logicbutton (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
logicbutton) wrote2005-11-07 10:30 pm
logicbutton) wrote2005-11-07 10:30 pm
(no subject)
Let it be known that ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
gweniveeve is an awesome friend and really good at taking care of drunk people. Like, she could make a career of it or something.
My experience with alcohol has been, up until this point, consequence-free. Also, I have a precedent for sharing two whole bottles of wine with one person and turning out just fine. So as long as I gavemyrtlelarson a couple glasses, I was going to be in the clear. Anyway, most of what I remember (quite a lot, actually) is what was going through my head--"crap, I can't feel my legs" "am I still going to be drunk tomorrow morning at 10?" "how will I explain myself if I miss playing the prelude at the worship service that my parents flew here from Minnesota to hear?" and so on.
Surprisingly enough, by the time I got to campus at 9:00, I was still drunk, somewhat doubting my ability to stand on my own power for more than a few minutes, and my heart was still going a bit fast (though it had definitely improved over the approximately four beats per second from when I woke up), but my head felt great. And...yeah. Despite the standard nervousness on top of my uncontrollable trembling, the performance was not bad at all, objectively. Subjectively, it was truly miraculous. I would have shared my amazement withoctopedingenue after the service, but the reason she was there was that her sister was there, and from what I've heard, she would not have been amused that octopedingenue has friends who show up drunk to church. Hey, I was sober by the time it was over, so there.
My parents and I went to The Flying Biscuit for brunch. We had a forty-five minute wait for a table, which involved a lot of difficult standing, but dammit, I was not going to pass up the chance to spend that time with my parents and get a free meal from a great restaurant. My mother had been worried, naturally, ever since she had noticed my hand shaking while I was sitting with them during the service, so she asked me again whether I had any idea what could possibly have been wrong with me.
"Um. Okay. Well...I'm not exactly hung over, but..." I trailed off. She got it, then relayed the gist of it to my dad across the table. It was true, too; I wasn't hung over, because in my world, being hung over involves having at least a tiny little bit of a headache. The weakness was more likely due to the fact that there was virtually nothing in my stomach, as my breakfast had consisted of a third of a slice of bread and a packet of Pepto-Bismol tablets. Yay Flying Biscuit!
I got, like, eleven hours of sleep that night. Hot damn.
And now for something completely different.
Dear people with crap attitudes,
If you're going to bitch, be consistent in your bitching. I seem to remember you complaining a couple weeks ago that you and your leet music skillz weren't being challenged, and now you're saying that there's no way people with no music background could have been keeping up. Make up your mind; is the class moving too slow or too fast? Considering that this is exactly the problem 100-level music professors have (half the class is starting from scratch, and the other half has grown up immersed in music but isn't proficient enough with music theory terminology to test out of the class), I think he's doing a damn good job. If the subject matter is so hard for non-music people, why did the entire class get As and Bs on the midterm, which wasn't curved and covered the exact material we'd gone over up to that point? If it's all so easy for you, why then, when you're called on in class, do you keep getting the answers wrong? Maybe you didn't realize he was eventually going to ask you to do something that required you to think, but you people are juniors and seniors. Surely you must know by now that even the easiest of easy classes will eventually require that you do some kind of work. You wanted to coast and focus on your 300-level classes? Great, but don't complain when you're finally held accountable for that. And if you still think this stuff is beneath you, guess what? You wouldn't be here if you had tested out, which you have now had at least three opportunities to do, and if you missed taking the test, that is your own damn fault.
Finally, he is not unclear in his instructions on assignments and tests. There is nothing unclear about "write two four-measure phrases (to form an eight-measure melody) in a syncopated rhythm," or "write the key signature for the given key" or "identify the errors in this composition's notation." He has never asked us to do anything we had not already learned to do.
On a more personal level, I adore this professor, and I am not going to join in your baseless whining about him. Quit trying to get me to.
Cheers,
flutingfrenzy
gweniveeve is an awesome friend and really good at taking care of drunk people. Like, she could make a career of it or something. My experience with alcohol has been, up until this point, consequence-free. Also, I have a precedent for sharing two whole bottles of wine with one person and turning out just fine. So as long as I gave
myrtlelarson a couple glasses, I was going to be in the clear. Anyway, most of what I remember (quite a lot, actually) is what was going through my head--"crap, I can't feel my legs" "am I still going to be drunk tomorrow morning at 10?" "how will I explain myself if I miss playing the prelude at the worship service that my parents flew here from Minnesota to hear?" and so on.Surprisingly enough, by the time I got to campus at 9:00, I was still drunk, somewhat doubting my ability to stand on my own power for more than a few minutes, and my heart was still going a bit fast (though it had definitely improved over the approximately four beats per second from when I woke up), but my head felt great. And...yeah. Despite the standard nervousness on top of my uncontrollable trembling, the performance was not bad at all, objectively. Subjectively, it was truly miraculous. I would have shared my amazement with
octopedingenue after the service, but the reason she was there was that her sister was there, and from what I've heard, she would not have been amused that octopedingenue has friends who show up drunk to church. Hey, I was sober by the time it was over, so there.My parents and I went to The Flying Biscuit for brunch. We had a forty-five minute wait for a table, which involved a lot of difficult standing, but dammit, I was not going to pass up the chance to spend that time with my parents and get a free meal from a great restaurant. My mother had been worried, naturally, ever since she had noticed my hand shaking while I was sitting with them during the service, so she asked me again whether I had any idea what could possibly have been wrong with me.
"Um. Okay. Well...I'm not exactly hung over, but..." I trailed off. She got it, then relayed the gist of it to my dad across the table. It was true, too; I wasn't hung over, because in my world, being hung over involves having at least a tiny little bit of a headache. The weakness was more likely due to the fact that there was virtually nothing in my stomach, as my breakfast had consisted of a third of a slice of bread and a packet of Pepto-Bismol tablets. Yay Flying Biscuit!
I got, like, eleven hours of sleep that night. Hot damn.
And now for something completely different.
Dear people with crap attitudes,
If you're going to bitch, be consistent in your bitching. I seem to remember you complaining a couple weeks ago that you and your leet music skillz weren't being challenged, and now you're saying that there's no way people with no music background could have been keeping up. Make up your mind; is the class moving too slow or too fast? Considering that this is exactly the problem 100-level music professors have (half the class is starting from scratch, and the other half has grown up immersed in music but isn't proficient enough with music theory terminology to test out of the class), I think he's doing a damn good job. If the subject matter is so hard for non-music people, why did the entire class get As and Bs on the midterm, which wasn't curved and covered the exact material we'd gone over up to that point? If it's all so easy for you, why then, when you're called on in class, do you keep getting the answers wrong? Maybe you didn't realize he was eventually going to ask you to do something that required you to think, but you people are juniors and seniors. Surely you must know by now that even the easiest of easy classes will eventually require that you do some kind of work. You wanted to coast and focus on your 300-level classes? Great, but don't complain when you're finally held accountable for that. And if you still think this stuff is beneath you, guess what? You wouldn't be here if you had tested out, which you have now had at least three opportunities to do, and if you missed taking the test, that is your own damn fault.
Finally, he is not unclear in his instructions on assignments and tests. There is nothing unclear about "write two four-measure phrases (to form an eight-measure melody) in a syncopated rhythm," or "write the key signature for the given key" or "identify the errors in this composition's notation." He has never asked us to do anything we had not already learned to do.
On a more personal level, I adore this professor, and I am not going to join in your baseless whining about him. Quit trying to get me to.
Cheers,
flutingfrenzy