Before I Begin: I've spent the better part of the last six weeks not in Cedar City. Also, I have spent the better part of the last ten minutes attempting to disarm the smoke alarm in my roommate's room. It wouldn't stop chirping. I was freaking out...
Oh, and this is obviously not a China Trip Blog - but I still have one more blog about that trip. Just not in the mood to elaborate on that particular thing tonight.
Note: I got this idea when I was driving back up here from Barstow. I had stopped listening to the radio and it was silent in my car from the north side of the Virgin River Gorge and I was tired, and slightly cranky from driving. And hot because my AC doesn't work. I mean everything in this letter, but it actually doesn't bother me after I arrive in my apartment and get on with life. At least... the more important things in life. But I thought it could be a very entertaining blog - to document some of my RIDICULOUS thoughts on the way up late Sunday night. :)
Dear Cedar City,
First of all, in all my drives back and forth between here and Barstow I have yet to not lose my patience between St. George and here. I've never been able to go up those steeper inclines on my cruise control - and I freaking hate when I lose momentum and then have to manually control my speed while climbing. Because I suck at it, and I'm so ready to be done by this point. But Sunday night I thought I could make it -- but there was road construction. Really? That very well may have been my last drive up here for ANYTHING. Ever. Ever think about that, Cedar, huh? Maybe you should collaborate with St. George and think about fixing this problem. Like ban all the really old people from driving post road construction...
Also, this is the only city I've ever driven in where the streets are so smooth. I actually really love that about you, Cedar - your streets are always in great condition. But, you see... those things that the Ninja Turtles climb out of and use as a sewage traveling are every block right where my left tires are usually aligned. Because, you see, there're cars parked along the curb, and so I can't exactly get much closer to them to avoid these sewage things. And then if I swerved the other way I'd be facing oncoming traffic. So I'm left with no choice than to let my left tires endure constant bumps - so my question is: why is the street so much higher than those stupid lids that cover whatever it is that they cover? And why can't they be in the dead center of the street? Where no one will hit them on a consistent basis...
Oh! And why does Hamilton Fort completely psych me out into thinking it's Cedar? And one of those mile markers is WRONG! I don't care what anyone says.
Why are you called a Mountain-Desert? It only confuses the citizens of this very beautiful city. It tricks the natives into thinking you are actually more of a desert, than a mountain. You are not a desert. At least not just a desert. Let's be honest here, Cedar, you get water throughout the summer (not often, but throughout) and you snow. You also have... greenery. Beautiful red soil, unforgettable sunsets, gorgeous thunder storms, and GREENERY. Have you met my dear old friend, Barstow? Let people see the whole you. Your "Mountain" side, if you will. It's sexier...
You are the home, Cedar, of the off-ramp that gives me vertigo every time. Every. Single. Time. You should be proud, because I usually stop in Mesquite and then have to deal with the insane hairpin turn of an on-ramp -- but I don't experience the wonderful feeling of vertigo until I get off at your first exit. Then I can't seem to manage to "feel" the 45 mph speed limit for those precious blocks on Main Street. Which reminds me, you really need to take a look at why your speed limits are what they are....
I appreciate your clean air and blue skies, Cedar. I spent three weeks away from you and missed you terribly. But unfortunately when I'm here again, I want to be gone again. Do you know why that is Cedar? I bet you do. Take a look at the people who are here, and the people who are not. Thank you for keeping so many people I love employed, schooled, and otherwise stuck here in the little city that is so charmingly Cedar. However, I can't help but want you to be something you're just not. It's not you... it's me...
Along with the people, I appreciate the University here, and the professor's I was so lucky to work with. I do... deep down, truly love you, Cedar. But I'm kind of coming to the end of my rope. But will always look back at my time spent getting to know you very fondly. I've grown up in so many ways because of the opportunities you have afforded me. Location can be everything. And I have, overall, loved being here.
But I thought I was going to die the other night when I was driving and couldn't see the lines defining the lanes at times. You could adopt the idea of bot-dots from Vegas that glow when my lights shine on them and let me know that I am, indeed, not going to die because I'm in a lane. Also -- I can't find a radio station that plays Rock Music - just like a million that play Country. This... is a problem.
But I love you. Despite the things that drive me crazy when I drive here...
Love, Katy
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Food and French Kissing (China Trip Part 3)
I've always been a fan of card games, and food. They usually go together, but in this trip it was more like we played cards probably as a sense of normalcy, and a reason to stay in air conditioned facilities.
We were fed in the same compound as we went to rehearse. By the time we got there the dancers had already set up some sort of routine with the really sweet and nice Chinese ladies who cooked two meals a day for us (lunch and dinner). Among my favorites were the Shrimp and Broccoli, any type of bread (lol), the fruit, and honestly, I couldn't even make up names for some of the dishes I really liked but wasn't really sure what was in it. Most of the food that was brought to us was delicious.
Chopsticks.
Never again will I go three weeks where I use chopsticks at almost every meal. I got it down-ish, eventually! The food over there almost needs to be eaten with chopsticks... haha
We did have breakfast at a different place than lunch and dinner: The Hotel.
The last time I went out of the country, was to Australia, and I remember relying on the fact that they would serve toast at breakfast almost anywhere we went. I don't have toast in the States very often - I have Cereal for breakfast.... but I love toast out of the country.
And in the Hotel, we were served a boiled egg, corn, yogurt, hot water, sausages and two pieces of toast every morning... mostly. I liked it all but never was in the mood for corn that early in the morning...
But I did like to take people's toast. But sometimes I had the guts to ask for more. However, no matter how much I pantomimed or pointed... I was very rarely successful in asking for more. It was kind of depressing.
Oh, and orange spread... disgusting. :P
And, I don't think this will surprise anyone, Mike lasted until just a little bit after this trip (a little more than halfway through the stay) before he wanted salt, sugar and soda.
I must've learned like seven card games I didn't know previously when I was there. Joe knows a lot of card games, let me tell you.
My favorites were playing Phase 10 with Dr. Bradshaw because he got probably one of his first glimpses at my ridiculously competitive card playing side. I find great enjoyment in "going out" when hardly anyone has phased :).
We (as in mostly me, Lydia, Joe and Mike) played Hearts, Five Crowns, Rummy, Lucky Unders, and Rich Man Poor Man (some people call it "Scum"). There was a point in the trip, however, where we played with Heather and Tashina a little bit more often. I don't think either of them like cards that much...
BUT - we were playing Rich Man Poor Man and Lydia was trying to help out and would shuffle the cards that were no longer being used to play. I don't know how many rounds we went before we all realized that Tashina was passing just to pass. So one of us asked why she wasn't participating and she says....
"Lydia shuffled my HAND!"
I guess she couldn't play after her hand was shuffled away... :)
Not to mention that I couldn't get Joe out of Lydia's and my room sometimes. It'd be close to midnight, and we were all a bit jet lagged and Joe turns to me and asks "Am I a truck?" and just... starts... cracking up!
Apparently that question is only funny when you get to a certain point of exhaustion. Which Joe obviously was.
Alright before I go on I must mention that I roomed with Lydia. We had a good time. But like... the third night or something like that I apparently was sleep talking... asking her if she was okay, and then mumbling about being in China and getting killed or hurt or something.
I have no recollection of this. Obviously. Because I was sleep talking.
And Joe roomed with Mike - who kept him up with his snoring. Poor guy...
One of our favorite games by the end of the trip was Lucky Unders... which we had nicknames for mostly every part of that game:
Normal - Us
Unders - Panties
Overs - Bras
Hand - Hand (okay yeah we couldn't think of something stupid here hahaha)
Lucky Unders - Dirty Underwear
And when we dealt it was always an adventure...
We also played Rich Man Poor Man as a group of six including: Me, Joe, Lydia, Dr Bradshaw, Dr. Vartan and Mike.
Dr. V is insanely good at this game and there was ONE TIME... when I was sitting Queen under her as the King, and I had three of the four Jokers. I had played one already... and then decided to take control of the round and took like two Aces or something away from her and totally threw off her entire game play. She was stuck with like... one three or something like that. I'll never forget being told MULTIPLE times by Dr. V that she would never forget when I played my two Jokers and totally screwed her up... LOL
The conversation during the card games were also hilarious. One night stands out to me in particular because we were in the Hunan Province and I succumbed to staying up till 3am so that Joe could bother me to his heart's content....
We played through most of our card games and the subject found it's way to French Kissing and how Mike has yet to do it, and (since I kind of forgot what Joe's take on it was hahaha, I think he mostly talked about how he married Britania) I didn't understand how Lydia doesn't like it because I do!!
We all bonded that night. It was good because we weren't prying. Prying is irritating...
Just as a closer - there was a point when Lydia was trying to teach Heather Patty Cake which I found hilarious!
And the morning we were getting ready to leave for the airport to go home, Lydia had a conversation that went a little like this...
Katy: "Ugh, I won't miss this lighting..."
Lydia: "Yeah... florescent coming downward..."
Katy: "Yeah... coming from the topward?"
Topward?!
We were fed in the same compound as we went to rehearse. By the time we got there the dancers had already set up some sort of routine with the really sweet and nice Chinese ladies who cooked two meals a day for us (lunch and dinner). Among my favorites were the Shrimp and Broccoli, any type of bread (lol), the fruit, and honestly, I couldn't even make up names for some of the dishes I really liked but wasn't really sure what was in it. Most of the food that was brought to us was delicious.
Chopsticks.
Never again will I go three weeks where I use chopsticks at almost every meal. I got it down-ish, eventually! The food over there almost needs to be eaten with chopsticks... haha
We did have breakfast at a different place than lunch and dinner: The Hotel.
The last time I went out of the country, was to Australia, and I remember relying on the fact that they would serve toast at breakfast almost anywhere we went. I don't have toast in the States very often - I have Cereal for breakfast.... but I love toast out of the country.
And in the Hotel, we were served a boiled egg, corn, yogurt, hot water, sausages and two pieces of toast every morning... mostly. I liked it all but never was in the mood for corn that early in the morning...
But I did like to take people's toast. But sometimes I had the guts to ask for more. However, no matter how much I pantomimed or pointed... I was very rarely successful in asking for more. It was kind of depressing.
Oh, and orange spread... disgusting. :P
The most interesting experience, at least as far as food goes, was when the musicians all went to the Hunan Province and were treated to two very amazing meals of ... I couldn't really tell you. I do know that among what is on the table in the next picture is at least two parts of the duck I would never even think to make into food. Mike and I had a bit of hard time. I was trying mostly everything. My eyes were watering, I probably looked flushed. And I very rarely went back for seconds on anything. BUT - I could tell these things were acquired tastes... and then you love them, you know? Really good Chinese food!
I must've learned like seven card games I didn't know previously when I was there. Joe knows a lot of card games, let me tell you.
My favorites were playing Phase 10 with Dr. Bradshaw because he got probably one of his first glimpses at my ridiculously competitive card playing side. I find great enjoyment in "going out" when hardly anyone has phased :).
We (as in mostly me, Lydia, Joe and Mike) played Hearts, Five Crowns, Rummy, Lucky Unders, and Rich Man Poor Man (some people call it "Scum"). There was a point in the trip, however, where we played with Heather and Tashina a little bit more often. I don't think either of them like cards that much...
BUT - we were playing Rich Man Poor Man and Lydia was trying to help out and would shuffle the cards that were no longer being used to play. I don't know how many rounds we went before we all realized that Tashina was passing just to pass. So one of us asked why she wasn't participating and she says....
"Lydia shuffled my HAND!"
I guess she couldn't play after her hand was shuffled away... :)
Not to mention that I couldn't get Joe out of Lydia's and my room sometimes. It'd be close to midnight, and we were all a bit jet lagged and Joe turns to me and asks "Am I a truck?" and just... starts... cracking up!
Apparently that question is only funny when you get to a certain point of exhaustion. Which Joe obviously was.
Alright before I go on I must mention that I roomed with Lydia. We had a good time. But like... the third night or something like that I apparently was sleep talking... asking her if she was okay, and then mumbling about being in China and getting killed or hurt or something.
I have no recollection of this. Obviously. Because I was sleep talking.
And Joe roomed with Mike - who kept him up with his snoring. Poor guy...
One of our favorite games by the end of the trip was Lucky Unders... which we had nicknames for mostly every part of that game:
Normal - Us
Unders - Panties
Overs - Bras
Hand - Hand (okay yeah we couldn't think of something stupid here hahaha)
Lucky Unders - Dirty Underwear
And when we dealt it was always an adventure...
We also played Rich Man Poor Man as a group of six including: Me, Joe, Lydia, Dr Bradshaw, Dr. Vartan and Mike.
Dr. V is insanely good at this game and there was ONE TIME... when I was sitting Queen under her as the King, and I had three of the four Jokers. I had played one already... and then decided to take control of the round and took like two Aces or something away from her and totally threw off her entire game play. She was stuck with like... one three or something like that. I'll never forget being told MULTIPLE times by Dr. V that she would never forget when I played my two Jokers and totally screwed her up... LOL
The conversation during the card games were also hilarious. One night stands out to me in particular because we were in the Hunan Province and I succumbed to staying up till 3am so that Joe could bother me to his heart's content....
We played through most of our card games and the subject found it's way to French Kissing and how Mike has yet to do it, and (since I kind of forgot what Joe's take on it was hahaha, I think he mostly talked about how he married Britania) I didn't understand how Lydia doesn't like it because I do!!
We all bonded that night. It was good because we weren't prying. Prying is irritating...
Just as a closer - there was a point when Lydia was trying to teach Heather Patty Cake which I found hilarious!
And the morning we were getting ready to leave for the airport to go home, Lydia had a conversation that went a little like this...
Katy: "Ugh, I won't miss this lighting..."
Lydia: "Yeah... florescent coming downward..."
Katy: "Yeah... coming from the topward?"
Topward?!
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Under Hot Conditions (China Part Two)
Before I begin I have one question: How DEAD do I look in this picture?
I title this picture: "Jet Lag"
(Look how blood shot my eyes are... oye)
I usually -- don't look that... strung out in the morning. Oh, but this was taken at like 4pm this afternoon. It's sexy...
Anyway - so I have many a story about the whole musical aspect of the trip to China to share with all of you :)
Overall I thought the production went really really well. For those of you who don't know - we put on a Musical Drama with the Hubei Dance and Orchestra Company. It's titled, "The Dream of Helen" and is about Helen Foster Snow's compassion toward the Chinese people in the earlier part of the 1900s.
When we arrived it wasn't long before we started rehearsing with the dancers. Like day three. And we were set up really oddly in the pit in the theatre. So instead of the brass on the side with the percussion, it was the woodwinds. So essentially -- I had the piccolo player, and Dr. Vartan on Timpani in the same ear and in the space less than three feet away from me. It was loud - especially with the composer (Lou) wanted us to play "A-thousand forte." I've never, in my life, been asked so many times... to play louder. Ever.
To make it even more... traumatizing (?), Dr. Vartan has this particular part toward the very very end of the production where she hits these two eighth notes at the end of the measure... for a while. It's super catchy, but super loud. It was rather jolting. And the Piccolo has these obscenely high trills (like sounding two octaves over anything else that is going on) during the nightmare part of the end of the show and... that was always so wonderful to hear. It's okay though -- I laughed on this inside because she did a really good job and I feel her pain.
We moved to the really nice theatre for a dress/tech rehearsal on the Friday and Saturday before we left to come back to the States. There's something about the people of Wuhan you need to understand. It's hot and humid. To me, almost unbearably so. And they won't turn the AC on until it's time to rehearse. So, if you're like Tashina, Heather and myself and want to run through some fast passages BEFORE rehearsal -- you're going to sweat half your body weight off...
But my ultimate point is that when you've got a full orchestra in a pit and don't turn the AC on before we all cram in there... we're NEVER going to feel the air. Ever. We're just going to sweat, and blow hot air through the woodwinds and brass and then we're going to start stinking and we're going to be pissed off and we're not going to play our best. Poor brass guys and having to find partials... I was slipping on my instrument...
I've decided to get all my more depressing stories out of the way before I talk about the funny ones. The principle violist. Was a guy. And he had a really beautiful solo in one of the parts, but the composer decided to change it to a Cello solo -- for volume, richness of sound, whatever. And, something about that killed me!
There's something about his face, and his mannerism that caught me off guard a bit. He was so quiet, and he wasn't fidgety, but I could tell when he was uncomfortable because he would sort of play with his hands, or with his bow. And I would just want to cry -- and here's the weird part. He's a grown man, and he's probably just quiet and just going with the flow. This is the way the world works right? But he looked... so sad. It killed me...
And I'm just going to say this quickly - due to intense heat and another performance looming merely hours later -- we totally screwed up big time like three or four times during the Matinee performance the fourth day we were performing...
Sweat. We were like 60 sardines.
Oh -- not to mention the Stairs of Doom
One of the highlights, for me, was getting the opportunity to play the Native American Flute part on the Funeral March part of the production. I guess Helen's body guard dies, and the whole scene is just the N.A. Flute and Helen dancing and stuff like that. To keep with the symbolism of sharing our cultures, Lydia got to play a few parts on these flutes but I only played this particular one. It's sad, and depressing. It sighs but it's beautiful, too. I felt like I was milking it for all it's worth and I want to thank the other musicians from SUU who went too for their support and their compliments. I always looked forward to playing that.
On a funnier note, the Flute had to get passed from Lydia to myself in a matter of a few minutes. It went through about seven people before it would get to me and the person who handed it to me was always the first oboe player. He has a really good sense of humor. One night, he tried to hand me his oboe instead. I laughed, because I think it's very clever and funny. However, part of me panicked like "Um... give me the flute. Now."
Because I'm sort of intense like that.
And there was a night where it ended up in the Low Brass section to get passed... and they wanted to keep it. Go figure. The BRASS PEOPLE messing with me! Even in China!
There was also this one part - where the Cello's totally grooved out to their part, which was just the beat. They drove the melody and other things that were going on right there. I think it was just accented, short, quarter notes. But ... haha... they loved every single second of it!!!! It was fun to watch....
One of my favorite quotes of the trip:
"Piccolos happen." - Mike
Saturday, July 30, 2011
I Dug My Hole to China (China Trip Part 1)
So, while I was in China I had this thought a few times... remembering being a little girl and the saying about digging your way to China. Especially at the beach when I used to dig a hole that miraculously filled with water...
Anyway - I went to China. Flew there... didn't tunnel there.
But before I talk about our traveling experiences I would like to just give a huge shout out to Dr. Lynn Vartan. She was amazing to travel with and helped make an otherwise all around irritating experience very fun.
Flying to China is no small feat. By the way. Especially when there's a group of 6 - 7 people together and we all have various instruments to handle and keep an eye on. But traveling in a group of 6-7 musicians has the potential to be very uniquely entertaining.
For example...
We all had to meet in St. George at like 10:00am on July 8th to take the shuttle down to the Las Vegas airport. From what I remember that's not all that entertaining. We were all very excited - Mike hadn't slept the previous night. I was a little on edge about a few personal things, but all in all -- calm.
But Dr. Vartan definitely let us know that we were going to be arriving in Las Vegas airport like four hours before our flight to LA took off and we probably wouldn't be able to check in.
... and she was correct.
We haul our stuff into the check-in line where there is this lady who's directing the people in the line... probably to prevent stupidness and get people through as fast as possible. Dr. Vartan let her know that our flight wasn't taking off for a while and then the strangest thing happened.
We were corralled for twenty minutes. We were directed out of line, but ended up enclosed in this box of those ropes they use to shape the lines -- you know what I mean? I wish I knew what those were called...
We got a big kick out of that - especially because Joe started calling Dr. Vartan "Mother Hen" by that point. We were also all being sheep and a few sheep sounds escaped from some of us at that time.
Anyway - we get through the check in very seamlessly. Then we went through security... twice. We wanted good food - which was in a different terminal. That was interesting.
We also devised a system of Points.
Point 1: Everyone arriving in St. George
Point 2: Arriving at our gate in Las Vegas
Point 3.1: Getting our luggage in LAX
3.2: Meeting up with Tashina at LAX
3.3: Checking into China Southern at LAX
3.4: Finding our gate in LAX
Point 4.1: Go through some sort of passport check/immigration in Guangzhou
4.2: Check in our luggage
4.3: Get through security
4.4: Find our gate
Point 5: Getting picked up in Wuhan
Those might not exactly be the point system we used at the time - but they work! The points are basically a count down until Dr. V was no longer responsible for us.
"They're here! They're alive! I'm done!"
"One, two, three, four, five, six!" (before meeting up with Tashina)
"One, two, three, four, five, six... and Tashina" (after meeting up with Tashina)
But I can't forget about our experience in Guangzhou. We got off the international flight pretty quickly and we have to re-check-in our luggage. It's hard to remember exactly why, because the tags were already on them to go to Wuhan, but we had to pick them up and take them somewhere else.
Anyway, we're going with the flow with our luggage and we find the lines to give them our luggage. And everyone is a mob in the middle of the room and we're about to join them when Joe says, "Hey... nobody's in that line," and points to what seems to be the correctly labelled line. So we stand in it.
And end up making quite a few people pretty upset. I'll leave it at that.
Then we head to security. And all of the sudden... people start "merging." This didn't make a whole lot of sense to us until we drove in China. But in order to get through security without being "cut" like a million times, we had a formation. And we had to be quiet. And not laugh. And it was all very serious...
We had instruments to arm us... so it was okay.
And eventually Dr. V's responsibilities ended (at least until the trip back) and we were picked up in Wuhan and driven to the Logosun Hotel.
I have one question: How do the Chinese drive like that and why didn't I see any accidents during my entire stay there?
Anyway - I went to China. Flew there... didn't tunnel there.
But before I talk about our traveling experiences I would like to just give a huge shout out to Dr. Lynn Vartan. She was amazing to travel with and helped make an otherwise all around irritating experience very fun.
Flying to China is no small feat. By the way. Especially when there's a group of 6 - 7 people together and we all have various instruments to handle and keep an eye on. But traveling in a group of 6-7 musicians has the potential to be very uniquely entertaining.
For example...
We all had to meet in St. George at like 10:00am on July 8th to take the shuttle down to the Las Vegas airport. From what I remember that's not all that entertaining. We were all very excited - Mike hadn't slept the previous night. I was a little on edge about a few personal things, but all in all -- calm.
But Dr. Vartan definitely let us know that we were going to be arriving in Las Vegas airport like four hours before our flight to LA took off and we probably wouldn't be able to check in.
... and she was correct.
We haul our stuff into the check-in line where there is this lady who's directing the people in the line... probably to prevent stupidness and get people through as fast as possible. Dr. Vartan let her know that our flight wasn't taking off for a while and then the strangest thing happened.
We were corralled for twenty minutes. We were directed out of line, but ended up enclosed in this box of those ropes they use to shape the lines -- you know what I mean? I wish I knew what those were called...
We got a big kick out of that - especially because Joe started calling Dr. Vartan "Mother Hen" by that point. We were also all being sheep and a few sheep sounds escaped from some of us at that time.
Anyway - we get through the check in very seamlessly. Then we went through security... twice. We wanted good food - which was in a different terminal. That was interesting.
We also devised a system of Points.
Point 1: Everyone arriving in St. George
Point 2: Arriving at our gate in Las Vegas
Point 3.1: Getting our luggage in LAX
3.2: Meeting up with Tashina at LAX
3.3: Checking into China Southern at LAX
3.4: Finding our gate in LAX
Point 4.1: Go through some sort of passport check/immigration in Guangzhou
4.2: Check in our luggage
4.3: Get through security
4.4: Find our gate
Point 5: Getting picked up in Wuhan
Those might not exactly be the point system we used at the time - but they work! The points are basically a count down until Dr. V was no longer responsible for us.
"They're here! They're alive! I'm done!"
"One, two, three, four, five, six!" (before meeting up with Tashina)
"One, two, three, four, five, six... and Tashina" (after meeting up with Tashina)
But I can't forget about our experience in Guangzhou. We got off the international flight pretty quickly and we have to re-check-in our luggage. It's hard to remember exactly why, because the tags were already on them to go to Wuhan, but we had to pick them up and take them somewhere else.
Anyway, we're going with the flow with our luggage and we find the lines to give them our luggage. And everyone is a mob in the middle of the room and we're about to join them when Joe says, "Hey... nobody's in that line," and points to what seems to be the correctly labelled line. So we stand in it.
And end up making quite a few people pretty upset. I'll leave it at that.
Then we head to security. And all of the sudden... people start "merging." This didn't make a whole lot of sense to us until we drove in China. But in order to get through security without being "cut" like a million times, we had a formation. And we had to be quiet. And not laugh. And it was all very serious...
We had instruments to arm us... so it was okay.
And eventually Dr. V's responsibilities ended (at least until the trip back) and we were picked up in Wuhan and driven to the Logosun Hotel.
I have one question: How do the Chinese drive like that and why didn't I see any accidents during my entire stay there?
Now to talk about the trip back:
"Do you know how many points are between now and Vegas? LIKE NINE!"
We traveled with Dean Mendini and the dancers on the way back, but still hovered around Dr. V and stayed pretty close. The trip from Wuhan to Guangzhou wasn't bad at all, but I swear I was going to kill somebody on the International flight back to LAX.
First of all (and this is going to be a rant - I gave you fair warning) I'm six feet tall. I'm also NOT the tallest person I know so there are more than enough tall individuals in the world to make airplanes that don't smash us!!! Seriously.
Also - people in Asia are generally smaller. So I GUESS I understand... just a little bit... why I had no room. None. Worst international flight ever.
I was on the aisle seat, with Heather to my left and then Lydia by the window. Lydia... the smallest of the three of us. ;)
And this is a thirteen hour flight and I sit down and I'm like "Uh-oh." Because my knees are already jamming into the seat in front of me... and our seat backs are still in their upright position and everything. What looked like an American, older couple sat in front of Heather and I. And as usual, the nanosecond they could recline... the guy in front of my reclined all the way.
On a side note before I go on - I feel like I'm a pretty nice and easy going person. I have patience when I need it, which includes over 13 hour flights.
I ended up purposefully digging my knee into this man's back when we wanted to see if his seat could recline even farther. Just trying to say "HELLO! I'M RIGHT HERE!"
I was so pissed like two hours into it. haha so mad...
But it eventually ended. Eventually.
And then we had to RUN to our connecting flight to Las Vegas. Here is what we all accomplished in an hour and a half:
- got off the international flight
- went through passport check
- Grabbed our luggage (I had managed to get ahead of most of the musicians and grabbed their luggage, too)
- Went through the a baggage inspection thing before we left the terminal completely.
- Ran to the southwest terminal (and enjoyed the cleaner and cooler air fyi)
- Met up with three "lost" dancers (they really just kind of got left in the dust)
- Checked into our flight and had lime green "late" tags put on our luggage. It was at this point that Dr. V had to stay behind to help the three dancers with their stuff and I was handed the boarding passes for everyone... guess that put me in charge for a few minutes.
- Made it through security and found our gate. All of us. Right as they started boarding.
The flight to Vegas was the most chill flight ever. It's only 45 minutes -- so my question is:
Why did I have more room on that flight than on the international one?
Here is a picture of how happy Mike and I were about: ice in our water, toilet paper in the airplane bathroom, air conditioning blasting in our faces and regularly spoken English.
A few quotes from the State side part of this trip:
"Hey it's hot... but not like in Chiiiina!" - Dr. Vartan
"We've started our initial descent into Las Vegas which means in about ten minutes we will have to collect your trash. That means your drinks, so start drinking your drinks. Thank you *awkward laughter*" - The Pilot
"Trash? Trash? Is everyone doing alright? Everyone doing okay? Trash?" - Flight Attendant.
AAAAND Mike had a row to himself and had all three vents for the air conditioning pointed at him. LOL
And that's the end of the story
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Katy's Going to China!!
So, I don't know when "packing" became synonymous with "cleaning."
Because both of these things have been absolutely necessary, yet elusive at the same time. I have been going pretty much crazy the last forty eight hours. It all started with a night that included a nightmare and only about three hours of sleep... which started an entire day that consisted of lots of productivity, hardly any food, and resulted in a very exhausted Katy.
My room was a freaking disaster area and every single time I went to pack, something came up. Every time. Every... time. -_-
I have also been seriously struggling to get my assignments for CSIS1000 done. I did get a week and a half ahead, but, unfortunately, I have to do some stuff in Wuhan. But I guess that's okay. Linux Mint is the death of me...
But, the point of this blog is to share some info before I fall off the face of the Earth (according to you people).
We are heading to St George at 9am tomorrow to catch a shuttle to McCarren airport. Our flight leaves LV at 4pm and we will arrive at LAX at 5 pm...ish.
Only to go through the International part of the airport and catch a flight to Beijing. A flight, by the way, that is about thirteen hours. But overnight. Sleep. It does a body good.
Then we have a connecting flight to Wuhan and will arrive there sometime Sunday morning their time. China is fourteen hours ahead of Utah by the way...
We start rehearsals on Monday. Probably from 9-12 and 2-5 on the weekdays. I have my part and it's not too difficult, but I will definitely need to stay engaged and I'll be exhausted at the end of the day.
Here are some pictures of after packing. I am too embarrassed to document what my room was like a mere hour before these were taken...
Because both of these things have been absolutely necessary, yet elusive at the same time. I have been going pretty much crazy the last forty eight hours. It all started with a night that included a nightmare and only about three hours of sleep... which started an entire day that consisted of lots of productivity, hardly any food, and resulted in a very exhausted Katy.
My room was a freaking disaster area and every single time I went to pack, something came up. Every time. Every... time. -_-
I have also been seriously struggling to get my assignments for CSIS1000 done. I did get a week and a half ahead, but, unfortunately, I have to do some stuff in Wuhan. But I guess that's okay. Linux Mint is the death of me...
But, the point of this blog is to share some info before I fall off the face of the Earth (according to you people).
We are heading to St George at 9am tomorrow to catch a shuttle to McCarren airport. Our flight leaves LV at 4pm and we will arrive at LAX at 5 pm...ish.
Only to go through the International part of the airport and catch a flight to Beijing. A flight, by the way, that is about thirteen hours. But overnight. Sleep. It does a body good.
Then we have a connecting flight to Wuhan and will arrive there sometime Sunday morning their time. China is fourteen hours ahead of Utah by the way...
We start rehearsals on Monday. Probably from 9-12 and 2-5 on the weekdays. I have my part and it's not too difficult, but I will definitely need to stay engaged and I'll be exhausted at the end of the day.
Here are some pictures of after packing. I am too embarrassed to document what my room was like a mere hour before these were taken...
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Ha! I Just Hit Waluigi into a Bus!
I spent the evening at Demk's house unlocking MarioKart Characters. Mind you, I was texted about it right as I was falling asleep for a much needed nap.
I walked into the house, and was literally handed the controller as Demk and Star said hello and asked why I had fallen off the face of the earth for the day. Apparently Demk had tried to get me over forty minutes before... but I have no recollection of that event.
So I sit down, and go to Mirror Mode - Star's favorite character is Rosalina. Because she's blond, wears blue and has a Star that giggles and twirls. Super cute.
And I failed. Epically!
(During Moo Moo Meadows)
Me: "It's like I'm magnetically attracted to everything that will slow me down!"
Star: "Katy, don't drive in the grass... you might stay in first if you avoid the grass"
(A few seconds go by where I find all of the grass patches and slowly drudge my way through them. Reminder that I'm the one playing because I'm supposed to be really good at this game)
Star: *laughing* "Wow..."
Me: (as I'm trying to avoid hitting the friggin' moving cows) "AH! MOO-MOO's!"
I did manage to hold down first and went on to the next race where, rather suddenly, a diagnosis came to mind.
Me: "Why do I always fail SO BAD on the third lap?"
Star: "I don't know..."
Me: "It's like I peak on the second lap or something."
Star: *giggles* "... that's what she said!"
Yeah... that's what she said...
About an hour later I'm on Moonview Highway. With traffic. And bombs. And everything that was right is left because I'm in MIRROR MODE. I have also resorted to being rather violent -- I upgraded from the light weighted Baby Daisy to the medium weighted Daisy to the heavy weighted (because of the SUPER cute Star) Rosalina once I unlocked her... JUST SO I COULD HIT THE OTHER COMPUTER PLAYERS! But I had to go back and re-do some stuff for Bowser Jr. (oh my gosh... I'm a closet chick gamer... )
So I'm barely dodging the traffic and the bombs but every once in a while the phrase "Aw, I just got ran over and now I'm FLAT!" was coming out of my mouth. With Star supportively laughing in the background while playing scrabble with Demk.
But I get into this intense smashing match with Waluigi. This usually does not happen because I'm playing against eleven computer players.
Star: "Wow..."
Me: "I know..." *manages to make Rosalina hit Waluigi into a moving bus and watch HIM go flat!*
Me: "Oh my gosh! I just hit Waluigi into a BUS!"
It was epic. Not as epic as Rosalina's star. Cutest Star in the world. One of the reasons I love Super Mario Galaxy. Because, deep down, I'm still a thirteen year old who has a soft spot for glitter and stars that giggle and twirl.
I walked into the house, and was literally handed the controller as Demk and Star said hello and asked why I had fallen off the face of the earth for the day. Apparently Demk had tried to get me over forty minutes before... but I have no recollection of that event.
So I sit down, and go to Mirror Mode - Star's favorite character is Rosalina. Because she's blond, wears blue and has a Star that giggles and twirls. Super cute.
And I failed. Epically!
(During Moo Moo Meadows)
Me: "It's like I'm magnetically attracted to everything that will slow me down!"
Star: "Katy, don't drive in the grass... you might stay in first if you avoid the grass"
(A few seconds go by where I find all of the grass patches and slowly drudge my way through them. Reminder that I'm the one playing because I'm supposed to be really good at this game)
Star: *laughing* "Wow..."
Me: (as I'm trying to avoid hitting the friggin' moving cows) "AH! MOO-MOO's!"
I did manage to hold down first and went on to the next race where, rather suddenly, a diagnosis came to mind.
Me: "Why do I always fail SO BAD on the third lap?"
Star: "I don't know..."
Me: "It's like I peak on the second lap or something."
Star: *giggles* "... that's what she said!"
Yeah... that's what she said...
About an hour later I'm on Moonview Highway. With traffic. And bombs. And everything that was right is left because I'm in MIRROR MODE. I have also resorted to being rather violent -- I upgraded from the light weighted Baby Daisy to the medium weighted Daisy to the heavy weighted (because of the SUPER cute Star) Rosalina once I unlocked her... JUST SO I COULD HIT THE OTHER COMPUTER PLAYERS! But I had to go back and re-do some stuff for Bowser Jr. (oh my gosh... I'm a closet chick gamer... )
So I'm barely dodging the traffic and the bombs but every once in a while the phrase "Aw, I just got ran over and now I'm FLAT!" was coming out of my mouth. With Star supportively laughing in the background while playing scrabble with Demk.
But I get into this intense smashing match with Waluigi. This usually does not happen because I'm playing against eleven computer players.
Star: "Wow..."
Me: "I know..." *manages to make Rosalina hit Waluigi into a moving bus and watch HIM go flat!*
Me: "Oh my gosh! I just hit Waluigi into a BUS!"
It was epic. Not as epic as Rosalina's star. Cutest Star in the world. One of the reasons I love Super Mario Galaxy. Because, deep down, I'm still a thirteen year old who has a soft spot for glitter and stars that giggle and twirl.
Good Night
Friday, July 1, 2011
Multiple Status Syndrome
Life is a whole big mesh pot of things that don't go together.
I blame the above statement for my inability to be content with just one or two facebook statuses per day....
Today I woke up a little earlier than normal to finish some homework... which, incidentally, also made me run behind on the whole "getting ready" regiment:
Shower. Clothes. Teeth. Face. Hair.
Put my school stuff together (mental checklist). Find my glasses, keys and wallet (which by the end of every single day are never in the same place). Leave (hopefully on time).
Now, when I initially wake up, I check my email and facebook. Saying that out loud sounds completely bizarre and almost sick, but I do. I had updated my status something like:
"TGIF! Happy July, too!"
-- because I am both excited it's Friday, and a combination of horrified and excited that it's July.
Approximately half an hour later I'm out of the shower, dressed, and I'm trying to not looked like a friggin' drowned rat! I look at my reflection and I have one thought:
"Oh my heck...I need a haircut. My hair is a MOP"
I watch my reflection crack a stupid grin because of my unusual wit....
But seriously... my hair was very mop-like. Flipping,waving, going... EVERYWHERE, but managing to look very heavy all at the same time. I didn't even want to begin the damage control...
But I do, chuckling to myself at weird moments (it's a good thing no one watches me in the morning). Then I turn around to find my school things (check) and my wallet and keys (check, check) and my glasses...
Took me 10 FRIGGIN' MINUTES to find my glasses...
Then -- I had a thought. FACEBOOK STATUS. I grab my iPad and pull up my facebook, thinking this status will be too hilarious that no one will notice I updated my status less than an hour ago anyway...
Only, when I wrote the status I only remembered the part about my glasses -- so I had to comment on my own status like seven seconds later about my hair. Five minutes later I finally located my glasses...
and had convinced myself that was the dumbest status ever -- who comments on their own statuses about their hair being a mop? Weird people, that's who... so I'm either weird... or I could delete the post and hope no one saw it to begin with.
So I deleted it. Then I had a day filled with interesting... moments. All of which I want to transform into a magical, witty, "you-can't-help-but-comment" status. But, as usual, two minutes after I post it... I delete it.
I don't know what I feel weirder about: The fact that I updated my status probably close to ten times today -- all funny, unique and (during the school semester) normal as far as my kind of statuses go. OR the fact that only about three or four of them are still on my facebook... withstanding the test of time.
A few that didn't make it:
Like when I referred to my bread stick today at the Pizza Factory as a Pepperoni.
When a bug got caught between my eye and my sunglasses... how does that even HAPPEN?
When I read an email with travel plans to China and was literally thinking "Holy freakin crap" for about fifteen minutes before someone else's status caught my attention and now my mind is completely on a different planet...
What is WRONG with me!?
I blame the above statement for my inability to be content with just one or two facebook statuses per day....
Today I woke up a little earlier than normal to finish some homework... which, incidentally, also made me run behind on the whole "getting ready" regiment:
Shower. Clothes. Teeth. Face. Hair.
Put my school stuff together (mental checklist). Find my glasses, keys and wallet (which by the end of every single day are never in the same place). Leave (hopefully on time).
Now, when I initially wake up, I check my email and facebook. Saying that out loud sounds completely bizarre and almost sick, but I do. I had updated my status something like:
"TGIF! Happy July, too!"
-- because I am both excited it's Friday, and a combination of horrified and excited that it's July.
Approximately half an hour later I'm out of the shower, dressed, and I'm trying to not looked like a friggin' drowned rat! I look at my reflection and I have one thought:
"Oh my heck...I need a haircut. My hair is a MOP"
I watch my reflection crack a stupid grin because of my unusual wit....
But seriously... my hair was very mop-like. Flipping,waving, going... EVERYWHERE, but managing to look very heavy all at the same time. I didn't even want to begin the damage control...
But I do, chuckling to myself at weird moments (it's a good thing no one watches me in the morning). Then I turn around to find my school things (check) and my wallet and keys (check, check) and my glasses...
Took me 10 FRIGGIN' MINUTES to find my glasses...
Then -- I had a thought. FACEBOOK STATUS. I grab my iPad and pull up my facebook, thinking this status will be too hilarious that no one will notice I updated my status less than an hour ago anyway...
Only, when I wrote the status I only remembered the part about my glasses -- so I had to comment on my own status like seven seconds later about my hair. Five minutes later I finally located my glasses...
and had convinced myself that was the dumbest status ever -- who comments on their own statuses about their hair being a mop? Weird people, that's who... so I'm either weird... or I could delete the post and hope no one saw it to begin with.
So I deleted it. Then I had a day filled with interesting... moments. All of which I want to transform into a magical, witty, "you-can't-help-but-comment" status. But, as usual, two minutes after I post it... I delete it.
I don't know what I feel weirder about: The fact that I updated my status probably close to ten times today -- all funny, unique and (during the school semester) normal as far as my kind of statuses go. OR the fact that only about three or four of them are still on my facebook... withstanding the test of time.
A few that didn't make it:
Like when I referred to my bread stick today at the Pizza Factory as a Pepperoni.
When a bug got caught between my eye and my sunglasses... how does that even HAPPEN?
When I read an email with travel plans to China and was literally thinking "Holy freakin crap" for about fifteen minutes before someone else's status caught my attention and now my mind is completely on a different planet...
What is WRONG with me!?
Thursday, June 16, 2011
What's Your Childhood Trauma?
I was a highly imaginative child. Along with that I would also say that I was introverted, sensitive and incredibly tall for my age.
I also had thing really horrible habit of forgetting a towel before hopping in the shower. *clears throat* and I'm NOT going to mention that home video that has my butt naked eight year old self running down the hall...
... or the fact that it is in my older sister's possession, who wanted me to watch it with them so they could laugh until I got so pissed off she hasn't mentioned "home movies" in a few years. On a side note if I ever find a man who loves me, and then can watch that video and still think I'm sane enough to marry...
Anyway -- I think I had a pretty healthy, normal childhood. I tried to rebel. The 5th grade talent show comes to mind... but for the most part I was a good kid. It took me until 6th grade to realize it was easier to just do my freaking homework than it was to intercept my report card. The worst part of this was my parents knew I was smart, just lazy. Which equals disappointment... which is the worst thing in the world!
But really, I hate homework. I do. So much. And I do it. I sooo do it. I even read my textbook reading assignments...
Let's draw the line of childhood sometime immediately following graduating high school in June of 2007. Nothing really horrendous had happened to me. I think the worst day of my teenage life, at that point, happened at a Field Show Tournament and I can't remember much of the details.
Then, BAM! I'm in Cedar City and had just finished my first week of class EVER and I have to wrestle with a strange man in the middle of the night...
But, still, I went to counseling and I hardly ever get reminded or think about it like I did when I was a freshmen.
I'm trying to remember a story, or an incident that is my childhood in a nutshell. And no, those of you who were at the Music Department party, it's not when I would ask if we were going to "Sizzler" at church on Sunday when I was a little girl. It's also not defined when I glared at other flute players in elementary school and just couldn't understand why they couldn't play what was so obviously written down in front of them...
I guess it's somewhere in between the moments surrounding things like Wind Ensemble going to Washington DC in 2005 and we all started having a snowball fight outside of the lobby at the Dekelboum Concert Hall and everyone was looking at the kids from Barstow High like we were INSANE, or when, during the same trip I realized I loved American History?
Maybe it reappears when I call my dad and chat about what we used to do in High School. Like, when I was a Senior, he would always call me out of 4th period (I was the French Teacher's TA) to take an extra long lunch with me at Del Taco. Or it could be when I would have to strip down on the side of one of the buses after the award's ceremony during Marching season when I was Drum Major as a Jr. and Sr.? With my BEST FRIEND Ariel!? Trying to get into our normal clothes without showing the world everything!?
It could've happened sometime on the charter bus on the way to San Francisco in 2004 - because it definitely didn't happen on the way back from San Francisco a few days later...
Thinking back even farther - it might have happened when I spent hours with my brother, Ben, playing video games and going around town with a bunch of our friends. When it was me and him against our oldest sibling, Elizabeth? That when he got a horrible sunburn (he's a red-head) in our pool one day because he refused to wear a shirt... and I had to peel his skin off? Or have to deal with him yelling "KADE!" from across the house until I came.
That's how I got that nickname...
I still feel like her.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Katy: The Very Cranky Lady
WARNING: I am probably going to make reference to how much I hate being a "girl" if you know what I mean. So either stop reading or prepare yourself to know a little bit too much information...
Have you ever had a night where you didn't even start on the homework until 9pm? And it ended up being over three hours of grueling academic experience?
Before I begin, let's rewind back to this morning or early afternoon (it actually feels like this happened yesterday but WHO CARES?) After I got done with Psychology, I headed over to the Music Library whereupon I quickly found out that every. single. individual jazz part that needs to be filed away (thus ending the Jazz portion of the new and improved music library) is completely missing. As in... the chart is not THERE. As in... there are MISSING JAZZ CHARTS!!!! ... and I got a paper cut :'(
I was texting one of my good friends - we'll call him Guy. This ambiguity could be very entertaining.... Before I know it I'm getting coaxed into calming down... "Deep breath" "Don't hurt yourself" And all I really wanted to say was "No... you don't understand... there are Jazz Charts missing!"
... but I did realize I probably needed to go home and sleep. In fact, this was Guy's advice. I knew he was right. But I couldn't just go home. Don't you hate days like that?! But, I did, however, leave the Music Library.
I went to my car and picked up my textbook for CSIS 1000 and headed over the ELC to do my assignment for the day. There is something about these assignments and instructions that make it take me like an hour to do it. So Thorough. So Wordy. So Pointless. So time consuming. So annoying...
Forty-five minutes later I think my eyes were watering from staring back and forth between the textbook and the computer screen. and my brain is pretty much numb. AND I think my frustration/annoyance level was climbing up to about a 7.
On a side note: I'm having one of those months where Midol is not enough to make me normal... I'm hurting. I'm sore. I'm moody as Hell. I don't know where my appetite went! It's like I'm just so uncomfortable below my stomach that I'm not even aware that I'm RAVENOUS!
Anyway - so I go home. I start laundry. I take some more Midol. I don't get any more comfortable and I'm too freaking lazy to find my heating pad...
I have this assignment for Psychology that I'm turning in tomorrow - a paper demonstrating that I read Chapter Two and practiced the SQ4R study method. This Chapter is about the biological reasons why we do the things we do.
Let me tell you something: I don't care why we do the things we do today. All I really care about is how I'll feel at the end of the week...
I didn't care about how the brain works in 2007 at Freshmen Orientation with Jill Wilkes. I don't care now...
But, alas... I do care about my grades and the fact that I need to know this information. But I remember thinking, rather vividly:
"I haven't been sleeping well anyway. I'll just take it easy and start it when I feel like it, even if it's at 9pm"
... and that's exactly what happened.
I started the assignment at 9pm.
I surveyed. I made up questions. I read the chapter. I did NOT recite it. I reflected on the material. And I wrote down the review.
I had to have a caffeine break considering I actually fell asleep (and would've been asleep for the night) at like 7:30pm but woke up in a panic thinking I never got the assignment done...
I went to Maverick with my roommate. We'll call her - Rocker. I think I entertain her greatly - especially when she hears random sounds coming from my room like "Ugh!" "I DON'T CARE" and hysterical laughter when I get on facebook, or start texting Guy among other friends...
I tried to chose the most caffeinated beverage that was both there and something I allow myself to ingest. I decided on Mountain Dew: Code Red and some chocolate... can't forget the chocolate...
I did some math in my head:
This Chapter is thirty pages long. I had been at it for two hours and had ten more pages left. So that's about ten pages an hour, which means one page every six minutes.
Rocker's advice: "Maybe you shouldn't have done the math...."
Anyway, an hour later I'm done. And all the Code Red did was make me burp like an overweight alcoholic in his early 40s....
And now I can officially say that completing this assignment has not made me feel any better -- and every time I hear a sound from upstairs I'm afraid they're going to have sex again...
Sighs The End.
Have you ever had a night where you didn't even start on the homework until 9pm? And it ended up being over three hours of grueling academic experience?
Before I begin, let's rewind back to this morning or early afternoon (it actually feels like this happened yesterday but WHO CARES?) After I got done with Psychology, I headed over to the Music Library whereupon I quickly found out that every. single. individual jazz part that needs to be filed away (thus ending the Jazz portion of the new and improved music library) is completely missing. As in... the chart is not THERE. As in... there are MISSING JAZZ CHARTS!!!! ... and I got a paper cut :'(
I was texting one of my good friends - we'll call him Guy. This ambiguity could be very entertaining.... Before I know it I'm getting coaxed into calming down... "Deep breath" "Don't hurt yourself" And all I really wanted to say was "No... you don't understand... there are Jazz Charts missing!"
... but I did realize I probably needed to go home and sleep. In fact, this was Guy's advice. I knew he was right. But I couldn't just go home. Don't you hate days like that?! But, I did, however, leave the Music Library.
I went to my car and picked up my textbook for CSIS 1000 and headed over the ELC to do my assignment for the day. There is something about these assignments and instructions that make it take me like an hour to do it. So Thorough. So Wordy. So Pointless. So time consuming. So annoying...
Forty-five minutes later I think my eyes were watering from staring back and forth between the textbook and the computer screen. and my brain is pretty much numb. AND I think my frustration/annoyance level was climbing up to about a 7.
On a side note: I'm having one of those months where Midol is not enough to make me normal... I'm hurting. I'm sore. I'm moody as Hell. I don't know where my appetite went! It's like I'm just so uncomfortable below my stomach that I'm not even aware that I'm RAVENOUS!
Anyway - so I go home. I start laundry. I take some more Midol. I don't get any more comfortable and I'm too freaking lazy to find my heating pad...
I have this assignment for Psychology that I'm turning in tomorrow - a paper demonstrating that I read Chapter Two and practiced the SQ4R study method. This Chapter is about the biological reasons why we do the things we do.
Let me tell you something: I don't care why we do the things we do today. All I really care about is how I'll feel at the end of the week...
I didn't care about how the brain works in 2007 at Freshmen Orientation with Jill Wilkes. I don't care now...
But, alas... I do care about my grades and the fact that I need to know this information. But I remember thinking, rather vividly:
"I haven't been sleeping well anyway. I'll just take it easy and start it when I feel like it, even if it's at 9pm"
... and that's exactly what happened.
I started the assignment at 9pm.
I surveyed. I made up questions. I read the chapter. I did NOT recite it. I reflected on the material. And I wrote down the review.
I had to have a caffeine break considering I actually fell asleep (and would've been asleep for the night) at like 7:30pm but woke up in a panic thinking I never got the assignment done...
I went to Maverick with my roommate. We'll call her - Rocker. I think I entertain her greatly - especially when she hears random sounds coming from my room like "Ugh!" "I DON'T CARE" and hysterical laughter when I get on facebook, or start texting Guy among other friends...
I tried to chose the most caffeinated beverage that was both there and something I allow myself to ingest. I decided on Mountain Dew: Code Red and some chocolate... can't forget the chocolate...
I did some math in my head:
This Chapter is thirty pages long. I had been at it for two hours and had ten more pages left. So that's about ten pages an hour, which means one page every six minutes.
Rocker's advice: "Maybe you shouldn't have done the math...."
Anyway, an hour later I'm done. And all the Code Red did was make me burp like an overweight alcoholic in his early 40s....
And now I can officially say that completing this assignment has not made me feel any better -- and every time I hear a sound from upstairs I'm afraid they're going to have sex again...
Sighs The End.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
You Know You're in a Pit Orchestra When...
As most of the people who know me already know, SUU Opera is performing the Mikado this week and we've had a couple of rehearsals in the last few days to prepare for it.
"The flowers that bloom in the spring tra-la!" has been stuck in my head since Saturday. Along with my part from "Our Great Mikado, Virtuous Man."
Yeah...
Here are the five things I have issues with in a pit orchestra:
1. My butt and back kill after the first rehearsal and every time I sit down for more than twenty minutes after then I feel it! This lasts until a day or two after closing night...
2. Sunlight anyone? I can only take so many hours in the "pit." Hello? I'm DOWN HERE!!!!
3. I feel like fresh air is the only thing that can save me from the almost tangible aura of sweat, breath and other bodily functions.
4. Watching various string players play with their mouths slightly agape, looking everywhere but at the conductor and playing everything too long and half a beat late.
5. The rehearsal schedule ruins my evening social life. If I had one, anyway... :)
Here are the five things I love about pit orchestra:
1. (This is really cheesy) Being an important part of a major production.
2. Looking across the orchestra and seeing at least five or six close friends. Many opportunities to have silent conversations in between playing about making a silly mistake or how awesome something sounded.
3. Knowing that the French Horn player chuckling at the third time I've botched a passage is actually laughing at my facial reaction because she's sitting that close to me.
4. The look on Gerry's face when something is going wrong... and when something goes right.
5. Occassionally glancing back at the Trombone and Tuba player, both of whom are doubled over in silent laughter about... drool....
Anyway -- COME TO THE OPERA!
You know you're part of a pit when you fall asleep with the music still stuck in your head...
"The flowers that bloom in the spring tra-la!" has been stuck in my head since Saturday. Along with my part from "Our Great Mikado, Virtuous Man."
Yeah...
Here are the five things I have issues with in a pit orchestra:
1. My butt and back kill after the first rehearsal and every time I sit down for more than twenty minutes after then I feel it! This lasts until a day or two after closing night...
2. Sunlight anyone? I can only take so many hours in the "pit." Hello? I'm DOWN HERE!!!!
3. I feel like fresh air is the only thing that can save me from the almost tangible aura of sweat, breath and other bodily functions.
4. Watching various string players play with their mouths slightly agape, looking everywhere but at the conductor and playing everything too long and half a beat late.
5. The rehearsal schedule ruins my evening social life. If I had one, anyway... :)
Here are the five things I love about pit orchestra:
1. (This is really cheesy) Being an important part of a major production.
2. Looking across the orchestra and seeing at least five or six close friends. Many opportunities to have silent conversations in between playing about making a silly mistake or how awesome something sounded.
3. Knowing that the French Horn player chuckling at the third time I've botched a passage is actually laughing at my facial reaction because she's sitting that close to me.
4. The look on Gerry's face when something is going wrong... and when something goes right.
5. Occassionally glancing back at the Trombone and Tuba player, both of whom are doubled over in silent laughter about... drool....
Anyway -- COME TO THE OPERA!
You know you're part of a pit when you fall asleep with the music still stuck in your head...
Friday, March 4, 2011
We're Not Married
Before I begin, I would like to apologize for the length of my last blog post. I was bored, and I got going on flute/piccolo playing. My bad...
So - it all started when at some point last semester Brandon and I needed to go over to the Education Department and talk about setting up his placement at Barstow High School.
We had just turned in graduation paperwork, and block application, and in my case education department application, and we were tired of being treated like crap. So on the way over to Old Main, Brandon was like "If we run into any problems, I think I'm going to lose it!"
Now... let's be honest here. That's not a good idea, so I tried to keep the reign of Brandon's temper. We approach Dr. Bowler's office a few minutes later and he's busy, so we wait, somewhat awkwardly, in the hall. He noticed our presence and barks, "What do you need?"
And it's at this point that Brandon starts losing it. But instead of exploding, he can't really form a coherent sentence - so I talk for him. The information is communicated that it's about student teaching placement in California. And Dr. Bowler gets slightly grumpy and says, "Ooo, California isn't good."
Brandon starts to get all puffed up, and I have to calm him down before we were actually invited into Dr. Bowler's office. I calm him down by rubbing his arm, telling him everything's going to be okay.
And we walked in. One thing led to another and it slips out that Brandon would be student teaching with my dad. It is at this point that Dr. Bowler says "Well, you can't do that. It's a conflict of interest."
Then we all stand there, with our mouths slightly agape. Then... it dawns on Brandon.
"We're not married!"
Then Dr. Bowler looks surprised as he says, "Well, that's not what you gave me..."
So - ever since then, everybody thinks that Brandon and I are either related, dating, or married. None of them are true.
He's just the big brother I wish I never had...
So - it all started when at some point last semester Brandon and I needed to go over to the Education Department and talk about setting up his placement at Barstow High School.
We had just turned in graduation paperwork, and block application, and in my case education department application, and we were tired of being treated like crap. So on the way over to Old Main, Brandon was like "If we run into any problems, I think I'm going to lose it!"
Now... let's be honest here. That's not a good idea, so I tried to keep the reign of Brandon's temper. We approach Dr. Bowler's office a few minutes later and he's busy, so we wait, somewhat awkwardly, in the hall. He noticed our presence and barks, "What do you need?"
And it's at this point that Brandon starts losing it. But instead of exploding, he can't really form a coherent sentence - so I talk for him. The information is communicated that it's about student teaching placement in California. And Dr. Bowler gets slightly grumpy and says, "Ooo, California isn't good."
Brandon starts to get all puffed up, and I have to calm him down before we were actually invited into Dr. Bowler's office. I calm him down by rubbing his arm, telling him everything's going to be okay.
And we walked in. One thing led to another and it slips out that Brandon would be student teaching with my dad. It is at this point that Dr. Bowler says "Well, you can't do that. It's a conflict of interest."
Then we all stand there, with our mouths slightly agape. Then... it dawns on Brandon.
"We're not married!"
Then Dr. Bowler looks surprised as he says, "Well, that's not what you gave me..."
So - ever since then, everybody thinks that Brandon and I are either related, dating, or married. None of them are true.
He's just the big brother I wish I never had...
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
The Case of the Sore Buttocks
If a kid asks where rain comes from, I think a cute thing to tell him is "God is crying." And if he asks why God is crying, another cute thing to tell him is "probably because of something you did."
I have a theory -- I must make God laugh. For yesterday morning He was the only person who saw what happened to me!
What kind of weather would that translate to, by the way? Cedar City weather? When it snows in the morning and warms up by Noon? If that's not showing a sense of humor I don't know what does...
BUT - back to yesterday morning.... I work at Cedar Middle School three mornings a week this semester with Allan Lee and David Palmer. I help out the Varsity Band and get great experience as a future music educator. I also realize things like the fact that I kind of have issues with the age 6th graders are. And maybe this issues are kind of severe and I need to work them out before I accept a Middle School gig which is probably looming sometime in my future...
Anyway! I need to wear professional attire, which includes dress shoes. Dress shoes have AWFUL traction. Horrendous. Almost non-existent. - But these dress shoes I have, as far as dress shoes are concerned, are not too bad in the traction department. So, I sign out at the front office and I'm thinking about what I need to do back on SUU Campus and I'm in the parking lot in approximately 15 seconds....
Then I have one of those experiences where time slows down. It's probably more like my mind had red warning flags blasting, but for the sake of the story -- time slowed down...
My right foot slipped out from under me... and in my effort to regain my balance I try to catch myself with my left foot. But, alas, my left foot slipped on the very same icy patch of doom! I had a very clear moment of thinking "I'm going to fall!"
And then I fell... right on my butt. Like, I'm not kidding. Directly on my butt! My butt came in contact with the icy asphalt and the impact must have traveled from my tail bone, through my spine and out the top of my head. I say out through the top of my head because the top of my head hurt.
I sat there, stunned, thinking, "Oh my gosh - that really hurt!" And, after looking around to see if anyone saw me, I started laughing. In amongst said laughing were repeated "Owe"s and "Holy crap"s. I eventually got up and, really, by the time I got to the Rotunda for breakfast and time with some friends I didn't hurt anymore.
Cue this morning -- I slept really well last night and I woke up to my alarm and when I turned to turn it off, something was off.... I was a little sore from conducting the pep band at last night's basketball game, but the twisting of my hips caught my attention.
My butt... is so sore! It's not my tail bone, like it probably should be! It's the place just below my lower back, on both sides a little closer to where my hips are. And - I found out in the Block - when I laugh too hard the top of my head kills.
That's right, ladies and gentlemen - the reason for my discomfort during walking, shifting in a chair, and the effort it takes to stand up and sit down, is because I'm pretty sure I have two pretty epic bruises forming just below my back...
Thank heavens it doesn't hurt once I'm sitting down....
I have a theory -- I must make God laugh. For yesterday morning He was the only person who saw what happened to me!
What kind of weather would that translate to, by the way? Cedar City weather? When it snows in the morning and warms up by Noon? If that's not showing a sense of humor I don't know what does...
BUT - back to yesterday morning.... I work at Cedar Middle School three mornings a week this semester with Allan Lee and David Palmer. I help out the Varsity Band and get great experience as a future music educator. I also realize things like the fact that I kind of have issues with the age 6th graders are. And maybe this issues are kind of severe and I need to work them out before I accept a Middle School gig which is probably looming sometime in my future...
Anyway! I need to wear professional attire, which includes dress shoes. Dress shoes have AWFUL traction. Horrendous. Almost non-existent. - But these dress shoes I have, as far as dress shoes are concerned, are not too bad in the traction department. So, I sign out at the front office and I'm thinking about what I need to do back on SUU Campus and I'm in the parking lot in approximately 15 seconds....
Then I have one of those experiences where time slows down. It's probably more like my mind had red warning flags blasting, but for the sake of the story -- time slowed down...
My right foot slipped out from under me... and in my effort to regain my balance I try to catch myself with my left foot. But, alas, my left foot slipped on the very same icy patch of doom! I had a very clear moment of thinking "I'm going to fall!"
And then I fell... right on my butt. Like, I'm not kidding. Directly on my butt! My butt came in contact with the icy asphalt and the impact must have traveled from my tail bone, through my spine and out the top of my head. I say out through the top of my head because the top of my head hurt.
I sat there, stunned, thinking, "Oh my gosh - that really hurt!" And, after looking around to see if anyone saw me, I started laughing. In amongst said laughing were repeated "Owe"s and "Holy crap"s. I eventually got up and, really, by the time I got to the Rotunda for breakfast and time with some friends I didn't hurt anymore.
Cue this morning -- I slept really well last night and I woke up to my alarm and when I turned to turn it off, something was off.... I was a little sore from conducting the pep band at last night's basketball game, but the twisting of my hips caught my attention.
My butt... is so sore! It's not my tail bone, like it probably should be! It's the place just below my lower back, on both sides a little closer to where my hips are. And - I found out in the Block - when I laugh too hard the top of my head kills.
That's right, ladies and gentlemen - the reason for my discomfort during walking, shifting in a chair, and the effort it takes to stand up and sit down, is because I'm pretty sure I have two pretty epic bruises forming just below my back...
Thank heavens it doesn't hurt once I'm sitting down....
Monday, February 28, 2011
The First of the Lasts
So - Pep Band. I don't remember a time when I didn't have to be at every home sporting event on campus! My friend, Tiana, said the other day "Look at how excited the freshmen are. They cheer and scream and clap. You know the upper-classmen because we're all sitting around bored out of our minds!"
She's right, you know. I'm bored out of my mind most of the time... except for when the percussionists are being funny.
... but my point is: This is the last pep band responsibility I have - and, please, I KNOW I will have to run who knows how many years of a HS or MS pep band. Let me bask in the glory for a moment!
My undergraduate experience is coming to a close. You know, I never thought I'd get here. Ever. It's been one of my goals, but so long-term that I can't believe I'm standing here. At the end.
... but the most exciting thing? Life is next.
She's right, you know. I'm bored out of my mind most of the time... except for when the percussionists are being funny.
... but my point is: This is the last pep band responsibility I have - and, please, I KNOW I will have to run who knows how many years of a HS or MS pep band. Let me bask in the glory for a moment!
My undergraduate experience is coming to a close. You know, I never thought I'd get here. Ever. It's been one of my goals, but so long-term that I can't believe I'm standing here. At the end.
... but the most exciting thing? Life is next.
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