How do you get to Carnegie Hall?

Practice, practice, practice, said the weary musician to the bewildered tourist.

And what do you do at the end of a once-in-a-lifetime experience, with fun, friends and most of all the unbelievable sensation of standing on the stage of the magnificent Carnegie Hall to a four curtain call standing ovation as the featured ensemble at their Memorial Day concert? Please, will somebody tell me, after five days of unreality, how I can now write my essay that's due tomorrow, and prepare for my teacher's recital, and settle back into my life?

I've been looking forward to this concert for almost three years. When I was thirteen Dr. Cobbs told us that our year should practice hard because we had a big event in the offing. Last year he announced that selected students were invited to perform at a return trip to Carnegie Hall. Would I get to go? I went to camp, where less than half the students would get in to the top orchestra, and recorded my audition piece about five times, trying to make it perfect. In Israel I called my mother every few days and always asked her: Any news about the audition? When I spent a week in London with Nonna, and my mother called with the good news, I screamed down the phone. I imagined myself going to New York with the group, standing on that famous stage. Now it was actually going to happen.

September, and our rehearsals started. Brief confusion when the management continued to talk about "selected students," as if all the top orchestra were not going. Letters of invitation were mailed out to everyone, however. We had four hour rehearsals once a month on top of our weekly ones. New York was constantly on my mind. Rehearsing got more and more intense and Dr. Cobbs pushed us harder. It was at times stressful and then boring, but it was always worth it. The months passed, the EDS play was completed wonderfully, and we had our rehearsal-intense retreat. We got our itineraries and whenever life got too much I would remind myself of the adventure to come. The last two week were a blur of writing essays in the Odegaard computer lab, panicking about homework, and particpating in last-minute rehearsals and recording sessions. Finally, after a rueful hug from my violin teacher and late-night packing, I boarded the plane, knowing somehow that I couldn't slow down time no matter how I tried and the trip I had kept as my reward, my special time, would be over before I knew it.

I've traveled to quite a few European countries, but the thought of these past four days have excited me for well over a year. I have to practice to get to Carnegie Hall. I need to stick with symphony because we're going to New York, and it'll be awesome. When I finally pulled my roll-on suitcase through the Sea-Tac terminal, I was unsure what to think. At the airport, I settled down with my friends and we played a game Jin taught us - Mao. It consists of her as the dealer making the rules and the rest have to pick them up as the game goes on. It sustained us through many a long wait. Our seats on the five-hour flight were assigned, so I was sitting next to two male violists I didn't know and it was a relief when we arrived at Newark Airport in New Jersey. Of course, once we met up at the baggage claim there was much frantic chatter, laughter and deranged games of "Quackdiddlioso." We waited for at least forty-five minutes for the bus. As the two coaches took us across the state border into New York City, I spotted the quintissential NYPD cop leaning against a street sign chewing gum and looking disgruntled. Panic as Annie, sitting next to me, realised she'd forgot her cellphone on the plane. She used mine to call the airline, the airport, and her parents, so we'll see how the bill for that one works out.

The sky was grey and New York seemed dingy and harried as we travelled through a long tunnel and towards Midtown. Our hotel was the opposite of dingy. The Grand Hyatt is right across the street from the Chrysler Building and located directly above Grand Central Station, where we were to spend much time, and money. As we walked into the lobby a collective "Oh my God!" was heard, as the space was gilded in black granite and gold fixtures, with mirrors and chandeliers all over, and in the middle of it all, a gorgeous cascading waterfall. Keys were distributed and I went to my room with my roommates, Susie - a friend from the second violins - and two random others, Jade, another second violin, and Kristine, the principal violist, neither of whom had selected roommates. Kristine has a lisp and is an amiable twenty-year-old. Jade is sixteen, half-Asian, and pretty, with a penchant for smoky, colorful eyeshadow. Our rooms were a disappointment after the lobby. They were small, and we had to share beds. Jade was not pleased about this. Although she was a great roommate for the rest of the trip, we were all uncomfortable and uncommunicative with each other that first night. With our counselor, Mrs. Johnson (Mr Johnson's wife), we went down to the dining concourse at Grand Central Station and had dinner. Grand Central is a huge, bustling place with New Yorkers running, out of breath, to catch trains every few minutes. We got food from the overly-expensive shops and then embarked on our first tour, a walk to Rockefeller Center. It's a lovely square where the huge Christmas tree is put up every year. There's a multicolored fountain which sparkled in the dark evening, glittering cafes and a shopping concourse that was closed. A policeman showed us the windows where most of the famous talk shows are filmed. We didn't talk much, and after a little TV-watching in the room the first day ended awkwardly.

On Friday, however, my roommates and I got to know each other better and a fun time was had by almost all. After some half-hearted practicing in the am, we boarded buses for our Uptown Tour. The tour guide was an actor - I don't know how struggling - who had a habit of naming all the famous people who had lived in a particular building with an odd sort of vibrato in his voice on the last syllable of each name ("Paul Newmaaaaan, Duke Ellingtooooooon, Barbra Streisaaaaaaaand...") We stopped at Central Park, which is fantastic, but we didn't have much time, Grant's Tomb and St. John the Divine Cathedral, and saw the rich neighborhoods of the Upper West Side, the New York Public Library, Times Square and the entertainment capital, with the NBC building, the gold Trump Tower (enormous, with Donald's private penthouse and swimming pool at the very top), and the Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts, which was swanky, but nowhere near as nice as Carnegie Hall.

After pizza at Grand Central, which was quickly becoming quite familiar, we grabbed our instruments and walked to a brownstone Jewish community center, where we had our first New York rehearsal. It was divided into two: a winds and brass workshop with a Julliard conductor and ex-principal trombonist of the Metropolitan Opera, and a string workshop with the concertmaster of the Richmond Symphony who happens to be married to Johnson's son. It made a huge difference to our playing, and although sitting through the winds and brass workship was boring, I felt our ensemble and intensity increasing each minute. Why couldn't we have recorded our pieces after New York, where our playing reached a different level?

At the end of rehearsal, most people prepared for a night of shopping, eating and a trip to Times Square. I hightailed it back to the hotel to meet my parents for the evening. Unfortunately, the handover was not smooth, as I realized I had lost my travel wallet, with debit card, one hundred and thirty dollars in cash, photo ID and more. Panic! Panic! My parents looked very grim when I met them in the lobby and told them. After retracing my steps, the wallet was regained in Banana Republic, where I and some friends had tried on clothes. I'd left it in the dressing room. Wallet in hand, we hailed a taxi to go see an off-Broadway show, "Jewtopia." It's a comedy about Jews and the only show that still had tickets left when my parents visited the half-price booth that evening. "Jewtopia" may have been in a small theater (not so much bigger than the ECT), with a modest set and another show playing upstairs, but it was truly funny, and more irreverent than "My Big Fat Greek Wedding."

The next day, after an even more halfhearted practice session in the room with mutes on, my roommates and I decided to go shopping on Fifth Avenue, a few blocks from the hotel. We must have walked two miles. We were in search of the Holy Grail, the huge Sephora that we eventually discovered was on 52nd and 5th, but not before walking from 42nd to 57th and Lexington. Jade went mad in Sephora and blew her budget on a face cleansing routine. I got a gift for Liz and Sinclaire, which was - I'm ashamed to say - one of the cheapest things in the store; the eyeshadows were almost prohibitively expensive. After an overly long time waiting for Jade in Sephora, we had just enough time to visit H & M, the hot clothing store from Europe - my store of choice because it has a huge selection and it's cheap. I had just enough time to run through and grab a tank top and a green peasant skirt before we ran the ten blocks back to the hotel to make it in time for our dress rehearsal on the stage of Carnegie Hall.

ID cards were handed out and it was explained to us that it was impossible to get backstage without these performer's passes. When the hall was in sight, a cheer went up in the bus. We got out and started taking pictures, and there was excitement when someone pointed out our name on the Carnegie Hall marquee. It said: "Ensemble Spotlight Series. Tacoma Youth Symphony. Paul-Elliott Cobbs, Conductor. TOMORROW." We went crazy with our cameras.

All hundred of us were then herded into a small, not very nice back room to practice, squeal with excitement, or look bored and unimpressed, depending on the person. We were there for a while, but for once the orchestra was compliant with the requests of the adults: this was Carnegie Hall, and there was no room for argument. The nice, but very firm, people at the hall directed us onstage after a long, hot wait. An array of at least four balconies, with boxes going round the walls till they almost were above the stage, presented itself to us. The color scheme was red and gold. The back of the stage was inlaid with gold, columns and decoration. The general effect was "Oh, my fucking God. We better be good. This is unreal!" We had half an hour, the polite but very firm man said - just enough time to run through parts of both pieces. The acoustics were unbelievable, and the Firebird notes rang out with power and strength to every corner of the hall. We expected the man in charge, who came out when we were finished, to talk to us, but his only words were "Good - now get out, leave!" They had other things to do. Carnegie Hall is a busy place.

After a brief interlude of watching "A Midsummer Night's Dream," the ballet, on TV in the room (I found I am forgetting the lines! Horror!) and browsing at Strawberry, the clothing store that was pretty much our second New York home (I bought two more peasant skirts), it was time to head for the buses on our Uptown Tour. We were whisked past Ground Zero, Wall Street, Battery Park, the ferry terminals, Little Italy, Soho, Nolita and the other ethnic neighborhoods. We stopped at what appeared to be the Chinatown/Little Italy border and were let loose on a three-block stretch of street filled with Chinese souvenir shops, where I bought gifts and was haggled at. The haggling process was the same as the Arab Christian market in Jerusalem: "You're so pretty. For you, pretty girl, only sixteen. No, I make it fourteen for you only." And then the same conversation starts again with the woman behind you. It started raining as we dashed from shop to shop, squinting at the merchandise which was almost identical in each one.

Dinner in Little Italy was a real disappointment. We went to a touristy place called Puglia's - probably the only one large and cheap enough they could find. The food was mediocre at best, and the clientele was solely tourists. A man came out and started piping in music and getting us to sing along to the Chicken Dance, the Brady Bunch song, and "Take Me Out to the Ball Game." I was relieved when we went back to the hotel. Susie, Jin, Laura and I took a walk, pretended to be Mafioso in Grand Central, and bought junk food to take back to the room and watch movies with. The day ended with very full and tired musicians. Susie, Jade and I gossiped at length about other TYSers, and I love gossip.

Sunday two things hit me: (1) Our concert was that night, and (2) the trip was almost over. There were no rehearsals. In the morning, we went back to Strawberry and I bought a pair of flip flops and a pink top with a silver clasp. Much time was spent at Strawberry, and we helped a girl called Stefanie with a screwed up love life select an outfit to impress her crush with on the cruise that night (long, and ultimately pathetic story that I cannot really sympathize with). We then toured the Empire State Building, which just sucked. It was hot, I walked blocks and blocks in flip flops that tore my feet apart, and we stood in countless lines. I didn't count them, but they kept coming, and the one to enter the building stretched right around the block. Yes, it was pretty, but still. Any tall building would have done. I got another souvenir gift and we headed back to the hotel to relax, pack, and prepare for the concert. We also ate delicious gelato and egg rolls from Grand Central. At six, we got into concert dress and did our hair and makeup, and I got a little jittery. This was it!

Many people saw our instruments and asked where we were performing, as they did throughout the trip. It was satisfying to respond "Carnegie Hall" and see their expressions change from amused patronization to impressed surprise. "Oh, my," they'd say, or "Oh, wow..." The bus ride to the hall was tense, and many of the wind and brass players were probably thinking about their solos. Once at the hall, we were met by more nice but firm people who took us up an elevator into the "Kaplan Space," where all the famous orchestras who play in the hall wait. Cobbs and Johnson got the "Maestro Suite," which must have been fantastic - we didn't get a chance to see it.

The concert started at 8.30, and there were two sections and a first intermission before we were on. We were able to be as loud as we wanted, as we were on the sixth floor, and tensions and tempers ran high. My friends and I played Mao. Too much last-minute practice would hardly help. We were there for two hours at least. Finally, we were told to teeter down the six flights of stairs in our high heels. The atmosphere was quite something. One girl was quietly crying, even. Some people seemed unaffected. I had lost one of my contacts, and was wondering whether I'd be able to see the music properly. We waited amongst the scenes of backstage Carnegie Hall until finally we moved onstage, smiling nervously, and sat in our seats (Sophia and I, as third stand, were center and second row - a good place to be). The hall was not sold out, but the audience was by no account sparse. The balconies, oddly, seemed very full, and about three quarters of the main seats were taken, although I can't be sure. There were lots of whoops when we came on from the parents and friends who had travelled to be there, and blank faces from the New York audience. Parents grinned and waved to their kids. It was unreal.

After we tuned, we played the Tender Land, and there was a good round of applause. It is hard to write more because all I remember from the playing was nerves, concentration and focus on the music. And I remember that we sounded good. Our playing wasn't passionate, but we had a pretty tone, and all the entrances were right on. Had we ever played that well, even in rehearsal?

We tuned again, and Dr Cobbs came out to more whoops from the TYS supporters in the audience. Silence as the pianissimo first notes of the Firebird began. We played it, and thank God, we played it the best we ever had. The Introduction, which was nowhere near good enough at our Tacoma concert, seemed practically perfect. The Princess's Rondo featured lovely wind solos - somehow, they got their act together and played fantastically. At the first notes of the Infernal Dance there were gasps of "Oh God!" and "Whoa!" from the audience, and someone swears they heard a "Holy Shit!" although I didn't catch that one myself. The Finale was rousing and the acoustics flattered us; there were no obvious, unmasked mistakes. As we played the last page, Dr. Cobbs smiled at the orchestra. We were done! As the last note ended, people stood up to applaud before our bows had left the strings. We'd gotten our standing ovation from the New York audience and it lasted for 4 curtain calls. As we stood there smiling and thinking "Unreal!" I realised how much I didn't want to leave.

The rest of the trip is a bit of a blur. We clattered up six flights of stairs, put our instruments away, talking very loudly, and clattered down the stairs again. As we exited the stage door, flashbulbs went off: it was the parents who had come to say hi to their kids. I saw my parents and they were very pleased. It's the last time I've seen them; I'm at home and their flight gets back later tonight.

Not quite knowing what to say, and realizing that it was almost midnight, we boarded the buses for our cruise. One of the firm-but-kind men came on to the bus and thanked us for "a really stunning concert," which was the cue for cheers that had been held in since the performance. We boarded the "Spirit of New York," our cruise ship, at 12.20 am. The skyline glittered as we ate dinner from the buffet and took pictures of the Statue of Liberty and each other. Unfortunately the cruise was not as long as we had assumed, and without getting to visit the disco downstairs, or more importantly spend time outside on the observation deck, we were pulling back into harbor. I had learned two things about our concert: first, that the English horn player fell down the stairs on the way to the stage and sprained her ankle, so she played not only with an injured foot but back spasm as well and she still sounded better than ever. Second, a cellist's bow hair exploded (is that the right word?) at the first note of the Tender Land, so she spent the entire concert playing on the tiny amount of hair that was left on her bow amidst the mass of loose hair. I hadn't known about these things as we played.

We got back to the hotel at 2.30 am and fell asleep at about 3.15. Wakeup today was at seven, as we finished packing and hung around the lobby. At the Newark Airport we stuffed ourselves with junk food - I had a bagel sandwich and french fries, others had cheeseburgers, donuts and ice cream - and tried to forget about saying goodbye. The flight back was bittersweet; I read a book by the author of Bridget Jones, I haven't finished it yet, it's not very good. At the baggage claim phone numbers were exchanged and I met the father who'd be driving me home. As we drove down I5 I realized that the trip I've been waiting for - it seems like forever - is over and done with. If I don't do orchestra next year, a mainstay of eight years of my life and a major source of excitement this year is also finished. That's why I decided to write down my impressions, so that I could have a record, and sort out my thoughts. I also realised that if I dreaded coming home so much, I need to make my life less stressful. I need to do that for my own sake.

2 Days! Oh my gawwwwwwwwwwd!!!

I got a 3.6 on my essay today. ^^; I'm sorry if you happen to be reading this, Liz - I'll never complain about that in front of you. I'm just disappointed because my prof was disappointed in it, I think - he said it didn't show my analytical abilities, and there was too much political generalization, which was the thing I was afraid of, but I couldn't find enough primary sources and I was really frazzled because I had a 10 page paper due the day before. And one due three days after. And a performance that week. Anyway, I hope I'll do better on this one but I still have to write it and I'm leaving Thursday morning and I'm going to be at the TYS recording session tomorrow from 6-9 and I get back from school at 5.45! AAAGEHIOZT RWEITN ZGSL
@#)(%843(!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


BUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

~CARNEGIE HALL IS IN TWO DAYS~

I just needed to scream into the computer. My violin teacher gave me a rueful hug today; she wants to come too. This time next week it will be all over... oh my god... I'm soooooooooo excited!!! This trip will be my time to forget about
a) my future (what it will be like)
b) what I'm going to do this summer
c) my violin recital next friday
d) homework
e) finals
f) all the embarassing things that happen to me
g) personal/romantic stuff, or lack of
5 days to be incredibly busy and touristy and New Yorky and musicky and sappy. And to stand on that famous stage, holding my very own violin - and hopefully my very own bow, which is still in the hands of those lazy people at Applebaum's.

Current Music ~ The Firebird

Ahhhh.... life.

The Sibelius violin concerto is so damn beautiful, and cold, and eerie, and Finnish. I'm such a dork... I'm not even a good violinist, but I still love classical music. When the friends said the Dvorak cello concerto was boring, I thought "Boring?! Fantastic more like! Maybe not the way we played it... but... gah! A work of genius!" Although the 2nd movement is a little slow. But yeah, I

Today I went to the History Department awards ceremony. It was in the faculty club, which is really ugly on the outside but biiiiig and purty on the inside - all kinds of rooms and fancy places, snacks and drinks laid out for us, and professors and students milling around finding people to talk to. My dad went downstairs and saw a bar, a restaurant-thingy, and a kitchen. I didn't even know about this faculty club! Anyway, they had forty awards to give out, which they did in a little outdoor courtyard. My dad was the only parent who felt the overpowering need to take a picture while I was actually recieving mine, and I had to pause and pose, everyone laughed, and I was very embarassed. My dad met 2 of my professors, that was weird.

I also went to the Law Library to get sources for my essay. Dayum! That place is incredible!!!! The whole law school is amazing... so pretty, and all glass and bright wood and gleaming surfaces... and the study carrells at the library have high-backed, padded swivel chairs in each one, and there are loads of them. I mean wtf. It really makes me want to go to law school. The girl at the desk was sort of a bitch, but... that place is without question the best building on campus.

firebirds are cool

Well, that's our Tacoma concert done. Liz, Sinclaire, and Greg came all the way down to Seattle and walked fourteen blocks (silly... got off at wrong stop) to come, so that was really, really nice of them and made it that much better!! The music itself went pretty well... probably the best we've played consistently at a concert this year. Still some parts need to be worked on, though - the loud fast parts are ok, but a lot of the soft, slow parts are iffy. It didn't really feel like we were in control, more like it was a train barrelling down the tracks and just managed to stay on course. To make it good enough for NY...eek... knowing that I'll be there in four days (three days? Depending on how you count) is making me unable to concentrate on hw, but I have to write three pages and go to the law library to research my paper which will take a long time and I have to do all that before three o'clock when I'm going to a reception for the scholarship winners and I don't, don't, don't, don't want to! how I am I going to do all this work by Wednesday?!?!? my brain isn't exploding, it's just slowly chuntering to a stop.

Worried!

Ahh... we don't sound so good. I thought we would be completely perfect right now. Strings are... ok, but we need to quiet down and not be so brash. Winds and brass... grr... out of tune sometimes, not coming in on time... I'm sure we'll get it together for next week but for tomorrow? I'm excited, but it would be nice to know it's going to go well, rather than hope it will. Maybe it's because I'm listening for every mistake? I know the 2nd violin part is easier than some of the others... but for the good news, Kathryn and Wynne are now our principals, instead of Sarah and Grace, and this is good - very very good. When I made a mean joke about Sarah my stand partner said "That's the first time I've heard you be mean about someone!" Hmm... I haven't revealed my true personality to her yet, I guess...

I think I'm going to write my final essay about murders and how they were covered in the press. I love reading about famous murders and trials but I have to finish it by Tuesday and I don't know if the library has any primary sources so that might not work out. lalalala.

Badunkadunk

I can't express how much I love my extended family... Nonna, uncles, aunts etc. Especially Nonna and uncle Henry. I'm so lucky to have a big, loving, slightly crazy family (London doesn't hurt either). And hey! I found a profile of my uncle (well, married to my aunt) in The Spectator magazine. It's about how he takes pictures of naked older women to make them feel prettier... heh... In the past he has: been a sports psychologist (he coached a boxer to win a world championship, can't remember which one), an antique dealer, the editor of a local newspaper, a photographer, an extra in movies (you can see him selling love potions in Diagon Alley in Harry Potter I), and other things, I can't remember. The article even tells the story of how my aunt met him. A quote: "His mother died when he was nine, and his father, whom he describes as "a ne'er-do-well" and "a compulsive gambler", soon afterwards deserted him and went off to South Africa with another woman." "This is not a strip club," he says... oh my God, I had no idea about any of that. My parents are the rich Americans of the family... definitely a boring role.

At 11.15 I'm going to TYS rehearsal... possibly the last normal Saturday afternoon rehearsal of my life, and it's been eight years... eight years of rehearsals every week during the school year. Sad.

My schedule for the next 2 weeks

Thurs. May 19th: Violin performance (done! Phew! Badly... but nobody important was watching). Write outline of essay and three pages of essay body (still must do).

Fri. May 20th: Essay due 4.45 PM. Work on essay until finished, then go to library & research for other essay.

Sat. May 21st: Rehearsal 11.30-2.30. Get narrow focus & preliminary outline for 2nd essay and do reading for SIS.

Sun. May 22nd: Before concert, work on essay. Rehearsal/Concert 12.45-5.00 about, afterwards hang out with Liz, Sinclaire and Greg.

Mon. May 23rd: During 5 hour break in school day, write 3 pg reading paper for SIS. Then research in library for essay & work on essay.

Tues. May 24th: Violin lesson. Work on essay. Get essay almost completely written.

Wed. May 25th: During 5 hour break: finish essay (I hope.) Get hair cut. 5.45-9.00, TYS recording session.

Thurs. May 26th - Mon. May 30th: NY!

Tues. May 31st: Turn in essay which is hopefully finished. Violin lesson in Kilworth.

Wed. June 1: Sleep. No, wait - go to school, do reading, practice, etc.

Thurs. June 2: Recital dress rehearsal.

Fri. June 3: Violin recital.

Sat. June 4 & onward: Study for finals, make summer plans....!!!

Well, that was interesting... but it doesn't change the fact that I have 6 pages due tomorrow and only some notes right now. Ciao.

Ugh.

I feel really tired, and sort of surreal, and very scared about the performance tonight. It's hard to concentrate on my paper and I'm just sort of... jittery. I wish I could calm down. I'm not sure... I just feel very weird indeed.

I wrote a long email to people about coming to the TYS Concert. I hope it will all work out. I hope we'll do a good job. There are so many talented musicians in the orchestra (not me heh). It would be a shame if after all this work it comes off less than the excellent standard we are capable of. Especially the very first thing we play, the opening of the Tender Land, the bassoon solo is... iffy. And that might throw us off. Who knows, just so long as it's better than the Janacek, I guess. Tomorrow I'm doing a recital for my teacher, so I'll get really nervous, but anything is better than how I did last time. The piece is easy, it's a Polish country fiddler thing by Wieniawski. So it's less nerve wracking but if I collapse with nerves like last time it makes doing badly even worse... the feeling of being on stage, knowing everyone's watching you play, thinking "Can I make this shift? I wish I were dead..." is not exactly nice. AAAAH huge daddy longlegs/dragonfly/something bussying around the light... HATE INSECTS! Aaaah it's right above my head. go away go away.

Anyway I haven't cracked under the strain of hw yet after two major papers due one day after the other but I have another paper due Friday and one I have to finish before next Wednesday when we go to NY (AAAAH!! So excited). You idiot dragonfly, go out of the open window, dumbass. So no relaxing for me, then. I feel strangely at peace with everything that is going on. What will happen, will happen. If it doesn't work out, it doesn't. What else can I do?

Phew, dragonfly gone. So Liz confronted Sinclaire about Ryan today (again), it was quite funny because Sinclaire is not overly sensitive and can, apparently, take it lightly. I agree with Liz about how gross Ryan is but it seemed awkward to say that. And I just now figured out why: because if you criticize the attractiveness level of someone's boyfriend isn't that similar to criticizing their own attractiveness? Because it is such a close relationship, and they've sought each other out for companionship and, yeah, "adult activity" (all together now: Ewww! Ryan!) but it's kind of like saying someone's mother is ugly, right? It's not you, but it reflects on you. Although Liz was saying that Sinclaire is too good for Ryan, which is different, but still... it's something about criticising the guy that she's intimate with that makes me uncomfortable, I haven't figured out what it is yet. However, objectively, Liz is totally right.

Also on the subject I found a hot guy in Israel class, I'd noticed him but not his looks before, but I did today all of a sudden. He is Jewish so I can marry him. Although we have not had a conversation yet. But, you know, these things take time. I can't tell my Nonna (grandmother) about him otherwise she will set us up. She has set me up with about five nice Jewish boys so far and grandmotherly approval sort of kills things, although she is awesome.

Two papers down

Two to go. Plus lesson tomorrow, performance Thursday.

Of course, I can't bring myself to work right now... my brain has really been fried the past couple days.

Stay awake! Stay awake! Where's my burst of inspiration?

Why was I just watching the trailer for "Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants"?

Write! Write! Yaaaaaaaaaaaawn... I want my holiday on a sandy beach somewhere. I want it now.

Come on, Emma. Stay awake, girl.

The Piano Man

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/4550069.stm

wow!

Korans and Toilets

Newsweek's story that US soldiers at Guantanamo Bay desecrated copies of the Koran (by putting them in bathrooms 'to intimidate the inmates' and flushing one of them down a toilet) turn out to be inaccurate. Whoops! Too late, the wrath of angry religious fanatics around the world has been aroused. Riots in Afghanistan. Sixteen - get that, SIXTEEN - Afghani citizens have been killed, and over one hundred wounded, as a result of these riots.

OK, so it's the height of immorality to put a religious book in a bathroom, but it's - what? - "collateral damage" to kill and injure people whilst rioting FOR WHAT? Are you asking me to believe that the fundamentalist bigots who were out rioting wanted to support efforts to build democracy, as one Arab newspaper said? Um, hello, aren't these the same people who are passionately opposed to democracy if it isn't along strict theocratic lines?

So after both Stephen Hadley and Condoleezza Rice go on TV saying "OMG we're sorry! We don't know if this story is true but if it is, oh no, we wouldn't want to disrespect the Koran! Please forgive us!" it was confirmed that Newsweek retracts its allegations. Too late for those 16 people who were killed in what must have been one hell of a riot. If they are so concerned about respect and democracy, why can't these Holy War people react in any way other than violence? I suppose the one "anonymous source" that NW cited in its original article was a bit flimsy.

God it makes me so sick... the hypocrisy of people who try to use (untrue) stories of "religious desecration" (putting Korans in bathrooms) to paint America as the evil anti-Islamic bigot, whilst they themselves are, of course, completely against any sort of religious freedom whatsoever. Of course, I'm not saying that what has been going on in Guantanamo Bay (or what did happen with the torture allegations, I don't know if it still is) is not important. I'm just saying my God, it's not like the fanatics will really care if America put up its suspected terrorists in 5 star hotels - what America does or doesn't do isn't the issue. So if you're concerned about torture, then go after Bush and company, go after the mullahs in Iran (torture on a far grander scale), go after anyone who you suspect of condoning the practice. Including the Arab governments who the Bush admin. is accused of shipping prisoners to so they don't have to torture them themselves. Oh, wait - weren't these the same governments we were supposed to be impressing with our human rights records? You mean they are among the worst human rights violators in the world themselves? No shit, Sherlock!!

God, all his archangels and beard-trimmers, what is the world coming to?

damnit where is that book I need to pull quotes from for my paper!!!

someday I will look back on this blog and all my anxiousness and laugh

but right now I need to find "Real Jews" by Noah Efron

Two weeks to NY! Less, actually!

We got our itineraries today. Happily, the plan of masterclasses with Julliard instructors has gone the way of the dodo. It would have scared me shitless. Getting the itinerary was exciting - lots of touring, a midnight cruise after our concert (it ends at 2 am!), staying at the Grand Hyatt which is located right above Grand Central Station!

It makes my quarter of hell just about worth it. I have a 10 page paper due on Monday. 6 page paper (haven't started it) due on Tuesday. Another 6 page paper due on Thursday. Violin lesson Tuesday. Violin performance Thursday. And after all that, I have to write another paper before next Thursday, when we leave for NY, because it's due the day after we get back. I mean, that's just superhuman. I honestly don't know how I'm going to do it. I wish my violin teacher was a little more understanding, she snapped at me for not playing in the performance this Thursday: "I take it your schoolwork is more important." I mean, what am I supposed to do, not sleep or eat? Don't answer that.

So, oh my god, I better get cracking. But first, it is so odd how my appearance changes. Just a couple minutes ago, I looked in the mirror and thought "Hmm. I look relatively nice! Glittering eyes, glowing skin, nice smile." And yet this morning I looking in the mirror and thought "Oh holy crap. Pale, sickly skin, acne, big undereye circles, fat face... I look like a disaster!" What is up with that? Liz noticed it for herself, too... hmm, possibly the lighting. Hmm. But problem is I would like to look the way I do now when I go to school in the morning.

Sarah Stadium

Hollywood starlets were advised to use their middle name as their first name and the name of the street that they grew up on as their last name

I'd be Sarah Stadium!

how cool is that?

migdal
and
behlmer
are
kicking
my
ass

Beauty

Go to singingfish.com and search for "Butterfly Lovers." Choose the second result (ButterflyLovers;Track03). It should open in RealPlayer.

It's a violin concerto that mixes Chinese melodic themes with Western orchestration and style. It's so gorgeous, I can't stop listening to it. It took a few listens to appreciate the melody, but it has made a very stressed someone feel content and hopeful. It is amazing that music can lift a person's spirits like that. The phrase "swept up" may be a cliche, but people use it because it expresses how people taken out of themselves and their own problems and feel, for the duration of the music at least, thoroughly a part of those unspoken emotions of hope, love and anguish that are so achingly beautiful. Small wonder that armies use marching bands to stop the soldiers thinking about pain and tiredness and feel empowered by the "glory" music instead.

I suppose that's part of the genius of Hollywood, too. How many scenes without a sentimental soundtrack can we cry at? We know we're being manipulated, but music gets right in there to bring out our emotional reactions. A blockbuster without its soundtrack would be pretty flat, I imagine.

"Butterfly Lovers" isn't manipulative. But the movement I'm listening to doesn't include anger or fear or shame, only love and possibly regret... those noble Hollywood feelings that easily disappear after a few days of real life. Maybe that's why we listen to this kind of music so often. They're human emotions that we can be proud to share. If you want to think the best of yourself and others then this music certainly helps. Stravinsky's "Infernal Dance" and U2's "Sunday Bloody Sunday" are quite different.

The Lounge

Right now in the lounge there is -- and -- talking about gaming, -- and -- arguing about chess, -- complaining about something/making fun of someone in a high pitched voice, -- wandering around like an overgrown bird of prey waiting for me to get off the computer so he can resume playing whatever ancient Mario-style game he was playing, -- gossiping with her smug laugh, -- and -- giggling and -- flexing his muscles.

I hate the lounge sometimes.

WooHOO!!!

Dear Ms. Grunberg:
I am pleased to inform you that you have been selected as a Schwartz Fellow for the academic year 2005-6. The award will cover the full cost of resident tuition for three quarters. Your application was selected on the basis of academic excellence and commitment to the study of non-western history, as demonstrated by your undergraduate record, personal statement, and letters of recommendation. The Schwartz Fellows for 2005-6 will be introduced at a special reception given by the History Department at 3:00 p.m., Monday, May 23^rd in the Music Room of the Faculty Club. We certainly hope that you will be able to attend to receive this recognition in person. If you have a few friends or family members who would like to accompany you, they would be most welcome as well. On behalf of the History Department, may I offer my sincere congratulations and best wishes to you for continued success in your academic pursuits.
Sincerely,
Robert Tracy McKenzie
Associate Professor
Director of Undergraduate Studies

Wheeeee! And I have tons of, ironically, history hw to catch up on which is why I'm doing the following survey. Also my head hurts and I feel crappy... probably that time of the month. So, nice to be cheered up.

--Background--
DOB (Date of Birth):: June 21, 1988
Age:: 16
Location:: Tacoma
Siblings:: None
Pets:: None :( I need to steal a cat from one of my friends.

--If you were a ______ ,what would you be?--
Vegetable:: Did you know the vast majority of people will respond to a "which vegetable" question with the answer "carrot"?
Animal:: Otter
Fruit:: Peach or plum... well, they're my favorites, I'm not sure if I'd like to be one. Perhaps an Ugli (look it up) because it'd be less likely that I would be eaten
Color:: ...
Household Object:: ........................
Season:: winter
Article of Clothing:: this could inspire so many sexual answers
Drink:: Depends on my mood... a dark and intense espresso, a sweet and rich Mocha, or a light and frothy strawberry smoothie?

--Emotions--
What's one thing that will always make you laugh?: Watching Max Hai-Jew catapult bravely over the wire fence, only to get his privates excrutiatingly caught on the sharp bits at the top. What can I say, it gets me every time... (just kidding, Max)
What's one thing that will always make you cry?: Watching "The Joy Luck Club" with my mother... being Jewish immigrants, my parents are worlds apart from the Asians in the film, but there are important similarities, and my mum, who can be sentimental at times, always bawls when the violins start swelling, so I shed a few tears too.
What's one thing that will always make you angry?: Listening to Tyler take romantic advice from stuckupbitch Rain and annoyingmofo Josh. No, I don't consider this more important than genocide in the Sudan, etc., but it is irritating in an everyday sort of way.
Do you laugh a lot?: Yes
Do you cry a lot?: Less than I used to
Do you get mad easily?: Yes
What's your strongest emotion right now?: Anxiety/stress
What song brings out your strongest emotion?: Probably different classical pieces and some oldies rock.

--What's your favorite...--
Season:: they are never like my idealised versions of them
Holiday:: Jewish holidays, Halloween
Age:: well, I've only been on this earth 16 years
Phrase/Quote:: "In vain I have struggled; it will not do. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and... love you." OH MY FUCKING GOD!!! I LOVE YOU TOO COLIN!!!!!
Thing to do:: Why, the EEP Drama Society, of course! It's, like, totally phat.
Type of Cookie:: Chocolate chip
Class:: killmurderrampagepillagekill
Person in the whole wide world:: Apart from my parents, probably my grandma.

--If You Could--
If you could be anything you wanted (animal, object...) what would you be?: Colin Firth's lover. Just kidding. I mean, that'd be nice, but if I had the choice of anything, I would probably choose to be God. Omnipresence, absolute power, etc. (Are you listening up there, Alanis Morrisette?)
If you could have any super power, what would you have?: To be invisible. And to fly. Probably invisibility first.
If you could go back in time and change something, what would you change?: Well, I'd like to make it so that Hitler didn't exist, let's throw Stalin in there too, but if there's one thing I've learned from the movies, meddling with history is dangerous & will not necessarily bring about world peace (but may get you a buxom ladee)
If you could change one thing about yourself, what would you change?: I can't choose one thing!! Face (perfect complexion), hair (STRAIGHT), figure (large breasts, small waist, curvy hips), personality (outgoing, vivacious, witty, irresistably sexy)... I'm sort of insecure right now *sob* Oh, and I would make myself good at violin. so I wouldn't even have to practice. Although that's beside the point because those who are good are those who are good at practicing.
If you could be a millionare, what would you buy?: So much.

--A Deeper Look--
The most important thing in your life is:: Um, my family, I suppose.
The most important person in your life is:: See above.
Your life motto:: Don't have one
The best advice ever given to you:: Meh... I don't know.
One word to describe your personality:: Complex

--Friends and Enemies--
Who is your best friend?: Hmm... not sure... EEPers
What do you do together?: Sit in the EEP lounge making fun of people... damn! My life is so ready for an extreme makeover.
What is it about this person that makes you get along so well?: Apart from the fact that they are fabulous, we seem to have the strangest things in common
How long have you known them?: Since TS
Who is your worst enemy?: Myself is the inevitable answer
What is it about this person that makes you not get along?: lots of things.
How long have you known them?:
Your other enemies are:: just a minute, I have the list in my purse, although some of them are already dead... I mean strangely enough they are dead... funny how that happens

--Days and Nights--
What time do you get up on weekdays?: 6.50
What time do you get up on weekends?: Sat. 9.00, Sun. depends
What time do you go to bed on weeknights?: 10-12
What time do you go to bed on weekends?: depends
What's your favorite time of the day?: When the sun is setting...
What's your least favorite time of the day?: MORNINGS!
Why? I hate leaving the luxury of sleep for the grind of school
What time are you most productive?: never, it seems like
Are you an early bird or a night owl?: Night owl

--Love & All That Good Stuff--
Do you have a boyfriend/girlfriend?: No
If yes, how long have you been dating them?: Shut up
If no, do you want one?: yes
Who would you want them to be?: no freaking idea
Are you sure about that?: well yes
Do they know you like them?: n/a
Are you sure about that?: n/a
On a scale of 1 to 10, how much do you like this person?: n/a
Do they like you back?: stfu
Are you sure about that?:
How much time do you spend thinking about this person?:

Weird how I've gotten so used to Dr Cobbs traumatizing people at rehearsal that when he points to a wind player and says "Do you realise it's you who is making all the mistakes? I don't care if you've practiced all night, NO MISTAKES!" it barely registers. There was more nail-biting stuff today with three violin CPAs conducted in front of the whole orchestra for people who were absent, and hadn't failed. Those who had failed got to go during break... strange... but for me orchestra is a few hours of relaxation compared to school work. I'm under so much stress right now. I don't see the point in all this - I am so sick of school, god damn it!

Liz, you need to put my nomination on the website!

Homework Rant

Well, my bow tip is replaceable and it won't be too expensive. Also, Applebaum's will remove the scratch from the back of the violin. I'm very relieved. They gave me a replacement bow for a week (the bow rehairer doesn't get there till Wednesday) but it was caked with rosin. After a few measures I dusted the string and my finger came off white. There's an enormous amount of rosin on that bow... it sounded so scratchy and brash that I stopped practicing, heh.

I want to watch "Noises Off" the movie tonight. I came up with a cast list for next year, haha:
Dotty Otley: Lindsey (our best actress) or Risa (flamboyant and funny)
Lloyd Dallas: Ryan? I have a suspicion he'd be the best although he's not played a leading role before
Brooke (the one that wears underwear): Lindsey or Risa - whichever isn't Dotty
Garry: Sam - leading romantic man, I think Sam has the right stoicism
Belinda: I think Ruth might work for Belinda.
Frederick: Pax!
Poppy: I think Grace would make an awesome Poppy (the assistant stage manager in the play - perfect) but she might not want to? Wendy or Rozanna would be good but I think Rozanna might be too forceful for Poppy, she needs a more quirky character
Tim: ERIK! Erik would make an ideal Tim and the Stage Manager can walk around with his shirt off, right... I mean...
Selsdon: My Stroke Of Genius. ALEX. Selsdon is an old drunkard. What could be better?!? Unless Carl wanted to act, in which case... tough choice. Carl could probably play one of the other men too. I've never seen him act besides being a fairy but I have a feeling he's pretty good.

So. That leaves the following people who I think might want a role w/out a role: SCOTT (big nono, but I couldn't think of anywhere he'd fit), Charlotte Sanders (I wish there were more female parts...), and Rozanna. Also, I would like to be Dotty or Lloyd, not because they're the leading roles (less lines are better than more) but because I think I have some of the British sensibility, but oh well, we'll see- it hasn't been voted in, and I'm probably not directing, I'm just playing around.

I'm about to face the worst homework month of my life. People at symphony complain about AP and high school homework. Ha! I would give anything... I'm in two 400 level and a 300 level intensive writing classes this quarter and it's killing me.. I give every paper my highest level of analysis and thought and the professors are really demanding, this is not just undergrad college research papers, they are almost graduate level. Sometimes when I think about everything I have to do I feel myself about to cry and wonder whether it's worth it. Even if I start writing at the last minute I still feel I have to do a good job and push myself to the max... Because I'm the worst ever mix of procrastination, laziness - but still perfectionism. Every paper I write that comes back with glowing comments makes me wonder whether I can write the next one to the same standard, and when I fail, it's almost like, now that wasn't that bad, was it? I just want to have fun and relax and have a damn social life, but inevitably I'm in front of the computer screen at 1.30 am, typing away at another paper, slowly losing my interest in the subjects I was once passionate about because I'm forced to grind all these words out. It doesn't help that my mother constantly asks me, "What have you done today? Have you been productive? How's your paper going? Have you applied for this scholarship? And that scholarship? Well why not? And clean your room!" She wonders why I'm quiet and don't share with her. Who'd want to share with someone who gives you the third degree. Also too often I haven't done any work that day... and quickly I try to think of something to say that'll stave her off. My mother works twelve hour days, tirelessly, without an assistant, with her cellphone on all the time. Well, I'm not like that. I guess I'm wired differently, and I don't like being productive, I like talking online and sleeping and making pasta salad, but damnit, it doesn't stop my heart racing when she starts to question me!

Joshua Bell is so talented... and sexy.

He played the Saint-Saens concerto (it was beautiful, just like him) and it only lasted for, like, 20 minutes. Damnation! We sat in the front row. Next to me was an Asian UW student who struck up a conversation. He's an electrical engineering major, graduating this quarter, plays violin, knew Dr. Cobbs from All State. He seemed nice but we never exchanged names; that's the end of that. The orchestra also played a piece by Sibelius (Finnish, like Charlotte), a Profokiev (sp?) symphony, and a weird, modern Russian piece which was too odd to describe.

I got invited to join Phi Beta Kappa. It's $85, but I think it's a really good resume item, especially since my resume is very unpadded (not that I have a resume, but if I made one).

Also, I think I agreed to meet my professor tomorrow in a cafe in a bookstore on 65th. I hate talking to professors. Oh no! Oh no! And it would be OK in his office, but in a cafe there's the expectation of talking. Small talk. With an intimidating professor. I'm scared!! I'd like to tell him what few ideas I have for my paper, have him give me ideas, and then leave.

On Friday I'm going to go to the HUB and watch Liz play DDR. Actually, I think Liz is presuming I'm going to play but I'm not good with that stuff. "That stuff" meaning... physical activity, heh. I was thinking of joining Curves because surely it's better to be around insecure, "curvy" (read: fat) older women than fit younguns? At least I can feel slightly superior... slightly... Back to DDR, I hope S****** will come without R***. They are getting altogether too codependent. S****** should learn from Bridget Jones and pull back so that R*** will be able to stretch like a Martian rubber band. Actually I'm just being selfish; I miss Sinclaire.

The British election is tomorrow. My parents forgot to vote by mail.

Four weeks until Carnegie Hall! I told my friend from Israel class today; I had previously told her that I was really bad at violin. Now she thinks I'm (a) a liar for saying I was bad and (b) a really good violinist. Heh. "Carnegie Hall" does have a certain ring to it, I suppose, where "Tacoma Youth Symphony" does not.

I told my mum about the bow yesterday night and she didn't get mad. Well, she looked like she was about to, but then I stressed that it was a complete accident and that I was mortified. We haven't gone to Applebaum's yet but when we do we'll need it rehaired, also there's something weird on the side of my violin (like plastic or something... hard to explain but scary) and a little scratch on the back and the fingerboard is dirty. Let's hope they can make my baby as good as new. *worries*


Heh, I was so panicked at the time of my last entry.

Oh My God. Oh My God.

I'm sitting here in the computer lab in Odegaard recovering from a traumatic experience... so I have this paper due tomorrow (yeah, the one about nutrition). 5-6 pages. Hadn't started writing yet. Went to lab after my 9.30 class, got to work: first, went to electronic index of The Times and looked up sixty bajillion articles (at least thirty, anyway) and typed the relevant quotes in a Word document. Then, wrote the first two pages of essay. Saved essay but stupidly did not note where saved essay.

Went to email essay to myself so that could take lunch break, when browsing for document noted that couldn't find it. Where was essay? Searched for document name; no essay. Looked in every "temp" and "document" folder on computer; no essay. Searched for document name and looked in each folder for forty five minutes. No essay. Tried not to cry in middle of computer lab. Took deep breath, went to internet history and typed all relevant quotes back into another Word document. Rewrote two pages of essay, all the time thinking "Damnit! I'm so screwed!" Went to save essay - and noted link to what looked like previous essay in dialogue box. Opened link. Was essay. Had just wasted about two hours and still need to write most of essay. But it was through no fault of my own; I still don't understand how I missed the file because I looked everywhere that it could possibly be.

Anyway, I sent both copies to myself twice, so that should be okay, and will now go get lunch. Writing hell until 1.30 tomorrow and then, going to see Joshua Bell in the evening! Woohoo!