Oh Wednesday Mornings

It is so typical of me to hate with a burning fiery passion the Wednesdays of my weeks.

Just like any other Wednesday, it was rainy and miserable. Why does it rain EVERY Wednesday? Wednesday...the day every professor decides to host his or her own examination with too much information, the day that pop quizzes pleasantly (not) surprise each and every one of us, the day that it will, in fact, rain.

I went through the normal routine today, fighting my inability to wake up to my constantly beeping alarm. Always beeping in my ear. Please...just...five...more...minutes. Why is it that I am able to wake up in the morning feeling like P. Diddy (sorry Ke$ha, had to do it) every other day except Wednesday?

Well shit, my computer won't turn on properly. Restart. Error. Restart. Error. Flip out, yank out the battery, scare my roommate...ah, restarted. Finally. Waste my time in the morning please? I love it...not. Check weather. Well what do you know, more rain and possible snow. Perfect. I love having to go to class at 10am until 7pm with nothing but shitty weather to trudge through. It's like the epitome of fucking fantastic.

Puff puff pant pant.

Walking to class is never this tiring. Why do I feel like I'm climbing to the top of Mt. Everest? Christ. I notice that when I'm walking to class, someone has lit a fire in the asses of everyone around me. Everyone is walking so fast. That's cool, more power to you skinny white girls. Wait...was that racist? Nah, I've got enough race to start my own America. I have also begun to realize that people around here have no sense of personal space. The sidewalks are at least ten feet wide. There is enough space for you fools to get the hell off my jock. I'm walking on the very edge of the sidewalk (for fear I may get run over by a raging sorority girl), you don't have to walk so close to me.

Also...girls. When did anyone tell you that leggings, were pants? Leggings are thicker versions of pantyhose. NOT PANTS. Please get that through your thick skulls. I would love to live my life without seeing your dimply asses cut me off on my way to class.

Barf.

At least the rest of my day was enjoyable. I got to listen to a guest speaker from the Cherokee Nation, then I listened to some modern music, then I completely failed a Greek Mythology quiz, then Psychology consisted of constant meditation for the entire hour. I can't possibly complain about that.

Happy freakin' Wednesday everyone.

Playing Music is Hard

I am a music major so before you jump on my ass about scolding them, re-read that first statement.

The past few weeks or so I've been practicing my instrument religiously for a performance.

I worry a lot about many things when it comes to performing. I'm never scared of what people think of me, I stopped giving a shit way back in the high school era. No, I'm more afraid of how I'll react to uptight "I'm so much better than you are" musicians. We play a short while, then, before the class we experience judgement day. They sit before you, smug with themselves, so delightfully please to be given the opportunity to totally PWN you in the most polite way possible. As soon as that first hand goes up, my heart sinks to my knees.

OH GOD...the fuck are they going to say now?!

"I love your tone" or even "oh I like your style but"...as soon as that but is uttered from anyone's mouth, shit gets real...OH! The infamous "but" how I despise you so. That's when I become aware of my emotions. My face screws itself up into the most disgusted look I can possibly give. Oh you music majors and your inability to NOT be inferior to anyone else...but you fucking suck and can never be better than I. That's all I hear. Constructive criticism is one thing, but to sit there and listen to a bunch of big headed phonies, my heart can't take it.

I must be different from those music majors. I can't seem to find anything wrong with anything ANYONE does. Maybe I have had my slice of humble pie for my lifetime.

So after playing, which in itself is a never killer, I stand there with nothing but an instrument and music to defend myself as they lay it on me. "That was cute!"

The hell?

Cute, I ask you? Cute?! Do they realize the hours put into this piece? The long long hours. Walking all the way up to the music building is like walking from here to West Africa. Finding a practice room is like fighting the Spartans. Playing the same line over and over in hopes to maybe be as good as the rest of the studio and getting to the dungeons of the music building in daylight and emerging from the bowls of the building in the dead of the night is not cute. Cute? I scoff upon your remark. The hell were you thinking? Were you on the same planet?

...at least I didn't get "That was cute, but..."

Music majors. They really piss me the hell off sometimes.

First Thoughts

I admit it, I am a complainer. Things annoy the shit out of me and sometimes I just can't help but openly admit it to the world. I suppose that's what I get for be such a vast array of feisty culture mash-ups. I grew up in a family that demanded everything now now NOW! Welcome to my impatient life...who are you to judge who I am anyway? You're probably similar in some respects. I just have the guts to admit to my flaws.

moving on

I am a fan of stumbleupon.com. Being a college student, I find ways to satisfy my procrastination needs, therefore stumbling across the internet has become a normal thing for me. I read these random blogs and think to myself hmm, I really need to start writing again...Well here I am. Writing again. Maybe I'll become famous. Maybe I'll piss people off. Maybe I'll amuse someone important. I don't know, but to relieve my mind of the stress of the day onto the internet? Eh, sound good to me.