Living in the ruins of a castle built on sand
Perpetual: everlasting.
I am finally proud to know the actual definition of that word.
"Three more psychiatric patients escape..." what a wonderful neighborhood we live in!
Met Ashley and Ryan today at the mall in Hot Topic. It was surreal.
Four days remain. And then seven. And seven more. And so on, because I will count down to every Wednesday morning.
It's gotten to the point where my last name is the subject of a radio contest. "Hey, can you pronounce Katia's last name? It's spelled T-Y-M-O-F-Y-E-Y-E-V-A. Call in and tell me how you pronounce that and you win three requests." I am not joking.
Maybe I've recovered enough from the trauma of last year to start writing again. Maybe that's a bad thing, because maybe I'm really a terrible writer. In fact, that's most probable.
By two weeks from now I'm supposed to bring up two pieces (one of which consists of three parts) and two Inventions up to performance quality. I'm very doubtful, but then again, maybe it's the fact that she expects so much from me that makes me work so much more productively. To be perfectly honest, I don't expect all that from myself and I guess I need someone around to do that. But maybe this is a bad thing, because maybe my playing is really worthless and all those expectations are making me think that it isn't. Maybe teachers are simply required to have trust even in the most hopeless of students.
Can one live with no confidence at all? I think it may be possible.
Cheers, Reader. I promise, I'm not really depressed.
~Katia
PS to all former French students: Remember "Les Champs-Elysees?" WTSR played a rock version of the song the last time I was there. I couldn't believe my ears. I love them. But that is for another entry.
I am finally proud to know the actual definition of that word.
"Three more psychiatric patients escape..." what a wonderful neighborhood we live in!
Met Ashley and Ryan today at the mall in Hot Topic. It was surreal.
Four days remain. And then seven. And seven more. And so on, because I will count down to every Wednesday morning.
It's gotten to the point where my last name is the subject of a radio contest. "Hey, can you pronounce Katia's last name? It's spelled T-Y-M-O-F-Y-E-Y-E-V-A. Call in and tell me how you pronounce that and you win three requests." I am not joking.
Maybe I've recovered enough from the trauma of last year to start writing again. Maybe that's a bad thing, because maybe I'm really a terrible writer. In fact, that's most probable.
By two weeks from now I'm supposed to bring up two pieces (one of which consists of three parts) and two Inventions up to performance quality. I'm very doubtful, but then again, maybe it's the fact that she expects so much from me that makes me work so much more productively. To be perfectly honest, I don't expect all that from myself and I guess I need someone around to do that. But maybe this is a bad thing, because maybe my playing is really worthless and all those expectations are making me think that it isn't. Maybe teachers are simply required to have trust even in the most hopeless of students.
Can one live with no confidence at all? I think it may be possible.
Cheers, Reader. I promise, I'm not really depressed.
~Katia
PS to all former French students: Remember "Les Champs-Elysees?" WTSR played a rock version of the song the last time I was there. I couldn't believe my ears. I love them. But that is for another entry.