I did it! I DID IT!!

I made it from August 6 to October 1 with no paycheck AND (most importantly) without having to sell a kidney on the black market! Hooray!

I would like to thank my wonderful mommeh and younger brother for very generously donating a Chevron gas card to the Pathetic Thirty-Year Old Musician and Educator Daughter Slash Sister Who Still Cannot Manage To Finance Her Own Daily Existence Fund.

This should make up (kind of) for the self-inflicted dairy poison-fest from Saturday.

Let the records show that, tonight, I successfully made and ate quinoa (that's KEEN-wah to you) for the first time ever and the results were both nutritious and delicious. If I were a better blogger, I would get my butt off the couch and take a picture of the leftovers and post them here. But I am not a better blogger. I am a lazy blogger.

Anyway, I made chicken fajitas for dinner with quinoa and vegetables on the side. It gained Schmooblebutt's hearty approval. I am confident it would also have earned BB's enthusiastic approval if I had allowed her a (theoretical*) under-the-table treat, which I didn't because I do not want her eating anything outside of her usual kibble until she stops having abnormal poops.


* We do not own a dining table. We are crude couch eaters.

It's been a while, yes?

That's because I've been too busy working and not sleeping enough to blog. Blahg, rather.

So I have officially put on my protest pants and cancelled all of my classes tomorrow because:

1. I am right on schedule, if not ahead, in all of my classes

and

2. therefore, deserve to not go in to work for a day goddamnit.

Also, I have been in and out of feeling slightly puke-ish for the last few days*, which I am taking as further reason for me to linger in bed past 6am tomorrow morning.

Other things I would talk at greater length about if I had the wherewithall:

• Payday is this Friday. EFFING PAYDAY IS FINALLY FREAKING HERE ON FRIDAY. I shall tremendously enjoy the $20 that will be leftover after I pay my share of rent and all of the bills that I have mentally put in the Hypothetical Box of Very Bad Things That I Like To Be in Denial About When I Am Poor for the past few weeks.
• The music department at the university for which I teach moved into our brand new multi-million dollar building this year. The building is absolutely beautiful and so much more gigantic than the previous building, which resembled a modest 1950s bomb shelter. Anyway. I have my own office on the second floor sandwiched between the two heads of the Theory and History deparment, both of whom have been teaching for a combined total of I think twenty million years and just a few steps down the hall from the main classrooms where I teach my classes. It's not a bad space. Except that the head of our department instituted a rule of no food or drinks on the second floor (something lame having to do with the new carpeting and blah blah blah). Which means no coffee on the second floor. Which means no coffee for Ysabel in her office. And no coffee for Ysabel in the classrooms where she attempts to teach Music Theory coherently at 8am. There's really nothing I can say about this except: IT SUCKS.
• Last week, Schmoobs and I awoke at 5am to the sounds of rustling in the kitchen. Luckily, it wasn't Knuckles coming to molest me in the middle of the night. However, it was BB eating her way through a mountain of garbage that she had gotten into by tearing into a garbage bag full of our kitchen trash that I had taken out of the can but forgotten to take out to the dumpster. I have no idea what she had managed to eat before we caught her, but she has had soft-serve coming out her butt ever since then and it is only now getting better. Poor BB. Poor BB's sphincter. 

* The fact that Schmoobs took me out on Saturday night and I chose to eat a) a cheese pizza, b) a side of mac and cheese, c) a pumpkin spice latte inspired cocktail, D) ALL OF THE ABOVE may or may not have something to do with this.

I better get at least some money from my clarinet students today.

Can payday hurry up and get here already? For realz.

Also, I think I went way too fast in my Theory I class today and thoroughly frustrated and befuddled all my  poor students. Blech. I hate when that happens. Note to self: seventh chords and chord inversions in figured bass notation are much less confusing a decade after learning about them than when somebody is speaking mumbo jumbo to you about it for the first time in your life ever. I guess a review session is on the books for Friday. Mergh.

Reasons I know I am PMSing.

1. My breasticles hurt like a mofo.

2. Three days ago my dinner was:

• half a slab of leftover ribs that wasn't even fully reheated
• one roasted chicken drumstick
• two chocolate and marshmallow pinwheel cookies
• two sticks of beef jerky
• a handful of Mike and Ikes
• a Snap Pea-irinha

3. Two days ago my lunch was:

• one gigantic chipotle fried chicken breast
• half of a leftover Big Mac (yes, I said leftover Big Mac)
• half a tub of broccoli salad
• two chocolate and marshmallow pinwheel cookies
• a handful of deep fried peanuts, including shell
• a handful of dried cranberries

4. Yesterday my lunch was:

• stale chips and salsa
• two chicken strips
• a small serving of french fries
• one avocado (yep, just one entire plain avocado)
• two chocolate and marshmallow pinwheel cookies
• a handful of Wheat Thins
• a handful of dried cranberries
• a glass of soy milk on ice

*burp*

Also:

5. Schmoobs angerrred me on Saturday morning (Why are boys such dummies? Seriously. Someone answer this question.) and I am now in Day Three of The Silent Treatment. HULK SMASH!!! I may agree to peace negotiations soon.

I hate you Monday. I think we should see other people.

You know what else I don't like? Not being able to troll Facebook and read blogs during my hour break between classes because I need to use my laptop for me Music Lit class and I forgot my charger at home. Mergh. What, I'm supposed to be productive or something??

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

***UPDATED***

Say whaaaaat?! Gimme gimme gimme!!!

I love you Friday. Wanna make out?

Guess who gets to sleep in tomorrow? This girl! And the day after that, too?! This girl again! 

This brings me so much tremendous joy that I don't even care that I am now suffering from consumption again. Note: allergies + cold + overconfidence in my capacity to wean self off too-expensive asthma meds = nonstop coughing and wheezy breathing that feels like my windpipe is made of tissue paper with holes poked through it.

Who cares?! It's Friday!!

Reason #481516108 why Ysabel is totally awesome.

Because I totally overworked (but not really) my Ear Training classes on Tuesday - honestly, I just efficiently got through two planned days of lesson and exercises in one class period - so that they (and by "they" I mean "I") could have today off. Praise Jeebus, Hallelujah!

So I totally stayed up watching bad television until 2am and then slept in this morning...until 7am.

Speaking of Ear Training, in So Unexpected That I Think Hell Actually Froze Over news: I am really enjoying teaching Ear Training, you guys. And this was the class that I was dreading the most. Because, honestly. Who wants to teach freshman college music majors how to be able to sing specified intervals and written music on sight and notate music on a sheet of manuscript paper after listening to it only a few times? Especially when you virtually faked your way to your A in Sight Singing in undergrad? And let's not even talk about solfege, mkay? But I totally like it. Mainly because I actually think that my students are actually learning from what we do in class. And I actually think they are starting to appreciate more and more what we do in class. And I am totally kicking the metaphorical butt of the tenured professor who teaches the other section of Freshman Ear Training and who has been on faculty at the university for over forty freaking years. In fact, just this week, I had one of the students in his class transfer into mine because she was getting so frustrated and had heard that my students were doing well. Yay. Pat self on back.

See, here's the thing about Ear Training: Unless a student has perfect pitch, or just a naturally acute sense of aural skills already (which few people do), I fully believe that you have to do a tremendous amount of very basic, fundamental, steady, and very gradually cummulative exercises that involve a lot of interval, scale and arpeggio singing. All before you even introduce the idea of melodic dictation to the class. Because if you stand up in front of a class of young students and jump right in on the dictation (which I think is what the other class did), without setting down the foundation first, there's no way for them to succeed. And knowing what I believe to be the common pitfalls associated with beginning Ear Training, such as a student's discomfort with singing in general, or especially the 18 year old males who don't even know what register their voice is comfortable with and, hence, can't match a pitch with the piano to save their life, make it easy to identify and confront those issues first in order to make the students comfortable and not overwhelmed right at the beginning. Blah blah blah. I'm talking too much.

Okay, and this is totally going to be my last blatantly self-congratulatory story (for today): A week ago, I passed by the flute professor in the hall and she stopped me and said, "Ysabel. My students just looove you." And I was all, "Really?! Who? What class are they talking about? That's weird...Haha..." And she specified one of the flute students in one of my Ear Training classes. Because this was before I had heard the horror stories about the other Ear Training section, and because I constantly assume that I am doing, at best, a mediocre job compared to someone who has decades and decades of experience, I said, "Oh, haha...well, we haven't covered too much yet. The semester is still young..." And she said, "I don't think she meant that you were easy. The students just feel like you really want them to do well and it shows in your teaching." And I DO, you guys! I guess this is what makes people decide to become teachers. It's certainly not the 6am wake up calls and $800 per credit hour per semester adjunct instructor salary. Anyway.

And on the flip side (life is all about balance, after all), I went to the post office this morning to mail a piece of music to a friend of mine and my debit card was totally declined. You guys. I swore I had [more than $5.90]  in there. So I embarrasedly (?) apologized to the very nice gentleman behind the counter who offered to hold onto my package while I went to the Bank of America down the street. Apparently, they had gone ahead and completely invalidated my debit card that doesn't expire until November, even though I hadn't even authorized the new debit card that I got in the mail two days ago. Ugh. Getting denied at the post office and then going back with my tail between my legs and a bit of cash in my wallet (hooray for the two clarinet students who paid me for their lesson this week!) and explaining that I wasn't a deadbeat was SUPER FUN. I highly recommend it. NOT.

Anyway, now I'm licking my wounded ego by sitting in Star*ucks where I have used part of my lessons money to buy myself a Grande Soy Peppermint Latte.


ps. So, I'm pretty sure that my thoughts about applying to the University of Hawaii for my PhD went from an "Initial Flight of Fancy" to "Totally Serious Plan."  Here is my Top 3 list:

1. NYU
2. Stanford
3. University of Hawaii at Manoa

Here is my general list of other schools, in no specific order:

USC
UCLA
UC Berkeley
Michigan
Oregon
Washington
Columbia
Harvard
Yale

Thoughts? Give them to me. Along with your milk money.

Quandary.

It is 10am and I have a one hour break between classes. Hence, I am drinking coffee in the faculty workroom. Inside said faculty workroom is also half of a chocolate cake brought in yesterday by somebody. I think it was our head band director. I would like to eat said chocolate cake for breakfast. I already lifted the lid and grabbed a small piece (it was already broken off) with my fingers to taste and it is moist and delicious and would go swimmingly with my mug of mediocre office coffee. But if I were to properly slice off a piece and sit down at a table and enjoy it, I fear being spotted by a fellow faculty member and being judged for eating chocolate cake for breakfast. Thoughts?

Note: That piece I tasted was REALLY yummy.

Also note: I am very hungry.

I'm blogging now because Schmoobs is watching Sunday Night Football on the television and the Niners aren't playing.* Boooooring.

1. I just came back from taking BB outside for her nightly post-dinner walk and she pooped out a turd that was literally the length of my forearm. I am not kidding you. Just be thankful that I spared posting a picture of it. But where did it all come from? It was pretty much the length of her entire torso. Yikes.


2. This had better be one EXCELLENT pair of running socks:

3. Do I really have to go back to work tomorrow? It seems inherently wrong that I should be getting up at 6am five days a week in order to begin teaching classes at a university an hour away by 8am everyday when, not only do I have over two weeks yet until my first paycheck since early August, but I haven't even received my adjunct contract yet, meaning that I have no idea what I'm even getting paid. Blergh. I sort of had an emotional breakdown about that this morning, and sweet lovable Schmoobins took me out to lunch and to buy some essentials at Target. This was prompted by his waking up and finding me sulking on the couch:

Schmoobins: "Hon...do you want to do something today? Maybe go see a movie and go get some food?"

Ys: "I. CAN'T. SPEND. ANY. MONEY." *shrieks like a howler monkey*

4. Would it be so terrible of me to apply for the Ph.D program in Musicology at the University of Hawaii? So what if I just want an excuse to run away to Hawaii and eat shaved ice and become a surfer groupie? I mean, I'd find some time to study and research and write, I'm sure. Like when I'm not crashing luaus and reenacting scenes from LOST with my digital camera?


5. I'm SO not one to "like" things on Facebook except the occasional friend's entertaining status update, but one of my friends liked this, and it totally made me Laught Out Loud:

* They played earlier and it wasn't pretty. Let us not speak about it.

Well, it was a good four months...

So we have cable television again as of ten minutes ago. Honestly? I didn't really miss it much at all. The only time I truly lamented not having television was when I realized at Brevard that I was missing this summer's season of Big Brother. But, truly, I was too busy suffering from The Burning Uterus from Hell and dodging the stealthy attacks of murderous hillbillies riding bears through the mountains to really notice. Plus, I had my LOST DVDs to keep me warm at night. And back here in Texass, the interwebz and its Hulu-ey goodness provided ample amounts of entertainment when needed and when I wasn't busy going to bed shortly after the sunset like a good little geriatric (seriously, I passed out at 9 freakin' o'clock last night) who has to get up at 6am every morning. Also, I have my LOST DVDs to keep me warm at night.

Anyway, I was happily living this new cable-free life while, simultaneously, Schmoobins was gradually losing his mind (and soul) with every breath that he took that did not involve college football on the television. I think the turning point was earlier this week when he sat down on the couch after coming home from work and said, "Ys... Do you think we can look into getting cable? Like, soon? I really need to watch football. Everybody else gets to watch football. But I get to read about it. ...I just get to read about it." You guys, I seriously think he had tears in his eyes.

So I beckoned Dish Network (I am SO over AT&T, but that's another story) to come to our condo posthaste and they came over this afternoon and set it all up. After I gave them Schmoobz' credit card (remember how I only have $42?). Also: the big burly cable guy was totally making goo goo ga ga baby noises at BB the whole time. Nice.

Anyway, I sent Schmoobs this picture text since he's at work:

It's only the second week of school, fer cryin' out loud!

Dear student(s),

What part of "An absence due to sickness will only be excused with a doctor's note. If you miss a test due to sickness and do not have a doctor's note, you will not be permitted to make up the test." on the syllabus that we went over the first day do you not understand?

Yeesh. Oh, I am ever so glad that you are feeling much better! So much so that you were able to snap a photo of you smiling with your boyfriend and make it your new Facebook profile picture just a few hours after being so deathly ill that you had to miss the very first Music Theory quiz of your entire music major career. Perhaps you should have rethought your decision to send me a Facebook friend request, dear. Whoops!

I'm just a little bit in love with my new blog design.

Also: whatever you plan on fixing for dinner (or as Southerners like to say, "supper") tomorrow, do yourself a favor and make a plate of this for your side salad:

Grab a handful of baby greens and delicious peppery arugula.
Top with a smattering of very thinly sliced white onion.
Throw in a dash of salt and black pepper.
Squeeze on top the juice of one orange slice.
Drizzle my nizzle on top a few dashes of balsamic vinegar.
Drizzle fo shizzle very lightly on top a bit of honey (maybe half a teaspoon?)
Top with a medium-boiled egg, sliced.

You're welcome.

(I would imagine that if you were to add some grilled chicken or salmon on top, this would make a fine meal unto itself.)


Note: I have less than $42 left to my name and my next payday is still a ghastly three weeks away. Considering it costs me roughly $50 per week of gas just to get to and from work everyday, the answer as to how I am going to make this whole equation work is all a delightful mystery to me. Perhaps I should pose this hypothetical question to my Freshman Success class just so they can practice their math skillz:

Person A has chosen to spend 7 years of her life earning Music Degree X and Music Degree Y. Music Degrees XY combine for a total revenue of $42. If Person A has 1/20 a tank of gas in her car currently and must subtract $30 from the original revenue amount, how many internal organs does Person A have to sell on the black market in order to get to Job C and Job D for three weeks? 

Sippin' on gin and...snap peas?

So I am sitting here doing everything I possibly can to delay writing up a Theory I test for tomorrow morning and, instead, am reading one of my favorite blogs - in particular, his recent post about the Snap-Pea-Irinha cocktail (note to self: MUST TRY) and it made me think about the fact that I totally succeeded in educating two of my fellow Brevardians this summer on the joys of a good gin and tonic. Dan was one of them, and the other was Ryan, one of our RAs. Both had had previous experiences drinking gin and tonics but, clearly as those were not mixed masterfully by yours truly, they did not enjoy the drink at all and had developed an unfortunate aversion to the liquor. In my experience, most people that do not like gin reference that biting "pine cone" taste that comes courtesy of the juniper base. However, this is probably due to the usage of 1) bad gin, or 2) improperly mixed gin cocktails.

So I proceeded to insist upon both of them that I knew how to mix a delicious gin and tonic - healthy serving of ice, one part gin to two parts tonic, don't skimp on the lime juice - and, lo and behold, after the first sip they were both reformed. Ta daa! I am awesome.

Also: If you like gin, go do yourself a favor and locate and purchase a bottle of Boodles gin. It's smooth and dreamy.

Also: This reminds me that I never did get around to posting those final Brevard pictures. Whoops.

Hump Day.

Today I woke up at the hairy buttcrack of dawn. And then I taught Music Theory. And then I ran down to the faculty lounge and guzzled a mug of inferior-quality coffee. And then I taught Freshman Success Seminar. And then I guzzled another mug of still inferior-quality coffee. And then I taught Music Literature. And then I drove home at lunch through a freaking monsoon where I decided that exiting off the interstate early would be a good idea because I LITERALLY could not see anything in front of my car,  except that the frontage roads were pretty much all flooded and Winnie the Trusty Old Toyota and I were almost swept out to sea. And then I got to nap for 30 minutes. And then I drove to Mesquite and taught five clarinet lessons. And then the tornado sirens started wailing throughout the city. So then I got to drive home at the tail end of a flippin' tornado. And then I made a baby greens and arugula salad with onions and soft boiled eggs and a balsamic/olive oil/citrus/honey vinaigrette and a tarragon chicken salad pita for dinner.  Accompanied by a Jack and Coke. The end.

Tomorrow I have to do nothing except watch my students suffer through their first sight singing test. BWAHAHAHAHA.

Qu'est-ce que c'est?orAtchoo, goddamnit.

What do you call that thing where you wake up at the butt of dawn to drive an hour to work teaching an ass-load of college music courses and then drive an hour back so you can shove some lunch down your pie hole then drive 30 minutes into the Metroplex of Traffic Doom to teach a group of rowdy, super energetic, mega loud sixth graders about the devil stick and then when you get home you have to use your few precious hours before bedtime to get your notes and lecture material ready just so you can wake up and repeat the same process five times in a row and the only thing that gets you through every day is the thought of how glorious Friday afternoon will be once it finally gets here and how heavenly the weekend will be especially since it's a holiday weekend so your mantra all this goddamn week has been, "Just get to Friday. Just get to Friday. Just get to Friday."?

And then you get to Friday and YOU COME DOWN WITH A FREAKING COLD JUST IN TIME FOR THE GODDAMN WEEKEND.

What do you call that again?

Hmm, "ironic"? No...

"Unfortunate"? Close, but not quite...

"EFFING BULL***T" (The asterisks save me from eternal damnation! Right, Mom?) is what it is goddamnit!!! AAAAGH. I mean AAAAGH-TCHOO!! Bleh.


UPDATE: It has been decided that only a Star*ucks Grande Iced Soy Pumpkin Spice Latte will cure me. That, and an afternoon spent wallowing on the couch in self pity while watching Season 2 of ABC Family's wholesome hit show Make It or Break It on Hulu. This show is so terrible that I find myself scrubbing my eyeballs out with hot acid and a scouring pad after each viewing, but I can't effing stop watching it. It is like low-budget porn for ex-gymnasts. Low-budget porn in which all the fun "...tricks" are very obviously done by stunt doubles. And after each "trick" on the "apparatus" performed by the stunt doubles the camera always cuts to a close up of the actor's faces for a shot of the "...landing?" Okay, I'll stop now.

Oh, and DJ Tanner is in it! HA!

Frosty Fail.

All week I've been craving some sort of milkshake-ish product to pour down my throat. It probably had something to do with needing something to drown the maniacal terror of teaching a 6th grade beginning clarinet masterclass everyday for the past week.* Anyway. I had it deeply implanted in the dark recesses of my brain that Wendy's Frostys were magically dairy-free and, instead, some weirdo technological feat of chemical lab-creationism and I thought, "Perfect!" I don't know why I thought that. I think I thought that somebody told me? Or that I read it somewhere? Or that my dairy-deprived soul wanted ice cream so much that it completely fabricated that whole lie in my head? Regardless, I drove through a Wendy's ...drive thru (duh) on my way to the masterclass on Wednesday and got myself a delicious chocolate Frosty and drank that whole mofo down like nobody's business.

And then later that night my tummy started feeling funny.

And then when I woke up the next morning it felt even worse.

And then when I got to work at 8am (barf) I was thiiis close to cancelling my classes that day because all I wanted to do was go back home, hug a toilet for about two hours and then lie in bed in a fetal position crying dairy-free tears.

But I plodded through all my classes and when I got back home, I spent the requisite amount of time in the Little Adjunct Music Instructor's Room and then I went to the couch and Googled "Wendy's Frosty ingredients" on my laptop:

Awesome.

So, in case you missed that, the VERY FIRST ingredient is:

And then a few ingredients later, there's:

And in case I didn't get the clue enough:

* Note: Sixth graders holding clarinets = Blaaaaaaaagh! ....VODKA.