Perfectly Imperfect

So sleepy. Promise I'll respond to comments on the last part of Hot Like Mexico later, but I doubt they'd be coherent right how. Lalala.

1. I had a great idea for an original short story about a couple caught in a horrible, codependent, abusive relationship but refusing to admit it's unhealthy or that anything's wrong because they're 'in love'. Very high tension, lots of explosive sequences, sociopathic tendencies, general feelings of unease and borderline squickiness. Then I realized that Stephenie Meyer stole my idea and lamed it up with glittery vampires and emo kids, so that put an end to that. Sad day.

2. I think I would flip out with happiness if I ever found out that people were reccing my fics. Seriously, there would probably be major flailing and high pitched noises going on. Liking something so much that you actively want other people to read it is just about the highest compliment I can think of.

3. I need to start sleeping more than a handful of hours a night.

4. Had my Sociology of Gender class tonight. Ended up talking about sexism in Star Trek(why all the tight and short?), how much T'Pau kicked ass, and our general adoration of Leonard Nimoy with my presentation group. We also had a loud, indignant conversation about the fact that most of the world's bras are designed by men. What the fuck is up with that? Also, picture of Leonard Nimoy as a hot young thing.

 1. I'm ridiculously attracted to David Rossi/Joe Mantegna considering that he's old enough to be my grandfather. Seriously. I want to do horrible, dirty things to him that would make a sailor blush. And for some reason the fact that he's been with his wife since 1975 just makes him that much hotter to me. Not that I want to wreck his home or anything. Maybe someone willing to commit is just a turn on after my last boyfriend?

2. CBS needs to pull its head out of its ass and realize that all it's managing to do is piss off a huge portion of its fanbase. Yes, I like me some eye candy and have been known to watch portions of programs just to do some idle ogling. But you know what makes me stick around through the commercial break? If there's substance behind the pretty faces. And the ladies of CM have substance and class in spades.

3. I'm addicted to the CM kinkmeme. Not even joking. Every time I think I'm done, I see another prompt and off I go. Someone should probably take my computer away from me for a while so that I can sleep.

4. I'm way too much of an attention whore for completely anonymous memes. Not claiming stuff makes me feel all twitchy.

5. Even if someone answers the prompt I posted, there's a better than good chance that I'm going to end up writing it myself anyway.

6. I'm watching Alvin and the Chipmunks because MGG is in it and now I can't stop wondering whether or not there are any recordings of him singing. Does anyone know? And if there are, can you point me in their direction? Unless they suck. I'm a musical snob and I don't want to be all bitchy toward MGG, because I adore the boy to pieces.

Just obtained and started listening to the original Broadway cast recording of The Addams Family starring Nathan Lane and Bebe Neuwirth. Sweet baby Jesus on a cracker, this is so amazingly cracktastic.Is it good, quality music or storytelling? Not particularly. But it is entertaining, which is more than you can say for a lot of things these days.
ETA: Okay, Pugsley's song, What If, is more creepy than kooky. He's a little too bummed out about the idea of Wednesday not torturing him anymore. Seriously, incestuous S&M subtext isn't my thing.

Catching up on shows that I missed while in Italy. Is it sad that Neil Patrick Harris and Matthew Morrison having a sing-off on a half built Les Miserables set with an Aerosmith song is one of the hottest things I've ever seen?

Soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo druuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuunk. Talk later. k bye

ETA: Okay, I have absolutely no recollection of writing that. I was, clearly, very drunk last night. If you want to know the sequence of events that led to me writing that instead of the third part of Hardly Ever, well...

-First, midday choir rehearsal. Always fun when something cuts your Saturday in half. (I jest. You know I love that crazy choral music.)

-Walmart! Italy's a week away and I needed a new spiral notebook that I wouldn't be devastated about potentially losing so that I'd have something to write in when the battery dies on my laptop-plane ride, bus ride, etc.

-Choir pool party at the head of the department's house! Woo! I didn't swim, but I still managed to get soaked after someone jumped in while I was sitting with my feet in the water. Also, I may or may not have instigated taken part in some water pistol fights...Sadly, there was no drinking, but I consumed enough sugar to make up for that.

-Finally made it back home, where we had family over. Did some more eating, then proceeded to get falling down, can't-stop-laughing, can't-feel-my-face-and-everyone-needs-to-know-that shitfaced while playing dominoes. Have I ever mentioned that I love my family and how much they kick ass? Because I do and they do.

Now, I'm going to go back to bed for a few more hours.

So, I have a little problem. On the one hand, I should  be going over my pieces for tomorrow, making certain that I have all my timings and pronunciations down. After all, Italian pronunciation is Serious Business.

But, on the other hand, I currently have I'm-not-gay-I-just-happened-to-do-sexy-things-with-a-fellow-male-profiler!Derek trying to claw his way out of my brain.

Maybe just a short break?

ETA: This has gone beyond a short break. This is over an hour and 1000 words. Why couldn't Derek have just kept it in his pants?

If anyone has ever wondered what I do with my spare time, then now's the time to learn. Aside from a variety of awesome side habits, my main focus is learning awesome music. I'm a classically trained soprano working on getting a music degree. Tomorrow is juries-basically a performance exam for private music lessons-so I thought I'd share the songs I'm going to be doing with you fine folks. Enjoy!



Ah, the incomparable Diana Damrau. She's so fucking awesome that I'd probably melt into a pile of fangirlish goo if I ever got the chance to meet her. Look up her version of the Queen of the Night's Revenge Aria. The only person who I like better on it is Sumi Jo. And honestly? No one could probably ever top Sumi Jo in my mind.



This is probably my favorite song that I'm doing this semester. It's so sad and smooth and lovely. Her lover is gone and she is bereft, darlings. Heartbreaking in it's simplicity.



Samuel Barber was a crazy bastard and I fucking worship him. Seriously. This piece is just...gah. Love it.

I spent my evening watching pretty, black-clad boys play classical, acoustic guitar. If you haven't picked up on it yet, I have a bit of a...thing for hands. So, to sum up, pretty music, pretty boys, and pretty hands. Ho yeah, it was a good night.

I go to a lot of concerts both because I'm required to attend a certain amount of concerts per semester for my major and because I like music. On Monday I went to an amazing instrumental jazz concert. The trumpet section wasn't all that great, but the rest of the ensemble was pretty stellar. Plus, the guest trumpet player, who was a phenomenal player who made the other players look like ass, was a total cutey, so bonus points for that.

The concert I went to tonight was for the guitar ensemble. All male, all talented, and almost all cute. The only real complaint that I had was that one of the players, who actually played my favorite song of the night, was a mouth breather and his loud, annoying breathing really took away from my enjoyment of his very lovely playing.

On a completely unrelated note, I saw my ex walking from his apartment toward campus this morning. I thought about stopping and offering him a ride, then I remembered that he broke up with me as soon as he realized that I was serious about the physical boundaries I set when we first got together. I let the bastard walk.