Monday, January 31, 2011
My 202 prof is definitely a more radical version of Professor Binns. Yes, that Binns. Harry Potter's ghost history teacher. He's who Binns would be if Binns charged his hair with static electricity, changed into jeans, and started making his students take turns saying the word "summer."
(Side note: Can ghosts change their clothes? I will look into that. Oh...survey says "no." Sorry, Prof Binns. At least you can spend your laundromat money on butterbeer.)
Speaking of the laundromat...sometimes I do laundry just because I miss the smell of it. I crave the smell of fabric softener the way I would normally crave chocolate or PBS Kids. Perhaps I am destined to be a laundress. Oh, wait. Reality check. I'm a feminist.
(Side note: "I don't want to be a laundress; I want to be famous!" Anyone? Name that movie. First person to get it right...gets...a shout-out in my next post.)
(Side note the second: That's a terrible prize. Fine, you request a prize. One that can be fulfilled anonymously from within the confines of this blog. Good luck.)
(Side note the third: Now no one wants to identify that quote. It would take longer to think up a prize.)
Recent obsession: 8tracks. I want to make a playlist consisting of all the songs I listen to on the way to class that make me feel like I could conquer the world and all of its problems. And I think I will call this playlist..."All the Songs I Listen to On the Way to Class That Make Me Feel Like I Could Conquer the World and All of Its Problems."
Boom. Did you hear that? It was the sound of dynamite.
(Side note: Not really, though. I really don't want the Patriot Act to come hammering on my door at all hours of the night.)
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
I watched "The Social Network" twice in the last week. Now, whenever I'm blogging, I feel like I should have curly hair, sandals, a bad attitude, and genius programming skills.
(Side note: I don't have a single one of those. Not even sandals. And definitely not skills.)
Speaking of skills, I just realized that "latent" is an anagram for "talent." So...perhaps...we all have a handful of latent talents that could make us rich and famous someday. Maybe I can tame lions or juggle toddlers or something.
(Side note: Why is my concept of cool talents limited to circus tricks? There is some hidden meaning here.)
Today in my ethnomusicology class—yeah, it's for real—one of the topics we discussed is music's role in identifying people in/and society. And…this stuff might sound obvious to some people, but when you really think about it…it’s kind of mind-blowing material. And, no, I am not talking about this to sound pretentious. It's just kind of fascinating.
Music = You know. Just…yes. You know.
Self = Body +Total Set of Habits.
Identity = Partial selection of habits.
Now that we have that covered, we can move into
Music reflects who you are. You can look through someone’s music and make a few educated guesses as to who they are and how they operate. Music is something genuine that you can’t really fake. If you load up your iPod with your fave jams, you really are projecting your personality into a concrete representation.
Music is…flypaper. Or something. Music is not only meaningful because we like the lyrics, the beat, or the adorable guitar player. We attach memories and personal experiences to different songs/albums/artists. (Although adorable guitarists don’t hurt.) Seriously, though. I listen to stuff we played in concert band last year and can’t help but remember the experience of making music with my best friends. Which contributes to how much I still love it.
(Side note: Yup. That was really corny.)
Music links directly to emotion. Music is similar to language in many ways—one way being that we give meaning to language/music just as language/music gives meaning to us/what we do/say/feel.
(Side note: Lots/of/backslash/mark/things/get/annoying.)
When you exercise, you listen to pumpin’ club jams because you’re more likely to run faster/work harder. (Or Duke Ellington…but that could just be me.) When you’re walking home after a deep conversation with a buddy, you’re more likely to listen to something subdued/meaningful because it’ll fuel thought. On the other hand, if something subdued comes up on shuffle while you’re on the treadmill, your workout is going to take a hit. If you listen to previously mentioned “pumpin’ club jams” on your way back from your friend’s, you’ll probably get home in half the usual time.
Is this making any sense? I’ve been rambling for way too long. Quite honestly, I don’t know why you’d still be reading at this point.
I don’t understand those asthma commercials that ask us to get rid of the threats to asthmatics. What, am I supposed to throw out all my goose-down pillows and personally ban dust from the natural world? Not to be insensitive or anything.
I need more Sara Bareilles in my life. Maybe she's free for lunch tomorrow.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Even fish yawns are contagious.
Despite the anonymity of this blog, I am going to take a moment to respond to my own Facebook status...as promised.
(Side note: I am a painfully accurate example of my generation. Responding to Facebook via blog. As if anyone cares that much about what I'm thinking. But anyway.)
For one of my classes, we had to describe five artistic experiences that are meaningful to us. So, naturally, I wrote about the Wizarding World of Harry Potter. It was life-changing. Here's the brief little paragraph about HP world. Yes, I hammed it up. Which is completely appropriate for the occasion.
(Side note: Yes, I pretentiously quoted myself in my own post. Except it wasn't for the sake of being pretentious. It was so you'd realize that I do not talk like this.)
"In a world that frequently oscillates between reality and make-believe, the Wizarding World of Harry Potter finally manages to satisfactorily combine the two. There is no debate as to whether or not Harry Potter world is art. The intricacies in the architecture, the flawless timing of the theatrical interruptions, the subtle tones of Hedwig's theme providing a backdrop for Muggle conversation--every wizarding motif present in Hogsmeade brought awe, exuberance, and nostalgia to the hearts of every witch, wizard, Muggle, and Squib."
(Editor's note: Harry Potter is not make-believe. I know this. I just don't think my professor would understand that he's been charmed into believing magic is only found in books. I'd rather not live out the rest of my life in a straitjacket. Not that I don't respect that lifestyle. I'm digging myself into a pretty deep hole, here. That's what she said. Forget it.)
Granted, it's only three sentences--and not very good ones, at that--but I think Disney might have to pay me a few royalties for the increased attendance in HP world. Either that, or they'll sue me for scaring everyone away.
Right-o, back to reality. Or...another reality, rather.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
It's a list day. A day for no-kay's.
(Side note: I'm not explaining that last one. Ask your parents. Or Google it.)
(Side note to the previous side note: The latter is more reliable and less awkward.)
(Side note to that last side note: That last side note could refer to the side note preceding it...or the list...apparently. Pos-T-Vac. NO-KAY.)
(Ahem...yet another side note: It was an infomercial, for your information. (Pun?) I wasn't just on the lookout for this kind of product.)
My draft of this post (circa five minutes ago) included a more extensive list, but those three pretty much sum it up. Although I did mention your-versus-you're-errors and the consumption of felines. NO-KAY.
I bought a betta fish. His name is Tyson because he thinks he's a tough guy. I like to watch him instead of Friends, sometimes. Which is kind of a big deal.
My whole house is great.
I can do anything good.
This post is going nowhere. Oh, that wasn't news. You knew that from the moment you saw that I had written a new post. (PASSIVE VERBS: NO-KAY.)
Ugh. How to save this post...story time? Perhaps.
Once upon a time...
...when I was young(er)...
...I had a crazy friend. Seeing as I was/am similarly crazed, we would do crazy things. One such "crazy thing" was this two-week phase in which we deliberately consumed plants. Like, grass and shrubbery and stuff.
(Side note: NO-KAY.)
Tune in next time for: SO-KAY. Except probably not.
Have a lovely existence, my darling blogee.