Tess: 1992-2010. One very old, very sweet cat.

Today my family lost a great pet and one of my oldest friends.
Tess was a good cat. A really good, sweet, lovey cat. She was the family cat, though technically mine and my oldest brother Jason's, but essentially she was mine. This was decided when, after maybe a year of this skittish little kitty running away from everyone, she hopped up on the couch next to me and immediately starting purring and pawing at me. From then on, she was my cat. She slept in my room every night and pawed and purred so much I frequently had to shove her off the bed.

She was lovey, and she very much deserved the good life she had. She saw me through most of elementary, middle and high schools, college, and grad school. 18 years is a lot for the tiniest maine coon in all the land. I love her dearly and have been missing her all day, much more than usual, of course.

I wish I had better pictures, because this little lady helped me through many a sobfest and sleepless night growing up. She let me dress her up in doll clothes and walk her around the house in a plastic baby carraige. Basically, she put up with all kind of my shit from childhood through adulthood and was ever the sweetest little thing.

But she couldn't see and she couldn't here, and it's unlikely any of that was going to be fixed. If we fixed her thyroid it would knock her kidneys out of wack even more and confining a fluffy helen keller to a bathroom (loss of bladder and bowel control was becoming an issue) while forcing medicine that probably won't even work down her throat....Yeah, I made the call to go ahead.

As sad as it made me, I know it was right. She really is in a better place, and we buried her in the yard at home. She joined the ranks of Kip, Bootsie, and ...some other pet my mother had as a child today. I'm going to go plant flowers over her tomorrow. :)

This is the last I will have to say on the subject. Because it's true and you know it.

I've actually been having a really good week on the whole. My new job is perfect (except not being full time), I had some other good news, and the weather has been great.

I've also been hearing a lot about people talking about me. I'm upset. It never feels good to have people saying nasty (and inaccurate) things about you behind your back. Then I thought about who could have been saying these things and would have chosen to say them in such a way.

Oh, right! I cut that person out of my life a while ago and this is exactly why. My point has been proven at least 10 times over. I know I made the right choice. There is not a doubt in my mind. But I also know that from the outside it looks very different, and that is why I can't let it go. Rather than talk to me, people talked about me with someone who I'd barely spoken to in months, and whose own personal life choices have been far, far less than stellar.

To this person, all the things he has said about me, and anyone else who may have aided him in this venture intentionally, or not, I say this:

I am brilliant. I am extremely talented, I'm pretty, I am honest, and I am far more kind to others than I am to myself. I didn't drink until I was 21 and I will never do drugs. I won concerto competitions when I was 13 and 17. I win 75% of the auditions I choose to take. My AP scores in high school? 3, 3, 4, 4, 5. I can pitch a softball at 60 mph. I was on varsity by my sophomore year. I was in the senior choir sophomore year. I played a song I wrote in front of my entire school freshman year for the talent show. They loved it. They wouldn't stop cheering for a solid minute and a half when I went on stage the next year, athankyouverymuch. I wrote a 240 page webcomic. I can paint like woah. My cat? She fucking loves me. My family? Crazy, but amazing. Best brothers on the face of the planet. I stood up for my best friend in front of 15 17-year old girls one summer. Her mother will love me forever. I am hilarious. I graduated cum laude with my BM at 22. I have 1 homework assignment, 1 short final, and my exit exam left before I graduate with my MM at 25, so stop telling people to pity me because I "didn't graduate on time." I'm a hell of a lot more accomplished than 90% of the people I know are involved in this and I have a lot more to be proud of and happy about than any of you even know.

Ya'll can stfu. Thanks.

Aaaaaand, we're done. :)

I have an interview today!
Plus I'm walking that adorable dog!
Plus I had a great date with a really, really cute guy last night. Hope he likes me back. For reals, though. :)
And I am going running. It is happening.

EDIT:

Let's not lie, though. I'm not going running, that boy is probably never going to call me again, I feel super crappy right now because the delicious, delicious food I got on said date was also super heavy and I'm being petty-pissy because someone I offered a favor to is now taking that and using it as license to be less polite than strictly necessary. People being less polite than strictly necessary may be my greatest anger inducer and the root of all my problems. Maybe.
Just sayin'.

This is how things don't get done.

To be fair to myself, I have applied to 6 jobs in the last 24 hours, and I have dog walking and flute teaching happening. On to the story of my life right now:

On the non-productive, slightly agoraphobic side of things, I haven't been getting out much. At all. It's kind of hard to get out when I have no money and I'm awake from 2 PM to 9 AM. By the time I'm ready to go do stuff things are closing. It's also not helpful for my mental state, but that is it's own very special mess. Downward spiral. Let's pretend it's not happening. Moving on.

Now, one of my major life goals is to write, draw, and publish my own comic. This is something I can work on in the wee hours of the morning, so that is what I did last night. Thing is, I like to research. If I'm gonna do this, it is going to be good. So this is how last night went down.

Character idea! Drawn, inked, colored. Bam.
Character needs a name. Find one.
Research themes.
Research main plot device.
Distracted by John Titor and the works of Robert A. Heinlein.
Back on track! Time travel leads to parallel universes, which leads to the chronology of all the games in Zelda video game canon (which brings up more questions than it answers), which leads to the destruction of my greatest fictional childhood crush.
Simultaneously, I am researching Ambien Zombies, because I can't remember anything after I take it. Which leads me to Fatal Familial Insomnia. Crazy things in the world.
Back to comic. Character needs a theme-relevant tattoo.
All the while Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends is running in the background. There is an episode with Cylon carrots. Amazing cartoon gets 20 more amazing points. Am reminded that I am basically Blooregard Q. Kazoo, who, in the real world, would function much like Liz Lemon. Who I also, basically, am.

I am not even going to tell you how sad that last statement just made me.

It's not that I'm not getting things done. It's just that, well, I think we all understand the problems here. Let's leave it and hope this comic ends up being good so I can justify this.

Potential Pet Names:

Dilophasaurus
Malaria
Gallimimus
Stalin
Psychologie (but pronounced like in German)(...puh-sick-oh-loh-gee)
Sypholis (nickname: The Syph)
Copernicus
Butts
Teddy Roosevelt
Ghengis Khan
Roy Mustang
Captain Forbes Thor Kiddoo
Emporer Norton (Protector of Mexico) <-- By the way, if I ever open a pub, it will be The Emporer Norton. It will have Skee-Ball, cider, and so much* delicious food. Yes. You saw correctly. I am going to open a pub that serves dim sum, sushi, donuts, and every other fried monstrosity imaginable. Don't tell me about the logistics of that kind of food service combined with a bar and arcade and possible bowling alley! I won't hear it!

There's going to be a velociraptor pen in the back.

...


Life will find a way.


...


I forget what I was talking about.

Also, I think this may be the right medication for me? It also may really, really not be. I'm having a hard time telling if I'm being way more ADD or way less. It's possible Prozac negatively affects maturity levels...I'm unclear on this...

Also, also...it's possible I am a boy on the inside. Badass historical figures, infectious diseases, dinosaurs, and Butts. I really don't know how this happened. At least I didn't put this one down. But I giggled. A lot. And I could have put down about twenty more diseases, like Tetanus or Hemorrhoid. Or Cancer. I think I'll name my bunny Cancer. Of the prostate. By the way, don't google image search "worst disease." I'm pretty morbid, but that was just a bad idea, and now I can't look away.

* Yes, you do see a flower made of salmon.

Things that are making me happy right this second

I'm probably going to change my mind about all of these things in two hours, BUT:

I've been contemplating and researching future unrealistic purchases, such as a kitten: Scottish Fold, or a bunny: Tan. Sabie needs a friend and the crazy pet lady within me is fighting violently to get out. Luckily, my lack of funds is preventing me from purchasing either of these. Potential reward of bunny/kitten is, however, a great motivator in my job search.

I am not becoming morbidly obese! While I am completely out of shape, every time I am bold enough to put on one of my smaller fitting outfits, this fear (okay, it's sort of a paranoia) is disproved. Then I go eat more Nutella. Because yes, that's right, I bought Nutella. I never buy Nutella. You know why? Because I eat ALL OF IT. It is the most delicious thing I have, and will ever in the entirety of my purportedly expected 70-80 year long life, experience. I pretty much had Nutella every single day of the four months I lived in London. It was a major contributor to my "HolyshitI'meatingNutellastraightoutofthejarI'msuchafatty" panic which was in turn a great contributor to my actually losing some weight and vowing never to let myself eat like a rabid gingerbread man zombie-cannibal again. After three years of refusing to buy it, I caved. It will be gone soon, and I will be able to be less concerned about my obesity-paranoia, but that Nutella has made me so happy every time I have put it on any of the following things this week: bread, brownies, chocolate chip cookies, tortilla chips (I ran out of everything else...) and, of course, straight. Guilty, but happy.

Yesterday Liesl and I made bacon wrapped asparagus, drank beer, watched Dr. Who, walked up to Fort Funston, and went hot tubbing yesterday. Not in that order. And that is how a girls' day should be done.

The only I've spent in the last week was on groceries. Granted, that's because my days have mostly been spent on Craigslist (I need a joooooooooob) and Reddit, but my social outings have consisted of girls day with Liesl, extremely drunk brother hangouts at Ocean Beach, and father's day cookout. Oh. Wait. I also bought two beers out with old coworkers. Totally acceptable, though, as I haven't seen those people in months. This also means I've been cooking a lot, which is awesome. It also, less awesomely, means my house guest has seen the extent of my cooking abilities, and the oddities of my eating habits. Spring roll wrappers are the new bread. Don't judge me.

Reddit is amazing, my cat is fucking cute and super snuggly, chocolate chip cookies and Nutella tastes like CHRISTMAS, Chatroulette is hilarious, the dress I wore to my brother's high school graduation when I was 14 still fits perfectly, I'm going to sushi with at least two of my favorite people in a few hours, and I HAVE ART MOTIVATIONS AGAIN!

Evidence:















My brother and his fiance are going to be so excited when they see their wedding present next month:













I even framed it.

It's red white and blue because love is made of red. And she's Jewish. I was going to write something about pigs and Yamakas, but I would like to meet my hopeful future nieces and/or nephews (no pressure, really, I'm cool with the hairless cat, too) at some point, so maybe I won't.

And oh holy Jesus, my life will not be complete without this shirt.

I have never been less worried about what people who read my blog will think of me when they see this post. Bizarre, random, anxiety ridden self-deprecation is life. :)

EDIT: I may just settle for a fish named Calamity Jane. She will have googly eyes.

Common Innapropriate Behavior

[I'm supposed to be writing down my anxieties so that I can think straight (and sleep). I was going to make a mildly humorous quiz about acceptable behavior as a human being (to deflect, and sound less whiny), and then I started adding old stuff that people did that, let's face it, I am still pretty pissed about when it does come up. And then I still felt whiny so I stopped listing things and just started analyzing myself again. ...which is kind of the opposite of the point.]

Like Meg McBlogger, I have a problem with grudges. I'm not proud of the fact, but it will probably never change. However, also like Meg, who follows her own patented Make it Right Theory, if some form of recompense occurs (in the form of an apology), the grudge will fade. I can continue to be upset about the events that transpired, but as long as I know you understand why I was upset, I will get over it.*

Unfortunately, it can be difficult to tell what "angry" is with me until you've actually seen it. There's tired, frustrated, stressed, irritated, just generally pissy, and then there is legitimate, directed anger. They're all basically the same in that I want to be left alone. If I'm actually angry with someone, I have to be completely sure that whatever happened was not okay by conventional standards.

It's hard to tell the difference in a lot of my moods, especially who or what they are directed at or caused by, I know. But rest assured, if I am really, really pissed, you will know. About one (resolved) incident, my brother said, "I hope you were cold, because when you're cold, you're cold."

I felt like a badass.

PS Except mostly it just means I pretend you don't exist.
It's like being demoted below stranger status.
Dishonorably discharged from mah life. BAM.
That's what I'm going to call it from now on. A dishonorable discharge.

PPS I put too much vanilla in my cookie dough and now it smells like booze.

In an attempt to be positive I've started a few creative projects to either 1. make people smile, or 2. help/encourage people. I've been brainstorming on things that do either of those.

The thing is, what prompted me to do this was the thought that I never do anything for anyone else (implied: because I'm a horrid selfish narcissistic bitch of a girl who never follows through and ruins everything for everyone with my bad attitude and worse life skills).

I started thinking more about that.
And then I realized it was B.S.

I do lots of things for people!
I do also tend to complain about a lot, and get upset and confused about things in general, which sometimes spoils the good things I do, but that initial intention is there, and is usually followed through on (which is the thing that surprised me when I realized it). The afterward is where the niceness tends to go away, but that is another issue (called disillusionment)(...and debatably "too high" moral and civil standards...very debatably).

Point being, I need to give myself more credit. I also need to learn to do the right/nice things without necessarily expecting the reward of other people doing the same in return, or having the same idea of what "nice" or "right" is. Or a thank you.

So I'm giving myself credit for all the good things I did today, and for being the me I want to be (which happens far less than I'd like to admit). I'm trying to forget the things I did or thought today that made me less than proud, and I'm trying to convince myself that "not being amazingly perfect, amiable, and entertaining at all times" does not fall under the category of "things I'm allowed to beat myself up over." To be honest, I'm still not convinced of that, but the list is pretty long, so maybe I can just pretend I don't see it on there for a while.

Can't sleep.

Again. Or ever.

I just want sleepies. Why can't I have the sleepies? At a normal hour, that is. Because I've got the 6 am-2 pm shift DOWN. And then I am sleepy all afternoon and evening. And then I finally get in my bed, exhausted, and no. 4 hours later (with prescription assistance, I might add); nothing. NOTHING. Relaxation videos: nothing. All manner of tossing and turning. And it's not that I'm not tired. I am really, really, really tired. So very, very many yawns.

The 6-2 sleep schedule is not a good one. It's not deep sleep, because there is tons of light and I'm constantly waking up to make sure I'm on time to whatever it is that I have probably already missed, and every part of my body has definitely voted unanimously that it doesn't count.

I need a massage desperately. But I also don't want anyone to touch me, at all. Either way I can't relax, which means I can't get any sleep. SAD FACE AND AGGRAVATION.

Self chastisement + goose!

Velociraptor-goose tale!

In an effort to lessen my hermit tendencies by actually being able to have people over, I WILL be cleaning my apartment tomorrow. FOR REAL. Now I must do it because IT IS WRITTEN.

Note to self, when you start dicking around on the internet at appointed cleaning time:
YOU! Stop it. Your apartment is gross, like woah. The only acceptable alternative to cleaning is FINDING A DAMN JOB. Which does not mean looking at hilarious Craigslist personal ads or postings for free things. If you are not actively sending out or editing resumes, it does not count.

CLEAN OR GET MONEYS OR NO MORE ZOMBIE KILLING FOR YOU. ULTIMATUM ENFORCEMENT.

Oh, astrology.

Do I believe in astrology? No.
Do I still find it a fascinating subject, especially at 2:30 in the morning when I can't sleep because I already did that...all day long? Yes!

Do I find it absolutely hilarious just how much I coincidentally fit under my own sign? For reals, yo.

I think it's pretty safe to say that I hold a grudge. Rull bad. Make a comment about my personal life that I find less than flattering, especially when I didn't ask your damn opinion? We're probably not friends anymore. Actually do something that in some way offends me (ya'll know what I'm talking about)? Oh, you will rue the day. And how.

Until I realize I'm WAY overreacting and get over it, that is. Several months later. Usually.

But yeah, that's pretty much what I understand to be the definition of a scorpio lady: totally sweet until you do something she doesn't like, in which case she becomes a heinous bitch.

So, my favorite astrological research is sign compatibility. I had a friend who's mother did horoscopes for a living and took this stuff very seriously. So seriously that star charts had to be done for her and her boyfriend to make sure it was an acceptable match. Ridic. I know.

These are my favorite bits about scorpio compatibility with various signs, according to this site:

Taurus:
"When It’s Over: There will be Brinkmanship. There will be hell to pay. There will be a pound of flesh extracted revenge, grudge f****** and paybacks galore. This pair does everything to excess and breaking up is no exception. It’s too bad about their children and other innocent bystanders."

Aries:
"Progression of Relationship: Balls to the wall."

Gemini:
"This couple is full of surprises, some of them scary, and some of them really scary."

"Can you imagine the circumlocution and posturing necessary to accomplish anything? Each one of them is like a double agent trying to figure out what kind of double agent the other one is."

"Degree of Passion: Unfortunately the passion in this relationship may be the tumultuous emotions of Scorpio when she feels betrayed or slighted. Ms. Scorpio is famous for her rage and vindictiveness. Do not mess with her, Monkey Man. You're likely to lose your tail. And another thing, Gemini, we know how much you love to mess around, but you have no idea the dark forces that will be unleashed if you mess around on this lady. At the very least, she will personally key your brand new Lexus. What happens after that will make that look good. No really."

"Degree of Friendship: Are you kidding? Friends don't key friends' cars."

"Gemini, whatever little tricks you have up your sleeve, you might find your arm in the alley back behind your house."

"Progression of Relationship: Gemini, do not mess around with her on any level. If you prize your kneecaps, get down on them and stay there. It is best to give this woman what she wants -- and act like you like it. By the way, there is no place for your Evil Twin in this relationship. And why is that? Because your Evil Twin is unbelievably naïve (I hate to be the one to tell you)."

Aquarius:
"What happens when the Mad Scientist meets Dr. Frankenstein?"

Virgo:
"When It’s Over: Scorpio has a reputation for bad endings, like the 3rd act of a Verdi opera."

Apparently I really shouldn't date a gemini. And no one should date me. I should just wrap myself in caution tape next time I go out.

GAH.

This really isn't any better than posting this on facebook, but there are far, far fewer people who will read it, and I just really, really need to in some way announce it to the general public, but I would rather not be a total jerk about it (a little bit of a jerk, yeah, that's sort of okay, in this case).

If someone asks you not to contact them, repeatedly, and in many different ways, including making every attempt to actually prevent you from doing so (ie internet blocking), you should really, really, no, really, NOT SEND THEM AN EMAIL.

I don't care how nice of an email it is. I really don't. Really. Really, really, really.
Just leave me alone.

I DO know!

I have written and rewritten everything I've been trying to say about 15 times. Then I figured it out;

I hate that the only reason I disappoint the people in my life is that I get so disappointed in myself.

If I am given point A, and told to get to point B using the materials given, I will do it, no matter how many times you tell me I can't. I have known point B for a very long time. I just found point A.

This might take some time.













Meanwhile, Sabie was being sweet for a minute and I caught it on camera. YES.

I don't know

There are so many things I could write about right now. So many things I am confused about, so many things I have been processing. I am being incredibly fickle, and I want to write about all of it, but it would not be interesting or good, and I don't even know where to start. So I am just going to give it a few more days, and leave this post with two quotable moments from the other night that have been making me laugh all day.

B: "What are those wild horses called?"
J: "Oh, you mean centaurs?"

L: (talking about his own family) "...and it's like beaner, beaner, beaner, beaner, wetback."

Serious time. Booo!

No one really reads this, right? Good.

If at any point in reading this you feel urged toward pity (or are just annoyed), please just click away. I may very well delete it later anyway, but my evening has consisted of Netflix and McDonalds, neither of which I was that into, both of which I was too down to really care about. I'm not looking for sympathy or advice or attention, just a more productive form of grief.

Sometimes I get sad. It doesn't have to do with things that are currently happening (most of the time). It has to do with things that A. probably never will happen, B. have happened in the past that I had no control over or fault in, and C. I am imagining to be happening that absolutely have not occurred (Why, yes. Yes, I am a little bit crazy. I make up things to upset myself. It's awesome).

(Relevant) Tangent: And then, of course, I do what I'm doing right now, which is to start rationalizing these thoughts. Because I was just about to write (in all seriousness) something along the lines of "except sometimes the horrible things I'm imagining are happening, but no one is telling me because they don't want me to know (that they hate me)." The good thing is that I know this is a completely irrational and paranoid way of thinking, and being able to recognize that helps me to ignore it. The bad thing is that I still do it. The really bad thing is what happens when, inevitably, one of the thousand awful things I have come up with (or haven't even managed to come up with yet) actually happens. Let's not even go there (Aaand I just did it again).

Anyway (I have been writing and rewriting this for the past two hours - extremely helpful, but after a seven hour bike ride plus sunburn and an early start tomorrow, I am exhausted. That and I am starting to think I'm sharing maybe a little too much...? It's hard to tell, what with the paranoia), the point is that this happens when I let myself think too much, so I have been doing everything in my power not to think, which means I have to constantly be working on something, completely engrossed in whatever else I can find to do, or not fully conscious. This is much, much better than the alternative, but it backfires when I end up not taking care of myself, physically or emotionally. Basically, I'm exhausted in every sense, and the way I do this to myself is stupid, and now I'm just whining, but at least I spent the last two hours focused on writing and maybe I understand a little better now so I'm just a little closer to making it stop.

I do have fun things to post about. Just no pictures right this second. Santa Cruz tomorrow! :)

Oh, Beethoven.

Firstly, you know you're a classical musician when every time you see this street sign;










your brain shouts, "Eroica!" Because your brain doesn't work properly in a very particular way.

Secondly, my party was awesome.

Thirdly, Sunday went from dim sum day to bonfire day real quick, and was pretty excellent.

And fourthly, today was pretty excellent, too, for no particular reason. :)

Oh Friday

It's the end of a very long and yet, somehow very short week. Sunday was yesterday. I swear.

My recital is two weeks away, which is mildly stressful. And is making me be ever so slightly more moody than I (I am becoming increasingly more aware) already am.

That said, if you have a class, or a rehearsal, or whatever, in a room in which someone else is currently having a rehearsal, please, I am begging you, just wait. If they start to run over your time, sure, come in and politely explain the situation. I'm sure they won't mind. But if you have class in fifteen or twenty minutes, you can wait. Really. It is so incredibly unnerving to have someone just walk in on the tail end of your rehearsal/lesson and start talking and setting up as if you aren't even there. Please be more considerate than that.

(And I'm pretty sure that's not my moodiness talking.)

Party! Tomorrow/technically today! I made Irish Creme Cupcakes! I had to drive to five different places at 12:30 am to locate some Bailey's for the recipe I had already started making because...apparently at least one of my friends is sneaking alcohol? Or something?
I don't know. All I do know is that last time I checked, the bottle of Bailey's I did have was full. I don't remember anyone drinking any, despite my urgings, it hasn't left its spot on the windowsill, and it is now miraculously empty.

I also now know that neither liquor store down the street or the closest Safeway are open after midnight, and 7-11 does not carry Bailey's, all of which is good information to have. So thank you, secret Bailey's thief, for teaching me something so very early on this fine Saturday morning. Also, I am very impressed with just how sneaky you are. Or possibly how thoroughly I forgot this happening. Seriously, a whole bottle? How did I miss this? Mystery! Intrigue!

And who yelled my name out of their car when I was walking down Ocean on Saturday?! Red car, white male, definitely knew me. Who was this? I am so confused.

Come eat cupcakes and paninis and bacon-wrapped asparagus with me tomorrow! I'll tell you more about how baffling things are! It will be good fun.

Adventure Day(s) (condensed version): Golden Gate Bridge, Berkeley, Fruitvale BART Station...?

I've been busy. Doing things.

I went to the bridge! It was very pretty, and very windy. Windy enough for the bay to steal my scarf, in fact. Jerk.

















I also took a drive through the Berkeley hills with Joel, who is awesome, and totally let me drag him around Berkeley all day because I can never remember where Sweetheart's Cafe is, and sometimes a person just really needs crispy squid on a stick and a chocolate milkshake with tapioca pearls.

Then I made a velociraptor mask out of manila folders and staples (plus paint). It's AMAZING.
Here it is on friend-Sarah, who totally rocks it, and who I totally forgot to ask if I could put her picture up here, but who is also totally unidentifiable, so I think it's okay :














And here it is on me:















I have wanted to make this thing for years (specifically for my recital poster, not just for general wearing, I swear). Was never really sure how to do it, though. The manila envelopes inspired me. Office supplies are my artistic medium of choice, it seems.

I officially started my knitting "business," having put up order forms in the school of music. I've only had one order thus far, though, and that was only because I grabbed the first person I saw who I knew wanted something and basically demanded she validate my work immediately fill it out at her liesure.

And then I had an impromptu adventure day retrieving my car from Alameda, where it was left after an excellent night previous which may have ended with me slightly more than slightly inebriated. Really glad Mollie suggested getting a cab from Fruitvale rather than walking the 1.5 miles to my car, because even in the middle of the day, it turns out, that station is creepy as hell. I had precisely eight dollars. Good thing that's exactly how much it cost. :D

And today I practiced. And practiced some more. And then some more. And then I kinda freaked out a little because I am so not ready for this recital, and I'm way oversensitive to just about every comment ever, anyway, and let's just say the FSU practice rooms are far superior to the SFSU practice rooms when it comes to dignity preservation in minor breakdown situations. Stupid windows.

So I watched some other people play some other music, and then I got some sushi, and then I went home and sort of fell asleep when I told myself I wouldn't because I really need to clean, then I woke up and actually cleaned...a little, and now I'm watching Dirty Jobs and contemplating In-n-out, and not cleaning some more. Good Friday, overall, I'd say.

Mitts and things

I love my fingerless mitts.










Really, I do. They have some problems, but I love them anyway.

Also, my semi-matching button scarf.











I had new business cards made, as well, but I'm pretty sure everyone who would possibly read this has one, so no pictures necessary there.
And I played some CPE Bach at Classical Revolution tonight. It was good times. Too bad I'm usually busy on Wednesday nights. :(

Barbershop

I accompanied my friend Joel to the barbershop today, and I just have to say that it was amazing. Because, let me tell you, this was a legitimate barbershop. As in that movie Barbershop. There were signs telling people not to curse, and to keep an eye on their own children. Amazing.
I have never been around that many phenomenally loud and hilarious people at one time, and their parting words were, "You come back anytime you want, sweetheart, but leave him at the bus stop."

So. Much. Fun.

Gift scarves!

I finished three scarves this week - all gifts for friends of mine.

A green one with faux cables of my own
(very simple) design for Jeremy. ---->
(I'll put up a picture of him
wearing it once I get one.)

<--A red/brown/green basketweave for Ben.

And a brown neckwarmer
(like the pink one I made for myself)
for Karolyn, who is off in Oregon
at the moment.--->

I got that fifty bucks from Stanford for my brain scan. The invoice says "human subject reimbursement."

Oh, and I put in notice at my job. Last day? Thursday. Thank goodness. I have six ensembles right now, all unpaid, but all beneficial to my repertoire and career. It was a decent job, and I will have to budget better, but maybe I'll actually get some paying gigs if I make myself find them. 'Cause right now, the unpaid ones will not stop coming. Which is awesome. That is in no way sarcastic. It's awesome.

And I'm taking the CBEST in eight hours. Good. Night.

Adventure Day: Colma Edition

Today I woke up and thought, "I want to have an adventure!" My first thought was to go check out the Golden Gate Bridge and be all touristy and what not, but then I remembered that my most recent Netflix acquisition is a documentary called The Bridge. Maaaaybe not today.

Instead, I went to visit my dead grandparents! Jazz hands!

To make this more of an actual adventure, I decided to use what a friend of mine once described as The Jenna Method™, in which I know the general direction and possibly the name of the place I am attempting to reach, and then I just kind of...go. Success rate ≠ 100%. In this case the general direction was "all those graves on the peninsula" and I didn't have the name of the specific place (other than it might have the word "veteran" in it), until I got to Colma, ran out of ideas, gave in and called my mom. Turns out it's in San Bruno, not Colma, but when I think of cemeteries, I think of Colma, and so should you.

So I get to the place (Golden Gate National Cemetary), and there's really no other way to react to huge plots of graves than; "Huh, that's a lot of dead people." 'Cause really? That is a lot of dead people.

I thought maybe I would just wander in the direction I remember from the one time I was here, oh, ten years ago, and then I thought a little better and went to visit the Gravesite Locator:

What?! YES. Computerized Gravesite Locator. I had no idea the dead were so technologically advanced. Awesome.

Not only that, but it's a touch screen.

Except it didn't actually do anything when I touched it.
How oddly appropriate.

And so, on to more traditional methods: Apparently, plot numbers do not go either up or down here (they go both at the same time). So, after walking the better part of the way around the main hill, I found the marker I was looking for in the very front. Way to be, me.

I didn't bring any flowers...not exactly my thing. I basically snapped a picture, said hello (to the slab of stone, yes), and went on my way.

That was pretty much it, but it was good to finally do something I've been meaning to for at least the last 6 months or so.

Oh, and:

What. The. Hell. School of Music and Dance?! Don't give a person a recital date and then jack it from them later because you are unorganized and full of terrible "new systems" that in fact do not work at all.

Rant done (Edit: and I also now have a more thorough understanding of said (still stupid, though) systems, which work slightly differently than I thought when I first wrote this). The end.

YES.

Dr. Who Scarf. Finished.
BAM.

What's that? It's not 5 million miles long like I kept swearing it would be? ...Yeah, I know. I've let you down.

I realized when I tried it on (still on the needles) that if it got any longer it would, in fact, be so ridiculous that I would not be able to wear it...as much as ridiculousness is kind of my favorite thing ever and was totally the point.

I had to face the fact that I actually wanted to wear this scarf, and it is super, super thick and warm, and it really did not need to get any longer. Also, I trip over myself enough as it is. I really don't need any more help with that, thanks.

So, it's done! And I've been getting lots of very genuine compliments, which kind of surprised me, because, honestly, I've seen plenty a prettier scarf. And yes, it has been tripping me anyway. But I haven't actually fallen down yet, so I think that's a win for me.

Oh, yeah, and remember how I said this would be a cooking week? NO. Just no. There will be a cooking week. Probably several. Just not until opera is over.

I have had time for reading, though. And have decided that this woman is quite possibly my soulmate, for various reasons.

Aaaaand then there's Sabie.
She's getting pretty fat.
It's a work in progress.

I finally did some arts!

I have not been able to do arts for quite some time.

I love drawing, and writing comics, but I usually end up thinking whatever I draw isn't good enough, which is disheartening. Thus, four little sketches are kind of exciting for me.

Why, yes, I do love that hat. Thanks for asking. :3

Also, yes, I do use pictures of myself for reference and practice. It's not so much vanity as it is way easier than finding other references.


And then I did an "abstract" painting. Quotes
because I won't pretend to know anything about real art. I did put some thought into it, but it didn't take a whole lot of actual time. And, let me just say, I hate that paint never comes out dry like it does wet.

It's not quite what I intended, but it's close.

Don't worry. I usually paint actual stuff.

And here is my ongoing knitting project:


The Dr. Who scarf. Circa Tom Baker (70's-80's). I'm not planning to make it full sized, but it will probably end up about twice this long...and it's as tall as me already (5'7"). I think this counts as one of those "larger" projects.

Other than that (and working, and jogging), I've been watching Wonderfalls again. It's no Dr. Who, but I can't deny that it will always be a favorite. If you liked Dead Like Me or Pushing Daisies, this is by the same guy, and features some of the same actors (Lee Pace, anyone? Yeah, I thought so).


I think this coming week is going to be a cooking adventures week. Expect burnt kitchen ware.

You're just jealous.

Of my amazing cat hat:


Don't worry, I won't tell anyone.
As long as you don't tell them how remarkably difficult it is to take a picture of yourself encompassing both anthropomorphic kitty ears and dangly pom-poms.

Rest assured, I will be wearing this hat all possible hours of the day for at least a week. You will have plenty of chances to mock me. And I won't care.

Because I have a cat hat.

:D


Pattern found here, not that I exactly followed it, per se...

Hat 1.0

I finished a hat today. My first one.
...It's kind of ugly.

Turns out brown/green/tan multicolored yarn ends up looking like camo. Who'd have thought?

However, it does fit absolutely perfectly, and I put a button on it, so it's better.


I do actually like it, but I have a feeling I will less so upon making something cuter.

Pattern found here.

...just not today...

Actually, I did do quite a bit of stuff today. But I didn't finish anything...

Except watching all four seasons of the current Dr. Who.

Yes. It totally counts as pictorial evidence. And yes, my computer screen is (apparently) that dirty.

David Tennant is amazing, and I highly recommend you waste just as much time as I did watching this amazing show.

...since the new year started.

Let's start with the coolest one: I got my brain scanned.

I qualified to volunteer for a psychological study and got to hang out in an MRI for two hours. They showed me some pictures, I pushed some buttons and fell asleep several times, and eventually they'll send me a check. Oh Craigslist, the things you come up with.

And now I have pictures of my brain!







The study will be published in about a year (the middle one is my favorite, because it is the most creepy and weird).

Then I took up knitting! Err, re-took up knitting, I suppose. I learned a very long time ago and was never very good at it. But I love scarves...a lot...and I really needed a new hobby, so I gave it another shot. So far I only have one finished product; a pink ribbed scarf with a hole in it to loop through. There may or may not be a few extra holes... Luckily, none of the flaws are very noticeable.


You can find the pattern here if you are craftily inclined:
http://alison.knitsmiths.us/pattern_beginners_scarves.html

Likewise on the crafty side of things, I had some fun with paperclips and masking tape at work. I then took my masterpiece home, fixed the inaccurate bits, added a few details from my craft box, and spray painted the crap out of it.

I have been watching a lot of Dr. Who, and I may be going just a teensy bit overboard... Wait till you see that knitting project.

(It's a Dalek, sworn enemy of the Doctor, for those of you not in the know. They like to exterminate things. A lot.)

My cat has also been quite busy. Mostly trying to destroy things. Maybe she's a Dalek, too.

...and now I'm going to tell you about it.

I've had a rough couple of months.
A rough, oh, six months, let's say.
And I really don't want to talk about it. Or think about it. Or anything.
Because the more I talk, or think, the worse things seem to get.

Thus, my strategy:
I would, in fact, very much like to just turn off my brain. The best way I can think to do that is to do some stuff. And then I'd like to tell people about that stuff. 'Cause really, one of the best parts of doing stuff is telling people about it later.

Clearly, I'm not going to be doing anything particularly grandiose. And I'm definitely not saying this is recommended reading. Put simply; I am going to do some stuff, take some pictures, and write it down. Do with it what you will.

A few stipulations as to this stuff I am planning to do:
1. Anything posted must be a finished thing; something that I have already done, unless it is a particularly elaborate project which must be done in multiple parts.
2. Everything posted must be evidenced graphically in some way. 'Cause I like pictures, and you should, too.
3. I will make an effort to do odd or interesting things whenever possible. It's just better that way. Plus I'm totally awkward, so putting myself in additionally awkward situations will be that much more entertaining.

With the third rule in mind, I have to admit that I will be doing a lot of cooking and knitting. Not fascinating, no, but I am a pretty terrible cook and I just started knitting, so that should make for a lot of pictures of burnt things and holey scarves. If nothing else, it will be very schadenfreude.