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*

What am I?

Often in examining one's college life, there comes a time to boil down the essence of existance: What a person is really up to. Some students are party animals. Some students are human calculators, these students spend days on end spouting formulas and other bussiness I could never hope to understand. Other students are philosopical beings, their whole lives spent examining the universe and such.
I am of much humbler existance. I am a lung. One big breathing, air-pumping, oxygen-loving organ. My whole existance currently focusing on breathing bigger, better, faster, quieter, you name it. A cold and I'm toast. One of the main reasons I run (minus currently... dumb knee) is because it builds up my lung capacity.
So, I'm headed home and off to bed... so that yet again tomorrow, I can be a lung once again. Woot.

When I am absurdly rich and famous...

Right now I am slaving over an artist bio that I have put off for roughly a month. While I have no problem blabbering on here, I become tongue-tied at the thought of describing myself to random people through a printed program. So, just know, that when I am rich and famous, I will never write my own bio again. I will have minions to do such things. End of story.


Well, actually not. While I have you as a captive audience, I'll rant about a few other things. Like say, the weather, and the madness going on with that. SNOW?!?! On the southwest corner of the HFAC there is a lovely patch of white snow... exactly one week ago, I took a nap there, IN SHORTS AND A TEE-SHIRT! Luckily, I spend most of my time locked in a practice room, so by all relative standards the weather has little impact on me because I never see the sun anyways...

And, speaking of practice rooms... To all you who feel it is your right to take a perfectly good practice room during the middle of the day to belt Broadway to your beloved, think again. While I find you rather annoying late at night, I can live with you, because I know there are an abundance of practice rooms and I can go find another one. During the middle of the day there are no other practice rooms, so I am stuck with you, and the knowledge that you are keeping a real musician from practicing. (That sounds harsh... sorry... but when practice rooms are in short supply it begins to look at lot like lunch time on the savanna.)

Finally, no really, remember that new phone I got? Well, I figured since everyone has a picture of their beloved on their phones, I needed one on mine. So, today in the practice rooms I took the most studly picture of Johnathan... true (and end of) story.

Okay, I lied... I proof read this, and saw that everything in here revolved around music in some form or other... so to prove I have a life, believe it or not, I did go to enrichment tonight... *gasp* I think this is the first enrichment activity I've been to in my entire college career. It wasn't so bad. I just might go again...

For those of you *sniffle* who didn't come watch me Friday...

WE'RE ON TV!!! Apparently the performance was taped, well at least partially. So, to give you a taste of what I do... here we are!

For those of you who have absolutely no idea what I am talking about, this is the Woodwind Chamber night performance. There were three groups, a clarinet trio, oboe duo, and flute trio. Each group played twice and the clarinets played a cute Yiddish dance to end the whole concert.

This is the flute trio I talked about previously in the hat blog. Our name is the "TEEN FLUTE SQUAD" however, I am the only teen among the group, causing much confusion for the professors. It's a reference to some movie Meleece has seen and I haven't, which really doesn't narrow anything down, because Meleece has seen (and can quote verbatim) everything, and I have seen absolutely-nothing-what-so-ever. Seriously. Then we came up with names for ourselves... Meleece = "The LOUD ONE" Nicole= "The TALL ONE" & Jenni = "The FAVORITE ONE."

Secretly we were hoping for an MC who would shout out our names as we ran on stage with our flutes, but alas, no luck.

So, for your viewing pleasure, I give you, BYU's Woodwind Chamber Night: http://newnewsnet.byu.edu/story.cfm/71863

Today I learned...

That perhaps a wrap-around-skirt is not the best clothing choice for a windy day... awkward...

Calling China

So, my phone is freaking out. I was trying to talk to my mom and suddenly I could hear her but she couldn't hear me. Ugh. Something must be wrong with the satellites, probably more space garbage bashing things around in the solar system (wrecking nature in earth hasn't been quite enough, so now we're on to space garbage).
I thought I'd take a moment to tell you what it's like to live on opposite ends of the world from family. There's a fourteen hour time difference from here to China, so my family and I spend more time in different days than we do in the same day. As I am getting up in the morning, they all are headed to bed. On any given afternoon/evening I can call my family to see what tomorrow is like and if I really want to bother with getting up the next morning. It's like weather forecasting, but way cooler.
The weirdest was first figuring out when to call. I never knew exactly what time it was and I was always afraid of waking them up. Then when I finally did call I got weird looks from those around me as I asked "When is it?" or "What time are you?" Luckily we've moved past this stage.
Now partway through a Saturday afternoon I call them to say "good morning," eliciting about the same weird looks, but I feel less crazy, so it's okay. Actually, it's really cool having them over there. I talk to my mom more now than I did when they were in the states because as I am leaving campus at night, she's eating lunch. I've also been able to see really cool stuff I'd never get to see otherwise, and I've gained a new appreciation for a culture I never really had known much about. So, while sometime it's weird, and satellites fail and phones give out, actually, I really like having them over there and wouldn't change a thing.

Actually, I'm not "doing nothing"

Today I did something I haven't done in far too long. I found a book, sat down, and began to read. It was glorious, fabulous, and terrific all lumped into one freaking awesome moment of reading bliss. Then you came along; you know who you are. You had the audacity to assume that because I was sitting by myself, holding three hundred pages of typed goodness, I was horrendously lonely/miserable/bored-out-of-my-mind. I wasn't. I really didn't want to engage in conversation. I was in my own world, and I can promise you that nothing you had to say was as fascinating as what was going on in my book. You cannot compare to the intrigues of the Elizabethan court. The sooner you accept this, the better.
I do not read because I'm bored, or simply lacking something better to. Reading is that better thing. You can keep The Office, House, and American Idol, I'll stick to my books. They've been my constant friends since I was six and I see no reason to abandon them now. So, as grateful as I am that you took a moment out of your day to be friendly/witty/uber annoying, please, next time, LET ME READ!

Goodnight

I've been up and going strong since 5:30 this morning. I ran three miles, practiced, went to classes, began preparing for a midterm, finished putting together the Easter Program, rehearsed and cooked dinner for the week. I'm pooped and it's only 9:15. I meant to start studying again at 8, but somehow my face became embedded in the computer keyboard and I didn't regain consciousness for an hour. I think I'll head to bed...

PARIS

So, for those of you who I haven't told yet: I was accepted this week to spend the month of July studying music in Paris!!!!!!!!!!! I'm so excited, and mostly still in the I-can't-believe-this-is-actually-going-to-happen stage. I applied earlier this semester and spent the last month and a half stressing over getting in. I relived my audition so many times and picked each and every phrase apart agonizing over each imperfection.

The program is amazing, and the faculty is superb, with Dr. C. being one of the teachers. I'll spend the month studying music theory and counterpoint in all it's forms. Also I'll get to play in chamber ensembles, and play in concerts! In the program they bring in artists and composers from all over, and one of my friends who went last year got to premier a piece.

I'm also really excited because we'll get to go see lots of the music sights in Paris. I WILL GET TO TOUCH RAVEL'S PIANO!!! *eek* Also to get to study music and it's history in the city that is the flute capital of the world will be nothing less than spectacular. Paris was where the golden age of the flute happened. Many of the most world famous flute players today got their training in Paris. The Paris school of flute playing is one of the most (if not the most) respected flute styles and through my teachers I can trace my flute pedigree back to Paris. (Doing so probably represents the ultimate level of nerdiness... *grin*)

I'll be going with Amber and Danielle (two other flute majors) along with four other BYU students. During the day we'll take classes and sight see around Paris and at night we'll be attending all sorts of concerts. I can't wait. All I want is to fast forward to July. Although I probably ought to spend the next few months practicing like none other so that I sound good when I get there.... practice rooms, here I come!

I could blog about....

... how I want to do nothing but sleep. Or how I relived my childhood this week as Jana and I watched Star Wars. I could tell you about feeling displaced homesickness. Perhaps you want to know about the number of hours I spend with my flute, and what that does to the rest of my life. Maybe the ulcers that Dictation is giving me could be an interesting topic. Or the words of wisdom my mother gave me as I called panicking on Tuesday. There's the laundry I have to do, but don't want to touch. And I keep thinking about how beautiful Provo looked this morning as I left the temple. I bet you've never realized how hard it is to get a practice room, especially on a Friday afternoon. But it all worked out 'cause I got to see some good friends this afternoon (instead of practicing). I've also started to run once again.

In my flute lesson on Wednesday a opera singer from The Met dropped in to see Dr. C. That was crazy, he's apparently one of the most famous LDS opera singers, ever. I don't really have time to blog, so I can't tell you how much I hate the new facebook lay out. I won't even take time to tell you how irritated I was when my teacher didn't show for my test this morning. I can't describe to you how anxious I am for summer, or how tired I am of school. Even though I feel like drifting off right now, I know I can't take time for a nap.

And time, it's such an interesting thing. I wish I could describe to you how long a single day feels, until about 9 at night when I look back on all that I've accomplished. You'd never believe how good it feels at 9pm as I am looking back, even if I did feel like spending paragraphs on it.


I have so much to tell you, but so little time. I think I need Dumbledore's pensive, because the thoughts in my mind are swimming so fast it's almost dizzying...