P word
Junior year of HS, Ellen and I came up with some dreaded P words: Paper, project, presentation, portfolio, and the worst of... Procrastination. We weren't allowed to mention any of these words for about a week and a half, I think. Well, I'm currently involved with multiple P words, and in order to get on with them, I need to indulge that last, terrible P word.
I'm sitting in the library trying to muster enough... intelligence? work ethic? courage? to finish (aka write most of) my paper for my film class. Some thoughts:
I glanced a book shelf near me and my gaze fell on The Life of Richard Steele. There were multiple books on this person. I thought to myself, "A sign!" Perhaps I'm meant to read these books. Or perhaps I'm destined for great things, like this Rick fellow. Or perhaps, a Richard Steele will die and bequeath me a great fortune. The possibilities were endless. Looking for more clues in the book titles, I glanced 2 shelves down and immediately locked on The Works of Sir Suckling.
Morale of the story: invest nothing in supposed messages from bookshelves.
But. Speaking of signs, the ad when I signed onto LJ? "Quality Euphoniums."
More of the story: LJ knows too much about me.
For posterity sake, here's a brief update on non-library portions of my life and/or comments that seem to hold relevance in my life atm:
I'll be here all summer, working at Weis. Which is all I do right now, so really, it won't be much different.
Boys complicate things beyond worth. Celibacy seems like a terrific idea.
I lack the ability to do work ahead of time.
Music Ed is a tough major just because of the decision we all had made going into this to devoting our lives to something that not everyone appreciates.
I have a PA license, and I miss NJ.
I'm not eating meat, for the most part. I just had a tuna sandwhich. I figured I'd need the protein for the late night ahead of me. I don't miss it much any more. The breaking point is definitely going to be Indian food. If I can resist chicken tikka masala, I'll be able to resist anything.
I'm terribly excited about going to Disney this summer. I haven't been in years, but more importantly this time, I get to go with my nieces and nephew. Marshall is going to have a blast, and I'm so excited to be there with him.
Freud was a ridiculous man. In light of possible celibacy, I sincerely hope he was wrong on the "sex is absolutely everything" part of his theory.
Hitchcock was a ridiculous man. His movies are creepy when you taken into account the combined ridiculousness of both Freud and Hitchcock.
Barry Hannigan is a ridiculous man, but completely unrelated to either Freud or Hitchcock. I fall more in love with him every class. We could make beautiful nonfunctional harmonies together. We could make tone rows late into the night. We might even leave our dissonances unresolved, and not care what people think. Too bad our love is doomed (see note on celibacy).
The clarinet was a terrible idea. It makes my head hurt. Brass is better.
The trombone was a terrible idea. Glissandos do not make the lack of valves worth it. Euphonium is better.
I really like the piano.
This paper is due in less than 24 hours. I think its time it got written.
I'm sitting in the library trying to muster enough... intelligence? work ethic? courage? to finish (aka write most of) my paper for my film class. Some thoughts:
I glanced a book shelf near me and my gaze fell on The Life of Richard Steele. There were multiple books on this person. I thought to myself, "A sign!" Perhaps I'm meant to read these books. Or perhaps I'm destined for great things, like this Rick fellow. Or perhaps, a Richard Steele will die and bequeath me a great fortune. The possibilities were endless. Looking for more clues in the book titles, I glanced 2 shelves down and immediately locked on The Works of Sir Suckling.
Morale of the story: invest nothing in supposed messages from bookshelves.
But. Speaking of signs, the ad when I signed onto LJ? "Quality Euphoniums."
More of the story: LJ knows too much about me.
For posterity sake, here's a brief update on non-library portions of my life and/or comments that seem to hold relevance in my life atm:
I'll be here all summer, working at Weis. Which is all I do right now, so really, it won't be much different.
Boys complicate things beyond worth. Celibacy seems like a terrific idea.
I lack the ability to do work ahead of time.
Music Ed is a tough major just because of the decision we all had made going into this to devoting our lives to something that not everyone appreciates.
I have a PA license, and I miss NJ.
I'm not eating meat, for the most part. I just had a tuna sandwhich. I figured I'd need the protein for the late night ahead of me. I don't miss it much any more. The breaking point is definitely going to be Indian food. If I can resist chicken tikka masala, I'll be able to resist anything.
I'm terribly excited about going to Disney this summer. I haven't been in years, but more importantly this time, I get to go with my nieces and nephew. Marshall is going to have a blast, and I'm so excited to be there with him.
Freud was a ridiculous man. In light of possible celibacy, I sincerely hope he was wrong on the "sex is absolutely everything" part of his theory.
Hitchcock was a ridiculous man. His movies are creepy when you taken into account the combined ridiculousness of both Freud and Hitchcock.
Barry Hannigan is a ridiculous man, but completely unrelated to either Freud or Hitchcock. I fall more in love with him every class. We could make beautiful nonfunctional harmonies together. We could make tone rows late into the night. We might even leave our dissonances unresolved, and not care what people think. Too bad our love is doomed (see note on celibacy).
The clarinet was a terrible idea. It makes my head hurt. Brass is better.
The trombone was a terrible idea. Glissandos do not make the lack of valves worth it. Euphonium is better.
I really like the piano.
This paper is due in less than 24 hours. I think its time it got written.