Oh. Mah. Gawh.

I have just gone through the most traumatic toilet-related experience of my life (since 2007).

Details to follow. As soon as I am done filling the tub with scalding hot bleach and soaking in it for a minimum of one hour whilst rubbing my body with steel wool.

Blurgh...zzzzzzz.

You know what's sooo totally awesome? Spending your last two nights of sleep dreaming about being in front of a goddamn classroom of students lecturing about music literature. Especially the part where you wake up in the wee buttcrack of dawn to go in front of a goddamn classroom of students to lecture about music lecture when you just spent the last six hours doing it IN YOUR SLEEP. So in my estimation, I have been working nonstop (both consciously and subconsciously) for about sixty hours straight.

Oh, and buying $70 of gas in one day (Please forgive me, Al Gore!) is also super awesome. Especially when you had to buy said retarded amount of gas in order to get from workplace A to workplace B and back to workplace A and you haven't seen a real paycheck since before Christmas. Belated bah humbug!

Ugh, I'm bitter and tired and crabby. Only snorgling with BB will lift my spirits. Oh, and the fact that LOST is in under six days! And the Olympics are in just over two weeks!! Wheeee!!!

Taking a 5 minute break between teaching/not getting paid/driving, to stuff half a sandwich in my face and to say this.

People. How is it that I am teaching 2 3-unit college music literature courses five days a week and teaching a smelly buttload of private clarinet students in the afternoons and evenings and yet, my bank account as of this morning is at {average cost of one Star*ucks latte I'm not even kidding you}.

*longest most bitter sigh ever SIIIIIIIGH*

Confession. And redemption! And then confession again.

I totally skipped my workout on Thursday and Friday. Blurgh. BUT! I woke up this morning, gave BB some kibble and rice (her fave!), put on some sweats and my sneakers, cranked up the Maslanka wind quintets (nerd) on my iPod and toootally went downstairs to our gym, yo. So, I figure if I do the same thing tomorrow morning, I will still technically have worked out five days this week. Success!

Now it's time for coffee and some Jersey Shore on MTV. Yeah, that's what I said.

Three days in a row, you guys. I mean, this pretty much qualifies me to compete in the Olympics next month, right? Guys?

In other news: I got emergency-called today to teach an additional section of the Music Literature class.

1) Is this how it's going to be every semester? The not finding out you're going to teach adjunct classes until a week after the semester starts?

2) Hellz yes, pay raise. Now maybe I won't have to saw off my right nut to give to the IRS this year*.

So this officially means that I will be teaching adjunct courses five days a week in the mornings, and teaching a tremendously full buttload of private students in the afternoons and evenings. And still barely making ends meet at the end of the month. Ah, cruel injustice of the universe!

*shakes fist (which is connected to increasingly toned and sexay upper arms)*

* Still might happen.

I will do anything to burn any of this life/job-dissatisfaction off of my body.

Hey, did you know that I've worked out for TWO whole days in a row now? Yeah, that's right sucka. Any by "work out" I mean: 20 - 30 measly minutes on the stationary bike (because I've given up on my weak ankles' ability to run on a treadmill anymore) and a few minutes of some spot toning to get my badonk a little tighter and higher and my perpetually hungry tummy a little tighter and less squishy. In related news: Hey remember when you were like nineteen years old and could eat an entire pizza and chase it all down with two corndogs and a root beer float without gaining an ounce?! ...Yeah, I miss those days.

With the teaching starting back up again this week, the trick will be making myself hit the gym consistently if just for a little bit every day. Okayokayokay maybe not every day. Five days a week? ...Three? If I were to completely let an alien being invade my body, I might just go ahead and wake up at like 6 in the morning to go exercise before getting ready for work each da-- BHAHA. WHO AM I KIDDING? 30 minutes a day is my humble goal right now. Wish me luck.

What?! I can't hear you! My effing hair dryer blew out my eardrums.

Here's something else I learned during my recent foray into the land of People Who Actually Do Stuff With Their Hair Besides Towel Dry and Pull It Back Into A Ponytail: Hair dryers are EFFING LOUD. At least the one that I decided to purchase at Target yesterday. Seriously, it left my ears ringing. Unacceptable! Blurgh. I guess it's back to Target today to exchange it for a - hopefully - quieter and less shrieking-devil sounding one. How do normal girls deal with this stuff every day? Geez.

Ugh. Me.

Do you know what happens when you spend the last two or three years with super long luxurious locks of glory (i.e. so long and unmanageable that you spend 99.9% of the time not using any products or hair styling equipment with which to style it and, instead, opt for putting it up in a ponytail), and then spend such a fantastically long period of time (one month) visiting your family and friends back home that you start forgetting what items you do or don't have in your apartment back in {that land of which we dare not speak}, and then decide to chop off roughly ten thousand pounds of hair off your head while home for the holidays to a manageable enough length that it actually looks modern and stylish when you wear it down?

You will go to Target (yay!) when you get back to {that land of which we dare not speak} and use the rest of your Christmas Target gift card moneyz (yay! yay!) to buy a flat iron for your hair only to find when you get back to your apartment later that afternoon and will realize after already ripping apart the packaging and using it that YOU ALREADY OWNED TWO FLAT IRONS. Ugh. I even remember thinking, as I was attacking the packaging with a pair of scissors, "Hey, wouldn't it be funny if I found out that I already had a flat iron somewhere here?" Ugh, why don't I ever listen to myself?! My inside voice is always so wise...

Ugh. What in the hell am I supposed to do with three flat irons?! Anyone out there want one? Anyone? Bueller?

In other news: I'm totally applying for a bunch of arts administration jobs. This whole teaching a buttload (a technical term) of students and still not making ends meet at the end of the month has officially gotten WAY old. I'll let y'all you all know how it goes. If I get one of them that means I will probably end up working 25 hours a day. But on the upside, maybe this means I will be able to go longer than like two months without asking one (i.e. both) of my computer genius brothers to help pay my cellphone bill. Wheeee! Yergh.

UPDATE: Hey, you know what happens when you spend your Friday night at home on the couch, preparing syllabuseses and lesson plans for the upcoming semester while drinking a glass (or two) of red wine? You end up with a mild case of The Buzz and slurring along in sloppy German to the finale of Beethoven 9. The end.

ps. Aaaagh! Bernstein!! Why "Freiheit"?!?! It just doesn't sound right. Harumph.

Greetings from Denver International Airport (AGAIN)

Dear lady sitting directly in front of me on the plane,

Perhaps 30,000 feet up in the air with 45 minutes left in flight is NOT the best time nor place to douse yourself with 10 gallons of perfume. GAAAG.


Seriously, I think it was eau d'Lemon Pledge and Hibiscus. Also, I think the middle aged man currently sitting across from me at the gate sporting a mullet, cowboy boots, and a diamond stud in his ear should have the decency to at least turn the volume down to medium or low as he plays Pong on his phone.

In related news: Geez, I am one crabby little botch! But I have good reason (see previous post).


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Going back to {the land of which we dare not speak} tomorrow morning.

What is that old adage again? "A single awesome poorly edited photograph is totally better at explaining feelings than a really large number of words and stuff." Yeah, something like that.

Someday I hope to be so badass that I have a f*ing scorpion on the side of my car. Yeah, man.

Because Dan is bullying me into writing a new post.

I knooooooow. Doesn't it count that I have thought about writing a new blog post several times in the last couple of weeks? Isn't there some old adage? Like, "It is the thinking about doing something that is almost very nearly sometimes just as good as actually doing it? Especially when you live in the godforsaken state of Texas 85% of the year and you are too busy reveling in the glorious gloriousness of northern California over the holidays?" Maybe it's worded a little differently.

Hm. Well, as you can see, I had the brilliant idea of responding to Dan's comment on a new post, so this is rather like taking care of two tasks at once. Isn't there some old adage about that, too? Like, "Throwing two rocks at one poor defenseless bird is slightly less efficient than killing two partridges in a pear tree with one stone, you psychopath." Or something like that?

Anyway, you want an update on my life? Here it is:

1. I love California. And the people in it. More than I love like tolerate Texa(n)s (no offense, Texas).

2. I chopped roughly ten feet of hair off of my head. I may get rid of one or two more inches sometime this week.

3. I babysat a headstrong little 3-year old all by myself - for like FIVE HOURS!! - and lived to tell about it. I am doing the same as we speak. Let us all bow our heads in prayer.

4. Finally saw Up. What a cute movie. Pixar hits another one out of the ballpark. It almost warmed my heart enough to release it from its icy coils inside my cold, blackened insides. Almost.

5. My dear mommy came home from her extended trip to the Philippines and she brought us home some "blingies." Hilarity ensued. ...Maybe I'll explain another day. My mom's awesome.

6. Yesterday, I tripped and fell and managed to bend two of the fingers in my right hand in such a way that they are not meant to be bent and now part of my right hand hurts like a mofo. It makes the pressing of the keys on the devil stick quite challenging. Luckily, I don't have a friend's recital to play in anytime soon, like TOMORROW or something... Oh, wait. But apparently I am still able to power through the excruciating PAIN and update my blog because my friend Dan is making me feel bad for not doing so. Are you happy now, Dan?! Hehehe...

7. I continue to be as poor and destitute as ever. Maybe this is the year that I finally figure out exactly how to fix and rearrange my life so as to make me more fulfilled with my job situation, as well as make my bank account more full-filled with the cash situation. Here's to hoping! Good riddance to 2009 and welcome to 2010! Isn't there an age-old saying about this as well? "In the dime, I gets mine!"