Airports are fucking weird. Like I’m dressed like it’s ‘95 drinking wine and there’s a dude in a three pieced suit next to me, someone in pajamas, someone who looks like they’re going to the gym after this, and like a million button up shirts.
Back after five sick days and feeling rough but hungry for some big lifts next week.
Fun story: So, two months ago, I hopped into a lifting rotation with a few guys on the platform and, after a couple of mansplaining back and forths, they convinced me that my barbell math was wrong and that we were using a women’s bar. After that, I went into my program and changed all my old logs and 1RMs to line up with that they told me.
Flash forward to today. I finally broke down and dragged the bar upstairs to weigh it. The bar is a men’s 20kg and I was fucking right the whole time.
So, to all the gym bros who thought I was wrong, fuck you. Don’t ever tell me that my lifts must be lighter than I think because girls can’t lift as much as you. I definitely can.
what i hated most about taking piano lessons was that my teacher expected perfection.
i used to go to a music school for weekend lessons, and she taught me, an 8 year old, music theory. i was eight! how was i supposed to be able to apply that to composition and sheet music?
when my teacher retired, i searched for a new one. my new teacher had a grand piano in her living room, but it was full of soft couches and she let me do my homework in the kitchen. she didn’t care as much about music theory, and when the structured books were too easy for me she recommended other classical pieces. she let me choose what i wanted to play and how i wanted to play it. it wasn’t perfect - i still don’t understand music theory or history. but it was better.
i went back to my old teacher, to see if i could pick up music theory again. i played für elise at the first lesson, as a diagnostic test of sorts. she told me i was playing all wrong - my fingering was wrong, and beethoven wanted it this way. i didn’t understand. beethoven was long dead - why would he care how a 14 year old from california played his pieces as long as it sounded good? sometimes the piece sounds angry, sometimes it’s longing and sad.
music should not be about perfection and playing it exactly the way the sheet music says. it should be about emotion.
if every pianist played für elise the same way, what would be the point of listening to classical music?