<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014424806561378478</id><updated>2011-07-30T14:13:25.492-05:00</updated><title type='text'>fine, how are you?</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05704204213066914259</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/SVGlNCxsKHI/AAAAAAAAAIE/jo_41JVAQts/S220/Photo+102.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>33</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014424806561378478.post-8167966602101859533</id><published>2010-03-27T21:34:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-27T22:23:29.055-05:00</updated><title type='text'>it's coming back!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;So I decided that blogging is probably a good thing for me -- it's going to help keep up my writing skills (ha! as if I have any to begin with), and it's something semi-productive to do while I'm bored, which happens frequently at school (I'm pretty sure that I have moderate to severe ADD).  Anyway, to update you on the past 6/7 months that I have been totally absent....  School&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt; is driving me nuts.  That pretty much sums up everything.  It's been a tough school year, and this last part we just finished was our toughest.  But it's over now (thank god)!  But of course that cycle starts all over again on Monday.  Eh.  It's not something I really want to think about now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So today was the last full day of my spring break.  It's been nice to be at home, though I have basically gone to work with my dad every single day of the week, but that's ok -- I don't mind it so much.  Today we had dinner at my dad's office and watched "Fantastic Mr. Fox."  And it was good.  But it seems that every time I walk away from a Wes Anderson movie, I always feel the same.  I'm not sure how to describe it -- satisfied but curiously craving more?  Whatever that feeling is, I felt it again after watching "Fantastic Mr. Fox."  You know what?  It might have been&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; because of their prolific use of the word "cuss."  That charmed the pants off me (as did Ash, the token Jason Schwartzman character).  I think I just love movies where there is a character who just can't win because I can totally relate.  Though, now that I think about it, there are always movies about losers, but I'm not really sure there is ever a clear moral or conclusion at the end.  People will always be better, but try your best anyway or settle?  Whatever.  I'll just stick with: I'm different/unique/special/awesome.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And this is totally off topic, but for some reason, I keep thinking about Dash Snow.  Maybe because he just died?  Or maybe because everywhere I go in NY, I see his tag or a spray-painted obituaries by his admirers and friends.  But I always think about this one polaroid he took.  It's nothing spectacular, but it's just stuck in my head:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;  &lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/S67E7qy8YeI/AAAAAAAAAJo/qth0pAbI-Kw/s320/dash_snow_21.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453512728171536866" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I'm always driving at night, I always get a weird chuckle out of broken down signs.  Like today, instead of saying "Memorial Hermann," the sign lit up as "Memorial He mann," which I thought was hilarious for some reason.  It's probably because I like those kinds of mistakes.  Maybe it's the subconscious of the business speaking.  I don't know.  But it gives things character.  The world seems less perfect.  It's such a small thing, and you're probably rolling your eyes as you are reading this.  But whatever, it's the little things that get to me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had another stupid thought, but now I can't remember what it was.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm excited about the summer, though.  Not the heat part or getting to wear jorts part.  But this summer I get to work with a pediatric oncologist.  And hopefully (hopefully), I won't screw it up.  We'll see.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;OH!  And I just discovered the UK based Soundway Records.  I remember going into a record shop in Charlotte and laying eyes on the raddest cover that I have seen in awhile.  And the title was even more appetizing: "Nigerian Disco Funk Special."  I WANT TO LISTEN!  Fortunately, my sister works for her college radio station, so I got a copy of the "Ghana Special" record.  It's pretty fantastic.  I don't know -- lately I've been really fascinated by rhythms.  I've been perusing whatever bossa nova, afro-pop, and hip-hop I have in my collection.  Got to keep the morale up, I suppose.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 288px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/S67J5Py4r1I/AAAAAAAAAJw/lTv2HPluBh8/s320/nigeria.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453518184121937746" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, I think that's probably all I have to say for now.  Until the next time I get bored, I guess.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3014424806561378478-8167966602101859533?l=composition8.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/feeds/8167966602101859533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3014424806561378478&amp;postID=8167966602101859533' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/8167966602101859533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/8167966602101859533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/2010/03/its-coming-back.html' title='it&apos;s coming back!'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05704204213066914259</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/SVGlNCxsKHI/AAAAAAAAAIE/jo_41JVAQts/S220/Photo+102.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/S67E7qy8YeI/AAAAAAAAAJo/qth0pAbI-Kw/s72-c/dash_snow_21.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014424806561378478.post-6419864661287528930</id><published>2009-07-17T11:14:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-17T12:00:50.772-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Movies galore!</title><content type='html'>Ok, so my summer is pretty much been obliterated by my sluggishness and fatigue.  I have been unusually tired these past two months, but I guess there's also a plus side -- lots of quality time catching up with movies and books, which has been quite satisfying.  I recently watched &lt;i&gt;Black Orpheus&lt;/i&gt; (&lt;i&gt;Orfeu Negro&lt;/i&gt;), which is just beautiful and rhythmically addictive.  The bossa nova beats structurally complements and drives the straightforward plot, which is a modern reconstruction of the Orpheus and Eurydice myth in Rio de Janeiro during Carnaval.  It's an easy film to get into because the dialogue isn't complicated and you already know the plot, so it's nice to just be along for the ride and the clever twists on the myth.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Strangely enough, I think &lt;i&gt;Black Orpheus&lt;/i&gt; may have been my only foreign film so far.  Lately, I've been watching a lot of American films from the 1970s, which are interesting because the sixties was such a fascinating decade for me and I really never had thought to look into films from the 1970s.  I thought they would be cheesy and too much of a predecessor for soap operas and the terrible 80s films that I grew up with.  But much to my surprise, they are well constructed and are creative in their own right.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It started with Roman Polanski's &lt;i&gt;Rosemary's Baby&lt;/i&gt;, which was surprisingly convincing in both plot and production.  You would think that a plot about a woman carrying the devil's child would be ridiculous, but both the actors and director seem to try and put it into a more realistic context by playing with the psychology of the human mind.  Like in one scene, Rosemary seems to be going crazy and so she seeks her old doctor for solace, but unfortunately he, who seems to represent a society that she has been isolated from, does not believe her.  This sort of isolation is also explored in other 70s horror films, like &lt;i&gt;The Omen&lt;/i&gt;, which stars Gregory Peck.  However, it seems to explore the isolation between the world of politics and religion.  Of course, having watched these two films, I also watched &lt;i&gt;The Exorcis&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;t&lt;/i&gt;, though it was a bit harder to believe for me -- a girl's head turning 360 degrees and constantly throwing up?  The level of grotesqueness was a bit much for me.  But Ellen Burstyn, who was in &lt;i&gt;Requiem for a Dream&lt;/i&gt; and &lt;i&gt;Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore&lt;/i&gt;, was excellent.  Then... &lt;i&gt;Harold and Maude&lt;/i&gt;, which is such an enjoyable film, even though a 19 year old sleeps with an 80 year old (the film made even that a lovely thing).  And again themes of isolation come about, but this time they are resolved.  Unlike the horror films, &lt;i&gt;Harold and Maude&lt;/i&gt; make a more optimistic attempt at resolving these feelings.  Though considering when it was made, it is a statement to the younger audiences to live more freely and with purpose.  It is a film with a lot of things to say, but still it is so charming.  Ruth Gordon is simply delightful and hilarious as the jubilant Maude, and Bud Cort with his boyish face is her perfect opposite -- young and obsessed with death.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There have been some other films, but this entry is long enough!  I'll update some more stuff later. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3014424806561378478-6419864661287528930?l=composition8.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/feeds/6419864661287528930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3014424806561378478&amp;postID=6419864661287528930' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/6419864661287528930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/6419864661287528930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/2009/07/movies-galore.html' title='Movies galore!'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05704204213066914259</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/SVGlNCxsKHI/AAAAAAAAAIE/jo_41JVAQts/S220/Photo+102.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014424806561378478.post-5893460342664130495</id><published>2009-05-13T09:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T09:06:05.877-05:00</updated><title type='text'>summer is going good!</title><content type='html'>i did it!  i'm going somewhere this fall!  now to get a job to pay off all the future debts!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3014424806561378478-5893460342664130495?l=composition8.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/feeds/5893460342664130495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3014424806561378478&amp;postID=5893460342664130495' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/5893460342664130495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/5893460342664130495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/2009/05/summer-is-going-good.html' title='summer is going good!'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05704204213066914259</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/SVGlNCxsKHI/AAAAAAAAAIE/jo_41JVAQts/S220/Photo+102.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014424806561378478.post-5066119040184623523</id><published>2009-04-19T18:04:00.013-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T09:07:41.576-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Warning: LONG entry...</title><content type='html'>Apologies for not writing in about a month... Things were busy and then got really busy, particularly in the past two weeks: shows, surprises, interviews -- all of which equals exhaustion.  And I still have a ton to do before graduation, which sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it seems like these past two weeks have been the most exciting of my senior semester, and I'm kind of bummed that they didn't happen throughout the semester.  But nevertheless, I'm thankful they happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It starts...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;THURSDAY (4.9): Brian Jonestown Massacre show at the Exit/In&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amazing.  The band was awesome, the distortions were awesome, the songs were awesome.  But the fact that I had a big Latin test the next day and a paper due was not so awesome, and also the crowd was not so awesome...  Well just the sucker, who was humping the stereo, and some near-blackout girl, who was also trying to grind the speakers.  But seriously that show was awesome, and I can't stop talking about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;FRIDAY (4.10): FotC &amp;amp; more&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the next day, there was suppose to be the Flight of the Conchords concert at the Ryman, which since February I had lost all hope in, since tickets were $40 and sold out within like 15 minutes.  But then SubPop emails me and says that there are a couple of spots open, and I squeal for like an hour, trying to frantically call everyone I know who are big FotC fans.  But at the end of the day, there was really only one spot, so I had to make the phone call and tell everyone that they couldn't go, which sucked.  And I ended going to another concert, given by Rene Flemming, which was good, but the five or so encores she gave and the five or so standing ovations the audience gave was not entirely deserved.  But I guess I don't regret missing the FotC show.  I heard from the scene that the crowd was waaaay too into them, so they were shouting out stuff from the HBO series and other random stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;SUNDAY (4.12): Interview&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then that weekend it was off to NY for my (probably) last interview.  It was a nice place, but being stuck in a hotel room by yourself with two beds is kind of lonely, and also 2 whole days of traveling sucked a lot.  I was so exhausted when I came back on campus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;TUESDAY (4.14): Awkward Award Ceremony&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was uncomfortable hearing how great the student media was, when clearly out newspaper is disorganized and hardly readable due to poor grammar, and the "entertainment magazine" has no idea what is going on culturally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;FRIDAY (4.17): Booksale &amp;amp; beginning of Rites&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The library had an awesome sale.  I got some interesting books, such as a book called "Aberration of Sexual Life," which was written in 1937.  I mainly picked it up to see what the repercussions were of the Victorian Age as well as finding humor in it.  I would post one up, but they are pretty dirty...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then a surprise scholarship (what?!).  Then a surprise visit from the Music Director from 2000-2002.  He was really nice and had some great advice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And eventually it was time for some more shows.  First up was Okkervil River, which was good overall, but the second half of their set kind of sucked -- I think the energy was gone after awhile.  I'm not really sure what happened.  I caught the tail end of the Santigold set, which was pretty good -- she was a charismatic performer and her show was fun to watch.  Though standing next to the speakers during that set was not a good idea -- the bass was so strong that my internal organs are still rattling around.  And then Hugh started grinding on some girl, which was the grossest thing in the world.   But then Q-Tip came on stage, and that set was really amazing.  He pulled out stuff from his own solo stuff as well as a couple of A Tribe's songs, like Scenario and Bonita Applebaum.  It was a really fun set and there was a crazy fan next to me, who was spitting out the lyrics.  Then T.I. came out, which I originally was going to see, but I was way too exhausted from the Q-Tip show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;SATURDAY (4.18): Grimeys, DJing, &amp;amp; Rites continued&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the day started early at 9:30, so that we could set up the station's merch booth.  We sold a couple of t-shirts then stuck around until about 12:30ish to catch the Avett Brothers' set, which was pretty good.  The crowd was really into it and Grimey's was seriously packed from the ground up.  Then after being slightly scorched by the sun, Sam and I prepared for our DJing sets at Rites, which was right after Sara Watkins and Black Joe Lewis.  Though we were next to the stage and couldn't see the artists, the Black Joe Lewis set seemed to be pretty entertaining and they had a couple of pretty good, down-and-dirty soul songs.  It was nice to see that there are still people who take stuff from that era to heart and continue to keep it alive.  Then I DJed and played some Queen, Madonna, Blondie, and David Bowie -- it was a pretty 80s set -- then it was Grand Ole Party, which was a lot less interesting than I expected, though the singer was also the drummer, which I guess is rare.  Then it was time for N.E.R.D. -- which was a crazy show.  They played a great set, but the crowd got really out of control.  And considering that Rites is an excuse for Frats and Soros to get totally smashed, it is probably not a good idea to instigate 3 mosh-pits, crowd surfing, and fist fights.  It was a crazy show, and after being elbowed quite hard in the sternum by some jerk in front of us, Sam had to pull us out of the crowd.  But we stayed safe from a distance and when it finally came time to the Flaming Lips, we snuck our way up a little ways.  And although it started raining midway, the Flaming Lips show was still really great -- bright lights, confetti, streamers, a huge projection of Wayne Coyne's nostrils, a proposal, Teletubbies, a Madonna cover, sing-a-longs to Yoshimi, She Don't Use Jelly, and Do You Realize?  Yup, it was pretty magical...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/Seu6rErBrfI/AAAAAAAAAJE/J9tzf97IRJI/s1600-h/P4190084.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/Seu6rErBrfI/AAAAAAAAAJE/J9tzf97IRJI/s320/P4190084.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326556233447091698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/Seu7b1qbceI/AAAAAAAAAJc/n511IbRH27g/s1600-h/P4190090.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/Seu7b1qbceI/AAAAAAAAAJc/n511IbRH27g/s320/P4190090.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326557071231644130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, everything has been going great these past two weeks, but now the work has caught up, and I have so many papers to write and presentations to give... I can't wait for graduation when my undergrad crap can be left behind...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3014424806561378478-5066119040184623523?l=composition8.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/feeds/5066119040184623523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3014424806561378478&amp;postID=5066119040184623523' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/5066119040184623523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/5066119040184623523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/2009/04/warning-long-entry.html' title='Warning: LONG entry...'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05704204213066914259</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/SVGlNCxsKHI/AAAAAAAAAIE/jo_41JVAQts/S220/Photo+102.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/Seu6rErBrfI/AAAAAAAAAJE/J9tzf97IRJI/s72-c/P4190084.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014424806561378478.post-5066081696602661169</id><published>2009-03-22T22:37:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T23:22:26.129-05:00</updated><title type='text'>good things --</title><content type='html'>The 'real' world is soon approaching.  None of this jam-band frat mentality will ever draw contempt from my heart ever again (!!!) -- hooray!  Anyway, since I've been whining so much in my other entries, this one will be dedicated to the good things I got from my four years here -- and in no particular order...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Music/WRVU&lt;/span&gt;:  I love the station, and I guess the reason why I'm so angry (see previous entry) about things is that I really want it to do well, and I really want it to uphold its services to listeners, that is letting good music that hardly ever gets heard get heard.  I mean, that's what college radio is all about, isn't it?  A lot of bands are really wonderful and they should be heard!  I'm sad that I only have like 10 or so shows left.  I don't know what I'll do every week now...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Classical stuffz&lt;/span&gt;:  Classics is awesome.  I just wish I got started on my major sooner.  I regret not being able to take all the classes that our department here offers, like Akkadian, which was supposed to be offered this semester, but I guess not enough interest was generated.  Anyway, it's a subject that I think is important to understand a lot of things -- I mean the culture of the Greeks, Romans, Egyptians, Babylonians, and their neighbors has ultimately informed our own.  It's so INTERESTING.  And I guess I'll just have to continue translating random stuff from school like Horace's Odes and the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ars Amatoria&lt;/span&gt;, which I suggest everybody to read because it's hilarious!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Concerts&lt;/span&gt;:  I'm just really excited about the Flaming Lips (!!!!) -- whoa!!!  And it just almost makes up for the fact we didn't get to go to SXSW, though I totally missed the Flight of the Conchords concert (tickets sold out so quickly -- ARG!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;HBO&lt;/span&gt;:  I won't have HBO at home or ever, probably.  But I like watching the aforementioned Flight of the Conchords, and of course, Sam is addicted to Big Love.  Also they have some pretty good movies on -- Channel 27 introduced me to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Waiting for Guffman&lt;/span&gt;, which I still find hilarious...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nashville (specifics)&lt;/span&gt;:  Thank God for Grimey's, the Great Escape, the Belcourt, Pancake Pantry, Bookman/Bookwoman, Fido's, Korea House, Trader Joe's, the Downtown Presbyterian Church ('cuz it looks like the temple at Karnak), the music venues, JJ's, etc....  I only wish I brought I bike so I could go even further, instead of having to ride the bus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The University's Library&lt;/span&gt;:  It's given me a chance to catch up on my list of books/films/music, which is endless, but still -- I made a dent (kind of).  Now that I'm about to graduate, I might have to spend some money on netflix or start buying the movies...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Never become an alcoholic/skank&lt;/span&gt;:  I learned way too much in my first week as a freshman -- and I mean from others.  Man, they sure acted like fools.  It was ridiculous...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;New Words to my Vocabulary&lt;/span&gt;:  It's mostly 'sexual' slang, but now I understand a lot of Chris Rock jokes and most of the dirty jokes on the Daily Show!  And that's thanks to Sam, the pervert.  Just kidding.  He's not a pervert -- he just grew up around them.  Just kidding again.  You just learn these words as middle schoolers, though clearly I didn't because I grew up around other Asian kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ma friendz&lt;/span&gt;:  I like them very much and am very glad I met them, though I'm sad they are mostly all gone now, scattered around various parts of the country.  But we shall meet once again!! (once Bethany marries some boy -- so hurry up, Bethany!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sam&lt;/span&gt;:  I'm just very glad to have met him.  He's funny, and I like him a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11.  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Book Learnin'&lt;/span&gt;: I like to learn, and I hope to continue learning (?!?!!) next year.  We'll see...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope I'm not forgetting anything.  I'll talk more about the things that have been on my mind, but I feel like, at the moment, I should talk about something good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope all is well!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3014424806561378478-5066081696602661169?l=composition8.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/feeds/5066081696602661169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3014424806561378478&amp;postID=5066081696602661169' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/5066081696602661169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/5066081696602661169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/2009/03/good-things.html' title='good things --'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05704204213066914259</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/SVGlNCxsKHI/AAAAAAAAAIE/jo_41JVAQts/S220/Photo+102.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014424806561378478.post-9086438969288494963</id><published>2009-03-13T11:16:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-13T11:58:35.765-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh, Radio...</title><content type='html'>So as some of you (Bethany + Kristie, my sole &amp;amp; faithful readers) may know, I work at a radio station .... for 'fun,' or at least I thought so at the beginning.  Now, don't get me wrong, I don't dislike it -- in fact, the reason why I got into it was because I like music [A LOT] and the idea of getting to explore/share different genres/bands/songs/etc with listeners and meeting people, who were equally excited about music as me, was the ultimate lure.  And I love DJing: the people at the station know what they are doing (Kels, Randy, and Pete are the nicest fellows ever, and Ken Berryhill is so charming) and the listeners (usually) are great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the music director thing, I'm more ambivalent towards, particularly this past year.  It was mostly personal issues like with the media board.  They took away SXSW from me, and after Sam told me, I just started crying (I had been looking forward/working hard towards the trip for 2 years).  And then things started looking quite dismal on the indie musical frontier -- I was looking for a good records and only few came my way.  It was, admittedly, disappointing in that music for me (perhaps from being jaded by listening to so many bands that are trying to sound like the Franz Ferdinand, who in turn sound like the Fire Engines, or the Arctic Monkeys, who in turn take a lot from the Strokes) was starting to become predictable and unsatisfying as an art and general enjoyment -- I guess, that's why my show is so schizophrenic, as Pete had once told me.  I'm always trying to search for something new and interesting.  I also reckon that's why I like modern art so much because it's so immediately and directly different.   Anyway, I'm starting to ramble...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting back to the point -- As the months of being in this position dwindle, I'm starting to think about all the things I have done here and my experiences.  Did listeners discover new bands from us?  Do they even still tune into our station like they used to -- do we still have that credibility?  And most of all does music now truly lack depth, which brings up even more complicated questions that I'm not even going to get into?  For now, I guess, I'll just continue to sift through bins filled with music submissions and new arrivals, and hope for the best.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3014424806561378478-9086438969288494963?l=composition8.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/feeds/9086438969288494963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3014424806561378478&amp;postID=9086438969288494963' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/9086438969288494963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/9086438969288494963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/2009/03/oh-radio.html' title='Oh, Radio...'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05704204213066914259</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/SVGlNCxsKHI/AAAAAAAAAIE/jo_41JVAQts/S220/Photo+102.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014424806561378478.post-175886565020067158</id><published>2009-03-05T11:33:00.008-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T19:31:49.473-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Art-ttttt</title><content type='html'>It's awesome.  Here's a few that I'm particularly interested in right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Francis Bacon&lt;/span&gt;: A tortured soul, who doesn't believe in God.  He was a very interesting person, and I remember the first time I heard of him was from a oncologist, who really admired the tormented souls in his work.  Anyway, this &lt;a href="http://www.tate.org.uk/britain/exhibitions/francisbacon/interactive/"&gt;website&lt;/a&gt; (courtesy of Tate Online) has a really neat interactive room with his works.  It has explanations as well, so it is a great introduction to Francis Bacon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Hy Hirsch&lt;/span&gt;: Avant-garde filmmaker/cinematographer and does wonderful electronic work with shapes and colors in his videos.  Though because he didn't like much of his own work, it's difficult to know and understand the true breadth of his art and style.  Here is a &lt;a href="http://ubu.artmob.ca/video/Hirsh-Hy_Come-Closer_1952.avi"&gt;sample&lt;/a&gt; (courtesy of Ubu).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dan Flavin&lt;/span&gt;:  He is an installation artist that works primarily with fluorescent lights in a very minimal way.  He utilizes (and sometimes enhances) shapes of rooms and the colors (and limitations) of the lights to create beautiful pieces.  However, it's much better to see it in person than on a computer screen or a photograph -- for instance....&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JEFT_VM2Mgo/SF74m_amMKI/AAAAAAAABbY/EgQAvqZ0brY/s400/Dan_Flavin_4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JEFT_VM2Mgo/SF74m_amMKI/AAAAAAAABbY/EgQAvqZ0brY/s400/Dan_Flavin_4.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Jeff Koons&lt;/span&gt;:  He's always kind of been a favorite of mine, though I don't exactly agree with his 'Made in Heaven' series (if you are curious, by all means, look it up -- but I have to warn you, if sexually explicit images offend you, DON'T GO!).  I was lucky enough to see 'Pink Panther' at the Museum of Contemporary Art in Chicago.  I like his work because a lot of it incorporates Pop Culture, familiar shapes/objects, and kitsch in a charming way, but his pieces still say a lot.  He can be considered mainstream, but he still manages to remain on the outside of things.   And I think he just had a couple of pieces installed on the roof of the Met:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.trendbird.co.kr/attach/1/1401549229.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 396px; height: 304px;" src="http://www.trendbird.co.kr/attach/1/1401549229.gif" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are a ton of other artists that are on my list, but I'll save those for another day....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3014424806561378478-175886565020067158?l=composition8.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/feeds/175886565020067158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3014424806561378478&amp;postID=175886565020067158' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/175886565020067158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/175886565020067158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/2009/03/art-ttttt.html' title='Art-ttttt'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05704204213066914259</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/SVGlNCxsKHI/AAAAAAAAAIE/jo_41JVAQts/S220/Photo+102.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JEFT_VM2Mgo/SF74m_amMKI/AAAAAAAABbY/EgQAvqZ0brY/s72-c/Dan_Flavin_4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014424806561378478.post-6311815297333105000</id><published>2009-03-04T11:38:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T12:05:03.191-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Things I do not miss about home...</title><content type='html'>So I guess this will be the last time I will be at home before I graduate and probably remain home for awhile.  It has been a nice rest -- lots of eating, lots of sleeping, lots of watching movies/reading, lots of hanging out with my sister, etc...   But as always, I (an eternal pessimist) like to look at the things that make life terrible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Faux&lt;/span&gt;-Rich/Upper Middle Class Attitude&lt;/span&gt;: So I have a specific story for this one.  I was taking a walk because I had a really bad headache and needed some fresh air.  And as I was approaching the lake, a lost dog started jumping and sort of fighting with this other dog, which was being walked by this lady.  She kind of reminded me of the beauty &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;pageant&lt;/span&gt; judge at the end of 'Little Miss Sunshine' -- her voice was exactly like her and the tone she took, ugh...  So I run over to try and help her and her dog.  I grabbed the collar of the lost dog, and the lady just walks away without saying a word to me (except she sort of yelled at me for not restraining the dog, even though I told her that it wasn't my dog).  Anyway, so I'm stuck with this dog, who then keeps jumping on me.  I try to walk away, but it keeps following me and trying to knock me down.  Finally, the dog gets lays down on a lawn to scratch its back, and I took that chance to run as fast as I could back home.  It was a little scary.  My point is people in my city and neighborhood just expect things like that -- they have a weird sense of expectation because they think they are special and should (not deserve) to be treated like this.  What's stupid is the things I see on TV about the upper-class in Orange County is the exact attitude and personality in these people back at home.  So I don't know if this attitude sort of comes with the idea that one is affluent or culture influence (I mean, the way celebrities are treated and their lifestyle).  Who knows.  I'll just try and ignore them in the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Gettin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;' Fat&lt;/span&gt;: My mom makes delicious food, and it's hard to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;resist&lt;/span&gt;.  Plus it's girl scout cookie season (my sister and I just stole a box -- just kidding, it was for free...kind of...).  I predict a weight gain of about 10 pounds.  I'm plump and need to cut down on some calories... but after the break!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Traffic&lt;/span&gt;: People suck at driving here.  This is mainly a characteristic of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;faux&lt;/span&gt;-rich, driving their &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;BMWs&lt;/span&gt;, Benz-es, Lexus-es, etc...  They don't believe that traffic lights and signs apply to them.  And their teenagers are the worst.  They speed and cut you off.  I guess, really in an attempt to show (ironically) the 'greatness' of their driving skills.  Yup, I, for one, am VERY impressed you can drive fast and can surpass me, who is in a dinky 1992 Honda Accord that makes loud (and sometimes rude) noises at 30 mph.  And also I live right next to a middle school, so 8-9 AM and 4 PM is the worst time to try and get out of my neighborhood.  There are soccer moms lined up by the curbs blatantly disobeying the signs that say 'DON'T &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;FREAKIN&lt;/span&gt;' PARK HERE!!!' and their children! OH! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Tweens&lt;/span&gt; squawking away on their cell phones and engaging in their "social" rituals.  Not like I haven't been there before -- actually I really haven't.  I was a geek and was pretty much in the band hall until 6, when my parents got off work and picked me up.  The only reason why this really upsets me is because they are standing right in front of my mailbox.  Oh and the pollution they cause is terrible too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;My parent's (still) watchful eye...&lt;/span&gt; : Yeah, that's right.  I still have a curfew, of like dusk.  My parents basically still yell at me if it's almost dark, and I'm not at home.  They are scared of everything -- rapists, kidnappers, child molesters, robbers, car thieves, etc... and believe that everything that could go bad does go bad.  Obviously, I have had no traumatic run-ins with such maniacal characters, but I guess it could happen.  Still, I feel that my age totally qualifies for me being able to hang out later than 10, though I guess my immaturity would suggest otherwise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Being Pressured about Crap&lt;/span&gt;: don't wanna talk about, but it's something else I hate about coming home....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yup, like I said -- I hate suburbia sometimes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3014424806561378478-6311815297333105000?l=composition8.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/feeds/6311815297333105000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3014424806561378478&amp;postID=6311815297333105000' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/6311815297333105000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/6311815297333105000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/2009/03/things-i-do-not-miss-about-home.html' title='Things I do not miss about home...'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05704204213066914259</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/SVGlNCxsKHI/AAAAAAAAAIE/jo_41JVAQts/S220/Photo+102.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014424806561378478.post-2736985791615621984</id><published>2009-03-02T22:33:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T22:58:45.288-06:00</updated><title type='text'>happy new years?</title><content type='html'>I apologize for not writing in such a long time, but who's checking this blog now-a-days anyway?  So nothing much has been going on since last time.  I went on a couple of interviews --all of which were a little weird, but I mean it's hard to talk to someone who knows so much about you, and you hardly know anything about them.  Sometimes they are rude, sometimes they are nice, sometimes they are pretending to be rude but are really rooting for you, sometimes they are pretending to be nice and are really going against you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know -- this whole process kind of sucks.  And it's drained a lot out of me, and I've sort of taken that out on the people around me.  So I really, seriously, apologize if I've been rude or short-tempered.  But I'll tell you one thing I've learned in this whole process -- it's hard to know when people are really being honest with you.  I mean I guess that's something that I've struggled with a lot in my life anyway, but maybe I'm just naive.  I'm not really sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the good news -- I'm at home now for Spring Break after a rough past 2 weeks at school, which culminated in me punching a wall because of stress (don't ask) and going through a phase of listening to late 80s to early 90s post-punk/lo-fi type music (i.e. bucket loads of Pavement, Sonic Youth, Dinosaur Jr., Beat Happening and the like vs. my previous phase of late 80s/early 90s Hip Hop, which I have been slowly returning to).  This was good, since I really needed to catch up on the alt rock I could I have been listening to in my youth --I've been vainly trying to do so by listening to 'Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain' and 'Sister' like a bajillion times... each!   But ah, well!  It doesn't matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'll do some more writing tomorrow, and tell you what I don't miss about being at home...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3014424806561378478-2736985791615621984?l=composition8.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/feeds/2736985791615621984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3014424806561378478&amp;postID=2736985791615621984' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/2736985791615621984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/2736985791615621984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/2009/03/happy-new-years.html' title='happy new years?'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05704204213066914259</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/SVGlNCxsKHI/AAAAAAAAAIE/jo_41JVAQts/S220/Photo+102.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014424806561378478.post-178361836276925012</id><published>2008-12-23T20:58:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T21:11:31.178-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Holidays!</title><content type='html'>Yes!  I'm home at last... well, I guess I've been home since Friday.  Well, actually it took a while.  I was suppose to get home on Thursday but my flight got mysteriously canceled, so that sucked a lot.  So after I actually went straight back to my room and walked around Nashville then slept basically on and off, until it was 4:00 AM and I realized that I hadn't brushed my teeth yet.  After that I guess I kind of slept.  I'm not really sure what happened. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it was one of those weird nights where you have a dream and you think the dream actually happened.  Like that night I think I dreamt that I signed up for a class that I completely forgot about until the end of the semester.  So my GPA went down and the professor emailed me saying, 'You're a complete failure... You failed to show up to my class and now you get an F.'  So of course when I got up the next morning, I started to panic.  I checked my email and my grades and then I think it wasn't until 5 hours later I realized it probably didn't happen because my report card only had 4 classes.  My brain obviously doesn't work after finals or ever this semester.  ARG.  Anyway, I finally got home on Friday, and my mom and I got a Christmas tree.  Then we pimped it out and surpised my sister and dad, who had still been in Houston.  It was pretty awesome.  So I've been home for several days.  Not really relaxed -- in fact my panic and nervousness has just manifested itself into physical symptoms, like headaches, chest pains, and stomach aches.  It sucks.  I hope it will end soon because it really hurts...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, time to present a complete pile of mush....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/SVGmg88afiI/AAAAAAAAAIs/ss3HgB1UUWU/s1600-h/Photo+104.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/SVGmg88afiI/AAAAAAAAAIs/ss3HgB1UUWU/s320/Photo+104.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283186922927848994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is me and Sam.  We've been going out for about a bazillion years.  And we made it through this year, which has been our toughest.  Hooray!  We be awesome in 2009.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3014424806561378478-178361836276925012?l=composition8.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/feeds/178361836276925012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3014424806561378478&amp;postID=178361836276925012' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/178361836276925012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/178361836276925012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/2008/12/happy-holidays.html' title='Happy Holidays!'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05704204213066914259</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/SVGlNCxsKHI/AAAAAAAAAIE/jo_41JVAQts/S220/Photo+102.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/SVGmg88afiI/AAAAAAAAAIs/ss3HgB1UUWU/s72-c/Photo+104.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014424806561378478.post-6794194634484363221</id><published>2008-12-01T17:06:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-01T18:08:28.894-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Still Stressed!!</title><content type='html'>Ach.  So back to school after Thanksgiving...  GREAT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm constantly having mini panic attacks about my paper for a class.  It was seriously the worst thing I have ever written because (1) the topic was obscure, (2) I can't THINK! or write, (3) I was under a lot of pressure at the time (and still am), and (4) I just couldn't get into the topic.  I very much like to read about Art instead of researching about it -- my knowledge of Egypt's history isn't comprehensive enough!!!  And I just keep thinking about how my professor is going to react to it --  I just imagine her shaking her head, and calling me up to express a great sense of disappointment.  So until Friday (oh, dear lord), I will be having minor heart attacks and feeling the scaredy-cat chemicals shoot through my veins and arteries.  It is not a good feeling.  Oh no...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything is so strange this semester -- I never usually get so panicked about school work. But lately, I have just had a heightened sense of anxiety about everything, quizzes, tests, papers, experiments, etc.. I have too much to do but I can't concentrate.  I have to turn in quality work, but all I turn in is poop.  And I'm oh-so-tired.  What to do...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3014424806561378478-6794194634484363221?l=composition8.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/feeds/6794194634484363221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3014424806561378478&amp;postID=6794194634484363221' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/6794194634484363221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/6794194634484363221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/2008/12/still-stressed.html' title='Still Stressed!!'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05704204213066914259</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/SVGlNCxsKHI/AAAAAAAAAIE/jo_41JVAQts/S220/Photo+102.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014424806561378478.post-2097907395363962374</id><published>2008-11-24T16:40:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T17:01:37.343-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Home + Stressed.</title><content type='html'>Blech -- I have this overwhelming feeling of failure, and it don't feel too good....  blech.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'm back at home -- yay!  But I need to get a lot done (boo), or else I'm pretty much screwed for the rest of the semester.  So 4 papers to get out of the way, 3 finals to study for, several interviews to prepare for, experiments to finish, business to take care of.  JEEZ, and I can't seem to end a clause without a preposition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, one thing I've been really excited about is my dad's Mac. And it's been pretty distracting/awesome.  It has a built in camera, so now I can video-chat with people at the moment.  Yesterday I spoke with Bethany and Danny -- I haven't seen either of them in about a billion years (WHOA!).  So that was very nice and made me very happy.  Another nice thing about Macs is that they have dictionaries as a little application.  So instead of flipping through to godforsaken dictionary that has print that's tinier than a germ, I installed the latin dictionary to help me translate the "Carmen Saeculare."  And while I was doing that, I discovered that there was a Japanese-English dictionary too.  So I typed in some words that I knew in Japanese, like 'mother' and 'happy' just to see if it really works.  And then I tried 'delicious' because that's one I'm very familiar with (my mom cooks scrumptious food!).  And the third entry was...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"3 美しい, 優美な&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;delicious breasts｜美しい乳房."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is that even suppose to mean?  My mom, who was sitting beside me, said that Japanese people really like boobies.  Oh, well, ok....  I guess it's common enough in the Japanese culture to put it into the dictionary, much like how we put examples in our dictionary entires, such as "delicious home-baked brown bread" or even "a delicious irony."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, that's pretty gross.  And I will spare you by not elaborating its &lt;span&gt;egregiousness&lt;/span&gt; with a picture.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3014424806561378478-2097907395363962374?l=composition8.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/feeds/2097907395363962374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3014424806561378478&amp;postID=2097907395363962374' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/2097907395363962374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/2097907395363962374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/2008/11/home-stressed.html' title='Home + Stressed.'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05704204213066914259</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/SVGlNCxsKHI/AAAAAAAAAIE/jo_41JVAQts/S220/Photo+102.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014424806561378478.post-7749285084010897774</id><published>2008-11-18T17:12:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T17:02:04.609-06:00</updated><title type='text'>SWIPER, no swiping!</title><content type='html'>You thought this was dead....  actually I'm pretty much dead.  I'm so tired of work, but it's almost done.  Anyway, everything is going, or that's the least I can say about things so far. I have good news and bad news.  Bad news first (like always).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Super-Ultra-Terribly-Bad News: No SXSW for me.  Therefore, no unchaperoned weekend in Austin.  I hate the Media Board here, they don't realize how much work Sam, me and the rest of the E-staff put into the station.  I literally spend at least 10-13 hours here.  So, super bummed out, but I'm trying to get over it.  Their excuse is that we're seniors, so we won't be coming back next year to "apply what we learned."  Ha, yeah right, everyone knows that SXSW is a dirty, drunken blur filled with awesome music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good News:  This dreadful year is almost over... and I rediscovered Hip Hop. So good.  I think I'm totally over my chanson phase, after a dreadful show (my CDs would not stop skipping).  Top Hip Hop albums at the current moment?  Oh well, that's difficult, but if I had to say:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;3 Feet High and Rising by De La Soul&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the exception of "De La Orgy," which always sort of freaks me out, this album is such a classic for me.  I've been listening to it as my 'default' album -- you know, when you're walking around with your iPod and you're like, I should listen to something...  Yeah, that one has mine for the past several weeks.  It's old-school and has a very innocent charm.  I tend to like non-aggressive rap -- one that's not in-your-face as much, but is more subtle about its music.  And it flows superbly!  It's ill!  Stand out tracks: "Tread Water," "Eye Know," "Me, Myself, and I," "Plug Tunin'" (original 12" version)," and "Buddy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Paul's Boutique by the Beastie Boys&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Duh!  I've been in love with these m-effers for such a long time.  I have fond memories of dancing and singing along to "Brass Monkey" -- so much so, that I went out and bought, "Licensed to Ill" (I'm not a big CD person). But soon I realized that this was kind of a "just listening but not really taking in sort of seriously" album.  It didn't have much substance in terms of themes and coherence, except that they enjoyed partying.  Not to say the album was bad, but perhaps a bit immature for me.  But their next album, Paul's Boutique, showed a more savvy side of the Beastie Boys -- they could still talk about partying, girls, or whatever, but they were really maturing musically.  What I really love about this album is that it samples different artists very well.  The best one is in "The Sound of Science" when they take snippets of the Beatles' Sgt. Pepper.  The art of sampling is really one that is underappreciated and understated, I think.  I mean artists listen to hours of music and pick out parts that they feel fit in best with their own music.  Anyway, the sample fits in perfectly and adds so much more meaning to the track.  It's really great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; The Low End Theory by A Tribe Called Quest&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course, this is a classic hip-hop album from the early 90s.  The first time I listened to the album was when I was on the bus on my way to visit Danny.  Needless to say, even at 10 in the morning, it was a really entertaining album.  I think I listened to it a total of 3 times on the way up there.  It creates a really intelligent and unique vintage atmosphere, which you really get immersed into.  They pay homage to Jazz with upright basses and interspersed piano bits, but at the same time they don't forget the up and coming genre of hip hop.  It is self-aware but not boastful, and Tribe really takes their time in the album to establish themselves.  It is a brilliant album, and now that I think about it -- it should probably at the top.  My bad.  Anyway, it is definitely an album worth purchasing -- it gets better with each listen.  Stand outs: "Excursions," "Verses from the Abstract," "Butter," "Rap Promoter," "Jazz (We've Got it)"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in terms of current music: Listen to the Miniature Tigers (catchy pop-hoooks!), Deerhunter (best album yet!), Shugo Tokumaru, and the new Antony and the Johnsons' EP (Whoa!).  I'll post an update on new music later... there is a lot of good stuff out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Music is everywhere, and it's wonderful -- if you're looking in the right places.... that is to say, not up Coldplay's butt.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3014424806561378478-7749285084010897774?l=composition8.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/feeds/7749285084010897774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3014424806561378478&amp;postID=7749285084010897774' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/7749285084010897774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/7749285084010897774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/2008/11/swiper-no-swiping.html' title='SWIPER, no swiping!'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05704204213066914259</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/SVGlNCxsKHI/AAAAAAAAAIE/jo_41JVAQts/S220/Photo+102.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014424806561378478.post-2347810728968942504</id><published>2008-10-25T13:27:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-25T13:44:19.627-05:00</updated><title type='text'>ugh... college.</title><content type='html'>I'm really sorry my entries have been so negative lately.  Hopefully something exciting will happen and I can brag about how happy I am (ha, yeah right...).  Anyway, so it's Homecoming Weekend, and of course, I don't even hesitate not to participate -- I'm just not into that kind of excitement.  And of course, it's a time of year where I can feel scornful and angry at my school for a good reasons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the tradition here is that everybody has to get dressed up (nice dresses/high heels and khakis/polos or suits if you are that pretentious) and get really drunk for the Football game.  So there are "classy" looking ladies walking around campus with fists tightly clenching paper bags, beer bottles, and 12-packs of Red Bull (because the night was suppose to be the pre-pre-gaming).  It's just a bit infuriating to see so many beer cans, half-smoked cigarettes, and condoms on the ground and the abuse that a body has to go through, which is all for a night of mistakes.  And there are always girls wearing ridiculous aviator sunglasses inside at 11 in the morning, screaming at the top of their lungs with a brutish, hoarse cry of "where is the CREAM CHEESE?!"  Of course, they are all binging on carbohydrates and sweets before throwing all of it up 3 hours later. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah. college life is so enchanting... with pools of vomit and Republicans.  Maybe I just hate living in the South...  I hope I get to live in Chicago, Washington, or New York for the next four years.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3014424806561378478-2347810728968942504?l=composition8.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/feeds/2347810728968942504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3014424806561378478&amp;postID=2347810728968942504' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/2347810728968942504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/2347810728968942504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/2008/10/ugh-college.html' title='ugh... college.'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05704204213066914259</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/SVGlNCxsKHI/AAAAAAAAAIE/jo_41JVAQts/S220/Photo+102.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014424806561378478.post-3448046448594507141</id><published>2008-10-12T14:49:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T15:08:21.040-05:00</updated><title type='text'>how it's going...</title><content type='html'>Nearly all my hope is lost at this point. Like one of the grad student from my lab said it feels like the end of the world. The economy is bad, and people are just having the worst luck. It hasn't been this bad ever for me, not even in high school, which I don't even want to think about it. And I'm not just talking about frustrations with school, my future, stress from the radio station, etc... It's just everything at once. I'm sure if they happened maybe a couple months apart or if I had maybe a week or two of 'vacation' to catch up and breathe a little, I would recover.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I remember my sixth grade English teacher had written in the corner of her blackboard, "Life is not fair." Yes, but those words never made sense to me. If a good person acts good and is kind, then why should he have to suffer or endure so much? (And I don't consider myself a good person, but I still feel like I'm not that terrible, or at least I try not to be.) I have seen liars, cheaters, and thieves receive accolade and praise without much work, but those hardworking, sincere few never get the recognition they deserve.  I know... it makes the a 'stronger' person in the end, but how satisfying is that when you feel that others that don't deserve it, get it? How are you suppose to act to get what you want out of life?  Are you suppose to be selfish, grabbing everything you can and boastful, showing off all your talents and awards? I have tried to live somewhat within the limits of humility. My personality is a bit passive, so I don't like to brag or flaunt the things I own.  I'm a nurturer and care much more about other people than I do for myself.  I just don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I went to church. Honestly, my 'relationship' with God has been somewhat fractured.  It deviated from extreme devotion, which expected to get everything I asked for in prayer, to nonchalance -- we stopped going to church after we moved to Texas and I just gave up.  But I still asked to go because I needed some kind of inner peace, a comfort that this is just a rough time for the people I love.  But the Sunday came and went, although I wasn't expecting an instant change, I was a little surprised I felt more anxious, scared and pessimistic about everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I am, just trying to survive day to day, cherishing the moment when I lay down to sleep, though even that joy has been slowly taken from me by restlessness about work and small bouts of insomnia.  It's hard to go on, trying to hope that each passing day will be better, when deep down you know it won't be -- it'll actually be worse than yesterday.  I didn't want to believe it at first, but there it was -- bleak Mondays followed by dreary Tuesdays, all the way to the life-sucking, joyless Fridays.  I guess that's how it is -- I'll just learn to deal with it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3014424806561378478-3448046448594507141?l=composition8.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/feeds/3448046448594507141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3014424806561378478&amp;postID=3448046448594507141' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/3448046448594507141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/3448046448594507141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/2008/10/how-its-going.html' title='how it&apos;s going...'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05704204213066914259</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/SVGlNCxsKHI/AAAAAAAAAIE/jo_41JVAQts/S220/Photo+102.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014424806561378478.post-4907673052369545317</id><published>2008-09-29T02:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T02:33:52.718-05:00</updated><title type='text'>quick update!!  erg!</title><content type='html'>despite unflattering, itchy rashes &amp;amp; missing out on kentucky with sam and co., i still had a fantastic weekend with asmitha.  we watched the debate/the office/pushing daises/grey's anatomy (which we just laughed at) and made smores by breaking fire regulations (haha, in your face, university safety rules!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but i haven't had enough sleep in the past month, so i'm kind of feeling like a zombie, a very fat zombie (i eat when i can't sleep).  i have periods when i feel awake and then very sleepy and then awake again and then sleepy.  but then it gets to a point where i don't care if i sleep or not.  and then i have dreams that are hard to distinguish from reality, like i'll dream that a paper, or deadline has passed and wake up kind of dizzy and confused and then an hour later realize it was just a dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ugh, worse feeling ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, of course this semester is not shaping up to be anything i had hoped at the beginning, but i think i'm learning to adjust, at least reevaluating my goals and future.  i'm just hoping for the best at this point... though i'm not even sure what the 'best' situation is anymore.  i just hope it's not too far from my family and sam.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3014424806561378478-4907673052369545317?l=composition8.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/feeds/4907673052369545317/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3014424806561378478&amp;postID=4907673052369545317' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/4907673052369545317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/4907673052369545317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/2008/09/quick-update-erg.html' title='quick update!!  erg!'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05704204213066914259</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/SVGlNCxsKHI/AAAAAAAAAIE/jo_41JVAQts/S220/Photo+102.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014424806561378478.post-3887841320503822450</id><published>2008-09-22T15:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-22T16:19:55.035-05:00</updated><title type='text'>what i have come to terms with...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;(Part 4: My vocal cords)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, my voice is probably the most distinct part of me, or at least the part that has gotten the most comments from people.  I think I became really conscious of it sometime during high school, when people would ask me if I was faking my voice.  I would reply, 'No...  Should I be?'  It didn't really bother me up until the Mu Alpha Theta Tournament my school was holding.  Nobody wanted to be the announcer, so like a good officer, I volunteered, which was most unfortunate.  Many people during that tournament complained about how high-pitched my voice sounded over the PA system.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I don't know what really got me into working at the station.  It was probably because of all the music and plus Sam was having lots of fun there.  It is a little strange that I chose to pursue something that would leave me naked with just my voice.  Anyway, it has been a pretty sweet experience.  I've been exposed to a ton of music and my sense of taste has definitely been tuned.  And about the people who call in during my show, the 'response' to my voice has been fairly positive.  There was only one person who called in to tell me that I sucked.  But then I just told him that I would talk less, and then took a 5 minute talk break.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what made me want to write this entry, you ask?  Well...  I got an aggravated voice mail from a lady named Eva, an angry Nashville resident, who while listening to my show had enough energy and passion to go to our website, get the telephone number and pick up the phone and call to tell me that my voice was 'babyish' and hope that I would be kicked off the air.  When I first heard the message, I was livid.  I was shaking, and I couldn't even write any more or do any work.  And those of you who know me, I don't really express my angry very well -- verbally or emotionally.  So I impulsively gave her a call (I should have hung up) and had a short chat with her.  It went kind of like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  Hello, is Eva there?&lt;br /&gt;Her: Yes, this is she.&lt;br /&gt;M: Did you call WRVU on Thursday night to insult the DJ?&lt;br /&gt;H: Um...  Yes, I think so.&lt;br /&gt;M: Well, I'm the music director here and you just insulted me.  Do you know that we do this on a volunteer-basis?  And obviously we are all here for the music, and we are not on the air to be talking about ourselves.  And obviously, I can't really help speaking the way I speak. &lt;br /&gt;H: Well you should get a voice coach.&lt;br /&gt;M: Well I don't intend on singing or going into Radio.&lt;br /&gt;H: Your voice is just irritating and you drop your constants.&lt;br /&gt;M: Just to be sure, don't ever call one of our other DJs and think that you can insult them like that. &lt;br /&gt;H: No, it's just you.&lt;br /&gt;M: Your comment has been taken. Thanks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I shouldn't have called back, but I really couldn't help it...  And I probably should have made up a story about how I lost my voice when somebody tried to choke me to death and after 20 years of rehabilitation I was finally able to talk again.  Yeah right.... Then oddly enough we talked about Anger Management in Health Psychology and practiced "relaxation techniques" (oh brother...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it's really strange because it's hard to judge my own voice and hear what others hear when they listen.  I hope that if I have offended you in some way with the pitch, tone or the way I speak, I apologize, but I really can't help it.  But if I had a chance to change it, I don't think I would.  It's something unique I have, and I guess I'll just have to deal with people, who have problems with it.  And remember that it's just a petty thing that they are trying to do -- what are the point of insults to strangers anyway?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wonder if my voice has had an effect on who I'm friends with and what I do.  I mean obviously, if it hurts to listen to me, you'd obviously not want to be my friend.  Anyway, that little voice mail made me really feel terrible, but I think after writing about it, I see how stupid the whole event really was.  I'll just not call back the next time that happens and like Daniel said, try to not let it get under my skin, though that might be tough -- I'm a pretty sensitive person when it comes to things like this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3014424806561378478-3887841320503822450?l=composition8.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/feeds/3887841320503822450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3014424806561378478&amp;postID=3887841320503822450' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/3887841320503822450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/3887841320503822450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/2008/09/what-i-have-come-to-terms-with.html' title='what i have come to terms with...'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05704204213066914259</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/SVGlNCxsKHI/AAAAAAAAAIE/jo_41JVAQts/S220/Photo+102.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014424806561378478.post-7440975525704867633</id><published>2008-09-20T14:35:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-20T14:51:41.133-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Record Excitement!</title><content type='html'>Let this weekend be to working hard and gettin' stuff done!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though I haven't been to a very good start... I just spent $35 on records this morning (Shoot!).  Through they are fantastic records.  I got the Supremes, which is a guilty pleasure of mine, as well as the Marvelettes.  I have such a strange fascination with girl groups from the late 50s to early 60s...  They are so good, but they all talk about the same things in their songs, which is sex/boyfriends.  I guess it's amusing how many different innuendos they use to say, 'hey, we're doing it tonight!'  Oh, I just wonder how it was like being a girl during those days...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I got some down home country/folk stuff.  Two records from Smithsonian Folkways, which is a fantastic record label/institution.  They really know their stuff, so it's something I can trust -- I know that whatever record I end up getting, it'll be interesting/good.  I already have compilation by them, and I bought an Elizabeth Cotten record for my sister.  Also, a best of Hank Williams, who is my most favorite country singer, well ok, that's not completely true...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fell in love with a song from the McDonald's commercial over the summer... cheesy, I know.  So I picked up the "Best of Os Mutantes," which I am listening to right now.  They are from Brazil, but surprisingly, they dabble in a variety of genres from Bossa Nova to Psychedelic Rock and languages.  It's very interesting, and they do it in a tasteful way, so I'm excited!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/q78TE4qER-Q&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/q78TE4qER-Q&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So off to working now.  Until I can write again!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3014424806561378478-7440975525704867633?l=composition8.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/feeds/7440975525704867633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3014424806561378478&amp;postID=7440975525704867633' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/7440975525704867633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/7440975525704867633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/2008/09/record-excitement.html' title='Record Excitement!'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05704204213066914259</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/SVGlNCxsKHI/AAAAAAAAAIE/jo_41JVAQts/S220/Photo+102.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014424806561378478.post-8794528359220286809</id><published>2008-09-14T20:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T20:27:24.617-05:00</updated><title type='text'>my weekend....</title><content type='html'>Yes, so I just wanted to say a few things before I begin to study once again (ARG):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  I am glad that my parents and my sister are safe after Ike.  My sister just put up pictures online, and it looks pretty devastating on campus.  There were trees everywhere, non-functioning bathrooms, boarded up windows. What a way to start off the school year...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  Thank you for this weekend... very, very much.  We went to the state fair, and it was so much fun, though we didn't get a chance to watch the racing pigs or 'ride the pigs' -- we missed it by like 30 seconds.  At first, it was a lackluster beginning (we found out that a ferris wheel ride costs $5), but we found stuff that was relatively cheap.  We saw a giant pumpkin, a giant rabbit, a giant inflatable ship, and a giant hot beef sundae + funnel cake. All of it was amazing.  There were also lots of things to pet there, like camels, llamas, alpacas, little pigs, goats...  Though it was a little bit stinky.  We went to Charlie's place later on and played cards, which I just suck at in general, but it was a lot of fun.  We spoke to Bethany for about an hour and that was nice.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/SM246bI_Y5I/AAAAAAAAAHk/q8a228fnnZg/s1600-h/P9130110.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/SM246bI_Y5I/AAAAAAAAAHk/q8a228fnnZg/s320/P9130110.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246052454813885330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/SM242Lng93I/AAAAAAAAAHc/C0bYv7DpH3o/s1600-h/P9130111.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/SM242Lng93I/AAAAAAAAAHc/C0bYv7DpH3o/s320/P9130111.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246052381927470962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;3.  I hate how self-congratulatory my generation is.  And the only reason I say this is because this is what I heard today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: "Oh my goodness, that's such a great way of cutting a tomato"&lt;br /&gt;B: "Oh, yeah... that's brilliant!"&lt;br /&gt;C: "Definitely, I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;am&lt;/span&gt; brilliant!"&lt;br /&gt;A: "Just brilliant."&lt;br /&gt;B: "Ditto...brilliant."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean it's ok to give yourself a pat on the back, but when you just keep reinforcing a very slight and trivial achievement, your ego may explode.  Personally, I'm always really hesitant to take compliments from others and much, much less from myself, though this end of the spectrum isn't good either.  But at least my ego will fit in my head!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3014424806561378478-8794528359220286809?l=composition8.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/feeds/8794528359220286809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3014424806561378478&amp;postID=8794528359220286809' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/8794528359220286809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/8794528359220286809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-weekend.html' title='my weekend....'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05704204213066914259</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/SVGlNCxsKHI/AAAAAAAAAIE/jo_41JVAQts/S220/Photo+102.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/SM246bI_Y5I/AAAAAAAAAHk/q8a228fnnZg/s72-c/P9130110.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014424806561378478.post-110802979953883034</id><published>2008-09-03T00:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T00:46:07.457-05:00</updated><title type='text'>ANXIETY!</title><content type='html'>Oh goodness gracious.  I feel like I'm going to die from exhaustion/stress.  The school year has already gotten off on a most terrible start.  Well first of, who decided that Monday was a good day to start of a school year?  Then coming back to the station was too crazy -- I worked there most of today.  Lab is crazy too -- my microbial frustrations will never end!  Then my big dance party was a terrible endeavor. And also an everyday reminder that I don't have any more of my music left.  It seems just like an endless stream of bad luck to me, I mean if I start off wrong, the rest of the year goes wrong.  And just think of the things that are ahead: applications, tests, school work... oh no...  I don't think I could take all of that rejection/failure at once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, my classes are fun, I enjoy 2 out of 3.   I especially like my Egyptian Art Class and Horace.  Today we read some fragments of Archilochos, an early Greek poet and this is what he had to say:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;From "Fragments of Archilochos" trans. by Guy Davenport, 1995&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sergeant to Enyalios,&lt;br /&gt;The great god War,&lt;br /&gt;I practice double labor.&lt;br /&gt;With poetry, that lover's gift,&lt;br /&gt;I serve the lady Muses"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or in other words, he's a lover and a fighter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, Archilochos gets much more interesting and we get to see what he &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;really &lt;/span&gt;wanted to say...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Begotten by&lt;br /&gt;His father's&lt;br /&gt;Roaring farts."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Even the Greeks farted!  Oh Plato, you stinker!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as well as... (and I warn you this may be a bit R/PG-13)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He comes, in bed,&lt;br /&gt;As copiously as&lt;br /&gt;A Prienian ass&lt;br /&gt;And is equipped&lt;br /&gt;Like a stallion"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;RAUNCHY!  That's why I love the Greeks.  Just kidding.  Anyway, as the story goes, Archilochos wrote in iambic, which is a meter usually reserved for insults and criticisms.  It was said that Archilochos was so good at doing this that he drove both his girlfriend and her father to suicide, but of course that was according to Hellenistic biographers, who lived no where near the time in which Archilochos existed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I guess things aren't all that bad.  I don't know.  I'm just nervous about my show.  I just haven't done it in a long time that I'm scared I'm going to mess it up.... BADLY.  Eh, it's the day after tomorrow, I still have tomorrow to work on my playlist.  I'm thinking french chansons, but that would mean playing from cassette tapes, which are a pain the butt.  We'll see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope everyone had a nice labo(u)r day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3014424806561378478-110802979953883034?l=composition8.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/feeds/110802979953883034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3014424806561378478&amp;postID=110802979953883034' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/110802979953883034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/110802979953883034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/2008/09/anxiety.html' title='ANXIETY!'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05704204213066914259</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/SVGlNCxsKHI/AAAAAAAAAIE/jo_41JVAQts/S220/Photo+102.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014424806561378478.post-3671414675385773080</id><published>2008-08-26T08:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T08:30:27.989-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Things have gotten so busy all of a sudden...</title><content type='html'>Ok, so last week was hectic, and this week will be even more hectic!  Oh no....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, on Thursday, we took a tedious drive up to Nashville and that was kind of disastrous in terms of I didn't drive very well -- I sort of fell asleep, (but I'll never admit that to my parents! -- though they know...), and swerved. One time on the road we went to get gas, but we were at a stop sign.  My mom decided that the time was right to go ahead into the ongoing traffic because there were no cars (technically).  But then all of a sudden a really fast car zoomed down the road. We blocked it and slowed it down.  Then we drove into the gas station and she followed us in, and then subsequently yelled at us for making her slow down -- I think her exact words were, 'THERE'S A STOP SIGN FOR A REASON!'  But we didn't do anything wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday was shopping/moving in day.  So that's basically what we did.  My room was surprisingly small the first time I saw it.  The shock nearly killed me!  But then we made it cozy and it looks strangely spacious.  And everything fits in fine -- my record player, stereo, tv, vcr, and Super Nintendo.  It's snazzy -- that's a weird word, if it is even a word!  I saw Daniel, Charlie and Asmitha again so that made me very happy but sad at the same time.  Because everybody will be so busy and Daniel is leaving.... and also I forgot to bring my tattoos to share with everybody...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday came around, and my whole family moped around in the hotel room, taking intermittent naps while watching Rhythmic Gymnastics (so boring....).  Sam came near the end of the day and I met his aunt and cousin.  Then we sent them off, and I showed him around my room.  He was impressed.  Ha ha - I win!!  And we went to dinner with my parents.  Then my parents and I headed off to the grocery store to buy milk and other essential foods, though I have too much food in my fridge, which is always a problem when my parents drive me up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday was not really eventful.  Well I guess Sam and I got hamburgers, so that made him very happy.  Then we had a radio station meeting sometime, which made me nervous because talking in front of big crowds is not my thing.  I can talk to one person at a time or even three or four, but over that, I can't do it.  We had dinner with Charlie and Daniel, which was nice.  And at the restaurant they gave me a heaping bowl of rice, which I could not really finish. Then Charlie showed us around his place, which was really nice, and he had a very large living room, which Sam rolled around on for 2 hours.   We all watched the closing ceremonies.  All I can do is shake my head.  I don't even know what to think about London's performance.  I mean it's difficult to compete with a Totalitarian regime (China is definitely not what it says it is), but you have to be more creative than dancing with umbrellas and getting Jimmy Page to show up.  And Mr. Page's performance was quite funny -- he reminded me of a classmate in Kindergarten who tried to kiss all the girls but had really poor aim because he would just run around with his eyes closed and lips pursed.  He was crazy.  I really wonder what happened to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Monday was class time, which was very much less than enthused for me.  And a meeting thrown in there...  And something else happened, I'm not really sure...  It is kind of dumb to start off school on a Monday, at least do it on a Wednesday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that about sums up my past activities for the last few days...  I hope this week ends soon because there are too many things going on.  Arg.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3014424806561378478-3671414675385773080?l=composition8.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/feeds/3671414675385773080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3014424806561378478&amp;postID=3671414675385773080' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/3671414675385773080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/3671414675385773080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/2008/08/things-have-gotten-so-busy-all-of.html' title='Things have gotten so busy all of a sudden...'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05704204213066914259</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/SVGlNCxsKHI/AAAAAAAAAIE/jo_41JVAQts/S220/Photo+102.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014424806561378478.post-5192116809460316548</id><published>2008-08-19T19:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T20:25:05.772-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Awesome...</title><content type='html'>Temporary tattoos are awesome!  I had almost an excessive amount of fun today with Danny and Steph....  So much fun.   If only we hung out during the summer.  I apologize about that.   And tomorrow I get to see Kinal (and maybe my sister, I hope so)!   Hooray!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/SKtySO9KJuI/AAAAAAAAAFo/OfRBVmdjKo4/s1600-h/Photo+57.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/SKtySO9KJuI/AAAAAAAAAFo/OfRBVmdjKo4/s320/Photo+57.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236404649326159586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I'm almost finished packing.   Well I'm finished packing -- we just have to play tetris with all my boxes, stuffing all my junk into the back of the van.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the Olympics are awesome but not awesome at the same time.  Shame on you, China!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes, and Good Luck to Sam!  He's awesome, too.  And my sister is awesome too.  That's five awesomes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll write something more meaningful soon...  I'm too excited to think!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3014424806561378478-5192116809460316548?l=composition8.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/feeds/5192116809460316548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3014424806561378478&amp;postID=5192116809460316548' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/5192116809460316548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/5192116809460316548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/2008/08/awesome.html' title='Awesome...'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05704204213066914259</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/SVGlNCxsKHI/AAAAAAAAAIE/jo_41JVAQts/S220/Photo+102.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/SKtySO9KJuI/AAAAAAAAAFo/OfRBVmdjKo4/s72-c/Photo+57.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014424806561378478.post-3894733108406839561</id><published>2008-08-19T00:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T00:47:36.785-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh no....</title><content type='html'>Whoops, my bad.  I haven't written a post in a while.  Anyway, I just had a pretty bad weekend.  My sister moved out from home and into Rice.  It was really depressing.  I can't believe she's already in college... and with BOYS!  I'm so worried because I forgot to buy her mace/a switchblade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the first half of Saturday was stressful -- we circled around Rice at least 3 times trying to find the proper parking lot.  Move-in only took 5 minutes.  We met my sister's roommate, and had a lot of trouble lowering the beds.... Why is that so complex?  Then there was a video camera at some point, and I was sweaty and self-conscious, which is a terrible combination.  There was some lunch for students and families, and we sat next to two families -- our seats were rearranged by one of the moms at the table and awkward conversation ensued (VERY AWKWARD, as in we played a game of 'let-me-think-of-every-person-who-might-of-went-to-high school/middle school/college-with-you-and-you-tell-me-if-you-know-that-person-because-you-just-have-to-know-her!').  Let me tell you, I lost that game pretty badly.  The lady was very disappointed that I revealed right away that I'm not the social butterfly I appear to be -- yeah, my baggy t-shirt, blank stares, and ripped up shoes tell you that instantly.  So after that, there was some weird play by the orientation leaders.  And we had to say our goodbyes, technically.  But my sneaky parents and I stayed upstairs in my sister's room and set things up.  She finally came up a couple hours later and then we really said our goodbyes....  And my dad kept worrying about her as we drove the twenty minutes back home.  And that's (not really) the end of bad event number 1.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Event number 2 was not as bad, but still pretty bad.  I had my laptop in repair because it sucks, and I have a warranty until 2010.  And when I picked it up, ALL my music was gone.  I did not even think to back up all my music files.  When the employee told me that windows had been reinstalled, I felt faint and a little dizzy.  Then I cried a little in the parking lot.  After more than 5 years of collecting all that music.  I HAVE NOTHING TO LISTEN TO NOW!  But it's ok...  (NOT REALLY)!  And then I realized I got two very easy questions wrong on the MCAT -- birds are not related to bats....!!!!  I'm so dumb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I can't understand why I really want to type in words a different way than they are actually spelled.  For instance, I have to change phresh into fresh, tyme into time, etc...  Why is that!? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I miss all my friends...  I wish I could see them all again next semester, but they aren't going to be there...!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow, ok, so that concludes a very dramatic/immature post.  I'll try to refrain from expressing my childish emotions next time....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3014424806561378478-3894733108406839561?l=composition8.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/feeds/3894733108406839561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3014424806561378478&amp;postID=3894733108406839561' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/3894733108406839561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/3894733108406839561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/2008/08/oh-no.html' title='Oh no....'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05704204213066914259</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/SVGlNCxsKHI/AAAAAAAAAIE/jo_41JVAQts/S220/Photo+102.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014424806561378478.post-2937329854338852315</id><published>2008-08-15T22:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T22:21:24.728-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The start of my summer!</title><content type='html'>Dear You-Know-Who,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I beat you!  Kind of... We'll see in a month.  Until then, I'll just try not to cry every night... FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE.  But onto better things....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sincerely,&lt;br /&gt;Becky&lt;br /&gt;___________________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I only have 5 days to cram my whole summer, which means hanging out with Kinal &amp;amp; Danny, Steph, Kavita, and anybody else who wants to hang out w/a loser like me like nobody's business as well as help my sister move in, pack up for Nashville, go shopping for random necessities, buy textbooks, get radio station stuff ready, plan a party for the freshmen, finish the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Fountainhead&lt;/span&gt;, and applications.  oh boy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Call me if you're free!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3014424806561378478-2937329854338852315?l=composition8.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/feeds/2937329854338852315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3014424806561378478&amp;postID=2937329854338852315' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/2937329854338852315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/2937329854338852315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/2008/08/dear-you-know-who-i-beat-you-kind-of.html' title='The start of my summer!'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05704204213066914259</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/SVGlNCxsKHI/AAAAAAAAAIE/jo_41JVAQts/S220/Photo+102.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014424806561378478.post-1402412310115635425</id><published>2008-08-14T11:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-14T12:04:47.245-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Weird!</title><content type='html'>Wow, I just woke up from a weird dream.  Yes, I know it's only 11:45.  How in the world did I take an hour nap after only being awake for only 2 hours?  I don't know -- I guess this summer has been a little exhausting, and I'm halfway through the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Fountainhead&lt;/span&gt;, which is a little hefty at times.  Anyway....  back to the main point of this entry....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dreamt I was a sculptor, and my goal in life was to make a minuscule sculpture of a squid.  So that is all I did....  At the point of the dream, I guess I had been working on it for most of my life -- my hands were stained with clay, and it was even under my fingernails, which I usually keep short.  And the sculptures I made were not very successful -- there were a lot of little squids on the floor with all their tentacles laying around with half-made or squished heads.  So I went to an old man and asked him why the goal of my life, making a tiny clay squid, was not working.  And he gave me a something that looked like a play-doh machine, like one of the ones you squish out different shapes like stars.  So I went back to my apartment, which was really gross -- it was just one room with everything on the ground.  It was just an ugly, lifeless gray.  Anyway, I put the machine on the table and worked on my current squid.  After I finished for the day, I put it on top of a pot of soil because there was no where else to put it.  I went to sleep, and the next morning it had grown with some of the tentacles firmly planted into the soil.  Then the machine, which had grown squid overnight on top of it (whaaa..?), started making these weird roses of different colors.  I picked up a rose and threw it down into a bucket, I guess I was looking for the right color.  And then I woke up...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was weird.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3014424806561378478-1402412310115635425?l=composition8.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/feeds/1402412310115635425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3014424806561378478&amp;postID=1402412310115635425' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/1402412310115635425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/1402412310115635425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/2008/08/weird.html' title='Weird!'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05704204213066914259</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/SVGlNCxsKHI/AAAAAAAAAIE/jo_41JVAQts/S220/Photo+102.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014424806561378478.post-5797607247695771892</id><published>2008-08-12T18:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-14T08:24:47.284-05:00</updated><title type='text'>what I have come to terms with...</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;(Part 3: Beatles Covers)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, so that's kind of a lie. Most of them bother me a lot -- particularly at the moment, the Target commercial with that awful pun, 'Hello, Good buy.' Before it was that Across the Universe TV Ad and that hotel commercial with 'With a Little Help from My Friends'. Maybe it's just the Beatles songs for commercial use.  I don't know.  Still I'm sure several songs have suffered through rounds of American Idol. I don't even want to think about that....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i46.photobucket.com/albums/f131/4jsgroup/Beatles%20Blog/redbraces.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://i46.photobucket.com/albums/f131/4jsgroup/Beatles%20Blog/redbraces.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just don't do it, or at least just do it for yourself! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3014424806561378478-5797607247695771892?l=composition8.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/feeds/5797607247695771892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3014424806561378478&amp;postID=5797607247695771892' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/5797607247695771892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/5797607247695771892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/2008/08/what-i-have-come-to-terms-with_12.html' title='what I have come to terms with...'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05704204213066914259</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/SVGlNCxsKHI/AAAAAAAAAIE/jo_41JVAQts/S220/Photo+102.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i46.photobucket.com/albums/f131/4jsgroup/Beatles%20Blog/th_redbraces.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014424806561378478.post-4633505171856721409</id><published>2008-08-11T22:54:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T23:36:29.843-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Plight of the Yellowjacket</title><content type='html'>Oh Lord, how I despise insects, whether they attack from the air, with stealth, or if their intentions are not even to harm a human being.  They still scare me -- all of them, except for lady bugs because their name suggests something quite gentle, and they are usually (if they decide not to excrete on you).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My territory had already been established -- legs curled comfortably on the swivel chair, eyes focused on the glowing screen, and mouth slightly agape.  How dare it!  The buzzing ripped through the air particles and crawled into the canals of my ears. Neurons shot through my brain. The chemical message tingled down my spine and straightened my vertebrae from its usual slouch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="javascript:void(0)" tabindex="10" onclick="return false;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I panicked -- it's an uncontrolled sense of fear.  And during those times, plausible thoughts of what would happen aren't the first images that shoot through my imagination.  All I saw were attacks from a giant wasp's behind -- one that matched the booming buzz I had heard with venom shooting out like some obscene Dali painting.  I ran away!  and closed the office door!  The possible occurrence of such violence was too much for my sensitive nerves and knowing that it could not hunt me down in the other rooms of the house was a sort of relief.  I could finally move on with the rest of my lazy day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I left it alone for several hours before I had any courage to look through the glass doors, which I had encased it in.  I did not see anything or hear anything.  Strange, I thought, perhaps it did escape, and I've been going on, ignorantly assuming that I had outsmarted the wasp.  So with my muscles tense, I entered the room to double check.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there it laid -- its body darkened by sudden stillness.  What killed it, I don't know.  Maybe its erratic flight around the room was its death rattle.  But surely it was never to be a vibrant yellow again -- death had taken even its color.  I felt guilty, though it was odd that I have never felt this sort of remorse when I would hunt down a wayward fly.  Perhaps the wasp in my mind had a more nobler intent than the fly, and I had killed it and interrupted its duties to its own family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But fear is primal.  It is not something a conscious mind can sort out within those few moments of sensing an unwanted presence or situation.  I don't think I can say that if I encountered another wasp that I would not act the same way.  But maybe I'll think twice before swatting at a fly or stepping on a spider.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3014424806561378478-4633505171856721409?l=composition8.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/feeds/4633505171856721409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3014424806561378478&amp;postID=4633505171856721409' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/4633505171856721409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/4633505171856721409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/2008/08/plight-of-yellowjacket.html' title='The Plight of the Yellowjacket'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05704204213066914259</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/SVGlNCxsKHI/AAAAAAAAAIE/jo_41JVAQts/S220/Photo+102.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014424806561378478.post-3073306889178509719</id><published>2008-08-10T20:59:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-10T23:01:55.877-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Strange Weekend</title><content type='html'>Jeez, this weekend has been quite eventful. First John Edward's big confession, then the erupting war in Georgia, the death of Bernie Mac, the bus crash near Houston, the stabbing and death of an American tourist in Beijing, the death of Isaac Hayes, the bombing in Xinhua, etc... Is this normal? It's so strange that everything happens all at once. Does it ever seem like bad events are concentrated into one week? Maybe it's just me (probably).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So whenever I am sad (like during this weekend), I always like to peruse Francis Bacon's works. I don't know why -- it just makes me feel better. Maybe because it feels a bit cathartic for me -- his paintings just reminds me how tortured he was during his life. It comes off the canvas very raw and intense. I guess I like to know that I'm not alone in feeling so sad a lot of the time, but I have no reason to justify this sort of depression, unlike Bacon, who suffered most of his life -- with his health, sexuality, etc... This one is my favorite: Bacon's "Triptych - August 1972"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/thumb/2/2d/Triptych_-_August_1972.jpg/300px-Triptych_-_August_1972.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/thumb/2/2d/Triptych_-_August_1972.jpg/300px-Triptych_-_August_1972.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Anyway, the Olympics were pretty exciting today -- I watched weightlifting (wow, those women are very strong, but that event is kind of scary to watch because their eyes are so intense and their veins pop out of their necks), some swimming, basketball this morning, gymnastics (all the girls have such muscular thighs....), but I missed synchronized swimming (!!!) because I was at the gym -- SUCKS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH YES! I almost forgot! HAPPY BIRTHDAY to Asmitha and Bethany! They are two awesome ladies.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3014424806561378478-3073306889178509719?l=composition8.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/feeds/3073306889178509719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3014424806561378478&amp;postID=3073306889178509719' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/3073306889178509719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/3073306889178509719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/2008/08/strange-weekend.html' title='Strange Weekend'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05704204213066914259</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/SVGlNCxsKHI/AAAAAAAAAIE/jo_41JVAQts/S220/Photo+102.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014424806561378478.post-665017393117797004</id><published>2008-08-09T09:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T07:43:13.786-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer Music!</title><content type='html'>So my laptop is getting fixed right now, and it has been in repair for a while now.  It was really strange because it gets really hot, so I can't really use it on my lap anymore.  It hurts.  Anyway, I think I might write an entry about the Olympics later... (Yeah it was ridiculous.  I was dumb enough to watch it for 4 hours when I could have turned on the TV this morning and seen a 5 minute recap of it! What! Oh, and did anybody notice that the kid walking next to Yao Ming had an upside down flag of China?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This summer has had a lot of really cool albums out:&lt;br /&gt;1.  Girl Talk: No Pause -- Girl Talk came out with "Feed the Animals" in June? Yes I'm pretty sure it was in June.  Gregg Gillis did the same thing as Radiohead -- you can pay for the album on your own price and if you pay over $10 you get a physical copy in Sept.  Do you want &lt;a href="http://74.124.198.47/illegal-art.net/__girl__talk___feed__the__anima.ls___/"&gt;one&lt;/a&gt;? YES, YOU DO!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I've been pretty obsessed with it.  And it's really fun to pick out which songs he sampled.  For example, 'No Pause' has Missy Elliott 's 'Work It' (duh!), Eminem, Run D.M.C., Spank Rock, that song from the MacAir commercial (Yael Naim), Public Enemy, Jimi Hendrix, etc...  Girl Talk does have a talent in picking out the best parts of the songs and putting them together.  It may not be the most original way to make music, but you can't really say it isn't creative!  Greg Gillis pays a lot of attention to the small, almost unnoticeable details in pop songs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Liz Phair: Fuck and Run -- Liz Phair 'Exile in Guyville' 15th anniversary Reissue!  This is an old song from an old album when Liz Phair was fairly unknown and still considered indie/lo-fi, and before she did that god-awful "Why Can't I?" for that chick-flick movie (I don't remember, which one but I definitely do remember hearing that song and being incredibly shocked).  Anyway, I should give credit to Sam for this song.  He asked me to get it over a break a long long time ago, and it was pretty much my favorite song at the time.  I finally got 'Exile in Guyville' at a Grimey's record sale for $5!  I think this is probably still my favorite song from the album.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exile from Guyville talks a lot about sex... and Liz Phair in an interview said,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;I was pretty good in bed at that point from the point of view of what the guys wanted, but pretty bad in terms of my own enjoyment. And yes, that made me angry. But it was my own fault in some sense."&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, it's a pretty raw album.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. of Montreal: Id Engager -- Woohoo!  of Montreal is coming out with a new album in October!  It's called Skeletal Lamping.  Anyway, I can't speak for the album because I just have this one track, but I'll let Kevin Barnes tell you about it:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;i spend most of my time in a state of mild confusion and pensiveness. i imagine most people do too. this record is my attempt to bring all of my puzzling, contradicting, disturbing, humorous... fantasies, ruminations and observations to the surface, so that i can better dissect and understand their reason for being in my head. hence the title, Skeletal Lamping. Lamping is the name of a rather dreadful hunting technique where, hunters go into the forest at night, flood an area in light, then shoot, or capture, the animals as they panic and run from their hiding places. this album is my attempt at doing this to my proverbial skeletons. i haven't yet decided if i should shoot or just capture them though."&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not really that crazy about the track, but I'm sure the rest of the album will be too awesome for words.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3014424806561378478-665017393117797004?l=composition8.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/feeds/665017393117797004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3014424806561378478&amp;postID=665017393117797004' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/665017393117797004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/665017393117797004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/2008/08/summer-music.html' title='Summer Music!'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05704204213066914259</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/SVGlNCxsKHI/AAAAAAAAAIE/jo_41JVAQts/S220/Photo+102.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014424806561378478.post-5389736104674097819</id><published>2008-08-08T15:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T15:43:26.068-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Today was a terrible day for a few reasons:</title><content type='html'>1.  I hate chance.  After working so hard this summer, the standardized tests seem to be just based on luck (which I have none).  It all adds up to the conditions of the day, the severity of the proctors, how I am personally feeling that day, how fast my heart beats before I walk into the room, and whether my ADD kicks in right away or a few hours into the test. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  John Edwards had an affair -- after already being quite depressed by my Practice Test, I turn on the TV to find this all over the news.  It's something I never understand or understood.  Why would somebody have an affair?  And I won't preach about love because I'm not an expert on that subject. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But John Edwards used to be somebody to look up to in this year's presidential race -- I thought he was a sincere man, who had a stable family and strong ideals.   It was incredibly disappointing to hear about it, particularly because he also issued a statement that his wife's cancer was in remission while this whole affair happened.   Though his wife and family knew about the affair, so I guess he is honest in that one sense (though he lied throughout his campaign).  And what is even more despicable is that he told the press now, today August 8, 2008 -- the day the Olympics start.  I guess he's hoping that the Olympics would wash away this news. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the whole issue of loyalty is something that has bothered me a lot, since middle school.  I've found so many 'friends' who have simply tossed me aside for boys, grades, girls, the upper echelons of high school society, etc.. I'm in perpetual fear that all my friends will leave me at some point, whether by something I had done unintentionally or because I'm just the person that got in the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  There's no more computer paper, and I drank all the tea.  (Yes, little things bring me down.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3014424806561378478-5389736104674097819?l=composition8.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/feeds/5389736104674097819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3014424806561378478&amp;postID=5389736104674097819' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/5389736104674097819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/5389736104674097819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/2008/08/today-was-terrible-day-for-few-reasons.html' title='Today was a terrible day for a few reasons:'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05704204213066914259</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/SVGlNCxsKHI/AAAAAAAAAIE/jo_41JVAQts/S220/Photo+102.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014424806561378478.post-7596997203381482332</id><published>2008-08-07T08:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T15:45:21.533-05:00</updated><title type='text'>what I have come to terms with...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;(Part 2: Facebook)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh boy, don't even get me started on Facebook -- "it's complicated" (ha, just kidding, that was kind of a bad joke).  Recently I tried quitting the stupid thing; I mean, it's just a website, right? (No, it's not!)  Oh, I hate it, but I'm afraid it has become a necessity.  Communication is so easy because everybody is on it: high school friends, college friends, really old friends from elementary/middle school...  For example, I tried calling an old friend ALL of last week, but we just ended playing a terrible game of phone-tag.  But then I just messaged her on facebook, and it was that easy (we hung out, finally!).  It's also nice because I have friends I never get to see (because Sugar Land is 880 miles away from Nashville, 1,900 from Boston, 1300 from Virginia, 263 away from Dallas, 1000 from Charlotte, 1000 from Kentucky, 1300 from Ohio, &amp;amp; 160 from Austin), and they have photo albums.  I guess it's nice just to see a familiar face, even if it's on the internet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to end this passive-aggressive relationship, but I just can't.  So unfortunately, I have to take back my word.  Of course, I think I'll use it a lot less, maybe I'll just use it to talk to people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, one more thing that is really scary about facebook (besides the potential stalking that could occur) -- I always dread checking the "Recently updated" friends list.  It's a scary experience, especially when somebody goes from "In a relationship" to "Single" or "It's complicated".  Because it's so sudden and I usually don't get an explanation (because keeping in touch is something I really need to work on), bad things run through my head, although I'm sure they really are rarely (actually never, I let my imagination run loose too often) true.  For instance, I'll think, 'Oh no, what if her boyfriend tried to start a civil war in Mexico and didn't succeed!  I bet that's a complicated situation,' or 'Maybe he found out that she had an extra toe or she had two stomachs.  Ew that would be kind of gross.  Would you gain weight faster if you had two stomachs?'  or 'Perhaps she got pregnant and when she gave birth, it wasn't a human baby but a donkey or an octopus!'  It was especially bad when a lot of my online friends were graduating -- things changed from 'In a relationship' to 'Single' or 'In a relationship' to 'Engaged'.  Don't scare me like that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Today&lt;/span&gt; is the worst morning program in the whole wide world.  I don't know how many times they used the phrase, "Beijing Bling."  Yes, Matt Lauer, ha.. ha..., if only I had your VAST knowledge of Generation X lexicon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.P.S. Watch the first &lt;a href="http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=93254957"&gt;video&lt;/a&gt;!  Eli Sweet is suh-weet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3014424806561378478-7596997203381482332?l=composition8.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/feeds/7596997203381482332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3014424806561378478&amp;postID=7596997203381482332' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/7596997203381482332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/7596997203381482332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/2008/08/what-i-have-come-to-terms-with.html' title='what I have come to terms with...'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05704204213066914259</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/SVGlNCxsKHI/AAAAAAAAAIE/jo_41JVAQts/S220/Photo+102.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014424806561378478.post-1330963234796462730</id><published>2008-08-06T08:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-06T10:35:54.172-05:00</updated><title type='text'>what I have come to terms with...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;(Part 1: Body Image)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been trying to lose weight ever since I became conscious of my own body, which was late in comparison to other girls.  My childhood was just spent with boys, and they never talked about it, so why would it ever have occurred to me?  Though maybe I should have noticed when I was always stuck playing goalie because I was a little bigger.  But I was pretty oblivious (because soccer was too much fun!).  Anyway, middle school and high school was a nightmare, and I think some grotesque faces I encountered in the halls made me shy away from make-up, or at least it seemed unnecessary to distort one's countenance with bright blue and green.  And I grew contemptuous of mini-skirts and tank-tops, though I didn't really understand or reason out why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back then, I think I was quite baffled -- how were the other girls in my class getting a lot of attention from boys, while I had a hard time making friends with those same boys, which was something that came easily in elementary school (I mean I didn't want a boyfriend at all when I was a teenager -- it was just something I noticed).  But it was something that really bothered me.  I guess I was just not conscious of the obvious: boys have EYES -- retina, corneas, lenses, and a brain to interpret those images and a sense of judgment to approve (strongly disapprove, or ignored, the latter two which applies to the me)!  For some reason after high school, I became keen on salads (they tasted very good), and I got a new haircut because my sister was brave enough to ask -- so instead of my hair being tied back in an eternal pony tail, it was free to cross my shoulders and my forehead (it was awesome).  I lost some weight (by accident), and I looked different.  It was really weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in college, I realized that this kind of weight loss was good -- I felt like I had joined the spectrum of human attractiveness, though on the low end (but at least I wasn't being ignored).  Then I became obsessed with losing weight because it equated to such a good feeling -- I counted calories, exercised those consumed calories, walked everywhere, ate less, etc...  I just wanted to be skinny like everybody else and paid attention to (because clearly my interests and personality would not draw you in).  So I became sickly for awhile... weak in spirit and body.  That was when my parents started to worry and that made me lift a loose fist in the air and claim my victory with a faint whimper: 'Hey!  I'm finally skinny! Hoora---y!'  So then I started eating more and gained weight and then became a little sad (again).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here I am, trying to jog/step/elliptical/walk my weight gain away.  At the beginning of June, my body upset me, and I could hardly run a mile without having to stop after 5 minutes.  Through all these blisters, bruises and nasty toe nails, I've learned how to work hard for something and get some results (though I've been eating more, curse my mom's fantastic cooking!).  But point is, I can run 3-4 miles now and feel pretty good after.  I may not be as skinny or as attractive as I'd like to be, but I like feeling healthy -- I keep thinking that if I was in a situation where I had to run away from a bear, I'd definitely be able to stay alive for at least an extra 20 minutes.   I guess that doesn't mean I'll stop obsessing over losing weight (because I think that becomes kind of an addiction), but at least, now I don't think I really mind if the world ignores me or labels me as unattractive -- I like my friends a lot: they all have something interesting to talk about.   And I think I'm losing weight the right way and for the right reasons (well, sort of).  I think towards the end of this summer I can say that I'm very happy or content at least, which is a sentiment I do not use lightly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry if this entry was not very coherent...  There are still some things I need to sort out -- I mean the issue of my body has not been completely resolved, but it's getting there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I promise my future entries won't ramble as much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3014424806561378478-1330963234796462730?l=composition8.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/feeds/1330963234796462730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3014424806561378478&amp;postID=1330963234796462730' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/1330963234796462730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/1330963234796462730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/2008/08/what-i-have-come-to-terms-with-part-1.html' title='what I have come to terms with...'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05704204213066914259</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/SVGlNCxsKHI/AAAAAAAAAIE/jo_41JVAQts/S220/Photo+102.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014424806561378478.post-7608019626821673766</id><published>2008-08-05T13:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-05T14:25:50.088-05:00</updated><title type='text'>my first post is today!</title><content type='html'>So this has to be the third or fourth blog.  Maybe I'll try and keep this one up, unlike all the other (material) relationships I've had in my life -- this one is going to last (not likely), but we'll see. Oh I miss my piano, which I recklessly abandoned; my super nintendo, with whom I have tried to reconcile with by offering 'new' exciting games like uniracers and mortal kombat 3 or 2, I don't really remember which one; and my VCR player, which I have utterly taken for granted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, today has been a strangely ordinary one, although there was a 'hurricane' (and what kind of a person would name a hurricane Dolly or Edouard, which I have such a hard time spelling). It took me 45 minutes to look up information on it because I couldn't type the name in correctly -- Google kept asking in bold italics, 'do you mean &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;edward&lt;/span&gt;, stupid? or perhaps &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;eduardo&lt;/span&gt;?' I know when the internet is laughing at me, which is often.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/3/32/Ayn_Rand1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/3/32/Ayn_Rand1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So after reading/watching 'life-threatening' information on the tropical storm, I ate some breakfast while watching the rain just trickle outside then read the Fountainhead... I read a lot of it (not in comparison to the book though, which is about 700 pages, just a lot for me because I read like a first grader).  It was kind of intense, so I had to take a break. What Ayn Rand considers erotic is a bit strange, but I guess I can see why she wrote it like that. She is such a strange woman... but she has a smart haircut (I'm envious of her ability to wear a bob, and I guess her ability to write). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it's been enough sitting around for me.  I have to get off my big butt and study or do something more productive than having my vision impaired by this computer screen...which reminds me -- I need to pick up my contacts, or else I'll be blind for the next 6 months.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3014424806561378478-7608019626821673766?l=composition8.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/feeds/7608019626821673766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3014424806561378478&amp;postID=7608019626821673766' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/7608019626821673766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3014424806561378478/posts/default/7608019626821673766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://composition8.blogspot.com/2008/08/my-first-post-is-today.html' title='my first post is today!'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05704204213066914259</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VJHrzpwwWtA/SVGlNCxsKHI/AAAAAAAAAIE/jo_41JVAQts/S220/Photo+102.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
