I miss music. My stint in the Simmons a cappella group didn’t last long, and I really miss choir from college. But strangely, what I miss most is piano. It was my first instrument, but once I discovered that I could sing and that I loved it, I started thinking of it as secondary. And given that I’ve always had a problem with accompanying myself and singing at the same time (I have relative perfect pitch; rhythm is something I’m not awful at but have to actually actively apply my cognition to), I’ve sadly never been able to realize my dreams of being a YouTube-discovered indie piano pop superstar à la Ingrid Michaelson. (By the way, taking suggestions for activities to improve that cognitive skill, or for books that explain how it works and how I can get better.)
Missing music is kind of a crutch and a cop-out, though, because between crit/scholarly stuff, creative writing, and music, they’re always at odds with each other for position as my NUMBERONEFAVORITETHINGFOREVERANDEVERAMEN, and generally I am always required to be working on one, desiring to be working on another, and then missing the third and thinking that my life would be perfect if only I could be doing that instead. I have to do school, and the write-a-thon (plus my new writing stint that I will be starting soon at Paper Droids and some guest posts at other blogs coming up) says that I should be writing (as should my jealousy of how many friends of mine are getting published before I am), so of course I want music. And there’s absolutely no possibility for balance between the three right now, because my life just doesn’t have that kind of leeway in it. Continue reading →
Not really. Just Marcus Samuelsson, whose life experiences are similar to mine in the strangest and simplest of ways. I’ll be writing a formal review when I actually finish the book (46% currently; thanks for the ARC, NetGalley!), but since I have a feeling that review could quickly turn into just an ode to reading, I’ll do that now.
Reading is amazing when all of a sudden you find yourself in a book. I’m taking a course on developing collections for children this summer, and the other day my professor asked if we had ever read a book that really deeply affected us in a significant, life-changing way, and I really couldn’t think of that. I’m sure there has been something–I also have this problem when I consider whether or not I have any mentors or role models, and because I don’t think of things in those terms, I say no, but really I do have people who fit those roles in my life–but I racked my brain and could not call up a thing. Continue reading →
My parents have been visiting, and I’ve been taking three different classes, and a fourth starts on Tuesday, hence not writing or doing anything, really. Aside from being crazy stressed about things, I’m actually really enjoying summer. It’s pretty amazing to be in a part of the country where summer means you can actually go outside and do cutesy, twee things that previously I only knew to be possible in books and movies. I have walked around MIT’s campus and around the Charles; I’ve sat on a swan boat in the Public Gardens; I’ve been to Newport, RI; I know where all the good bookstores are now; I’ve been to Concord and learned about the Revolutionary War; etc etc.
I’ve spent a lot of time saying I don’t like it here, and I still don’t want to make my life in Boston. But all of a sudden I’m again more open to just about anything in my future, and I’m a lot more comfortable with the idea that I currently live here. It’s like I needed my parents to see me living here and being a grownup and being okay before I could believe it myself. Continue reading →