Thought for the day: (Having come home to a dead torrent download of Bleach 17) Am I the only one seeding? What the hell, people. This stuff doesn't steal itself....
Vindication: I thought, maybe, it was me. According to my guitar tuner, I always tune my strings on the sharp end of the note, so I thought maybe I was too sharp, that I was hearing things wrong. No, that's not it. I talked with the choral director. I'm on. My fellow bass, Jeremy, however, is flat as Kate Moss. It's been driving me nuts, and now that I've been assured it's not me, I'm ready to rant.
Stark raving mad. He always is cupping his hand to his ear when he sings, and before I sang with him I thought he was just full of himself and that he was being a perfectionist. Well, he's full of himself, but now I think the hand-cupping is more necessary than I once thought. I just wish he sounded better when he did it. I keep pushing my chair away from him hoping that maybe if I turn my head the right way I won't hear him so much. His interval jumps come from Bumfuck, Nowhere. The worst part is that I'm not fully confident in sight reading these new pieces, so he's pulling me down with him. I just can't stand it, it's painful. Sometimes I try to go sharp to balance it, and that's all wrong too. Another beef: not in the choir nor the chamber ensemble is there anyone willing to sing out. Everyone is singing like they thought they had signed up for Biology. I hate my voice unless I'm singing out, but I'm not brave enough to be the only one that does it. I'm out of practice and exhausted, 
I don't want to be the only one. Disappointing.
Performing as a romantic couple with someone you've dated before: difficult. Act like you're in love. (...) Act like you're bitter exes that just ran into each other at a party (easy enough). Show the chemistry and sexual tension (Way too easy.) Now watch as she goes and flirts with your friend the stage manager. Discard the possibility of making a date with her. Remember not to drink at any cast party; alcohol is not going to be your friend tonight.
As it is never the will of the cosmos to attack only from one front, the Evil Evil Ex (different girl) shares a class with me Mon/Wed/Fri, and I'm so agitated by her mere presence that I can't concentrate. That class isn't going so well....
So for this performance, I cut my hair. Short. It's gotten almost universally rave reviews. You think I'd be feeling this
but the truth is I'm far more something like this 
. Confession: especially lately, but all the time regardless, I desperately crave attention. However, I'm so unused to actually getting it that it's freaking me out. (And I despise the feeling of soliciting attention) I can't receive compliments. I'd love to graciously accept them and bask in the warm glory (forgetting the origin of their enthusiasm is thinking I looked like shit before [manifestation of self-loathing over attention whoring: self-deprecation, half truth.]) but I don't know how to deal with this sudden flood. It's overwhelming, I'm too used to being low-profile (...quaint euphemism for "unloved"?). I cut my hair because I wanted a change for myself, and it felt like a great change at first, and it's great that people are calling me attractive, but I can't even allow myself to enjoy that. A good thing has ended up erecting social obstacles and pushing my self-esteem down even further. This was supposed to help it!
Fuck it. The truth is that cutting my hair was supposed to be a self-destructive release. I can't bring myself to cut (healing, scars...scars especially. I'm actually reasonably private in my suffering, I hate broadcasting it. Scars are just too permanent and visible. Why add to emotional pain with physical?) but I wish I could. I feel really self-destructive right now. Really worthless, unloved.I hate my life right now. I wish I could magically do a 180, or a 90, or even a 47.2 degree change, whatever, just a drastic change from how things are now. It's stagnant, I'm not doing new, exciting things, I'm not meeting new challenges, new people, no new women (so that point is fully emphasized), it sucks. I want to drink of life, but it seems like I'm just recycling my own urine. I took rock climbing this semester, and I haven't even tied in to climb yet. I thought taking it as a PE credit would springboard me back into the hobby and let me develop my skills, but it's not going as I thought it would. We climb only once a week, so by the end of this I won't have learned hardly a thing. There's T'ai Chi, but my pride raises the hair on my neck as Lynn, Guru Know-It-All/Compulsive liar tries to correct me on my forms (I took T'ai Chi once already, and I've watched her practice forms; I could teach her more than a thing or two, and I resent her for trying to put herself above me. Then, I resent myself for my own arrogance. Catholic upbringing, abusive role models and authority, The Man: I thank you all for your lessons in Humility. It is a powerful social tool to keep me down.) Music theory and ear training seem to be the only places for growth, and my depression has a hold of me so well that I am getting behind in those classes.
The only breath of fresh air in a long while is going to be the Mudvayne concert this Sunday. I haven't been to any show in too long. I only hope I won't be too exhausted to enjoy it.
One of the things that pisses me off most about the hair thing is that so far the only person who's had any dissenting opinion is my friend with the long hair fetish who's giving me dirty looks (Fair and Balanced
) Feels like people are feeding me that social ettiquette bullshit, "Whoa! You cut your hair! :ohhhhh, gotta end this conversation, gotta end this conversation...: ...I like it!" I can't stand that crap. Be honest. Is it really possible that everyone unanimously agrees I look better with short hair? Maybe, but I doubt it. I'd feel better if there some actual variety in feedback.
Ditto with acting in the one acts. In singing too. Hell, in everything, if you're in a position to intelligently criticize, let me know. I am not the greatest singer in the world. SOMEBODY HAD to have noticed AT LEAST ONE line I messed up! The director who has been passive aggressive with me the whole time tells me I did a "Great job!" Fuck that, you know better. I know you know better. I don't know of too many people that grow from the 'favor' of having smoke blown up their ass. Be real.
Vindication: I thought, maybe, it was me. According to my guitar tuner, I always tune my strings on the sharp end of the note, so I thought maybe I was too sharp, that I was hearing things wrong. No, that's not it. I talked with the choral director. I'm on. My fellow bass, Jeremy, however, is flat as Kate Moss. It's been driving me nuts, and now that I've been assured it's not me, I'm ready to rant.
Stark raving mad. He always is cupping his hand to his ear when he sings, and before I sang with him I thought he was just full of himself and that he was being a perfectionist. Well, he's full of himself, but now I think the hand-cupping is more necessary than I once thought. I just wish he sounded better when he did it. I keep pushing my chair away from him hoping that maybe if I turn my head the right way I won't hear him so much. His interval jumps come from Bumfuck, Nowhere. The worst part is that I'm not fully confident in sight reading these new pieces, so he's pulling me down with him. I just can't stand it, it's painful. Sometimes I try to go sharp to balance it, and that's all wrong too. Another beef: not in the choir nor the chamber ensemble is there anyone willing to sing out. Everyone is singing like they thought they had signed up for Biology. I hate my voice unless I'm singing out, but I'm not brave enough to be the only one that does it. I'm out of practice and exhausted, I don't want to be the only one. Disappointing.
Performing as a romantic couple with someone you've dated before: difficult. Act like you're in love. (...) Act like you're bitter exes that just ran into each other at a party (easy enough). Show the chemistry and sexual tension (Way too easy.) Now watch as she goes and flirts with your friend the stage manager. Discard the possibility of making a date with her. Remember not to drink at any cast party; alcohol is not going to be your friend tonight.
As it is never the will of the cosmos to attack only from one front, the Evil Evil Ex (different girl) shares a class with me Mon/Wed/Fri, and I'm so agitated by her mere presence that I can't concentrate. That class isn't going so well....
So for this performance, I cut my hair. Short. It's gotten almost universally rave reviews. You think I'd be feeling this
but the truth is I'm far more something like this . Confession: especially lately, but all the time regardless, I desperately crave attention. However, I'm so unused to actually getting it that it's freaking me out. (And I despise the feeling of soliciting attention) I can't receive compliments. I'd love to graciously accept them and bask in the warm glory (forgetting the origin of their enthusiasm is thinking I looked like shit before [manifestation of self-loathing over attention whoring: self-deprecation, half truth.]) but I don't know how to deal with this sudden flood. It's overwhelming, I'm too used to being low-profile (...quaint euphemism for "unloved"?). I cut my hair because I wanted a change for myself, and it felt like a great change at first, and it's great that people are calling me attractive, but I can't even allow myself to enjoy that. A good thing has ended up erecting social obstacles and pushing my self-esteem down even further. This was supposed to help it!
Fuck it. The truth is that cutting my hair was supposed to be a self-destructive release. I can't bring myself to cut (healing, scars...scars especially. I'm actually reasonably private in my suffering, I hate broadcasting it. Scars are just too permanent and visible. Why add to emotional pain with physical?) but I wish I could. I feel really self-destructive right now. Really worthless, unloved.I hate my life right now. I wish I could magically do a 180, or a 90, or even a 47.2 degree change, whatever, just a drastic change from how things are now. It's stagnant, I'm not doing new, exciting things, I'm not meeting new challenges, new people, no new women (so that point is fully emphasized), it sucks. I want to drink of life, but it seems like I'm just recycling my own urine. I took rock climbing this semester, and I haven't even tied in to climb yet. I thought taking it as a PE credit would springboard me back into the hobby and let me develop my skills, but it's not going as I thought it would. We climb only once a week, so by the end of this I won't have learned hardly a thing. There's T'ai Chi, but my pride raises the hair on my neck as Lynn, Guru Know-It-All/Compulsive liar tries to correct me on my forms (I took T'ai Chi once already, and I've watched her practice forms; I could teach her more than a thing or two, and I resent her for trying to put herself above me. Then, I resent myself for my own arrogance. Catholic upbringing, abusive role models and authority, The Man: I thank you all for your lessons in Humility. It is a powerful social tool to keep me down.) Music theory and ear training seem to be the only places for growth, and my depression has a hold of me so well that I am getting behind in those classes.
The only breath of fresh air in a long while is going to be the Mudvayne concert this Sunday. I haven't been to any show in too long. I only hope I won't be too exhausted to enjoy it.
One of the things that pisses me off most about the hair thing is that so far the only person who's had any dissenting opinion is my friend with the long hair fetish who's giving me dirty looks (Fair and Balanced
) Feels like people are feeding me that social ettiquette bullshit, "Whoa! You cut your hair! :ohhhhh, gotta end this conversation, gotta end this conversation...: ...I like it!" I can't stand that crap. Be honest. Is it really possible that everyone unanimously agrees I look better with short hair? Maybe, but I doubt it. I'd feel better if there some actual variety in feedback.
Ditto with acting in the one acts. In singing too. Hell, in everything, if you're in a position to intelligently criticize, let me know. I am not the greatest singer in the world. SOMEBODY HAD to have noticed AT LEAST ONE line I messed up! The director who has been passive aggressive with me the whole time tells me I did a "Great job!" Fuck that, you know better. I know you know better. I don't know of too many people that grow from the 'favor' of having smoke blown up their ass. Be real.