Billy Goat

I have become shamefully neglectful of my blog; almost as neglectful as Tishmeister is to hers.  I'm kidding, of course.  Voice lessons seem to spark my moose.  So, here goes another music-related post. 

I believe that I have informed the general reader of the following, but I shall reiterate just 'cause.  Dr. Singalot(yes, that's his blog name) informed me that I was still singing in my choir voice, and that I needed to develop a soloist voice.  So I did.  Well, I came out of my choir voice anyways.  And guess what?  It's a lot easier and clearer.  Guess what else?  I have a heck of a lot more vibrato in this voice.  Yes, that was experimentation with the little line.

Back to the vibrato.  Since birth, and maybe even before, I have been flooded with a fear of vibrato.  Those billy goat singers are to be feared and avoided at all cost.  So, naturally, I should withhold vibrato for as long as possible, right?  Wrong, apparently.  Dr. Singalot said that it was OK, and that it was natural, and that- *breath*- some of it was just shaking.  I can deal with this.  I would hate to be one of those singers jumping octaves with my vibrato.  I am starting to get used to the whole "trust the teacher" thing.  In piano, I can trust my judgement.  In voice, I cannot.

He actually told my mom to call his cell.  So, she did.  Guess what his ringtone is?  A billy goat.  Yep.  My fears are much lessened. 

Hittin' the High Notes

I have an internal pitch pipe.  This pitch pipe is extremely accurate for one reason.  I can always, under any circumstances, find an F, and from there, a B flat.  And from those two notes, I can find anything.  Why these notes?  Let me tell you a story.

A few years ago, the ERT choir performed an a capella piece- it was a hymn, but I can't remember the name right now.  It was an extraordinary arrangement- four or five part.  Simply gorgeous.  There was a solo.  It was above everything else.  How did it go?  It was on "ah", and it went high F to a- you guessed it- Bflat just below high C. Oh, how I wanted that solo!  Keep in mind that I was about 10 or 11.  I LOVED this solo.  I practiced.  And practiced.  And practiced.  A few years ago, that was HIGH for me.  My mom and I both knew I wasn't ready for it, and so I wound up not auditioning.  But to this very day, I still sing that solo.  And to this very day, I can always find an F.

Nowadays, a Bflat below high C is nothing.  Lately, I've been hitting the G above high C.  That's SUPER high. But if we ever sing that song again, I WILL be auditioning, and I WILL be hittin' that high note!  :)

James Levine

James Levine is my favorite conductor.  Ever.  Period.  Amen and hallelujah. 

James Levine is the music director at the Met.  He has done wonderful things with the Met orchestra.  He has made that orchestra one of the best in the world.  The orchestra doesn't just accompany, it adds brilliance to the operas. 

James Levine is/was a fantastic pianist, but he turned to conducting early on. What do I love about his conducting?  He is not a furious conductor; he is not waving his hands above his head and shaking his head like Willow Smith.  He does not look like he is about to kill someone.  He enjoys it, and you can see it on his face.  He dum dum dums along with the music, and he has this calm way of letting the orchestra know what to do.  When I've seen videos of his rehearsals, he always talks- alot.  He says that it's because waving his hands tells the orchestra nothing.  He is fantastic.

He calls Placido Domingo, "Placy", or something like that.  It's funny.  I love James Levine.  

The Countdown

There are only two more hours until midnight.  Why is that significant?  Normally, I'd be asleep by this time.

Well, I'm hoping that my SAT scores will come at midnight tonight.  I hope I can stay awake that long.  I'm not Tishmeister, after all.

My Big Voice

Overachiever, huh?  I'll take that as a compliment.  Oh, wait, that can be a bad thing?

I told you about the message my mom sent to my voice teacher about my practicing so much.  Well, I got the lecture en persone.  That's a made-up term for "in person".  OK, so maybe I was practicing too much.  I know better now.

So, in today's voice lesson, I learned something.  That ugly voice that I dislike singing in?  It sounds fine to my voice teacher, and that's the voice I need to sing in.  It's my "soloist voice".  OK, I'm trusting him.  To be accurate, I like singing in this voice, I just don't think it sounds as good.  But OK. 

I can be a loud singer, but it's just not how I sing all the time.  It's not my screamy voice, but it's not my choir voice either.  I'm not supposed to sing in my choir voice.  This is going to be tough, switching over.  I hope I don't lose my choir voice, but if I gain a great soloist voice, it would be worth it.

I'm contemplating...........

My Favorite Smells

I have favorite smells.  Some are a bit odd, some are pretty much universal good smells, and some are just plain bizarre.  Consider the following list:

Men's cologne.  Not just any kind, of course(most are disgusting), but there's this one kind(that also happens to be the smell of the shampoo I use) that smells so very awesome.  My hair tends to smell masculine.

Frying zucchini.  I don't even like the taste of zucchini, but the smell is heavenly.

Gasoline.  Yes, I am one of those people that love the smell of gasoline.

Buttercup the cow.   She smells so clean.

Rust.  This one's weird.  I like the smell of my hands after I handle something rusty.  Yes, I am slightly freakish.

Pencils.  'Nuff said.

Hot paper.  As in, when paper comes out of a printer and it's warm.

White grape juice.  

Coke Zero.  

Salt.  

Ice cream.  

 Now I'm making myself hungry.  I've got to end this list with one last smell.

Hot computer.  As in, when a computer gets hot, and it starts smelling kind of funny.  Arrivederci!

Blogless, but Motivated.

I'm proud of myself- I've done school today!  Yes, I have.  I just hope I can keep it up.  I've got 8 minutes before I make myself go back and do more.

I'm not sure what to blog about at all.  This is so frustrating.  I have had very little inspiration lately.   In fact, I don't think I will blog right now.  At least, not a real blog.  Maybe at the end of the day, I'll pat myself on the back for getting stuff done.  Or, I might pat significantly harder if I don't get anything done.  So, I guess I'll come back 10 hours from now to report on what I got done.

Until 10 hours from now, adios!

Standardized Tests- My Kind of Adrenaline

I know I've posted about my SAT scores before, but I have absolutely nothing else to write about.  I thought I'd give my captive audience of one person some humorous views of my test-taking history.

The first high-school level test I ever took was the ACT.  I was ten.  It was slightly traumatic, though I am very glad I did it.  We lived only a few minutes away from the test site, and got there early(like we always do; we tend to be way too early) and my mom walked me in.  We stood like cattle in the hallways of the University of F.  I wasn't that nervous(I was pretty naive about the whole testing process) and I walked to the door labeled "A-L", since my last name falls into that category.  A nice man asked if I had an ID.  I did, as I had gotten a student I.D. a few weeks before.  I still like that man; he's the test admin. for all my ACT tests.  He's so nice, and isn't a mechanical reader.  Wel-com-to-the-ACT-please-take-all-calc-u-la-tors-off-your-desk.  Thank-you-ver-y-much.  He had personality.  People like that make all the difference.  There was also a woman supervising.  I got sent to my desk, and the test began.  I don't remember what I thought during testing; it was a blur.  What I do remember is that I had a very bad stomach ache.  It kind of ruined the whole ACT experience.  I felt pretty bad by the end of the test.  Which is why I never eat something unusual the day of a test.  I scored a 16.  Not too bad for someone who still loves stuffed animals with a passion.  I was ten.

The next two tests I would take would also be an ACT.  It was about the same as last time, minus the sickness, and I also knew someone else in my room both times, which helped.  I scored a 19 and a 21.

The next test I took was the SAT.  Oh boy.  A new test.  We drove about half an hour to "Lakeside Academy" to take the test.  Well, shoot.  WHAT WHITE BUILDING?  There were a million white buildings!  It's OK, we are way early.   That's what I kept telling myself.  My mom asked a test taker where it was.  She gave some vague instructions, and Mom walked almost the whole way with me.  She left me, and I was alone.  OK, not really, she was within a phone call's reach.  Whew.  I sat outside with a girl who was a senior.  I started some weird conversation with her, and asked her about whether they would come get us when the test started.  "It's my first time", I explained.  She was nice enough about it, and explained that the admin. would come and get us.   Just like the ACT, we were herded like cattle through double doors.  Two ladies sat in school desks.  "Hi," she said.  You will never know a hi to be as sweet as that one sounded.  "Hi,"  I said, and gave her my name.  I was a special case, as I was so young(I think I was 11 or 12).  She sent me to a classroom to the left.  Everything went smoothly from then on, besides the fact that I left my jacket downstairs and had to run and get it.  Except for that, everything went just fine.  I scored pretty decently- the ACT equivalent of a 25.

And then, of course, there was this last time I took the test- I'm waiting on results.  I can't say anything was much different, except that I really enjoyed the whole experience.  Something about the thrill of tests, especially ones in which I excel, gives me this great pleasure.  Some people think I'm crazy for loving it, but it's my kind of adrenaline.  It's my substitute for roller coasters.  And I love it.

Procrastination- A Major Crappechino

That's my new term for frappechinos.  Not my favorite drink.  But lately, I've thought of crappechinos as something that makes you have a bad day.

You know what makes me have bad days?  Procrastination.  It's a definite crappechino.

My problem is FaceBook.  I am addicted.  I try to wait until I've done all my school work, but it just doesn't happen.  The idealist in me lays out a schedule.

5AM:  Get up and start school.
7AM:  Milk cow
8AM:  More school
10AM: Piano practice
11AM:  Find the cure for cancer.
12 PM:  More piano

You get the idea.  I tend to schedule impossible things.  So, I wind up on Facebook all day long.  Tomorrow, I'm determined to wait until I have caught up in school before I get on.  It's hard. 

I think I'll do better tomorrow, and I must catch up in school.  It's only day 4 of my freshman year, and I'm behind.  I will catch up tomorrow.  I will not get on Facebook until I do.  Maybe I'll do an all-nighter.  We'll see.

I have a Facebook notification to deal with.  Later.

My Stride and Crowds

I was reminded of this post that I had planned on doing while walking with my mom.

When we were in Disney, we did a lot of walking.  I'm good at getting through crowds, and tended to leave the group behind, when I knew where I was going.  Anyway, as we were trying to stay together through a big parade, I tried matching Grecian Girl's pace.  Right, left, right, left.  Nope, that didn't work.  I left her way behind.  My stride is absolutely huge.

I am 5'7" with very long legs.  I never realized how very big my stride is. 

I have nothing more to say on the topic of my stride, so I'm going to go into why I'm good at slipping through crowds.

First off, I am not apologetic.  I am going to get where I need to go.  I am NOT going to wait for every single person who needs to cross, sorry, but I paid to come here.  I'm not going to push someone over, but don't expect me to crawl like a turtle just so everyone can get their way.  Nuh-uh.  That ain't how WDW works.

Secondly, I am relatively small.  Relatively being the key word.  I'm hardly a mouse, but I'm not struggling to get through doorways, if you know what I mean.  I can get through smaller openings than some can. 

Thirdly, I do not get nearly as hot as others.  It doesn't slow me down.  I had expected to be very very hot at WDW, but it really wasn't that bad.  Maybe it's because I am used to the heat, maybe it's because I just don't get that hot while I'm walking, but I really didn't get too terribly hot.

So now you know about my stride and my ability to slip through crowds.  Whoop-de-doo.

Comfort Zones

The things that are out of my comfort zone are absolutely bizarre.  As I said earlier, public speaking is not one of those things.   What?  Public speaking was the number 1 fear of America just a few years ago.  But it doesn't bother me.

I've learned that being out of your comfort zone is a very good place to be.  Playing the piano at church is probably the best example.  That is way out of my comfort zone.  But I do it.  Part of it is my mom's insistence, and part of it is that I know it will work out for the best. 

Another thing out of my comfort zone is dancing.  Yes, dancing.  I'm a terrible dancer.  When we went on tour, we went to a workshop where we did some choreography.  My first reaction?  Dang it.  My second reaction?  This could be fun, even if I look stupid.  And it was fun, once I did it and just let go.  I'm sure I looked really stupid up there, but I enjoyed it, and that's all that matters.

Back to the public speaking aspect.  That has not always been in my comfort zone.  Definitely not.  I used to  be a very very shy person.  Speaking was not my thing.  The first public speech I gave was in a class.  Oh, and it was terrible.  But I was what, ten years old?  And I was in a high school class.  I did the work, I tried my best, and I gave that speech.  Over time, it's become something I just do.  I haven't actually had the opportunity to give a speech to an audience other than a class, but I have applied the skills I have to discussions. 

Oh, and solos.  I love singing solos.  Absolutely love it.  I used to get so very nervous before auditioning for a solo.  Not anymore.  I absolutely love love love it!  The moral of the story is, that some things will be out of your comfort zone for a while, but you grow into it. 

I'm not sure how to end this blog post.  I suppose the following will have to do.  Adios!

Help Needed- I'm Blogless!

I am so very blogless.  I need topic suggestions!  Help, someone!

Public Speaking

I talked to Moose Man today, briefly.  I asked him about public speaking.  He claims to be a great public speaker, and I believe him.  I can totally see that.  So, naturally, I assumed that he wrote the whole outline, then planned it out, and perfected his wording.  HA!

I asked whether he prepared for speeches by word-by-word memorization or by extemporaneous speaking(there's a whole story that I won't go into about me not being able to think of that word).  Anyway, he said that he writes his notes the night before he gives a speech or that morning.  What?  Is he joking?  That was my first thought.  My second was I wonder whether that's procrastination related.  No, he wouldn't do that.  Not that bad.  He explained that that's just how he does it.  So, basically, he does pretty much impromptu speaking.  This amazes me.


I love public speaking.  Love.  It's an opportunity to express what you mean, and an opportunity to craft it for your audience.  You have plenty of time to prepare(if you do the kind I like), and you can say what you mean.  It doesn't faze me much.  I like the thrill of speaking.  It's what I do.


I haven't had an opportunity to do much speaking lately.  I miss it, a lot.  Impromptu isn't my thing, but I'd like to try it sometime.  Maybe I can get a lesson from Moose Man.

Practice Too Much? It Can't Be!

This is for Tishmeister- she made my day for the second time with her requests for more blog posts.  :D

Well, I'm not sure what to write about, but at the moment, I am thinking about a message.  A message that my mom sent to my voice teacher.  And guess what it said?  It talked about how I am practicing voice like crazy, and how it's driving my mom crazy.  She asked how much I should be practicing.  He said that an hour a day is sufficient.  Darn, I wish he'd said something more on the side of, "Three hours should be the minimum."  Limit myself to an hour?  Seriously?  OK, I guess I'll just use the time to practice piano.  But that's not quite as fun.  But I guess I'll have to make do.  Uggghh!

I have never been told to practice less.  Never.  This is a first in my entire life.

I know that piano is a lot less strenuous than voice, and that it's hard to practice too much with piano.  With voice, you can hurt yourself.  I understand that.  But she seriously messaged him to get me to stop?  OK, I'm listening now.  I'm going to go....not practice voice.

On the Floor

I never thought I would be lying on the floor doing a yoga position to understand how to breathe.  But I have. 

My general thoughts on what a voice lesson would be like were probably about the same as everyone else who's never had one.  Walk in, sing a song, work on vowels, pitch, and get the lecture about how your hair should not be in your face, and walk out.  Lesson over.  HA!

I love my voice lessons.  I've only had three, but I'm getting the hang of it.  The first two lessons focused completely on breathing, and at first, I thought I'd never get it.  But after I worked on it at home, I began to get it.  Dr. R says that it will come with time, and it is coming.  Today, we worked equaling my break.  My chest voice is much stronger than my head voice.  Something I found out today: my break, which is the middlish range between head and chest resonance is about an E.  I thought it was an A!  So, he gave me some exercises to equal it out.  He said that my first year of lessons will basically be spent on that.  I'm excited! 

Back to the yoga position.  He was showing me how I should be breathing.  When you are lying on the floor, you don't have to work against gravity, therefore, you breathe correctly.  Pretty cool.  I figured out why voice studios tend to be large areas.  This is why.  After I was done with the exercise, I was lying there, and thinking, "OK, am I lying here for nothing, or does he have more to show me?"  It's amazing how stupid one can feel while lying on the floor :)

I'm realllllly enjoying voice lessons.  They make my day.  Along with piano lessons.  He actually told me that I should probably practice less.  More specifically, use my voice less, but I can do the physical exercises all I want.  Lying on the floor isn't exactly what I thought of as something you do in a voice lesson, but today, I have been proved wrong.

Forget the Birthday and Give Me My Scores!

All my blog topics have been fizzing out.  So, I thought I'd try one on the topic of anticipation.

There is one thing in particular that I am anticipating.  Three letters.  SAT.  I want my results back.  I don't care about my birthday, just give me the stupid scores!  They're due back in 10 days.  Ten very long days.  I dare not hope for the score I expect of myself.  I dare not hope that I score much higher than last time.  But I am in anticipation.

I day-dream about my scores often.  I'm checking online, on the edge of my seat, and low and behold, there's a 2200 right there!  I scream and push the computer at my mom, and proceed to do the all-time happy dance.  In reality, I don't expect or even hope for a 2200(this time).  But that is my dream, and you can't mess with my day dreaming.

I'd be content, even pretty happy with the ACT equivalent of a 28.  Honestly, that is what I would like to get this time around.  I got the equivalent of a 25 last time.  I won't be too disappointed if I don't score a 28, but I'd really like to see that improvement. 

My birthday can wait, just give me my scores.

My List

All my fellow bloggers have been doing lists, so here goes.

1.  I dislike jewelry.  I am currently wearing a bracelet I bought in WDW and thinking how stupid it looks on me.
2.  That being said, a wonderful lady bought me this necklace that had some kind of natural stone in it, and I love that one.  It's my favorite/only piece of jewelery.
3.  I am still eating like I"m in WDW, and I'm starting to have the figure of Minnie Mouse.  Not good.
4.  I don't tan.  At all.  I can be outside all day long in the blazing heat and don't change color a bit.  It's annoying, since it makes me look like an agoraphobian.
5.  I have brown hair that does not cooperate
.6.  I used to be addicted to diet mountain dew.  I would drink at least a liter of it a day.  I  had to stop that, and when I did, I felt much better.  Now I have one, sometimes two diet drinks a day.
7.  Sometimes I swear one of my legs is bigger than the other.
8.  All these have been about my physical appearance.  I need to change this.
9.  I love our brown piano, the Baldwin.  It has just the right action and tone.  I just wish it wasn't jacked up on two-by-fours.
10.  I can sing fairly loudly, but in our house, it makes it sound incredibly loud.  Almost unbearable sometimes.  When I practice with our family trio, I turn away from everyone and sing into the wall, which helps soak up the sound.
11.  I like high notes.  A lot.
12.  I am really bad at accepting compliments
13.  I am good at saying thank you.  The power of thank you is enormous, when used correctly.
14.  I am anti-pop music.
15.  I love to talk.  A lot.
16.  I love to sing even more than talking.  My life is an opera.
17.  My favorite musicals are the ones with lots and lots of singing.  I hate the half-sung stuff.  Oklahoma is definitely my favorite.
18.  I dislike coffee.
19.  I don't do thrill rides.
20.  I get more adrenaline out of a piano competition than  I need.
21.  I will never never ever get a tattoo, smoke, or eat twizzlers
22.  My ears are not pierced.  I've never wanted them done. 

.

The Criteria for my Future Boyfriend/Husband

Let me say this outright.  My future boyfriend/husband has a lot of criteria to meet.  These criteria have been carefully planned and laid out by a team of three- myself, my mother, and Moose Man(FYI, he actually wrote a book on raising children, so that's his creds to help narrow the selection).  Most requirements were laid down by my mother, but MM added the financial aspect of it.  I had some small say.  Here they are:

• Must be able to lift a large bale of hay with one hand.  This is very important, as we live on a small farm that deals with hay often.  
• Must be able to play Rachmaninoff.  Being a pianist, Mom sees this to be of great importance.  I think it would be nice to have musical boyfriend/husband.
• Must have a minimum of a master's degree.  
• Must have a minimum of a six-figure income.  
• Must have a strong investment portfolio.
• Must be a Christian.
• Must be good-looking(of course!)
• Must be very intelligent, preferably from an Ivy League school.
• Must be non-jerkish, AKA nice and well-mannered.
• Must never use incorrect grammar, spelling, or the like.  Some credentials in English are preferred.  
• Must have working knowledge of livestock.
• Must have a love of cows.
• Must be able to deal with my extremely sarcastic humor.
• Must have a love of Facebook.

I don't think I'm asking too much, since I can't date until I'm 28.  I've got a while to start looking for the above guy.   Maybe I should post some flyers now.  "If you've seen this guy, call the below number!"  Hey, it could happen.

Fireworks

I learned a lot in Disney World.  I have a lot of blog topics floating around.  When I say a lot, I mean it.  Debate over whether a cold bus is better than a hot one, my fear of fireworks, my aversion to rollercoasters, my sister's adventures, my extreme cheapness, slipping through crowds, and going from a pushover to a pushy are all topics  that I mean to address.  Let's try my fear of fireworks.

Fireworks just don't agree with me for three reason.

Reason Number 1:  It's too loud.  I don't like loud noises at all.  Disney is FULL of loud noises, and I didn't like it.  I plugged my ears for some things.  The fireworks have this huge BOOM that makes me jump.

Reason Number 2:  There is fire involved.  Call me a sissy, but fire's not my thing.  It's hot.  I cringe every time the fireworks start to make their way down.  It doesn't help that there is usually a tree nearby.  At Disney, we were standing under a tree while watching.

Reason Number 3:  Fireworks are relatively unpredictable.  If I knew exactly when fireworks made the loud boom, and exactly when they would be shot out, I would feel better about them.  But they don't.  I don't know when to brace myself, and it makes them enjoyable.

Those are my trio of reasons that I dislike fireworks.

Eat, Facebook, Music. Repeat.

I do three things with my life.  Eat, Facebook, music.  Repeat.  Ok, not really, but you get the idea.

I love food.  Yep, it's true.  I'm not the biggest person you'll ever meet, but I'm not the smallest.  I"m normal.  Whoah, normal?  It can't be true.  What?  Me, normal in any respect?  Anyway, it doesn't matter what my size is.  I still love food.

My latest passion are peanuts.  I'm eating them now.  Not the Planters, but the kind you have to get out of shell-thing.  Yep, that's a word.  Shell-thing.  These peanuts are just the right mix of salty and peanutty.  OK, the PSATT- Post-SAT-Trauma- is getting to me.

I think the reason I love eating so much is it's always something to do.  I am a bored eater, which is really bad. Really really bad.  On the bright side, I can share some of my mom's clothes. 

Facebook is an addiction.  I'm blaming it on Moose Man and Tishmeister, but I spend more time on Facebook than's good for me.  But those two people make my day on Facebook.  Often. And occasionally, texting.  But Facebook is mostly what I do.  I love checking out people's profiles, posting stati(that's the plural of status, ya know!), looking at stati, commenting, checking out pictures- the list goes on!  I am  planning on going to Facebook Anonymous one of these days- Moose Man said he'd go with me, and I can look on Facebook on his fancy phone to make sure I don't miss any notifications.  The horror!

Now, of course, I do lots of musicy stuff.  Piano, choir, voice.  Takes practice, ya know?  Not much explanation needed there.  Lots of piano bangin' and yodelin' goes on at our house.

Eat, Facebook, music.  Repeat.

SAT Today- Rambling About Nothing in my SAT Exhaustion

I took the SAT today- it was my second time.  I've taken the ACT three times.  Anyway, I feel really great about how I scored.  Which probably means that I did awfully, but I'm happy.  I don't dare to guess what I made.  I just hope for the best.

The testing was rather uneventful.  I think this one guy across from me was secretly laughing at my test taking technique and focus.  I can be f-o-c-u-s-e-d when I want to.  And have to.  I'm not sure what to blog about.  This isn't turning into anything.

Well, maybe if I ramble on long enough this will turn into a real blog post.  The math sections were easier than I remembered- I did a crash course refresher yesterday in the math, and it helped bunches. Me being the grammar nazi made the Englilsh sections a breeze.  It was like doing Facebook, except with less errors.

Oh, I see a window of opportunity!  Let's rant and rave about the grammar of America!  No, I'll save it for a more inspired day.  I'm exhausted.  I had my post-test pig-out-  ICEE with powdered donuts.  A mild pig-out, but a pig-out nonetheless.

Adios!

Grecian Girl

Grecian Girl(see post about names) would make a great door-to-door saleswoman.  She can approach anyone and say or ask anything.  While we were in an opera together, we went to get everyone to sign our program.  It's no problem for her to approach anyone and ask or say anything.  The only time she gets shy is with our choir director.  "You ask her, please."  And I usually do.  I don't know why she is hesitant.  But I can be bold.

I'm going to Disney World on tour with the ERT choir.  I'm not a ride-rider, and neither is GG.  So, we will probably be in Epcot.  And guess what we'll be doing?  I plan on taking lots of pictures with random people.  Yep.  In front of random objects.  Yep.  It's gonna be great! 

Grecian Girl has boosted my boldness- a lot.  Next year, I'll be without her.  I think I'll still be crazy without her, but it won't be the same.  No one is going to push me into the guy whose autograph I wanted.  No one is going approach with the dumbest, funniest question ever and ask the violinist just to find out his name.  No one is going to make me spill my water bottle all over the carpet.  No one is going to call me a crazy loud soprano.  No one is going to punch me when I am not paying attention.  No one is going to make fun of my operatic self.  No one is going to tease me about voice lessons.  No one is going to be able to sing higher than me.

I didn't mean for this to be a post about how I"ll miss GG.  But I will.  We've done so much crazy stuff together, and I plan on making Disney World a memorable time with her.  I can't wait, but at the same time, I can.

Confessions of a Cow Hypochondriac

That's right.  Cow hypochondriac.  In case you didn't know, a hypochondriac is someone who thinks that every little physical or mental problem is the result of some big illness.  Well, I'm a cow hypochodriac.

I guess I'm scarred.  After Lil' Bit, the Jersey heifer, had a whole round of sickness that included Milk Fever(a calcium definciency) and ketosis(expending more energy than one consumes- this nearly killed her).  Neither were our fault- it was her post-birth round of sickness.

Whenever one of our cows is not completely herself, I start to worry.  I check to see if their ears are cold, and check for trembling.  I watch the way they lie down, and carefully note how they walk.  I check the level of water, and check to see how full their rumen(sp?) is.  I will stay to make sure that they are not walking in circles.  It's what I do.

I would guess that I know more about cows than the average person.  Actually, I'm sure of it.  I'm hardly a vet, but I know a good bit about cows.  It's been so hot lately, and milk production has been down.  I hope that's why Lil' Bit is less excited about her food- it's hot in there.  I'm a cow hypochondriac.

Clothes Shopping

There are so many things I"d like to blog about now, including texting, America's view on relationships, and the morning ritual around here.  But those will take a while to write.  So, I turn your attention towards my next topic: clothes shopping. 

Yes, I am a girl.  Yes, I like having more than one outfit. No, I don't like shopping.  I hate it, actually.

It doesn't help that I'm 8 feet tall.  When I find a pair of jeans that fit, I buy about fifty pair.  It's hard to find jeans.  The "tall" jeans are in juniors sizes. I DON'T AND CAN'T WEAR JUNIOR SIZES.  Never have, never will.  Plus, all jeans seem to have holes in them.  I can make my own holes in jeans- that's why I'm buying new ones!  Don't rip my jeans, people!  And faded with writing.  I don't want faded jeans.  That's another reason I'm buying new ones! Geesh, do they take old jeans and sell those?  And don't forget the tears and sweat that go into finding jean shorts.  I don't want Daisy Dukes, but I don't want the old-lady kind.  That rules out about 90 percent of jeans, and 9 percent of the 10 left are too short.  I am in the lonely 1 percent.

Shirts are basically impossible to find.  Women's sizes tend to be a little large, but the juniors tend to be ridiculously small and written on.  So, I go with the women's sizes.  It's tough finding shirts that are a balance between cute and modest.  Really hard.  Super hard.

Don't get me started on bathing suits.

Strong Stomach and Semen Tank

For Tishmeister:

“Is this going to gross you out, because if it is, I won’t show it to you.” I laughed to myself.  He has no idea what a strong stomach I have.
Mom butts in, “She’s felt a calf en utero.”
“What??  Was this for 4H or something?”
“No, it was at home.”
“For fun?”
Now I’m laughing super hard.  “No, it was a pregnancy check on our cow.”
The rest of the conversation was about artificial insemination and such.  Cool.

I have a very strong stomach; I can’t recall ever being grossed out at anything.  Except the scene from Pride and Prejudice where the fat guy is eating like an animal.  That is gross.  But other than that, I’m pretty much unshakable.   I thought dissecting a deer was fun.

Turns out, the videos he showed me were of vocal chords.  Ones from normal people, from people with cancer, people with different diseases.  I don’t know how anyone could consider this gross. 

On a similar subject, we have a semen tank in our house.  Yes, a semen tank.  Guess where it is?  No, not the kitchen.  It’s in the piano room.  Yep.  I don’t really notice.  It’s just there.  From time to time, the semen tank company comes around to fill it up.  I wish I could learn how to do AI(artificial insemination).  The man who got us into all this cow business said that I have small arms that are perfect for AI.  He is supposed to teach me one of these days.  Mom is considering taking a class on it.  No fair.  I wanna come.