goal is to blog at least three times a week during the academic year, as time will be a bit more tight.

About this entry's title, I'm really mostly just kidding. Texas is not a vortex, although I was sort-of shocked at the culture down there - not in a bad way, just in a different way. I've taken some Implicit Association Tests, one of which quizzed me on my thoughts concerning Northerners and Southerners. Apparently, I had a strong automatic preference for the former over the latter, but I think that might have changed. My trip to Texas allowed me to experience firsthand the culture that I subconsciously had an aversion toward, and, I discovered that southerners are pretty darn cool! First of all, cowboys really do exist. Secondly, Texas has state pride bigger than the size of the indigenous insects down there (um, which are huge - I saw more then my fair share of critters the size of phalanges in colors that you'd only see on rainbow tie-dyed shirts). At first, I was a bit taken back at all this state pride, but upon further reflection, I thought it was kind of cool. It's really like they're their own little country. They have as much patriotic pride as Italians do (see picture at above left). And the people down there really are so friendly. They'll all stop what they're doing to talk with you or offer a helping hand.

With that said, here are some of the things I found amusing while visiting the Lone Star State:

Catfish everywhere (A restaurant called the Catfish Corral; Little stops with signs that read Ice cream, Burgers, Catfish; another restaurant called Catfish Palace)
Silverado Road
A billboard that read Sunday funny Sunday for the Dallas Post's Cartoon Section
Lots of thunderhead clouds
A whole lot of American cars
Slab Happy BBQ Restaurant
Beefmaster's Ranch
Lone stars on EVERYTHING (on highway supports, on the front of the supermarket, on the front of tire stores, on signposts, on cars, on houses, embedded in doors/glass, on the American National Bank)
Texas shaped EVERYTHING (stepping stones, decals, kitchen sink drains, cutting boards, pins, belt buckles)
Cotton Gin Restaurant and Club
Real cowboys (as previously mentioned) with boots, hats, accents, and all!
A gun store called Gun Barrel City
An advertisement for Best Bail Bonds 24 hour Jail Release
Wagon Wheels Antique Mall
A Benefit including a rodeo and concert
A 300 lb. man with garage sale furniture - all in the back of a pick-up truck
A meat farm with a sign that read "Watch your curves! Eat more beef!"
American and Texas flags everywhere (in stores, outside of stores, outside of churches, on t-shirts, outside of houses, schools, etc.)
Firework Stands (open only one week before New Year's Day and the fourth of July, the first one I saw was outside of Dallas, and it consisted of two sheds put together and painted with two huge Texas flags on it)
Texas Meat Market
Fartless Chili Mix
Many fenced ranches (with monograms, names, horseshoes, lone stars over the driveways)
Shriveled catfish heads hanging on fence posts (a vivid portrayal of a man's catch of the summer, sort-of like how some people in Maine hang dead deer in their front lawn, as eye-witnessed by my sister)
A myriad of Dairy Queens (of course, some with the Diary Queen logo inside an outline of the state of Texas)

All My Exes Live in Texas

2005-08-15T23:32:00.000-04:00

Actually, none of my exes live in Texas, however I am leaving for the big country in the south of the US tomorrow, earl-i in the mornin'. With that said, I have high hopes of blogging every day whilst there, but I cannot be certain what my access to the internet (or technology in general) will be like during my stay...I hope to not run into any complexes while in the nexus of Texas.

Until the next entry, may your belt buckles be shiny and your spurs sharp. Saddle up your horses and when life stings you like a scorpion, cheer up, bucko. The sun will rise on your ranch once again, and you'll be happily steering your wagon into the great wide open before you know it.

Bath Police

2005-08-14T16:02:00.000-04:00

My awesome friend Rachel from band camp took this picture of a police car in Bath, Maine - a small town with a lot of character. Rachel was all witty and posted this picture with the following caption: "BATH POLICE, OPEN UP - you've been in there TOO LONG, you'll turn into a raisin." Funny funny punny.

Iranians + Uranium = Use Your Cranium...

2005-08-13T13:13:00.000-04:00

Iranian does sound an awful lot like uranium.

Journ-A-list[er]

2005-08-12T14:39:00.000-04:00

Peter Jennings' life and work has touched many hearts and minds, including this blogger's. Ever since I was young, I've watched him anchor ABC's World News Tonight. I remember my daily afternoon ritual as a grade-schooler - arriving home from school, practicing piano, completing whatever "homework" I had, playing, eating dinner, watching Peter Jennings at 6.30 p.m., doing more homework, and then going to bed. I did not understand everything he said, but I remember the comfort of seeing him on every night.

Upon hearing of Jennings' death on Sunday, I was deeply saddened and chose to reflect some before I wrote an entry in his memory. So, albeit belated, here's my humble tribute to his life and legacy.

I respect and admire Jennings first and foremost as a journalist who did not shy from reporting on tough issues. It was he who exposed the fact that American government knew about the concentration camps in Bosnia, but the US instructed officials to lie about such camps because our nation had no political interest in Eastern Europe. Apparently, the US didn't have the time or money to prevent something we and the UN vowed would never happen again - a genocide. Not just a genocide anywhere (not that this should matter at all, but note that we are currently allowing one to occur in Sudan), but in Europe, where just fifty years earlier, one had just taken place. The peacekeeping operation in Bosnia was one of the UN's biggest failures (although the oil-for-food program rivals a close second). It was Peter Jennings who conducted a crucial interview after which US and UN action regarding Bosnia changed dramatically.

It was also Jennings who courageously covered the Cambodia story in the 1980s when the US was supplying money and arms (although the US vehemently denied the latter) to the non-communist resistance, which in turn, supported and be-friended the Khmer Rouge, the communist group that attempted to resurface after killing approximately 1.7 million of their fellow citizens. Jennings led a show-stopping interview with a US official in which the interviewee made an EGREGIOUS Freudian slip by saying that the US was indeed giving lethal arms to the non-communists (which in turn were going to the Khmer Rouge). The official foolishly denied any relations between the resistance and the communists, and Jennings juxtaposed that false statement with a video of Cambodian members of both sides shaking hands and conversing with each other. After this interview, Congress passed a law that forbade any more money or aid to be sent to Cambodia.

Jennings was Canadian, and as much as he exposed the US's hypocrisy regarding foreign policy, he also fell in love with the nation that welcomed him into a job as a journalist and news anchor. He admired the beauty and the freedom of a country whose morals, ideals, and laws revolve around a document easy enough to read in under thirty minutes and small enough to fit in one's pocket. In 2003, Jennings secretly became a US citizen. He was so moved that he himself began carrying around a copy of the Constitution in his own back pocket.

Jennings was brave enough to tackle America's tobacco issue head-on. He himself was a smoker, but quit when he had children. Unfortunately, the ghosts of his past followed him, as he was diagnosed with lung cancer this spring and passed away too quickly under its dark shadow. Jennings' persistent reporting on the realities of smoking and the overt marketing toward underage users resulted in significant changes in tobacco regulations.

He was a humble man, a man known to walk into rooms and instead of rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous, would approach and strike up conversations with the most unassuming, least famous people. He launched a charter school in Newark, NJ and not only invested in the school monetarily, but took the time to talk to the students and invest in their lives as well. At a high school graduation for older Americans who returned to school, he volunteered to hand out diplomas, and he memorized each student's name and background to personalize a congratulatory word of encouragement for each graduate. A combination of his unpretentiousness and sense of humor, Jennings stored his fourteen emmys and countless other awards in his bathroom.

He was known to go into homeless shelters late at night and hand out food. He befriended everyone. In once instance, he assuaged a volatile Arabic citizen angered at him - the man viewed Jennings as an American journalist invading his country's turf. In response, Jennings approached the man, listened to him and asked for his thoughts on the future of the Middle East. By the end of their encounter, the man was happy he spoke to Jennings.

One of his greatest talents was taking the most personal stories of regular, common people, and using them to highlight greater issues ranging from poor political policy to domestic abuse. He often did this by interviewing and speaking with children or visiting villages and communities outside of the metropolis in which a major story took place. I purchased his book, In Search of America in 2003 and am amazed by its beauty and poignancy. This read is a road-trip through the back streets of the US that testifies to Jennings' ability to feel the pulse of a diverse nation through capturing vivid snapshots and stories of its common citizens.

He saw no place for the obnoxious obsession with celebrity cases (i.e. - O.J. Simpson, Michael Jackson) in World News Tonight. Not that he didn't view murder or child molestation as insignificant, but when stories like this take precedence over say, a potential nuclear war between India and Pakistan, he rightly saw the faults.

I remember Jennings during the falls of Berlin Wall and the Soviet Union. More recently, it was seeing and hearing him on 9/11 that provided stabilizing force on a day of mass confusion and destabilization.

I'm ever-grateful for his amazing influence on the world of journalism, and more importantly, for using his platform to better the world.

Thank you, Peter Jennings for your incredible impact on our global community. May your legacy live on.

Kidz Deez Daze

2005-08-11T17:59:00.000-04:00

Walking back from a piano lesson on Tuesday, 26 July, I passed by some kids ranging in age from 5-16 participating in a summer program on the same campus as my band camp.

I saw the little ones first and remembered how much I enjoy seeing kids whose parents dress them for camp as if they were taking on the Amazon. Some bore sunscreen streaks across their arms and legs and fashioned over-sized plastic sunglasses with fluorescent rims. More than a few were wearing those baseball hats with the long tails on them that: A - unashamedly resemble mullets, B - could also pass for middle-eastern head pieces, and C - quite possibly prevent the children's ears and neck regions from getting sunburned. I was hoping that some over-zealous mother had protected her child with elbow and knee pads, but unfortunately, no such luck.

As I approached the teenagers, I was utterly shocked at what my innocent eyes beheld: two of the rascals were kissing under a tree, and another couple were laying in the grass together and holding each other with intention - all out for the public to see in broad daylight! I was ready to call the teeni-boppers' parents right there and then. I wanted to run over to the little ones, face them in the opposite direction of the crude behavior, shield their innocent eyes from the fornicating teens, and frantically start reciting wholesome lines from children's books to them.

But I didn't. Instead, I observed and decided to blog about it.

Fizzle

2005-08-10T11:52:00.000-04:00

So, in the spirit of last Friday's Voice of the Whizzle posting, I thought I'd share a fun little story. The same day we performed Voice of the Whale, a woman from the Maine Humane Society came to band camp. With her were two cats in a large, beautiful crate. Excited beyond belief to behold animals that evoked memories of homes and lives outside of band camp, our trio quickly approached her and asked what the furry felines' names were. "Eric", she replied, pointing to a tabby cat, and "Fizzle", gesturing to a long-haired cat resembling the one in the picture above (although "Fizzle" is a bit bigger and has more grey spots).

"Um, did you say Fizzle?" I asked.

"Yeah, Fizzle", she said.

"Cool," I smiled. But I was really thinking "cizzle".

3D

2005-08-09T09:28:00.000-04:00

Last week at band camp, Sarah and I had to drop off a key we borrowed from another RA. We ventured into her building and climbed the steps to her floor. As we rounded the corner to her apartment, I looked to the right. I could not believe what I saw: it was apartment 3D.

Let's be honest, I was a bit tipsy, as we were just coming back from an RA dinner where they treated us to a round of beers. Perhaps, I enjoyed my blueberry wheat ale a bit too much because when I saw apartment 3D, I lost all control. I instinctively threw my hands up over my head and began to wildly convulse as if I were viewing an IMAX 3D show (or dancing in a bad [or good - depending on how you look at it] 80s video), all while simultaneously repeating "WHOAAAH" in rapid succession. Sarah spun around at the sounds of my strange behavior and started laughing rather loudly, which, of course, only encouraged me more. Suddenly, the door of 3D opened. A shy-looking girl stepped out in front of me, but it took me awhile to realize she was there. When I finally did, I stopped dead in my tracks.

"Heeeyyy", I grinned like the Cheshire Cat. "Sorry, I just thought it was cool because your apartment number is 3D...Get it?" I cocked my head.

She was kind and I'm sure was really trying to understand. Smiling with shifty eyes, she turned back into her apartment. So, what did I do? I started up again, of course, flailing my arms and jerking my body around. Sure enough, someone walked up the steps and saw me at my worst. It turns out that she was a friend visiting whoever was living in 3D.

I thought it was time to stop, so laughing in hysterics, Sarah and I dropped off the key and exited the building (not before doing another dance in front of 3D, though).

High Eight Us

2005-08-06T08:29:00.000-04:00

I'm moving and therefore might not be blogging for a few days...Enjoy the break while it lasts, and I'll Sophia-later. :)

Voice of the Whizzle

2005-08-05T11:04:00.000-04:00

Please note - if you don't have enough time to read this whole post, just make sure you scroll down to the asterisk.* Believe me, it's worth it (I think).

Sarah, Carrie, and I performed George Crumb's Vox Balaenae (Voice of the Whale) last night at band camp. It's scored for electric flute (Sarah), electric cello (Carrie), and electric piano (me) - electric meaning amplified. It was a fun experience as I have never played a piece that requires extended techniques (namely playing harmonics, sliding a chisel on the strings, strumming the strings while depressing keys silently, using a glass rod to produce some groovy archaic sounds, and pizzicato-ing the strings). The work is based off of the Crumb's recordings of humpback whales in the 1960s, and he set his findings to music in 1971. It's pretty amazing how much the piece evokes whales and marine life. The composer recommends a dark stage set-up with deep blue lightning, and the players are required to wear half masks (sort-of like Zorro). The black masks are meant to dehumanize the performers to denote the impersonal forces of nature. Carrie wanted to take it a step further and dress up like a narwhal with a large horn. Sarah and I both thought it was a brilliant idea, but unfortunately it never panned out. I used black face paint for my mask so I could have more peripheral vision to work inside the piano and to see Sarah and Carrie. Because I had to reach into the piano throughout the piece, I couldn't use the piano stand, and layed my score inside the instrument. With the extremely dim lighting, it was very difficult to actually see the music!

We made the decision to play the piece while on a Pirate Cruise at the end of June. A bunch of us RAs sailed this booze cruise in a nearby town's bay area. We actually missed the boat (literally), but we spotted the drunkards in the distance, and I was furtively spying on them with my pirate scope (which was really a paper towel roll with a skull drawn on in blue permanent marker). Admist all the utterance of maledictations and "Arrrr Matey"s, Carrie drew upon her pirate smarts, called the boat on her cell phone, and they swung back around to pick us up! The cruise was beautiful - we saw seals and bald eagles, and local townies waving from their docks. We were in a particularly aquatic mood, cross-dressed as pirates with facial hair and all, so playing Voice of the Whale together felt like the only natural progression.

We actually didn't get started on the piece until just two weeks ago though. What happens at band camp is that we get assigned chamber music when we get here, so we have just two days before our first coaching (which is always horrendous because no one knows the music yet). Even though we requested the Voice of the Whale, it didn't mean we were going to get to be coached by it, so I didn't start it until we received confirmation, just prior to our first coaching.

Our coach for this piece was Emma Tahmiziàn (see picture below; my friend Micah is all funny and likes to sing: "Emma Emma Emma Emma Emma Tahmiziàn" - like the Culture Club's "Karma karma karma karma karma chameleon"). Ms. Tahmiziàn is an incredible pianist and musician, but sometimes, sort of scary. During our coachings, she would suddenly begin flailing her arms and wail, "NOOOOOOOO" if she didn't like something. I was especially scared for my life when she couldn't meet with me to go over all the extended techniques before our first coaching. I was trying to figure them all out in just two days compounded with the load of other music I was concurrently learning...Yeah, that wasn't so fun. However, hard as she was on us, she also commended us when she deemed appropriate. I liked this because it made her compliments really meaningful. Her suggestions were also extremely helpful.

So, after just under two weeks with the score, we performed the piece last night, and it went pretty darn well! After the concert, I was looking for Ms. Tahmiziàn, and when I saw her walking toward me with her black and orange moo-moo flowing behind her, I suddenly grew sore afraid and instinctively hid behind the stairwell. When she saw me, she put her hand on her heart and said our performance was "so beautiful" and that she was "deeply moved". I then crept out from behind the stairs and acted all calm and cool.

*Okay, now for the fun part - so, as previously mentioned, the Voice of the Whale calls for me to slide a chisel on the strings to make whale sounds. So, my plan was to talk to Richard from stage crew and write him a note that said I needed a "chizzle" and that's no jizzle. Unfortunately, I didn't get to because he gave me the chisel before I got to him. Fizzle. The other funny part is that band camp hosted a whale watch trip. Due to limited space, not everyone got to go, so I was going to make signs that said, "So, you thought you missed the whale watch?...Um, well, you didn't - come see the Voice of the Whale."

Thursday Has Been Cancelled Due To Lack of Interest. Please Proceed Directly To Friday.

2005-08-04T07:56:00.000-04:00

This was one of my favorite away messages left by my friend Samus.

In the Red

2005-08-03T08:14:00.000-04:00

This posting has two connotations.

The first I will explore relates to traffic lights. Here in Maine, I've run as many red lights as I do greens, because the yellow lights are so darn short. I always think I can make it, but then as I'm turning or accelerating through the intersection, I make all sorts of unGodly noises with my tires and the all the locals stare at me with disapproving frowns and shake their heads. I shrug my shoulders as if to say, "Hey, I'm just an out-of-towner." But, it's really starting to get embarrassing.

I think the only logical solution is for the yellows to be just as long as the reds and greens. Then, just as the yellows were about to turn red, they could blink fantastically. Yeah, that would work. Perhaps not as many people would run reds. Or maybe I should just always stop when I come to traffic lights - whether they're green, yellow, or red. That way I'll be sure that I won't run any.

The second meaning of my title revolves around the fact that I really don't have any money right now...

A Witty Saying Proves Nothing. | Voltaire

2005-08-02T08:44:00.000-04:00

Yeah, so Voltaire pretty much denounced my whole blog since I attempt to integrate wit, cleverness, and humor into my entries.

Ich Bin Ein Ber[mix]er

2005-08-01T09:12:00.000-04:00

The other day, I was playing Rufus Wainright's Instant Pleasure from a website, and then as it was dying out totally started up The Roots' Don't Say Nothin' on Windows Media Player. They faded into each other so beautifully that for a minute, I thought I was a DJ. Or Mademoiselle Mix-A-Lot.

Did July About Not Celebrating the Fourth?

2005-07-31T09:28:00.000-04:00

Here at band camp, we proudly host students from all over the world. There's some British faculty who teach here, and they cross the pond with several students from the great Isle every summer. The British students are often really awesome and exited to be in the States, as it is sort of a "holiday" for them. They are very balanced - knowing just how to have lots of fun, while at the same time, practicing their music diligently.

One such British student was a girl who came for the first session was a bit disgruntled at the fourth of July activities being hosted in the area's local towns. Band camp arranged for buses to shuttle everyone to the events, namely to a fair with fireworks in the evening. When Sheila, the British student's RA, asked her if she'd be going out with everyone, she said no. Sheila asked why, and the girl replied with a clever, outlandishly funny, and witty response: "I won't be celebrating the fourth of July with you because my country actually lost that war."

The whole irony of the situation is that the British camper ended up going to see the fireworks anyway! I'm not sure if she decided at the last minute because all her friends were taking the plunge, or what.

Either way, the girl told a tall tale about not celebrating. She was kidding about not going. Lying even. Julying.

Canin In Any Key

2005-07-30T09:09:00.000-04:00

So, it turns out that Martin Canin is one of the most amazing pedagogues and pianists I've ever met. There is something about him that is so honest and pure. Sort of like he loves music for all the right reasons - because it communicates light and life to those who listen to it and play it. He shares his love for music not necessarily by talking about it, but by the way he teaches and interacts. I've had the opportunity to study with him this summer, and my last lesson was just yesterday.

During my time with him, I played Bach, Beethoven, and Chopin. After playing my pieces, he was always complimentary, like a nurturing musical grandfather. Not complimentary to the point of overkill, but just enough to spark my desire to learn and to restore my faith in music, or in anything good, really. The suggestions he made were not just helpful, but they fixed a myriad of weaknesses simultaneously, sort of like feeding many birds with one hand. He often spoke about fingering (for musical purposes), rhythm, and tempo (at Juilliard, they call him "Dr. Beat"!). His advice truly remedied things I never knew it could.

He's really funny, too. At one point, he suggested a different fingering, and he turned to me and said, "You know, you could either work too hard at the fingering they give you here, or you could just use 1-2-3"...It's always easier that way."

"Hmm", I smiled. "I could get used to that! Maybe then, I'd only have to play with these fingers", and I waved my first three phalanges. We had a good laugh.

Just yesterday, he told me that a different edition of the Bach piece I'm playing has an A-flat in the bass as opposed to the G in my score. "I'm going to write it in there and then I'll even sign it", he said. So, in my score he wrote, "A-flat is better", and then he signed it "J.S.B." (J.S. Bach)! Again, we had another good laugh.

We talked about the pros and cons of new music, visual arts, and even the misbehaved kids at band camp. The whole time he imbued honesty and life into everything he spoke about. He plays beautifully too. I heard him perform the Dvořák Piano Quartet, and he infuses a lovely simplicity into the music that is so rare to come across.

What a special, special man. You rock, Mr. Canin.