Is water wet? *grin*Do you play any musical instruments?
I started playing violin when I was two and a half. My family likes to joke that I was reading music before I was reading English (true, actually; Suzuki method definitely gets you started on that track pretty quickly. I couldn't read the names of the songs I played at my first recital). I started piano when I was 7. Picked up drums when I was 11. By that point, I'd had enough musical training to pick up most stringed instruments with ease. Sometime during high school I discovered my father's stash of recorders - from tenor to sopranino. He bought me a nice (standard/soprano) recorder one Christmas and we started to play together.
Bet you didn't realise that recorders came in various sizes, did you? *grins* The grand bass is like a bassoon, and it's huge.
Anyway, I can play any of them, but the standard recorder is the easiest to transport, and it's in C so it's fairly easy to match up from there (traditionally, sopraninos, altos, and basses are in G or F, depending, and sopranos, tenors, and grand basses in C).
I've got a guitar I inherited from my grandmother which I love but rarely play. I also self-taught myself on tenor banjo (which is a four string instead of five string) which I got from my grandfather (grandfather on the other side).
We've got a harpsicord, too, that my father built. It's blue, and not dissimilar to the one pictured here.
Sometimes, when I'm home, Dad will improvise on the piano (he is an amazing improviser) and I'll improvise on the recorder. We're not half-bad, if I do say so myself. Sometimes I'll crack out the violin instead and we'll take it from there. It depends on my mood. :)
And then, of course, there is the noble nose-flute.
Well, the nose-flute fits in my pocket and definitely does not have strings. It is truly horrific but has a surprising range of sound. Just to annoy my mother, I decided to learn how to play the damned thing. I did.
Sometimes I'll come across it and give it a whirl. My friends have all laughed at me, but who wouldn't want to know how to play Beethoven's Fifth on a neon-coloured nose-flute? ;D
I also have a variety of tin whistles, fifes, a jaw harp, and ocarinas.
Oh, and I nearly forgot! My mother plays the lap dulcimer and taught me years ago how to play. Just a little piece of her Appalachian roots showing through. Dad built her dulcimer for her, and it looks fairly similar to the one pictured here.
So that's it for the moment, I think. I'm fairly proficient at learning new instruments (like languages, once you've learned to play two different types, the rest come very easily).
ETA: Oh, yeah, and I'd like to learn the bagpipes.
ETA2: because a lot of people don't know what a dulcimer sounds like, here's a video... make sure to listen all the way through, this guy does an amazing job. The music starts about 1m20s into it, if you want to skip the bit that explains that this man is the first Louisiana state Dulcimer Champion.
How many pets have you owned in your lifetime? Tell us about them.
Submitted by jennajellopy.vox.com.
When I was born, my parents already had Winnie (a Whippet) and Grover (a striped short-haired tabby, grey and brown and white in colour). Winnie escaped our yard and was hit by a car when I was four. When I was five, I helped to pick out a little Collie puppy, which I named Holly. (Yes, Holly the Collie... Winnie the Whippet, do we sense a theme here?)
Holly was such a good dog, and she was mine... there are pictures of me riding on her back when I was little. It was snowing and at our first house in Atlanta and she's just standing there in the yard and I'm on her back and wearing my Pink Coat (which I was attached to in a way that some might consider unhealthy) and we both look so happy. She died just a few years later, right after we moved into the second house in Atlanta. She had an enlarged heart, I think, and she died, right there in the kitchen, and I freaked out and sobbed and was really upset about it. It was the first time I saw my dad cry, and I remember him holding me close to his chest and rocking me and telling me that all things must come to an end, good and bad. I was eight and a half.
Not long afterwards, some family friends had taken in a stray but then were forced to relocate and they couldn't take the cat with them. They thought the cat was a girl and named it "Sally" but then they took her to the vet and... and they got him neutered. Whoops. Well, anyway, they asked us if we'd take the cat. Grover (named for Grover Cleveland, an originally ironic name as the cat had been the runt of his litter) wasn't too thrilled when we said "yes" and renamed the cat to "Peachy." (As you can see, we were highly original with our names).
Peachy was my cat. I still tear up when I think about him. Anyway, sometime during that following year, we briefly took in an abandoned kitten (do we sense a theme here?) whom we named Cinnamon. She ended up being too much of a problem, even for my family, and my dad told Mum we had to get rid of her. She ended up going to my aunt's property in rural Georgia, where she ended up an outdoor barn cat. She was never really suited to being an indoor cat.
That next summer (when I was ten, and Grover was 14, and Peachy was - we think - about 2, maybe 3), Mum had us all packed up and we were set to go to drop me off at Girl Scout camp. Now, Grover had the habit of getting out of the house and going to bask in the sun. We always checked the driveway, but Mum was in a rush and so didn't see him. We ended up backing up over him, and Mum got all pale and told me to get out and see what it was that she ran over... and Grover was there and still alive, but dying... it was really stunning to see. We scooped him up in a towel and Mum sped to the vets, but he died when we got there... she was so shaken up and I had a hard time settling in at camp; the cat that had slept with me in my crib when I was little was dead.
So, that Christmas, I ended up asking for a puppy. It had been two years since we'd had Holly, and it was odd not having a dog in the house. I didn't expect we'd actually get one... but we did. My parents took me and my little brother out and we looked at Shelties (as mum had wanted to get a "lap dog," though Shelties are hardly the type, though they're the right size). I picked out a rosie sheltie, but dad fell in love with a squeaky little runt, and insisted we take that one. Well, Dad won that one (even though it was supposed to be my puppy), and we took the male pup home.
After a weekend of debate, we finally settled on the name "Bandit," as the wee thing had dark rings around its eyes, like a robber wearing a mask.
I was never especially fond of Bandit. He was a stupid dog, and not in an endearing sort of way. Generations of inbreeding (he was a purebred, and the only purebred we've ever owned) had really made him a complete imbebile. He used to run, full-speed, head first into walls. It was sad, really.
So, we're up to the move to Connecticut, and the animals still with us are Bandit and Peachy. Okay? Good.
In Connecticut, Bandit and Peachy were the only animals we had. When we moved to England, we decided to take them with us and put them through the six month quarantine that was required of all mammals. It was terrible. I would NEVER put my animals through that squalor ever again. Our pets were in a "good" kennel, too, and we visited them every weekend, but oh, it broke our hearts every time... but we thought we were going to be there at least four years, if not longer, and wanted our pets with us. If we'd known it was only going to be two years, we probably wouldn't have.
Bandit loved England; the weather was MUCH more up his alley. He used to pull Mum's laundry off the line and he liked to knock the garden gnomes over (there was a cement set that came with the house). I think he was happiest there, of all the places we lived.
Peachy started to get ill occasionally during this time, but we attributed it to recovering from the quarantine...
We moved back to the States two years later (even though none of us wanted to leave; we loved England) and the animals, of course, came with us.
Bandit started to have seizures, which was scary. He had epilepsy, which is fairly common in purebloods, especially of his breed. Peachy started to grow thinner... By my sophomore year of uni, he'd lost several pounds, which isn't healthy for a cat.
Bandit died my sophomore year while I was away at school. My dad called to tell me that Bandit had somehow gotten into some rat poison (they think the neighbours set it out) and that it had caused him to have yet another seizure. But this time, it exacerbated a previously unknown condition - Bandit had an enlarged heart (another victory for "pedigree!"). After two days of battling the epilepsy and the poison, Bandit finally succumbed. He died while I was in the middle of my Death Rituals class. While he was far from being my favourite pet, he was still a member of the family. He was one of the few things that could make us all smile in the days following my brother's death.
A year later, at Christmas, my parents decided it was time for a new dog. They adopted an abused Blue Heeler/Australian Cattle Dog mix from a no-kill animal shelter. Her name was Jenna and she had no tail thanks to a bad docking job.
She's a sweetheart, though she is distrustful of men. She loves my mum and tolerates my Dad and Eddie's just a kid so it's okay. When I'm home, she growls at me at first, then within 20 minutes she's begging me to take her on walks.
My junior year of college, I got a phone call (maybe two months afte we'd adopted Jenna). Peachy had died from his FIV. He'd dropped even more weight (he'd been at about 10 pounds, down from 15, but then he suddenly went to 8, then 7 pounds, and was rail-thin... and his hair was falling out in clumps. I got a call from my mum to tell me we were nearing the end, and then one day, in February, he died. I cried. I cried so much, and right now my eyes are welling up, and it's been four and a half years since he died. He was wonderful. We think he was about 12 when he passed, though we'll never really know for sure how old he was.
He and Bandit were both cremated and we spread their ashes in the back garden of our house in Houston.
My folks adopted a new cat a week after Peachy died because Jenna was skittish around other animals and they didn't want her to forget what it was like to be around a cat, and they knew they'd want another cat soon.
So they adopted a big black
He is huge, and a loud-mouth crybaby menace. *grin*
And for that, we love him. He's a fussy cat and always wants to be loved on or petted, and of course my family obliges.
After I graduated, I moved into my own apartment. I was lonely and looking for a roommate, but knew I'd want a cat of my own. Of course, my family likes to adopt the animals that no one wants, so I ended up getting the meanest cat at the adoptions. He absolutely melted in my arms, though he gave the handler a half-dozen facial scratches... so of course he became mine.
Lo, meet Pumpkin, the Irritating:
He's a very independent cat with psychotic delusions. After two years he acts very much like a kitten (he was seven months old when I adopted him). He's got flashing orange eyes and claws that manage to find nerve clusters with uncanny ability. He loves his catnip and freaks out at dust motes.
He meows plaintively whenever I close my door but when I let him in, he looks around like he has no idea what to do now, then promptly heads to my paintbrushes to chew on them. This is not good for him or my paintbrushes, so I'll usually command him to get out. He understands me surprisingly well - he'll meow in protest (like, "Nooooooo! You can't make me!") and I'll say it again and he'll crouch down and look pathetic, then I'll say it again and his huff and leave the room.
He is a very vocal cat and loves to "talk" to us. He also fetches his toys when we ask (which is weird). He also likes the shower; in South Carolina, he used to get in and sit on the drain and watch me while I bathed.
I have many scars to thank him for, but I love him and he is my cat. He survived my apartment fire, and I was ready to run in after him to try to save him. I freaked out so badly at the thought of losing him.
Of course, I've had several turtles (which are now my brother's) and untold number of fish and snails.
Next pet, though, when I'm on my own? Probably a snake. I like snakes.
Maybe a ferret. *grin*
So there's the essay on my pets. From Winnie to Pumpkin, that's all she wrote...
ETA: or not. As an addendum, my folks adopted a Hurricane Katrina kitty (Speckles) last year, and my mum got two parakeets (Buddy and Tweety) for her birthday. There's also a ranch kitty (Mitty - Mitty the Ranch Kitty) that came with the property out in Kerrville. We have a lot of animals, and now with the ranch, there are even more...
Are you a morning person or a night owl?
Night owl. If I could stay up 'til 2 AM and get up at 9:30 every day, wow, things would be good. I've always been a night owl - even as a baby, my folks had trouble putting me down before 9 PM. My bedtime was 9 until I was probably 13, I think (while most kids are usually asleep by 7:30 or 8 in the evenings). My dad and I are both night owls while my mum is a morning bird. This proves good for Dad and I when we go to do things like astronomy. Mum'd crash around 10 and he and I would end up stargazing until 1 or 2 in the morning.
However, when it comes to work, if I can't come in at 10, I'd rather come in at 7 or 7:30. I like to get up early to avoid the traffic (and here in LA, that's pretty damned important). At Rent.com I'd get in at 7 AM and get off work at 3:30, which I thought was fantastic (and it was!). The flexible hours were great.
I get most of my best work done late at night. There's just something about those late hours.
What was the highlight of your summer?
Submitted by ladym.vox.com.
While I did a lot of really interesting things this summer, I would have to say that the highlight was definitely Lumos out in Las Vegas. It was truly an amazing five days. Crazy, insane, and tonnes of fun. I loved all the panels, heard some really interesting speakers, and had a blast playing water quidditch. It was so much fun to just connect with people like that!
It was wonderful to have that sense of community.
What's your favorite foreign accent?
I am a sucker for a Scottish accent. A complete and utter sucker.
What's your favorite song to sing karaoke-style? If you don't have one, why not?
If I'm singing by myself, I love Fiona Apple's Ugly Girl. It's right in my range, and is a fun song to get into. Plus, it doesn't have a lot of awkward downtime or pauses, which is usually the point at which I start to panic (as I have terrible issue with stage fright when it comes to karaoke). It's also not one that a lot of people know, so if I mess up a note or flub a word people aren't as likely to know I made a mistake.
I tend to do better with musical theatre-style songs, though I've done okay with Sheryl Crow songs, too. I know my range and what works with my voice, so I stick to it. *grin* Also, I like older songs ("Dream a Little Dream of Me"), as I think they work better for my voice. But yeah.
When singing as a group? Time Warp is always fun, too.
I don't really do karaoke much anymore. Social anxiety is no good, and I'd rather just sing with a few of my friends - preferably in the car, music cranked up. :D
What is your browser's default home page set to?
Submitted by Kelev T. Cat.
My livejournal friends-list, gmail, cnn, and fark (I use Firefox, which allows me to set multiple "home" pages). I usually pull up lemonde.fr and google pretty quickly, too. :)
Another Frequently Visited Page (at least once a day during MLB season) is the MLB standings page. Toss in the wikis for my RPGs and you've for my tabs pretty well covered. *grin*
What's the nerdiest thing about you?
Um. Everything. *grin* I mean, I have three LOTR-themed tattoos, that's pretty nerdy, right? I'm more of a geek, though, than a nerd.
( cross-posted from my lj )
Baseball.
It makes me cry like a little girl.
I don't know where to start.
And Houston... oh, jeez. Don't get me started. Too little, too late. No offence to back up the Rocket's return. Family friend or no, I still say he should have just stayed retired. This season was such a waste. Houston's season started off with a lot of hope, but a few injuries and some bad decisions have definitely made this team (which, if you recall, went to the World Series last year!!) completely useless. Did you see the stats from yesterday's game? They let a guy with a 13 ERA pitch. Game lost 14-0. WTF, guys? Have they just stopped caring? *whimpers a little*
I've been following the Red Sox this season, thanks to a multitude of friends who are Red Sox fans. They are my one American League team (my mother was shocked to hear that I was cheering for the Red Sox, but then, she was shocked to find out I was gay, so there you go; a world of disappointments). I have never been, shall we say, closely enamoured of the Yankees (My ex-bf Jeff can attest to this, and I am still a little bitter about the NYY defeating the Braves in the World Series while we were dating), so cheering for their rivals has not been a hard transition.
I've rather enjoyed watching the Red Sox games, and particularly enjoy it when the Green Monster is micced so we can hear all the hits that smash against it. Hahah. However, when it's come to the team this season, they have been plagued by injuries. It's not been pretty. Holy cow. Plus, being swept by the Yankees over the weekend hurt. I was literally cringing, watching the game on Saturday. I watched the game against the Anaheim Angels yesterday... they only lost by one run, but it still hurt. It all came down to the ninth inning. *grinds teeth* The team started off with such promise, but it's just... blech. Not been good recently. I hope the Tigers kick the shit out of the Yankees.
My unexpectedly pleasant surprise this season has been the Dodgers. I decided to root for them this year.
Back in April, over in my LJ, I said:
Anyway, pulling for the Dodgers a little this year... why? 1. Because they're here, and 2. this year's team has some promise... Long shot though they are... wouldn't mind going to pennant games in downtown... nobody wants to drive to Anaheim.
All I have to say to that is HAHAHA. Awesome. I totally won. The Dodgers have been top of their division (NL West, for those of you who don't follow such things) for a few weeks now, as their game has really tightened up and Grady Little (the Dodgers' manager) has made some very good decisions. Not to mention that they Greg Maddux. Holy cow, good call, guys! Seriously.
So, here's hoping the Dodgers stay at the top of their division, and here's to long-shots!!Do you have any tattoos? If not, if you were going to get inked, what would you get?
I have three (four?) tattoos. All three are Lord of the Rings themed. Other things may change, but I will always be a geek.
My first tattoo is on my right foot and is the Eye of Sauron. It's a cover-up tattoo for a Jesus fish I got during my last, frantic attempts to assert my belief in a system in which I did not actually believe.
On my left foot is an Elvish leaf (self-designed). The elves' society is one of studies and a love of learning, and this is apt for me. Also, the mallyrn leaf is the same leaf worn by the Fellowship when they set forth on their journey. So it is also a symbol of binding and lasting friendship. Then, of course, we have my love of nature.
On my left hip (just at my underwear line) is the word "woman" in Elvish (Quenya, specifically). I am a huge language nerd (with over a dozen under my belt now), plus I love conlangs, so putting a word in a different (created) language seemed appropriate to me. Also, I am a woman. This is not just a statement of gender, it's a statement of strength. Yes, I am (as I like to say) mostly gay. I did want some kind of queer-oriented tattoo. However, I'm afraid of putting something like that on my body, as I learned my lesson with the Jesus fish. "Woman" seemed safe to me, as no matter what person I end up with, I will always be a woman.
All of my tattoos are easy to cover up (shoes, underwear) and are not likely to stretch/change shape as I get older.
If I were to get another tattoo, it would probably be some form of the fleur-de-lis, considering my francophilia. I just don't know where I'd get it. I'm vain and like to be able to see my tattoos easily, plus they have to be easy to cover up/hide, even at the beach.
Recent Comments
-
Emily said:
If she gets a lot of squeaking when she plays, have her press down harder against the strings and use... read more
on QotD: Strike Up The Band -
Seshen said:
Our 10-yr-old is about to start the violin. It isn't TOO discordant at the beginning, is it? read more
on QotD: Strike Up The Band -
Emily said:
Thank you; it's very similar to the one my father made for my mum. It made me smile. :) read more
on Lap Dulcimer -
on QotD: Strike Up The Band