22 XII 2001 - 14:42 - vita16

So. The phone in our house is possessed. Possibly by telemarketers.

And I say this because I have had entirely too many conversations in the past few days like the following (imagine that as each line goes on, the volume gets louder, but not too loud, because - repressed Asian kid here, can't shout too loudly):

phone rings
J: Hello?
Silence.
J: Hello?
More silence.
J: dusts out the rusty Chinese, shouts: Wei?
If lucky, some static here. Otherwise, more silence. J grows frustrated and hangs up the phone.

Yeah, all right, it's more frustrating if you're me. It's also probably more amusing if you're me. Or if you're listening to me. I've been told that I'm very funny when I'm on the phone - not because of anything I do intentionally, but because of the way I curse at the phone. Actually, that's a habit of mine that I've found amuses many people - the habit of talking to inanimate objects, I mean. Yes. I talk to inanimate objects and I talk to myself more or less regularly, and I have avoided being committed to an asylum HOW?

That aside, there is some music that I got that is making me annoyed. Annoyed bordering on enraged. My rage is incredibly focused right now and is making me devote my brain to interesting ways of torturing the composer of the piece. First, the title. A Flock Descends Into The Pentagonal Garden? Give me a break. Then: the key signatures. 15/8! Who writes in 15/8? These... are... stupid... tempi. And they switch every measure. For what seems to be no reason. And then he uses notes that are rectangular. Long rectangular blocks. And god knows I don't recognize them and I have done almost all of the British theory books and I can even tell you what a hemidemisemiquaver is (after some thought, because it's still not all that natural, the conversion between the amusingly mad British names and the sensible American names). And you will be laughing at how indignant I am but it's just not right! Contemporary music, arrrrrrrrrgggggggghhhh!

(Repeat this last three times for maximum effect.)

(Amusingly mad British names, or some of them, should follow:) Graphic is from here.

But minor irritations aside, I am still happy because:

a) it has stopped raining
b) i got my fake PSAT scores back (nothing fake about them really, they just don't count for anything)
c) it stopped raining and the sun's come out
d) there are people in my house who will say "bless you" after i sneeze
e) adam promised me he'd write a reply to my email which ran something like 14k
f) i finally practiced today.

Oh, and this morning, I found out that, in a form and analysis class of somewhere around ten (a different number comes every week), I and one other person were the only people who had done our homework. Which means that I have no homework for music theory over the break, because, yeah, I got it done and most people didn't so now the homework is the same as it was last week and I am boring everyone.

So I think it's time for me to leave now and do some of my reading for school. Or practice some more. Diaryland is slowly sucking away my energy. Or, you know, I just don't have any to begin with. But it couldn't possibly be that.

It's also time for me to change the text in the tables up there. Hmm... ah, I know. I'll do it after I write this entry.

After all that: mother just got home, she's reading over my shoulder. Apparently a friend of hers got me a book of "Chinese Pieces for the Violoncello." Sounds good, doesn't it? I can't read the cover, because it's in Chinese, and it's in simplified Chinese to boot: *climbs on soapbox* Traditional Chinese is so much prettier than Simplified Chinese, it's easier to learn because the radicals stay the same and they aren't as confusing, and it maintains a three-thousand year old tradition, and if you're so concerned about how well the peasants are going to be able to learn to read, develop a bloody alphabet! *climbs off soapbox* But anyway, some of these titles are hilarious: "Jubilant Farmer," "Cherish the Memory from Cang Mountain and Er Lake," "Sound from Ancient Times," "Dance around bonfire," "Rapturous Dance," "Festal Tian Shan." Who comes up with these things? The same people who write the chopstick wrappers, I suppose.

And while we're on the subject of wrappers, who writes for Naked juice, anyway? The stuff is some of the most overwritten hooey I've seen. Everything is "fabulous," "bursting" with "flavor" or "vitamins" or some other great thing... couldn't they go for droll understatement just once?

Don't answer that.

Next critique: writing technique in Web porn. Coming as soon as six months from now or as late as never! Don't hold your breath.

J