What?

A second mysterious phone call from Millsaps. I wish they'd leave a voicemail or call when I'm not at work. WWWWWWeeeeeeiiiiirrrrdddd.

A ghostly day.

In my performance craft class yesterday my professor came up with a very interesting exercise for us. She asked one girl in the class to think of a song that she was currently singing and create a dialogue about the song. Weeeeeeeellll, the song she chose was about a ghost who haunted the grave of her dead child. After the girl made this dialogue up about the song she decided to let the girl do the dialogue again except actually portraying the mother and she asked me to be the child, with a chair as the grave. If all this isn't crazy enough, what dialogue comes out of my mouth playing the creepy, dead child? "It's ok, mother, I'm with the angels." WTF. Two of my friends immediately started convulsing from trying not to laugh. Two of the voice faculty found out about my "performance" and saw me at a recital later last night and quoted me and followed it up with some ghostly noises. Sometimes, I feel like they just keep me around here because they think I'm entertaining.

Moral of the story? I don't have a career playing a creepy, dead child.

Later in the day I had a mysterious missed call from the Millsaps hotline. Ghostly coincidence?

Netflix

If I don't finish my Master's it's because our house just invested in a Netflix account.

Roomie #1 just asked me to help him shave the hair on the back of his neck. I love him, but that is NOT in my roomie description.

Germaphobia, is it really worth it?

The annual "crud" outbreak began to occur about 2 weeks ago in Baton Rouge, so me being the germaphobe that I am began taking "proper" precautions. I literally only used my elbows and rags to turn things on and off and open things, took a cold eeze every 2/3 hours, drank a shit ton of water, had gross dry hands from washing them every 30 minutes and where does it get me?

Sitting on my couch with the crud.

However, when I am sick I feel like I deserve treats so I tend to gorge on chocolate. This is an amazing thing.

On a completely different note, cops have been standing around the LSU campus with speed reader radar thingies. Did you read that right, STANDING. Yes, Mr. Police Officer I was running late for class and was going 50 in a 35, but you were STANDING with your speed reader thingie so you could only shake it at me. Thank goodness our tax dollars are going to good use.

And on another note, Louisiana legislature does not want to include the HPV Vaccine as a part of women's health insurance because it will promote promiscuity in young women. Hmm, maybe we should stop selling condoms and birth control because that could promote promiscuity too.

I want cake.

Alarm Clock Tango

Every morning at 1380 things go something like this:

6:45am- Roomie #2's alarm clock/cell phone goes off followed by the pressing of the snooze button.

7:00am- My cell phone/alarm clock goes off followed by pressing snooze.

7:02am- Roomie #1's alarm clock goes off. THE MOST ANNOYING SOUND IN THE ENTIRE WORLD. IT IS POSSESSED BY EVIL DEMONS AND IS THE BANE OF MY EXISTENCE. He precedes to SLEEP THROUGH THE MOST ANNOYING SOUND IN THE ENTIRE WORLD and I begin to wonder why in the hell I even pressed snooze. Then either one of two things happens: 1) I painfully sit in my bed for what seems like eternity (and what is actually probably 1 minute, maybe, or 2) I drag my ass out of bed walk in his room, go to his bathroom (where the evil demon lives) and turn off his alarm clock. After this I am so adiment on sleeping until my snooze ends that I go back to bed.

7:05am- I get a text from Roomie #2 saying "Hey, do you want to shower first or can I jump in?" I usually sleepily reply with "Go for it."

7:10am - My snooze goes off and I wonder why I put myself through this every morning. Someday I'll just get up when my alarm initially goes off at 7am and I'll be a much happier person.

So what I'm asking you is how does one stop being such a light sleeper or how does one even become one in the first place? I feel like this is the ONLY motherly instinct I will ever have. The first week I lived at 1380 I woke up every single time the air conditioner turned on because my air vent rattles a little. This is just ridiculous, people, ridiculous.

Hey, hey, hey!

I've had some blogging days in the past, livejournal, xanga, etc., but I feel like this is a good point in my life to start a new. I'm pretty sure this blog will end up boring anyone who comes across it, my life in Baton Rouge is anything but exciting, and my writing skills leave much to be desired (hey, give me a break, I've been studying staves and music notes my whole life).

See, now that I've finished that first paragraph I'm already wondering why the hell I started this thing because I have no freaking clue what to write about.

Oh, I know!

I've been discovering lots of new and interesting (and some scary) things about myself this year thanks to my amazing voice teacher. I'm 99.9% positive that she is from another planet and has magical powers. Star trek pin capable of "beaming her up"? Check. Yoda dolls decorating her office? Check. Believes antibiotics are killing society and scolded me for going to the doctor even though I couldn't sing for a week? Check. Daily clothes have themes? Check. (My favorite is a tie between her Korean outfit and her cowboy outfit. Fringe anyone?) Before an audition telling me she will do a trance for me? Check.

She has given me the best advice of my entire life. Of course she tells me it in the context of singing, but really it's great life advice. "Just Eff it!" and "You just have to stop caring about what you sound like all the time." and my favorite was last semester when she said, "You just need to let go and do something daring! Ooo! Lets take the entire class bungee jumping!"

I only wish you could hear her high pitched magical voice. I'm in one of her classes called Performance Craft too. Ya'll, it's the best thing in the entire world. I get credit for going to a group therapy session twice a week where we all sit around and talk about our feelings and then dance them out to world music. "Dance like your judges! Dance like your inner child! Dance like your higher being!" It's trippy, ya'll, real trippy and I love every second of it.

If it wasn't for her then I'm pretty sure I'd ran as far away as I could, well, not too far, because I recently found out that my inner judges tell me I'm a complete wimp and I listen to them too much.