I was nattering on about some clarinet related intrigue at work today, and my good friend and teaching partner Lyn had a Tourette's like outburst and screamed "NERD ALERT!" I couldn't help but laugh, because it really is true. I submit the following evidence to support my claim:
1) This weekend, I spent about three hours transposing music from the key of Eb to the key of Bb. This isn't the most difficult of transpositions, and I used to be able to do things like that quickly and easily. However, given the fact that I haven't done any sort of music theory ANYTHING for about two and a half years, it seemed incredibly difficult and took me FOREVER. But I kind of enjoyed it.
2) I was checking my email and had received an email from some travel website that I once booked a ticket with. The subject of the email was "Book Cruises: Something for Everyone!" When I read this, my knee-jerk response was "A BOOK cruise?! That's the kind of cruise I could really get behind!" Then I realized book was being used as a verb not an adjective to describe the type of cruise, and felt very sheepish.
What can I say, it's just how I roll.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Sunday, March 27, 2011
I Love Adele and Dislike Peppy Satan
I've been a fan of Adele for a long time, and have always loved listening to her music. I'd listened to her new album 21 a few times but hadn't become obsessed with it, which is what happened with her last one and what I expected to happen with this one.
I don't know why- maybe the timing just wasn't right, maybe I was too busy being obsessed with Urinetown (gimme a break, I'm playing ALL the reed parts for a production of this show in a few weeks and one of the ways I relieve my anxiety at playing my first show in almost exactly three years is by memorizing the soundtrack), or maybe I just wasn't feeling soulful enough.
Then, this Friday I had the pleasure of having a dinner/wine/vinyl evening with my good friends Kate and Sebastian. We often have dinner/wine/vinyl nights, because they both happen to be lovers of fine wine, and Sebastian has the most extensive and varied vinyl collection of anyone I know. He LOVES listening to records so much that it's hard for me not to start feeling equally amorous toward the practice. So this Friday I had the treat of listening to the aforementioned Adele album on vinyl. She sounds good in any format, but as Sebastian has told me before, records sound so much warmer and more beautiful than CD's or MP3's. I never really understood what he meant until I listened to this particular album, and now I completely agree.
The whole point of this little story is that my obsession with Adele's new album was officially ignited on Friday night, and I haven't stopped listening to it since. I wish I could sing like her, but since I can't I will settle for putting her tracks on repeat. And demanding my vocally gifted little sister learn to sing and play all of Adele's songs.
In other news, my battle with the 10k training continues, and I'm starting to panic that I won't be ready by May. I don't have many fond feelings toward training at the moment, and consider the peppy guy at the gym who insists on correcting my treadmill form ALL THE TIME, to be Satan personified. I always try and pull the "Ich habe dich nicht verstanden!" trick, but then he just talks slower and starts touching my legs and hips in a decidedly uncomfortable fashion. I think it might be time to start running outside...I'd rather brave the mean streets of the Dresden Neustadt than have peppy Satanic gym trainer fondle my under-toned lower half.
A friend of mine sent me this awhile ago, and I decided to re-post it as an ode to my own personal gym Satan.
Here's to hoping we all have a Treadmill Satan free week.
I don't know why- maybe the timing just wasn't right, maybe I was too busy being obsessed with Urinetown (gimme a break, I'm playing ALL the reed parts for a production of this show in a few weeks and one of the ways I relieve my anxiety at playing my first show in almost exactly three years is by memorizing the soundtrack), or maybe I just wasn't feeling soulful enough.
Then, this Friday I had the pleasure of having a dinner/wine/vinyl evening with my good friends Kate and Sebastian. We often have dinner/wine/vinyl nights, because they both happen to be lovers of fine wine, and Sebastian has the most extensive and varied vinyl collection of anyone I know. He LOVES listening to records so much that it's hard for me not to start feeling equally amorous toward the practice. So this Friday I had the treat of listening to the aforementioned Adele album on vinyl. She sounds good in any format, but as Sebastian has told me before, records sound so much warmer and more beautiful than CD's or MP3's. I never really understood what he meant until I listened to this particular album, and now I completely agree.
The whole point of this little story is that my obsession with Adele's new album was officially ignited on Friday night, and I haven't stopped listening to it since. I wish I could sing like her, but since I can't I will settle for putting her tracks on repeat. And demanding my vocally gifted little sister learn to sing and play all of Adele's songs.
In other news, my battle with the 10k training continues, and I'm starting to panic that I won't be ready by May. I don't have many fond feelings toward training at the moment, and consider the peppy guy at the gym who insists on correcting my treadmill form ALL THE TIME, to be Satan personified. I always try and pull the "Ich habe dich nicht verstanden!" trick, but then he just talks slower and starts touching my legs and hips in a decidedly uncomfortable fashion. I think it might be time to start running outside...I'd rather brave the mean streets of the Dresden Neustadt than have peppy Satanic gym trainer fondle my under-toned lower half.
A friend of mine sent me this awhile ago, and I decided to re-post it as an ode to my own personal gym Satan.
Dear Diary, For my birthday this year, I purchased a week of personal training at the local health club. Although I am still in great shape since being a high school football cheerleader 43 years ago, I decided it would be a good idea to go ahead and give it a try.I called the club and made my reservations with a personal trainer named Christo, who identified himself as a 26-year-old aerobics instructor and model for athletic clothing and swim wear.Friends seemed pleased with my enthusiasm to get started! The club encouraged me to keep a diary to chart my progress.________________________________ MONDAY:Started my day at 6:00 am. Tough to get out of bed, but found it was well worth it when I arrived at the health club to find Christo waiting for me.He is something of a Greek god-- with blond hair, dancing eyes, and a dazzling white smile. Woo Hoo!!Christo gave me a tour and showed me the machines. I enjoyed watching the skillful way in which he conducted his aerobics class after my workout today. Very inspiring!Christo was encouraging as I did my sit-ups, although my gut was already aching from holding it in the whole time he was around.This is going to be a FANTASTIC week!!________________________________ TUESDAY:I drank a whole pot of coffee, but I finally made it out the door. Christo made me lie on my back and push a heavy iron bar into the air then he put weights on it! My legs were a little wobbly on the treadmill, but I made the full mile. His rewarding smile made it all worthwhile. I feel GREAT!It'sa whole new life for me._______________________________ WEDNESDAY:The only way I can brush my teeth is by laying the toothbrush on the counter and moving my mouth back and forth over it. I believe I have a hernia in both pectorals. Driving was OK as long as I didn't try to steer or stop. I parked on top of a GEO in the club parking lot.Christo was impatient with me, insisting that my screams bothered other club members. His voice is a little too perky for that early in the morning and when he scolds, he gets this nasally whine that is VERY annoying.My chest hurt when I got on the treadmill, so Christo put me on the stair monster. Why the hell would anyone invent a machine to simulate an activity rendered obsolete by elevators? Christo told me it would help me get in shape and enjoy life. He said some other shit too._______________________________ THURSDAY:Asshole was waiting for me with his vampire-like teeth exposed as his thin, cruel lips were pulled back in a full snarl. I couldn't help being a half an hour late-- it took me that long to tie my shoes.He took me to work out with dumbbells. When he was not looking, I ran and hid in the restroom. He sent some skinny bitch to find me.Then, as punishment, he put me on the rowing machine-- which I sank._________________________________ FRIDAY:I hate that bastard Christo more than any human being has ever hated any other human being in the history of the world. Stupid, skinny, anemic, anorexic, little aerobics instructor. If there was a part of my body I could move without unbearable pain, I would beat him with it.Christo wanted me to work on my triceps. I don't have any triceps! And if you don't want dents in the floor, don't hand me the damn barbells or anything that weighs more than a sandwich.The treadmill flung me off and I landed on a health and nutrition teacher.Why couldn't it have been someone softer, like the drama coach or the choir director?________________________________ SATURDAY:Satan left a message on my answering machine in his grating, shrilly voice wondering why I did not show up today. Just hearing his voice made me want to smash the machine with my planner; however, I lacked the strength to even use the TV remote and ended up catching eleven straight hours of the Weather Channel..________________________________ SUNDAY:I'm having the Church van pick me up for services today so I can go and thank GOD that this week is over. I will also pray that next year my husband will choose a gift for me that is fun-- like a root canal or a hysterectomy. I still say if God had wanted me to bend over, he would have sprinkled the floor with diamonds!!!
Sunday, March 20, 2011
WTF, Jane Eyre?!
I've been looking forward to this movie coming out for roughly two months. Ever since I heard about it on one of the mindless but ADDICTIVE celebrity gossip blogs my sassy gay friend has introduced to me. Yes, I read them. Yes, I enjoy them. Don't judge.
But I digress! I love Jane Eyre! LOVE HER, I TELL YOU. When I saw the trailer for this movie I thought to myself, "Wow, looks like someone might have finally made a worthwhile and enjoyable movie adaptation!" Not to mention, Michael Fassbender is pretty easy on the eyes.
So I let my excitement grow. I read that it would be released in the US and Canada in early March, so I figured it would be released in Germany probably by April or May, at the latest by June. Usually the movie release dates are one to two months behind here, unless it's something huge like.....well, the only example I can think of right now is Harry Potter, and then I start snickering to myself about the joke possibilities when you combine "huge" and "Harry Potter" in the same sentence. So just trust me on this one.
This back story is leading up to something, I swear. This morning, as I was checking out NPR.org, (as I like to do on Sundays- it's a rock star lifestyle I lead.) I saw an article about Jane Eyre, which made me curious as to when it would be released here. So I went on a little internet hunt to find some answers.
Well, I found my answers. And I almost wish I hadn't. Ignorance sometimes really IS bliss. At least not knowing would have saved me from the rage I'm currently experiencing. Why?
Because Jane Eyre is not being released in Germany until September. SEPTEMBER. That's six months from now!! Why do those dirty sons of b-tches in the States get to enjoy this movie a full six months before European audiences?! And to further the outrage, the movie isn't even being released in the UK until September either! The movie was produced partially by the BBC...doesn't that at least warrant the British an earlier release date?! And lest you think I have real sympathy for the British, I'm really only upset about it because my back up plan was to go to London over the summer and see it then. Shit balls, foiled again.
All I want is a little big screen Bronte in my life. Is that so much to ask?! I think not.
This all boils down to one thing: North America: 1. Everywhere Else: NEGATIVE ONE MILLION.
But I digress! I love Jane Eyre! LOVE HER, I TELL YOU. When I saw the trailer for this movie I thought to myself, "Wow, looks like someone might have finally made a worthwhile and enjoyable movie adaptation!" Not to mention, Michael Fassbender is pretty easy on the eyes.
So I let my excitement grow. I read that it would be released in the US and Canada in early March, so I figured it would be released in Germany probably by April or May, at the latest by June. Usually the movie release dates are one to two months behind here, unless it's something huge like.....well, the only example I can think of right now is Harry Potter, and then I start snickering to myself about the joke possibilities when you combine "huge" and "Harry Potter" in the same sentence. So just trust me on this one.
This back story is leading up to something, I swear. This morning, as I was checking out NPR.org, (as I like to do on Sundays- it's a rock star lifestyle I lead.) I saw an article about Jane Eyre, which made me curious as to when it would be released here. So I went on a little internet hunt to find some answers.
Well, I found my answers. And I almost wish I hadn't. Ignorance sometimes really IS bliss. At least not knowing would have saved me from the rage I'm currently experiencing. Why?
Because Jane Eyre is not being released in Germany until September. SEPTEMBER. That's six months from now!! Why do those dirty sons of b-tches in the States get to enjoy this movie a full six months before European audiences?! And to further the outrage, the movie isn't even being released in the UK until September either! The movie was produced partially by the BBC...doesn't that at least warrant the British an earlier release date?! And lest you think I have real sympathy for the British, I'm really only upset about it because my back up plan was to go to London over the summer and see it then. Shit balls, foiled again.
All I want is a little big screen Bronte in my life. Is that so much to ask?! I think not.
This all boils down to one thing: North America: 1. Everywhere Else: NEGATIVE ONE MILLION.
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