the state of my TV watching

Sometimes, technology provides mankind with the tools to make marvelous leaps forwards.  It can also, alternatively, provide the means of squandering hours of time, and possibly, regression into lazy-spend-everyday-like-a-kid-on-summer-vacation-mode.

in my case, the recollection that i had a netflix account has proven almost as detrimental to my productivity levels as discovering AIM in middle school.

(AIM was a revelation at that age....until you kept the phone lines busy [dial up? heck yes] and your parents missed important phone calls and your internet usage was drastically curbed.  whoops.)

as a result, my TV show exposure has grown exponentially in the last few months, and can be roughly categorized as follows:

Shows I've Started Watching Against My Better Judgement

1. Downton Abbey
Let me just say that this show is mega addictive.  Under the innocent guises of PBS programming and British aristocracy, it lures you into its complex story lines and remarkably well developed characters until you find yourself vehemently devoted to the cause of Bates, and subversive romance of the upstart driver and youngest Crawley daughter. NOT TO MENTION MARY AND MATTHEW.  AAAAAAH.

2. Game of Thrones
If you know me, you probably knew this would happen.  HBO is the evil laboratory of addictive television, and this show does not disappoint.  (Understatement of the century).  This show is so ridiculously awesome that I was compelled to read ALL FOUR BOOKS that were available to me during the hiatus of production.  That's approximately 3000+ pages in around 3 weeks.

at last, those academic UIL chops are paying off. score.

on a related note.  WINTER IS COMING.

3. Celebrity Ghost Stories
Ok ok, you absolutely can and should judge me here. I like ghost stories, too much, and hearing washed up and/or obscure celebrities recount nights of terror accompanied by terrible reenactments is truly a gem of a guilty pleasure.  Plus, sometimes, someone truly fantastic (see: Loretta Lynn, Matthew Gray Gubler, Fred Willard, to name a few)  will make tell a fascinating story that makes it totally worth listening to Harry Hamlin blabber on about how a ghost kept Fed Ex from delivering an important package on time. (seriously, I couldn't have made that up if i tried)

4. The Borgias
You are allowed to judge me a little for this.  But I will counter all of your judgements with this simple fact: Jeremy Irons is magic.  Anything involving Jeremy Irons at least gets a chance with me.  Jeremy Irons as a corrupt and powerful patriarch of "the original crime family?"  COME ON, it's like they put Scar in fancy robes and let him run amuk in renaissance Rome.

Yes, that was a Lion King reference.

5. The Increasingly Poor Decisions of Todd Margaret
This is not for the faint of heart.  David Cross and Will Arnett are geniuses of comedy.... but this show is so agonizingly awkward and ridiculous that I spent most of the time watching it with white knuckles and fists clenching saying "please no, don't do that, oh no oh no, why why why" in between bursts of laughter.

6. Grimm
Remember how I like ghosts?  Really I like all things creepy crawly and/or supernatural.  (Deal with it).  Grimm's Fairy Tales retold in 20th century settings with X-files worthy cinematography (see: dark and foresty) = perfection.

Shows I've Stopped Watching
1. Grimm
That didn't last long.  I mean, there are some charming characters, and cleverly reworked fables here... but there are also complicated subplots that are not too compelling, and it comes on Friday nights.  Not helping.  Give it time, I'll probably come back to this via Netflix the next time I'm sick.

2. NCIS: LA
Why did I even start watching this show?

3. Mad Men
My attention span has gotten too short for this season.  I watched a few episodes.  Not feeling it right now, maybe if they added ghosts, or white-walkers or something.  (kidding. [kind of])

4. Criminal Minds
This is just self preservation.  I live alone, and this show utilizes the "all-single-women-living-alone-will-be-murdered" plot line every other week or so.  Not helping my sleep schedule.

Show Everyone Yells At Me To Watch
1. Modern Family
I GET IT. Sorry!  Don't even start with me, I know that I'm the worst person in America because I haven't started watching this yet, and have only the vaguest idea who Sofia Vergara is, but I will get there and then you can stop hating me.

2. Breaking Bad
I still am not sure how this is going to be awesome, but pretty much everyone around me talks about it, so I'll check it out.

3. Portlandia
I will watch it, and I will put birds on all the things.

Shows I Still Have ZERO Interest In.... Ever
Ice Road Anything

Kardashian Shenanigans

Glee (sorry everyone)

2 Broke Girls/Two and a Half Men/Cougar Town/Laugh Tracks in general, actually

America's Got Talent/American Idol/Dancing with the "Stars"

America's Funniest Home Videos

Grey's Anatomy and it's thousands of spin offs

would you buy my book?

My workspace this morning, in a fit of inspiration fueled by caffeine

On the flight home from NYC a while back I was delighted to read Mindy Kaling’s book “Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me (and other concerns)”

Let me first say: I LOVE THAT BOOK AND WILL TRY TO MAKE ALL OF YOU READ IT AT SOME POINT SOON.

You know the lyrics: strumming my pain with his fingers... singing my life with his words...

Well, this book is (in a less melancholy manner, and with no killing [of the soft or loud varieties]) a joyous revelation of expression of the most amazing thoughts I wish I’d had. By the end, I decided a few things:

1. some day, Mindy Kaling and I will be friends
2. good books (and I mean truly good books, not the best sellers you can pick up in the grocery store check out line) are tragically undervalued in our society
3. i want to write a book.

concerning #3, you are likely thinking something along the lines of the following possibilities:

duh, AMC, we’ve talked about this before  or

p’scuse me?    or even

oh no, this blog is bad enough, ok? yikes.

to crowd A, I say: NO I’M REALLY SERIOUS THIS TIME

to crowd B, I say: can you NOT? I mean. it could work, right? 

to crowd C, I say: okokokokokok. I know I should be practicing, or cleaning my house, or exercising or something instead, but bear with me.

I may not be funny as Mindy or Tina Fey, or as pointlessly famous as Bristol Palin, but what I do have in my arsenal is a ridiculously overactive imagination...which I frequently indulge.

When my car stereo was busted in high school, so what? I can be my own radio station!

When preparing for a job interview (or important life conversation, or presentation), no problem- I will practice interview myself in the car and ask far more terrifying and salient questions so that the real interview feels like a walk in the park!  (I’m surprisingly good at this. seriously)

AND, when exceedingly bored I may even have been known to write my own episode of a favorite TV show, that a friend, who has a degree in film, told me “wasn’t even that bad” (Jeff didn’t say that, but he probably should have) after i shoved it in his (and everyone else around me) face. 

did i mention i’m an exceedingly fast typer?  that’s got to count for something.

My writing isn’t terrible, which is more than can be said about LOTS of authors, I even landed a part time writing gig*...that I have proceeded to ignore entirely. OOOOOPS.

I’m thinking that I’ll play to my strengths and write tour de force of daydreaming. Something light-hearted and nonsensical that people will buy at the airport, chuckle over whilst drinking ginger ale and eating peanuts on the plane and then casually leave in the back seat of their car for a few months until Marshall points out that they should really clean their car. (Not everyone does this? oh.)

My book, title to be determined at a different time, will be a collection of incredibly short stories about my imagined adventures with celebrity friends.  (right?!) 

Not wanting to reveal my hand, but eager to convince you that I’m not insane, here is an example:

Brunch with Meryl Streep

This would totally happen on a rainy Saturday morning in March, when it’s still a little brisk in the morning, but the humidity promises that by mid afternoon the whole city will feel like a sauna.  We would meet at some new trendy bistro named Les moustiques violet, or something equally as international and obscure. 

There would be french pressed coffee from some place exotic like Kuala Lumpur, and Endive Salad (i don’t even know what that means, but there would have to be endive) as well as beet/arugula/kale juice with a hint of spice. 

You get the idea, we would be the envy of everyone else at that bistro..except it would be a total neighborhood gem that only the locals know about, so there wouldn’t be anyone else there. yeah.

You get the idea.

If this book idea fails, I will revert back to my previous plan: determine the up-and-coming mythical creature, and write a twilightesque series where an impossible romance gives hope to a community, spurs a multi-movie franchise, and remains utterly and completely asinine. 

NB: I’ve never read Twilight, but this is my understanding of its contribution to society

** After quitting my job, I applied for a job writing for an online periodical. Somehow, I got it. Then I forgot about it. If anyone from that publication is reading this.... I will get on that ASAP.**

MOM I'M UPDATING MY BLOG

ok. what follows is a post that should have occurred around 02/18/12.  I just found it on my desktop, and since my mother pointed out that I am woefully behind in updating, I thought I'd post it anyways.

at this point, i was in the height of DMA audition insanity... please bear that in mind and judge accordingly.  also, i will update slightly more relevant things SOON.

It turns out that "Southern Hospitality" is actually, well, important to me.  If Chicago seemed slightly brusque, the Northeast seems downright aggressive.   People in New Haven love honking their horns.  It’s an art form, a commentary on someone’s driving speed, or lane changing.  Or perhaps it’s just a cry out to the universe, who knows?  

Not me, that’s for sure.  Driving in New Haven has been quite the adventure.  It turns out that “lanes” are merely decorative, speed limits are hypothetical, and pedestrians are completely fearless.  

Since I’ve been here, I’ve seen at least 5 accidents (there isn’t any ice or condensation on the roads, for the record), a dozen police cars racing down the road, a few ambulances, and more pedestrian-driver confrontations than I would have imagined. 

Apparently, there are also different definitions of “complimentary” between the north and south.  When I saw that my hotel offered “Complimentary Guest Parking,” I naively assumed that meant it would be free.   Oh, no.  Definitely not free.  $20 a day, as it turns out. SIGH.

I was also flatly informed that the “Hotel Restaurant” was in fact a snack bar,  as if there was nothing unusual in advertising a full service eating establishment and providing instead a broken vending machine, fritos and pop tarts.

Ok. I didn’t hate New Haven quite as much as it sounds, it just turned out that everything in my carefully planned trip fell completely apart at this point, when I had absolutely no patience for it.

Let’s back up:

New Haven has the tiniest airport I’ve ever seen.  If you’ve seen an episode of Wings, you should be equipped to grasp this.  THERE IS ONE GATE.  They unload your luggage on the tarmac and you take it, personally from the baggage people.  It’s adorable, and they take it VERY seriously.

When I failed to immediately snatch my bags from them, it became a “security issue” and they confiscated them.  “Unattended luggage is a serious issue, Ma’am.”  YES. This was not unattended, it was unreachable in the 30 second time frame I had.  

Semantics.

On to better times:

48 hours in an impromptu sorority

the ever delightful anna parks luce offered me a warm bed/airmattress/couch as i journeyed from New Haven to Baltimore for my flight back to the ATX.  Delightfully, a few other friends of anna’s were also staying with her: Heather, Karen, and Sarah Claire. 

I drove down from New Haven on Wednesday morning.  I spent quality time on the New Jersey turnpike (even less exciting than it sounds), drove on the George Washington Bridge, and in total covered the following states in my journey:  Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, Delaware, Pennsylvania, Maryland.  (with Anna’s help, Virginia would be rapidly added).

Fans of HIMYM will be pleased to know that DOWISTREPLA exists, or at last, a vast portion of the NJ Turnpike smells like it is in such a place. gross.

I also had the opportunity to drive in a bay tunnel...which was as claustrophobic and unpleasant as I had always imagined.  I am impressed by the engineering, don’t misunderstand, but I will choose to be impressed from above the weight of a harbor bearing down on a man made tunnel from henceforth.

*possible exception, the Chunnel (english channel tunnel).  JUST COOL*

I digress.  Back to travels:

First, let me just say: ANNA’S APARTMENT IS AMAZING, PER ALWAYS.  This girl has a keen eye for decor, let me tell you.   Not only is the place tremendously styled, it feels exactly like the home of my favorite Luce family should.  

Also, Zoe was there.  This dog defies laws of cuteness, and isn’t an ambi-turner.  

Having all of us in the apt felt like a glorious, rapidly assembled sorority of awesome people, and I had an absolute blast.   There is nothing better than spending time with a dear friend, and, in this case, getting to know new ones!

We savored delectable treats like Bubble Tea, hint-of-brown bananas, hint-of-green bananas, retirement center food, hot tea, peanut butter dipped in chocolate, and Elevation Burger- which is pretty much amazing.

Also, because of these ladies I’ve started watching Downton Abbey.  HELP.

I also had the opportunity to check out Ars Nova, the awesome conductor-less orchestra that features Anna as concertmaster.  So proud of that girl.  Karen and Heather were playing as well, so I was the only person not working that evening.

Post-concert we ventured into downtown DC and to the bar RFD for a quick night-cap/pre Sarah Claire/celebration beverage.  My drink of choice was Framboise...it was on tap, which is just impossible to refuse. 

It was a truly fantastic conclusion to my traveling escapades.  

Well... almost conclusion.   I was scheduled to leave BWI at 3:35 pm.  Everything seemed perfect until we were taxi-ing to the runway, and were informed we’d be delayed at least an hour due to crazy psycho weather in the south.  Those weren’t US Airway’s official words for the situation, but it was strongly inferred.

We were, however, offered complimentary alcohol beverages to assuage our irritability.  Hooray.   I currently sit in Charlotte, curious that my flight appears to be leaving an hour later than my boarding pass indicates...yet this is not expected to effect our anticipated arrival time.

Dear Marshall, 

If you are reading this and I am wrong about that, I apologize.  Truly.

I’ve had some wonderful experiences on these travels, but I am definitely ready to be coming home and not live out of a suitcase any longer.

Travels: or adventures of the lone snark, Part 1- Los Angeles

 I'm in the midst of a rite of passage that many of you musicians are all-too familiar with: Graduate School Auditions.

(cue dramatic music) 

Basically, I've been working my way from the west coast to the east coast, parading myself in front of total strangers, attempting to find some direction for my life.  Sounds fun, right?

Well, some of it has been, actually.

The journeys started with a trip to USC, and visiting the amazing P Blake Cooper. 

I did not expect to enjoy Los Angeles.  In my sheltered mind, Los Angeles conjured up the following mental image:

[Earthquakes + mudslides + (unbreathable smog)] x (Paparazzi + Celebrities) 

______________________________________________________________

                                        (Too many people in one city)

To make a long story short: I WAS WRONG.

The city is gorgeous.  There were no earthquakes while I was there. I didn't see a single famous person* or paparazzo.

Oh, Hi, Los Angeles.

I mean, there are WAY too many people there, but it didn't feel claustrophobic until Blake and I stood at the viewing platform on Mulholland Drive and observed just how big the city is.  MEEPS.

Also, P Blake Cooper is a wonderful individual.   He let me crash at his place, drove me around LA, gave me the best tour a girl could ask for, answered my many many questions,  provided personal cheer leading, and reminded me of what a blessing good friends really are.

P Blake with the glint of awesome reflecting of the bell of the LARGEST TUBA I've ever seen

I kind of fell in love with the place, and the sunshine, and the possibilities.  It was a good trip. 

I also ended up flying first class on this trip (not on purpose)... and it was amazing.  Coach will never be the same again.  I know how the 1% live, and I want to go to there.  

(don't judge, if you haven't flown 1st class you just can't understand)

Also, on my flight I was seated next to a lovely lady named Tina.  We will discuss Tina more at a later time, but for right now, what you need to know is that she looked so much like Tina Fey that my mind has replaced her completely with Tina Fey.  So, when I tell these stories for years to come, I sat next to Tina Fey on the flight to Burbank.

 *ok, we might have seen Ewan McGregor at brunch on Sunday.... but I'm not sure 

I don't remember what this building was,
 but it's really cool, and it's on Wilshire Boulevard

In other news, people in LA drive like crazy people.  Bumper-bumper at 80 miles and hour.  WHAT.

I feared for my life a little bit... then I got used it, and felt like a super aggressive driver the first few days back in the ATX.

Overall, my trip was fantastic, and I can't wait to go back! 

Cut that out, Nose.

Apparently, while I was sleeping, my body had a board meeting to discuss the state of the AMC.

They must have decided that I was doing such a bang-up job of managing stress, staying focused and getting ready for auditions, that I could used a little cold to get me "amped up" for peak performance.

Monday, my sinuses and I had a talk.  They demanded their right to a good night's sleep and healthy amounts of vitamin C.  I conceded, napped,  and we jumped back to work.

Last night, I was feeling pretty good.  This morning, I woke up with what seems to be a 5 pounds of marbles in my ears, and a only one functioning nostril.   (Gross, Sorry)

This should be fun.

Ready, set, echinacea?

Of Gratitude, Humility, and Terror

Hello Hello Hello,

Let's face it: I suck at blogging.  Thus, this will be another ginormous update. Fortunately, I promise not to mention jewelry or craft projects :)

First is first:  I'm auditioning for some really cool stuff. 

Back in December, after I left my UT job, I decided to throw my hat back into the academic arena, and audition for graduate programs.  Hoo-ray DMA (to be chanted with moderate enthusiasm).

Now, I had been living in the complicated land of Administrivia for the last 16 months, and had the old adage "every moment you are not practicing, some one else is" floating in my mind.  I was confident that I would not be invited to a lot of places, especially to the places I was interested in.

So, I put together a punch of tapes, and sent them off.  Much thanks to Muldoon Baptist Church, Martin & Lora, Liz Love, and Dennis Llinas for helping me make it happen.  The list was:

Yale
Northwestern
USC
Michigan
Ensemble ACJW (awesome fellowship in NYC)
and New World Symphony

When it came down to it, I could not muster the sanity/fortitude/focus/will to put together one last tape, so New World didn't happen.  The other 5 sailed off alone into the inter webs.

And I waited.

AND WAITED.

and waited


and FINALLY, started hearing back.

Good News:  I'm invited to audition at all of them!!!
Bad News: I'm invited to audition at all of them...and some of them have terrifying tests (I'm looking at you, Yale)


must practice, must practice, must practice, must practice, must practice, must practice

Second: One Woman's Epic Quest to Reread the ENTIRE Norton Anthology of Music...in a month

Oddly enough, no networks have offered to pick this up as a reality TV Show.  I mean, it's got to be vastly more interesting than all the Kardashian nonsense on the air, but whatever.  America isn't ready for the Guidonian Hand.

Anywho, as aforementioned, Yale is known to have a terrifying and beastly entrance exam.  Thus, I am endeavoring to remember all of the music history that has ebbed in my mental tide, and relearn Italian (ha... haha ha ha) so that I can "translate scholarly documents"... all before 02/24

to that I say: Vorrei una birra, per favore

I don't think that the kind of "language abilities" that Yale is expecting... sigh


Third: I'm teaching, and I love it

Ok, I might be the luckiest person alive. I quit a paying job with benefits (and watched my poor Dad age 5 years overnight because of it) and leapt into unemployment with my fingers crossed, expecting January to be a waste land of stress.

Amazingly, Austin Soundwaves (a very very cool program sponsored by the Hispanic Alliance for the Performing Arts) needed a horn teacher, and even more amazingly,  I have the opportunity to check it out, and work with some fantastic kids and colleagues.

:)

Once upon a time, I was a Music Ed major (I think for 2 weeks....seriously) and then I switched, convince d that classroom teaching was not for me.  GUESS what I'm doing?   What's that you say, Irony?  2 hours of classroom teaching a day?  HA.

Lesson learned:  20 year old AMC had no idea what she wanted, because this is awesome.

Note: it's probably also awesome because I only do it for 2 hours a day.  All you full time teachers: GOD BLESS YOU AND YOUR AMAZING PATIENCE.

So, right now, I'm insanely busy, but love everything I'm doing... well, ok, I don't love ready 100 pages of the NAWM a day, but this too shall pass.

Thanks for reading!

Gratitude for Power Tools and A Fuller Understanding of the Elbow Grease Concept

I am grateful for my former-friend/former-student/former TA/current friend Marshall Todd Wootton for many reasons.  For example, in his blessedly organized way, he can interpret my incoherent babblings...and untangle my ridiculous pile of trendy/cheap necklaces.

To illustrate the ridiculousness, I give you this picture:

You are seeing Marshall and I's (*henceforth, team WootSnark) previous attempt to organize the jungle of costume jewels by hanging them on the wall in my apartment.   My landlady wasn't exactly thrilled about all of those holes when I moved out, but she thought it looked "so artsy and intriguing" (her words, I swear) that it compelled her to use my apt as the model for all prospective tenants.

(side note: I'm not sure if she believed that my artsy things could cancel out the dinge of the building, or if all of my neighbors were just that messy. . . .)

(also, in the spirit of full disclosure: I didn't have instagram when i originally took this picture, but since instagram makes the world look better, I may have utilized it here.  Walden filter for the win)

ANYWHO.  This solution was simple enough (nails + jewelry = quick art), but did a number on sheetrock, so I have decided against reimplementing this in my current abode.   The other night, when I was getting ready to go out with Becky, I realized that all of these necklaces were currently amassed in a web and impossible to separate.   Something had to be done.

THIS POST WILL GET MORE INTERESTING AND LESS JEWELRY-ORIENTED I PROMISE


Coincidentally, Marshall and I were both exceedingly bored on Tuesday, and decided to meet up for lunch.  Though the day started out innocently enough, poor Marshall was soon roped into project mode.   The studios of WootSnark would produce a board of vintage looking knobs and hooks on which I could hang the jewelry, and transport anywhere!

With aforementioned knobs, some wood, a can of spray paint and extra nails and screws in hand, we ventured back to my house to get started.

You will note that our supplies did not include power tools.

We believed we could nail starter-holes then screw things in by hand.  Theoretically, this plan is flawless...efficient, not so much, but feasible, yes.

Marshall constructed the frame, spray painting commenced and we munched on pizza while we waited for paint to dry.

Each coat dried for 15 minutes until the last, which we let dry for 30ish. That's a total of an hour of paint drying, folks.

Before we go any further, I want to say that the day had started so beautifully.  I mean, this was a part of our day:

Back to our trail of tears, Marshall and I begin to realize that solid oak is a little more robust than we had imagined...and that we were about to do this 11 times.  On that chilly January night, we sat there, applying body weight for torque on these little screws, wielding a hammer and contemplating the true beauty of power drills.

The first 2 knobs were easy.  The fourth, fifth and sixth were much more difficult.  Seven and Eight were total jerks.  Team WootSnark reached an impasse.  These two screws would not go into this wood.  While I searched high and low for any tools that might aid us, Marshall pleaded with the wood to cooperate.  We were close.

By this point we might have been delirious.  I found a gigantic nail and Marshall suggested that with larger starter holes we might make more progress.  That was when this happened:

Followed quickly by this:

Thus, with sore hands and sweat on our brows, we accepted our defeat.  We shall reconvene, with the appropriate tools, and try again.  In the mean time, the pile-o'-necklaces remains, and the Craft Project of Broken Dreams taunts me from it's final resting place.

I am reminded of the importance of having the right tool for the right job...or not bringing a knife to a gun fight...or something.

SIGH


We did have fun though.... I think.