A tale of two apartments

Actually, it's the same apartment, but photographed on different dates.

1. Before June 10:

2. Current state of affairs
Same room, on 16 June:
No wall decor, and no furniture-- at least in the living and bedrooms.

However, it's much improved from how it looked just 2 days ago:
And the bedroom:
Not that I ever had that much furniture to begin with, but kindof looks spacious w/o the furniture.
(Sigh.)

Men--vain or illogical?

Why are men so damn vain? But before we ponder this, here's a GRE math question:

Marsha, a half-time student who works full-time, does not have a lot of free time. She told her friend Fred that she did not have time this weekend to do dinner, because she was studying for exams. Which of the following activities would Marsha most likely agree to, if Fred were to ask her to join him?:

a) A study-break that involved getting frozen yogurt on campus (~30-40 minutes)
b) a casual dinner at a Thai place (~1-1.5 hours)
c) formal sit-down multi-course dinner (3+ hours)
d) dinner and concert or opera in the city (~6-7 hours)
e) Going to see the Ring cycle

But to return to the question of vain men who think d is the answer. . .

Ok, it's not that I'm not interested in you. But I have too much going on right now to have the energy to pursue this. People really don't seem to understand this. Really it baffles me, b/c my gender seems to get the whole "sorry, I'm too preoccupied to hang out right now" thing. I sure as hell get it. If someone-- friend, love interest, etc. told me, "hey, I'm going to be busy these next few weeks and might not have time to hang out much", I'll call or email to check up on them-- maybe invite them for a quick tea or something, but otherwise, give that person space, until they are done with whatever they need to do. But guys. Eh. Why do you people not get it? Also, if I don't have time to do dinner with you, why, why, why do you think I have time to go see a 3-hour opera with you? In the city? Really. I DON'T UNDERSTAND YOUR GENDER. Because you're not the first guy who has done this-- which might mean that I'm being too subtle. But I think I told you very point blank, that I'm going to be preoccupied till my classes are over and that I'd have more free time mid-June-ish (which is now a lie, b/c now, I'm scrambling to move).

It's flattering and endearing and all, but I just don't have the time/energy for this right now. And ok, maybe I'm also slightly not as into it either, b/c if this were Mr. Guy-I-have-a-mad-crush-on, I'd try to find some time. For dinner, though. However, as I've mentioned, I'm juggling school and work, am trying to move in less than a month and now, I'm sick and miserably behind (to the point that I'm blogging). And we've already established that my brain cells can only handle two things at a time and I'm currently doing 3.5.

I don't mean to sound ungrateful or curmudgeonly (though of course, we all know that "I don't mean to do X is a signal that X will happen. . ..), but I don't understand how we went from "Sorry--I'm kindof tied up for the next few weeks till mid-June; but I'll have much more free time to hang out and stuff once classes are over" to "Wanna go do opera and dinner in the city with me?" If I weren't dealing with a move, and the end of the quarter and finals and final problem sets, then the answer would probably be a yes. But I tend to be very one-track-minded about my time and things that need to get done (studies, learning choir music, etc.) and get protective about my time, especially the more people pester me about it.

Or maybe I'm commitment-phobic, b/c he was fine when he was just another dude in my Tai Chi class. (Note: it may or may not actually be a Tai Chi class. But this internet is a small world, thanks to the power of Google, so if I write Linda's Pole-Dancing Studio, there's probably a higher possibility of someone in my class actually landing here. So pole-dancing, Tai Chi. . . it's all the same. Oh, except the partnering up thing doesn't quite work with Tai Chi. Hmm. Well, no matter. Just humor me.) We partnered up a couple of times and got along, so we exchanged emails. I should've figured out then that that was a sign of interest. Again, it's not that I wasn't interested in him, but if I'm taking classes, I hate that I'm like this sometimes, but the class and learning the material pretty much trumps everything else in my life--including even work.

Anyway, he asked me out to dinner a few times, and actually, each time, I legitimately couldn't, either b/c I already had plans or 3 out of the 5 nights a week (1 night a week, we go to the Tai Chi class, which leaves me one night a week to leave open for dinners, etc.), I actually have to work really late, to make up for the time spent in class. Then weekends? I hate when people start asking me minute details of my schedule, but I can honestly say that most weekends I've spent 80 percent of it working on school work. One weekend I played in a BANG, which meant staying up till 3 a.m. every weeknight to finish enough of the problem set so I can play guilt-free for six hours, and another weekend, I went out of town to see my friend's newborn, and 2 of the weekends, I helped a friend who was moving into her new house--but other than those aberrations, my life revolved around problem sets and exams. But I didn't want to keep saying no, so I finally had coffee w/ him one evening after Tai Chi class so I could tell him I'm-not-not-interested-but-I've-got-too-much-going-on-right-now; why-don't-we-revisit-this-in-3-weeks sort of thing. I thought he finally got it, b/c the every-other-day emails finally stopped. But no. I don't have time for a local dinner, so now, I suppose I have time to go to an opera and do dinner beforehand in the city.

Men. Sigh. Why are you people so damn illogical?

Bad Audience Manners. . .

This time, I was the one guilty of the transgressive behavior.

So a question to all you performer types. Suppose someone wants to attend your recital, choral concert, etc., but a)he/she doesn't have the energy to sit up, sohe/ she wants to listen lying down in one of the pews, and b) about halfway into the second part of the program, the person's energy is drained to the point of needing to leave in the middle of a piece.

Would you rather that someone like that just stay at home and not bother coming to your performance?

That probably would've been the sensible thing to do.

I don't normally go to concerts when I'm feeling, well, dizzy to the point of needing to lie down and not being able to make it to the end of the concert. But a)I have not been able to go to a single classical music performance since last holiday season, b)my friend was performing in this concert, and c) I thought some Haydn choral pieces in the reverberant Memorial Church would be a nice way to wind down the quarter. Also, this might be the last concert I might be able to attend of his, and he has always been a loyal audience of our concerts. So I went.

The place was barely full, so there were many many empty pews. Thus no one gave me odd looks when I occupied half a pew and lay (laid? layed? er, I think it's lay. . .) down.

The program was Haydn's Schöpfungsmesse and Missa Brevis. I was hoping that they'd perform the Schöpfungsmesse first, and then I could leave during intermission. But no. However, it turned out for the better, since I haven't heard the Missa Brevis before, whereas I've performed the Creation Mass before and so was familiar with it. However, I haven't heard it live in years.

The MB was lovely, except that the stuttering/hiccupping during the Gloria made my pew vibrate in such a way that it exacerbated my dizziness. Generally, though, I'm not a fan of the Brevis format. We've sung the Britten version (which has an awesome but ominous-sounding organ line) but I'd rather hear each line separately.

After the intermission, I stayed for half of the Schöpfungsmesse. I mean, I would've stayed for the whole entire thing, if my body hadn't suddenly rebelled and crashed. I found the next least disruptive entrance (loud brass, fortissimo section) and tried to exit as quietly as I could.

* * * *

I spent the next 2.5 days in bed, completely out of commission, so in retrospect, I probably should've stayed home, even though I don't necessarily regret going.

Trying to downsize, but blogging instead

What does one do with a beloved instrument that one no longer plays--an instrument that one has had since 14 and has been sitting and collecting dust for the past few years?

I guess the sensible thing to do, if one is contemplating downsizing is to get rid of it. But I feel like part of my soul would be going with it.

And so I'm doing the un-sensible and babbling about it in this anonymous introspective medium to see if I can sort out my thoughts. In other words, procrastinating from doing what I'm supposed to be doing--which is to figure out a grand plan to downsize.

I went through a box of old music hoping to get rid of some of it, but failed. The Wolfhart, the Suzuki volumes, the Carl Flesch scale book, the Barenreiter scores of Bach concertos, the used book of easy Telemann duets that I got in a small market in Debrecen, the Palestrina and Bach scores I got with the intention of playing w/ S, the piano book for the third beginning piano class I took one summer at Stanford, b/c in order to stay on as a research/course assistant, I had to take five units worth of classes. . .

This is the problem with "packing" up boxes from one's past--you end up spending more time unpacking and unraveling and very little actual packing ends up getting done. (Especially if you decide to blog about it in the midst of doing this.)

And how did a few sheets of music here and there add up to several boxes, I wonder.

Speaking of boxes, I should get back to the task at hand. (Yes, I have ADD.)

Things to do before I'm--well, I'm already 40ish, but here's a "wish to do" list, with no particular timeline, inspired by Yv's "Things to Do before 30" list. (You young one!!)

1. Continue to learn new words, which means reading lots and looking up words every time I don't know what it means and keeping a vocab list, which I already do.

2. Read all of Shakespeare's works. I think I've read most of his major ones, but I haven't consulted a list in years.

3. Read War and Peace and go through the "top 20" list I got from one of the fellows.

4. Be able to identify all countries in Africa. Actually, in general, I need to improve my geography.

5. Gosh, I would love to do calligraphy, but no instructors here.

6. I would also love to take up violin again and learn piano, but I don't have the time to do this right now.

7. Places I'd like to visit: Cambodia, Thailand, Scotland, Mexico, Italy (without killing my relatives) and many many more places.

8. Use my manual camera more.

There's more, but I'd like to spend the rest of this evening reading. So I suppose see you in a few months, since classes start up again next week.

Note to self

If your friend tells you about his composing angst and says something about his fear of not being able to compose "something better the next time", do not tell him that "well, Mahler didn't compose anything to match his second symphony after he wrote that, and no one seems to hold it against him. . ." because it will not go over well.

The problem with taking classes whilst working full-time

. . .is that I have virtually no free time, which is why this blog has been relegated to the back burner. One of my friends once told me that he can do at most two things before he feels like he's stretching himself too thin. He made this point to explain how he couldn't have both a time-consuming hobby and a girlfriend at the same time. It was either grad school and girlfriend, or grad school and time-consuming hobby, but he couldn't do all 3 to his satisfaction. I'm starting to see his point. Well, ok, there are people like Yv who can do a zillion things. . .but I am convinced she is superhuman, b/c she studies French, Vietnamese, writes lots, reads lots, does yoga, volunteers, and on top of this, does calligraphy. I am not a superhuman, so I can juggle at most 2 or 3 things at a time. It's not that I have zero time, but it becomes an issue of prioritizing and allocating time to 6 or 7 different things I want to do.

Since I've started taking classes, I don't think I've listened to more than 1 or 2 new pieces, which I realize is dismal. And live music? I don't think I've gone to hear anything since the start of the new year, though I intend to rectify this once opera season starts back up again in a few months.

One problem is that I get back from work/classes late, and then I'm typically exhausted/hungry. I've always got homework or readings to do, which by the time I get home from work, eat, clean up, etc., typically doesn't get started till around 9 or 10 (later if I decide once in a blue moon to take my bum to the gym, since I haven't had the luxury to go running or bike into work much anymore).

Thus I've been too tired/brain dead to give anything a serious listen.

I used to think that music (mostly classical, though I guess all genres) was very high on my priority list, but I've noticed over the past six months that when I get busy/tired, it is one of the first things to go. So in econ-speak, my demand for classical music (if we use time as a measure instead of cost)is highly elastic. And here I thought it was an indispensable part of my existence.

It's no wonder I have trouble getting my non-music-prioritizing friends to get out to our concerts.

Which got me wondering--why is music-appreciation so demanding?

One of the main things for me is that it's hard to break it down. True, many forms--symphonies, quartets and sonatas break down into smaller movements, but I hate the KDFC method of listening to just isolated movements. Which means that if I want to listen to Mahler, I need to find 1+ hour, which is hard to come by these days.

Whereas if I'm reading a book, I can pretty much stop whenever I need to, and pick up where I left off. Sometimes, If several days pass between readings, then I need to read a few earlier chapters to refresh my memory, but for the most part, if I want to read Tolstoy's War and Peace, I don't have to sit down and read it in one sitting. Not that I watch them that often, but I can even do this with movies. But with music, it's the whole piece or bust. I can't listen to just movement one of a
Bartok quartet and be done with it, or listen to a piece in 12-minute snippets at a time the way I sometimes read books or listen to a radio program.

To add to this, if it's a completely new piece, or something I haven't listened to in a while, or even an interpretation of a familiar piece, I like to listen to it several times (not all in the same day), perhaps listen to a different interpretation for comparison, so then it's not just an hour we're talking about.

Of course, since I haven't been listening to much, I haven't had much to say pertaining to music. (sigh)

I have lots to say pertaining to my life, but this requires allocating time to write something coherent.

The things I learned about people who love classical music

Ok, this is probably akin to beating a dead horse, and I have more productive ways to waste my time than to devote time to this, but I couldn't resist.

So what can we say about the top 100 musical selections that 6200 voters who purport to like classical music picked this year?
-Evidently, they don't like Haydn.
-They also eschew string quartets. (Boccherini's Fandango, which isn't a quartet anyway, doesn't count.)
-They don't like Bartok, either.
-They don't like opera (and the overture to XYZ opera doesn't count)
-. . .or choral works for that matter.
-I'm fine with them liking Pachelbel, but picking it over Mozart's Jupiter Symphony? For reals?
-They also prefer Eric Satie's Gymnopedies to Brahms PC2.
-They also don't listen to anything before and after a certain date, but we already knew that.

Who are these people and where/how did they come up with this list?
Do the voters select these pieces by themselves? Or is it a preordained list?

* * *
Update: I found the methodology. The list is preordained. So that partly explains the lack of string quartets, since I don't see a single string quartet listed here.

Very well, then. This isn't a top-100 list of listener's favorites; it's a list of top-100 pieces that the classical radio station wants to foist on to the listeners.

The proper way to create a list of listener's picks would be to a) eliminate the multiple choice method, for starters.
b) If you're going to list only music from say, 1700 to 1900, then don't call it the poll for "the best musical piece of all time".
c) Since you're just asking participants to pick one piece, listing the top 100 of these selections seems like overkill. How about just listing the top 10 or 15?
d) The rankings displayed on the right and left hand sides are a bit misleading. For example, if you look at the rankings, it looks like Zipoli's "Elevazione" moved up in the ranks from a non-rank last year to #82 this year, which I think most people would interpret as showing an increase in popularity. However, in this case, given the format of the survey, this just means that this piece wasn't one of the listed pieces last year. In other words, for whatever reason, the surveyer didn't find "Elevazione" foist-worthy last year, whereas this year, they did.

I suppose it would be cynical of me to suggest that this whole poll thing is not really a "listener poll", but a way for radio stations to legitimize and validate the vapidly tuneful do-re-mi repertoire they continute to play and then pat themselves on their back for the good job they have been doing.

Crying. . .

Two things moved me to tears today.
First, I listened to MLK's speech for the n-zillionth time.

But this time, on the heels of what is about to happen tomorrow, it made me cry.

Now, I'm listening to our choir singing Pablo Casals' Nigra Sum, which uses text from Song of Solomon in the Old Testament. It opens with "I am black and beautiful". Granted, the Song of Solomon refers to a sun-darkened shepherdess, and in the original context, the words narrate a love story, but I think the text is befitting to our current context—particularly the ending:

For now the winter is past, the rain is over and gone.

The flowers appear on earth;

The time of singing has come,

text excerpted from here

The piece is sensual and quite beautiful.
Today, it too, made me cry.

Here is a recording by a decent-sounding boys choir.

The time of singing has indeed come. Fitting, no?

And now, I should head to bed, so I can catch the inauguration bright and early.

Some reflections/rambles of the past year

Happy New Year to my two remaining readers! Actually, it has been weeks since I've checked my spy meter, posted anything on this blog or visited some of the blogs I used to regularly visit, so for all I know, maybe no one reads this anymore, in which case I can make all sorts of private confessions, call people all sorts of names, etc. Though I'd be seriously amazed if anyone stops by anymore, given the infrequency with which I have been posting the last few months. Or if I'm still on anyone's blog roll.

The last 3-4 months of this otherwise good year have been absolutely nuts (hence my long posting hiatus). The classes I was taking to prep for despotic regime studies completely wiped me out. Then there were the applications to despotic regime programs. And then just when I thought things couldn't get any worse or busier--some dunderhead rammed my car into my garage and added another headache and hassle on to my already-full plate of things to deal with.

So to be totally honest, at a time of the year when everyone is usually warm and fuzzy and happy, I have been a) miserable b)really annoyed, bordering on angry (at the idiot who robbed me of my much-needed and deserved vacation and made me miss the chance to spend time with my family and ailing grandfather), c)frustrated, d)wiped out, and just very negative overall, which is another reason I haven't been posting. Why post and quash other people's holiday spirit?

But that was 2008.

I'm hopeful for a much better 2009.

So far, it has started off on a good note. I had a lovely dinner party with friends to ring in the new year, which almost made up for not getting to see my family. I spent Christmas with one of my dearest friends and spent the past few days catching up with people I haven't talked to in months (or in some cases, years). I caught up with my childhood friend Oh-boe, and "cooked" more these past few days than I did the past four months.

Classes start up again tomorrow, so I'm bracing myself for the concomitant craziness, but the one (actually, two) thing that is finally off my plate is applications to despotic regime programs. I also finally have a functional car again. I'm trying not to think about all of the rules I broke and all of the stupidity and time (not to mention more of my savings than I originally planned) that went into buying this car that I'm only lukewarm about. Perhaps The Saga of My Car is fodder for another post, but ah yes, I was talking about trying to start the new year on a positive note. . ..

But before that, some reflections of the past year.

I did not go to a single foreign country in 2008 (a troubling revelation that I will try not to dwell on, lest I start harboring ill will towards The Idiot That Ruined My Vacation Plans and Totaled My Car) or read nearly as many books as I had intended, but there were two significant things I discovered/did in 2008.

The first is my decision to apply to despotic regime programs. Ok, whoopty doo. I realize that that in itself is not much, but it's more what it symbolizes--flux and new possibilities. I still have lots of apprehensions about this and the prospect of change it might bring about--a prospect I find both exhilarating and nerve-wracking--but I finally took the step to transform this from an abstract goal to a tangible reality. I'm on a trajectory to somewhere and something, which is a good thing. As frustrating as these past four months have been, I need to remind myself that I chose to do this. On a relative scale, four months of suffering and hardly seeing friends is a small sacrifice, if it leads to something better in the long run. (Here's hoping)

And isn't that what we're always striving for?--bettering ourselves, our lives? Finding that elusive thing that will make us happy with a capital "H"? I wish I could be happy just doing what I currently do at my (sort of) sinecure and finding other means of satisfaction via people and pursuing hobbies and reading books--and for a while I fooled myself into thinking that this is possible. I joined a choir that was challenging and fulfilling in many ways; I got introduced to a wonderful world of contemporary music and met some lovely people. . .but choir also sucked up all of my spare time, which diverted my attention from pondering The Big Life Question. Trying to figure out how to find an answer to this is what 2008 has been about.

No answers, alas, but some things I seek of myself: 1. I want to be in a different place (mentally) when I'm 40 (oh wait. I'm already 40. 45, then). I'm not sure if this is what Yv and Sage Broccoli term being "vibrantly alive", but at the very least, I don't want to feel like I'm in a rut. Perhaps I'm confounding Heraclitean flux with progress, but something always needs to be moving forward, somehow. 2. I need better balance between the various "spheres"--i.e. work, private life, friends, family, etc.--that occupy my life. Some people can fill a void in one lackluster area by focusing on the other areas, but I discovered that I'm not one of those people. I can have a great private life, family situation and fabulous friends, but this doesn't quite make up for deficiencies in other areas. The question is what to do about this. I'm not sure if despotic regimes is the answer, but now I wait and see, I guess.

Second, 2008 was a good year of discovering and rediscovering new (and old) connections. I blame Sage Broccoli for 40 percent of this. Through her, I discovered several lovely, witty, entertaining, and sensual blogs, and then friended some of the real live personas behind these anonymous internet ramblings and have subsequently gotten to know some of you via emails, comments we leave behind on each other's turf or status updates, etc. If you are such a person, know that you are part of my "highlights of 2008". I've also met some wonderful strangers both on this blog and in other parts of the blogosphere and on Facebook. Yes, Facebook. As much as I pooh pooh the touch-and-go superficiality that FB seems to foster, I have met some interesting people on it and have reconnected with people I haven't talked to or thought about in years. So here's to a year of discovering wonderful strange people (some of who might read this blog).

Last, but not least, (and still part of my discovering connections point, actually) I have wonderful friends. Usually, friendship is some sort of give and take relationship, but this past semester, I did very little "giving" and lots of "taking". Despite this lopsided relationship where my friends got essentially nothing out of me, they continued to feed me, check in on me from both near and afar, invite me to celebrate holidays with them, offer me math help, invite me over for dinners and various other things.

So here's to a better 2009 and to a year of forging new paths, connecting with old and new friends, discovering more great blogs, eating good food, and (I hope) more opportunities to listen to and discover music. A year of change, as someone put it.

It's getting late, so I shall post "My goals and aspirations for 2009" in another post. (Maybe in February.) Good night, my lovelies (my two remaining readers, that is).