FYI

The next post you get from me will be written from my parents living room in CHINA!!!

See ya, Suckers!

Music Major Madness

I'm sitting here waiting for my little cousin to be finished practicing piano so I can start.  As the clock reached the hour I had a nearly unstoppable urge to go kick him out, it's my room for the next two hours.  Then I realized practice room mentality doesn't really function out of the music building, and the room isn't magically his until seven if I don't boot him out by quarter after.  

That's not the only way music majorhood has *ahem* changed me.  I solfegg, a lot.  I look at the different lines in church as we are singing hymns and it's all going in solfegg.  After too much theory and dictation, I get really really excited about modulations (except when the TAB insists on doing one between each verse, really?! is it that necissary?)

I speak in another language.  I've had roommates complain of it.  I get together with music majors and we speak of dead people who (in my mind) wrote really awesome compositions, and then we pick it apart.  It doesn't help that none of us even bother with full names, here's a mild example from a conversation in which I lost one of my roomies last winter:  Last night I went and saw Concerto night with the Phil, some kid played the Rock 2 third movement.  

That's a mild example... Kim and I lost Tia trying to discuss a German Augmented Sixth Chord and it's modulation.  *grin*

Sometimes I love being a musician.  It makes me feel cool.

Odd Occurances

I've never thought of myself as being a city girl.  But at the very least, I have realized I am lost in a small town.  Just a few recent occurances to show how:

I asked my cousin to give me her phone number.   She gave me four digits.  Only four digits.  I then spent the next few minutes being utterly perplexed, until she explained that everyone in town has the exact same phone number, minus the last four digits.  

My mother grew up in this town.  Those of you who have seen us together know that we look rather similar.  Going to church was a real riot.  One of the ladies in church recognized me, as my aunt's little sister!  Then she was really really confused, because I'm a little too young to be one of the sisters.  Life made a lot more sense when she realized I was a niece.

Of course, I've been confused by people too.  After my first church incident a gentleman came up and shook my hand calling me "Effie's girl."  I'm used to that.  However, he then proceeded to ask how my family was doing in Asia.  The whole time I stood there thinking "Who the devil is this and why does he know who I am?"  He was my mother's neighbor growing up.  

I've loved my last few days here.  Tomorrow is the big test.  My aunt is off to help with the bees for the whole day again, and I'm here with the girls.  They may be little and cute, but they are highly energetic.  We'll see if I can get pictures of my charges tomorrow so you can see what we're up to.

New Respect

This week I am a maid/nanny/general-entertainment-center.  My aunt called to talk me into doing her spring cleaning and keeping her little girls entertained.  I figured it couldn't be that bad (and honestly it hasn't).  I'd clean some and play barbies.  What I forget is that I'm not the spring chicken I used to be.  Those girls have more energy than I could ever hope to have, even if I conked out for a day and then tried to keep up with them.  I'M EXHAUSTED.  

So, I've realized I have new respect for mommies.  I can't imagine doing this every day.  I think I'll have to go visit a exotic foreign country and run around for about a week to recover.  That ought to do the trick.  Maybe I'll up and leave right after finishing here, sounds nice... eh?

Seriously though, I am amazed.  Those girls have so much energy, and it never stops.  Where does this all come from?  Some mad scientist should learn how to bottle that stuff and sell it.  They'd beat out Red Bull any day.  They could call it, "Wired Kid."  And I know two perfect test subjects to compare with... they're hanging off of me at this very moment.

SUMMER

NO MORE CLASS ROOMS
NO MORE BOOKS
NO MORE TEACHER'S DIRTY LOOKS

Thanks for indulging me. *grin*

I am officially done with school until September, and I can't begin to describe how good that feels. Although, it has inspired a mini freak-out session. In completing this semester I am officially half way done with my undergraduate. That is incredibly scary. These two years have gone so fast, and the thought that there are only two left scares me. It wasn't that long ago that I was arriving on campus and goofing off in the dorms. I don't feel like I'm that far along, but as I look back I realize I've covered so much ground.

I just finished my last music theory test... EVER. I remember when writing out a simple I IV V7 I progression and avoiding voice leading errors nearly killed me. I freaking transposed through a Babbit Square! And, wrote and analyzed an aeleotorical composition. All in one final exam. (Feel free to come bring me food and express your adoration, I know I'm pretty awesome.)

With the completion of my jury this semester I only have two more left for my undergraduate. Also freaky. I have two recitals, but in some ways, I would much much rather give a recital than a jury. Recitals, in some twisted masochistic way, are really kinda fun.

What all this really means is I have no idea what I want to do with my life post undergraduate. Do I want to get a masters in performance? There are so many flute players out there... I've thought a lot about ethnomusicology, but I don't know if I could take the step away from flute playing to be an ethnomusicologist. That would be a really fun masters... so cool... study all the awesome music that gets played all over the world. I could do that. But I've also always wanted to be a professional flute player and work in a symphony, that's not a dream I care to ever let go of. ACK! I have a secret hope that I will wake up one morning in the next two years and magically have this all figured out, but I'm not sure it works that way.

What if I were to find someone and get married in the next two years? That's just as freaky. I'm not planning on it, but I have a lot of friends who haven't planned on getting married, and look at them now. That's freaky too. Again, I don't feel that grown up. Not even remotely.

Luckily I'm not alone in my freak-out. A lot of my friends who have now reached the same point as me are just as weirded out. It's been almost two years since I moved out of my parents house. It's almost two years exactly since I graduated from high school. I felt pretty cool then.
Weird, Weird, Weird...

I think I shall go self medicate with Disney songs as I pack...

Happiness

Today I am happy. I just took my second-to-last final and didn't do so shabby. Hopefully by this time tomorrow I will be completely done. WOO HOOO!!!

I'm moving apartments starting tomorrow... and my goal is to clean out all my useless junk. I came to college with a fairly minimal amount, but in the last two years something has happened, and now I think I am that roommate with too much crap. It just keeps multiplying, like bunnies. Actually, the real culprit is my love for printed literature, books, music, you name it, I buy it. Particularly the music. I LOVE buying new music, sort of the same way that most girls love shopping for clothing. Twisted, I know.

Another reason for my absurd amount of happiness right now is the Indian dinner I have planned. I'm trying a new recipe that I got from the guy who owns the little Indian store that I shop at. I'm sort of a anomaly there. Tall, white girl, who actually knows what to do with the abundance of spices and goodness in a little Indian store. Yep. I stick out like a sore thumb. But, the owner takes pity on me, and he gives me cool ideas. The trick is to take enough paper to write down what he has to tell me, which has been problematic. Before giving me the curry recipe he gave me a spinach recipe that I can not remember for the life of me. I guess I'll have to go ask again. And, I bought poppadoms (not sure I spelled it right... sorry). Basically, tomorrow night the roomies and I will be in a Indian goodness induced coma. So excited.

Ooh, and I went on a beautiful run yesterday, in my lovely new shoes. Tia would disagree, but it really was a great run, and I think I may go do it again today. Running is such a funny habit of mine. Two years ago I couldn't run a quarter of a mile, and nothing could have convinced me to do so, now if I don't run a few times a week, I get incredibly cranky. Peculiar.

AND I HAVE OTTER POPS!!! I kinda, sorta, love them. A lot.

Well... I'm gonna go be productive... ish... after all, it is finals week, and sunny, and I am deliriously happy...

Hey You!!!

No, not you. You. Yes, you, over there. The one behind the ginormous stack of text books. Yes, YOU. Just push aside one of those stacks and look at me. No, over, over. Yes, right here.

What? I'm studying too. Okay. I'm "studying." Actually, I'm semi bored out of my mind. That's why I have this coloring book, okay? Well, you should care, because people like you are the reason I'm so bored. Not you in particular, just all of you. Yes, I know it's finals week.

*sigh*

SUCKAS!!!

Last week you all were laughing at me, 'cause I had juries and finals before the reading days. But look who gets the last laugh now. ME!

While all you people spent your day cramming, praying, and on the verge of mental collapse, I did some sporadic studying, checked out four amazing books, ran four and a half miles, cleaned my apartment, partied with Denise and now I'm about to watch Spiderman and eat ice cream. Who's jealous now?

Basically, I have the most awesome major ever.

The end.

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Today my insides want to be on my outsides. There are multiple causes for this. I could have finally gotten that ulcer that's been haunting me. Perhaps the fact that I haven't eaten any solid food yet today could be a problem. Or the fact that I haven't gotten a significant amount of sleep in about a week. I was going to get some good sleep last night, but my downstairs neighbors threw a rockin' party and didn't invite me. Rude. Maybe the abundance of Easter goodness I ate this weekend is catching up to me. Jurries probably can share part of the blame. A lot of the blame. They're such a fun event... go play for faculty and be reminded of all the things you still haven't mastered. Actually, they're not that bad. I just want them to be over.
The good news is that I passed dictation, and am done practicing for the day. I may go back to run through my Bach Sonata again, but for all our purposes, I'm done. Now if only I could convince my insides to chill out. Ugh.
Finals week as a music major is actually my favorite week of the school year. While everyone else is freaking out, I'm done. At exactly 10:40 am tomorrow morning I will be finished with my jurry and only have three little finals left. One of which is take-home.
So, upon the commencement of my jurry I will do what I do each semester. I traipse off to the library, and silently mock all those who are madly cramming for finals they aren't ready for. I go color in my coloring books.... which actually sounds highly entertaining right now... tootles...

It is officially time for SUMMER

Today I almost paranthetically referenced a Disney movie in a note to by little brother. Clearly, I need a summer of mental regression.

"Enjoy your last day as a kid, Young One. Best of luck in your track meet. I am sure all your lovely deep water running will pay off and you will 'kick all the other kids butts' (Mulan)."

Luckily I realized what I had done before posting... lest my shame be imortalized forever on Facebook.

*gasp*

Today I Saved A Life. True Story.

I am cooler than Wonder Woman, Elastagirl, and Hermione Granger all put together. Said life saving did not involve needles or siphoning of blood from my system. I am far cooler than that. I am the sort of life saving machine who likes to just throw herself into the problem, as it were. So here's what happened:

Amazon Woman (that's me *grin*) running faster than a speeding bullet she races down the road with her favorite running companion (Latin music) but look, what be in yonder distance? In a blue sports car there be a young mother about to dash into traffic, seemingly oblivious to her imminent T-boning. Without a moments thought Amazon Woman (remember how cool she is *wink*) does the only thing she can to stop blue sports car girl. Amazon Woman dashes forward and slams herself into the side of the blue sports car chariot to stop the young mother from being crushed to oblivion. Never mind the bruised knees that Amazon Woman has, or the therapy she may have to go through before ever running again; it was all for a good cause. Those warm fuzzy feelings (of utter terror and shock) completely make up for everything, because helping moronic drivers not die is Amazon Woman's favorite thing. Amazon Woman sighs as she limps off towards her humble abode, "All in a days run, all in a days run."


Moral of said story: Just because Darwin didn't get you this time blue sports car girl, doesn't mean he won't later. Learn to drive or prepare to have your genes removed from the human gene pool.

Oh Mr. Sun, Sun, Mr. Golden Sun

Apparently, there is an inverse relationship between my grades/study habits and the amount of sun present.

Alas.

Oh the Places You'll Go

I've been talking on Facebook with an old friend. We went to nursery together and have been good friends ever since. It's interesting to have someone outside of your family who you've known for so long, especially when you've moved around. Both of us have moved a few times but, thanks to out mothers being good friends, we've kept in touch.

It's interesting to see where two kids from little towns in Kentucky end up. I know when we were running around creating havoc at the age of 3 we'd never have imagined where we'd end up. I wanted to be a ballerina and he wanted to blow things up (no joke). I now want to play in a symphony... and he still wants to blow things up. I guess some things really don't change. But so much does.

I lived in Kentucky for the longest, but it's not home. I loved living in Wales, but it's not home. Michigan is where I tell people I'm from, but it's not home. My family isn't there anymore, and I haven't been back in almost a year. I don't actually know when I'll go back again. Now my family is living in China, but it's not home. I live in Utah, but feel little connection to Provo outside of BYU and will probably only come back if I have family or friends who are in the area.

At the age of 3 when we were running around and playing in the dirt, I never could have imagined all that was waiting for me. I've been so blessed and seen so much.

When I was little I remember digging a massive hole in our back yard with Trent. (No really, it was huge, if I remember correctly, we had to buy sod to fill it because the dirt was too spread out and the hole too big.) Trent and I were digging to China. I remember as we dug we imagined what would happen once we dropped through the center of the earth and ended up on the other side. It actually played out somewhat like a Magic School Bus episode... odd. The very first thing that ran through my mind when I found out my family might move to China was that afternoon in our back yard in a little bump-in-the-road town in Kentucky.

I realized just recently that at the culmination of this semesters work, I will be exactly half way through my BYU experience. It's gone incredibly fast. It still seems like just last week that I was racing around the Dorms with Denise creating havoc (awesome flour fight anyone? *evil grin*) I have no idea what the next two years have, but I've realized that I only get to do this once. When Grad School hits I think things will be a lot different. If nothing else, a lot of the amazing opportunities that are present at BYU won't be available to me.

I don't want to just "get through" the next two years. Much of the last two years has been "getting through." I "get though" dictation, I "get through" general music classes, I "get through" boring/painful rehearsals, I "get through" early morning lectures. I spend far too much time "getting through" when I should be savoring. So, I made a decision. There will be no more "getting through" only accomplishing and savoring. Simply "getting through" doesn't really leave time to enjoy the moment. I don't want to look back on my undergraduate experience and wish that I had done more things and explored more ideas and options.

Now you wonder what am I doing about it. The "getting through" bug is pretty tough to beat, but I think I know how. I'm going to do some of the things I've always wanted to and never have. I'm signing up for a dance class this fall and couldn't be more excited. Not only that, but I want to fix how I think. My goal for the next two years is to avoid thinking of "getting through" and instead think of how I can really take joy in what I am doing, regardless of how I may like or dislike the activity. Does that mean that from here on out college will be like frolicking through a field of daisies? Nope. Do I expect that I'll love every moment? Not particularly. However, I do expect to love each day, to spend more time focusing on the things that I can fix and accepting that which I cannot. I've realized that the next two years are going to fly by, and I don't want to spend any part of it being unnecessarily miserable. So, wish me luck. I've got two more years to conquer and I'm bringin' down the house.

For your viewing pleasure: There we are in Nursery. I'm the problem child (?) between the two teachers. Lewis is the stud chillaxin' on the right side. My little brother Trent is the one is the 'spenders.

Scaredy Cat+ X Files= Very Late Night

It is 1:42 in the morning and I am sitting on the edge of my bed trying to convince myself to go to bed. I'm not procrastinating or doing something retarded, I am trying not to freak out. I don't watch scary movies. I have a hyper-active imagination and so scary movies are never a good idea. Most regular movies are plenty intense for me. I'm that girl who screams when the character jumps out, even when I know it's coming. So, here's a cute little mathematical equation for you:

Creeper in X-Files movie+Nicole+no roommates+late at night= I-think-I-might-wet-the-bed-for-the-first-time-since-I-was-6 level of "scaredness."

This is one of those times where having more roommates would be nice... extremely nice... because I'm officially creaped out. I have now filled my scary movie quota for the rest of my life, and probably will never watch another X-files again... although... nope... I think I'm good. Actually I have no desire to watch anything but Disney for the rest of my life, and even then, those scenes with Scar, well, we may have to edit those out.

I've always been a bit of a wimp when it comes to movies. I have vivid memories of running out of the room and hiding for the scary parts, while watching Mr. Rodgers Neighborhood. As I got older this fear hasn't really subsided (not of Mr. Rodgers, of scary movies). This fear has been made even cooler by my "sympathy reaction." In a movie (or real life) when I see someone in pain I show my sympathy in the best way I know how. I pass out. I don't just save this for small occasions either. To date I have passed out in Seminary, at school, and on my poor freshman roommate (Sorry Emily... therapy... with time and therapy...) along with a plethora of close calls. When most girls pass out it isn't too much of a problem... you just chuck the petite blond over your shoulder and get her some air... What are you supposed to do with a 6'2'' girl? I'm not really the type to be easily thrown over a shoulder to be taken outside.

On another semi related tangent... this ranks as another time when having family on the other side of the world is convenient. Had I called my mother at this time last year at 1 in the morning, she would have lovingly threatened my life. It's mid afternoon in China, so instead we had a lovely conversation as she tried to talk sense into me.

*... creeper hibernating freaks don't exist... creeper hibernating freaks don't exist... creeper hibernating freaks don't exist...*

Tia, you are never allowed to let me do this again... oh, and sorry I clawed your arm... and probably woke up all your roomies with my shrieking...

I think I shall sleep with the light on... all of them... at once... and perhaps a crow bar in my hand. *crap, I don't own a crow bar... would a curling iron work... I'm so unprepared*

Mental note to self: buy a crow bar... or anything I could use to fight for my life...

Okay... I can do this... I'm going to post my freak-out session for your reading pleasure... continue to play Mendelssohn, and cuddle up with the teddy-bear that ornaments my bed... He'll keep me safe. If not, I've got my phone right by my bed... and it's loaded? *sigh*