This one I’m already working on.  I’m hoping by next September to have it.  But so far I’ve only been on the highway twice and it wasn’t one of the main ones.  So when I drive to work I have to take the long way and it takes me a half an hour to get there.  With the freeway it would only be fifteen minutes.  And the worst part of all is that I have to have a licensed driver over the age of eighteen in the car with me at all times.  So I have to find someone willing to take me driving every time I need to be somewhere.  You would think my mom would be extremely eager to get me out on my own driving, but because we work opposite schedules it’s hard to find time.  And once we’re both free we’re exhausted.  For the time being I’m being carted around by relatives.

I know what you’re asking, “Why didn’t you get your license when you were younger like everyone else does?” Well, with my extensive extracurricular activities I never really found the time.  Plus I was a little afraid of driving.  But now that I’m almost twenty-five I wish I would have just faced my fears and found the time because now I’m busier and I’m even more afraid of the road.  I’ve already had a couple good scares.  One was at a traffic light when the turn arrow was yellow and I was anticipating a green one to follow the yellow and instead of turning green it turned red and there I was in the middle of a four-way intersection.  I’m absolutely terrified of merging and I’m always going too fast or too slow.  AND I ABSOLUTELY HATE IT WHEN I GET HONKED AT!  Nothing makes me angrier.  The worst is when I want to make a left turn out of the supermarket parking lot and someone behind me thinks it’s taking me too long so they honk.  What do you want me to do asshole there’s traffic coming from both directions and I’m not going to pull out in front of a bunch of cars just so you can get on the road a minute sooner.  I know I shouldn’t let it bother me and I should just make him wait, but there’s something about the sound of the honk that just makes me angry.  It’s the driving equivalent of being slapped in the face.  I’m just glad the other driver can’t hear what I’m screaming.  And for that I’m grateful.

So this one is a lot like the “Audition for the DSO.”  It’s just something that would be cool to do and it’s more traveling (who wouldn’t like an excuse to go to New York City?).  Plus to me it’s just something I have to do.  I’ve been told all kinds of negative things about my oboe playing.  And even though I don’t truly believe I’ll ever get in I’d still like to say that I tried.  Who knows?  Maybe I will get in.  Though I’m not sure how I’d pay for it cause it costs like a bajillion dollars.  And I don’t have a bajillion dollars just chilling in the bank.  I would like to think that if they really enjoyed my playing they would find big scholarships for me.  But then again the professors at Juilliard are all John Mack disciples.  For more information on John Mack click on the John Mack link provided here.  Anyway, John Mack is not a favorite oboe player of mine.  In fact he’s one of the few oboe players that I can’t stand.  His playing is like nails on a chalkboard.  For a sample of John Mack’s oboe playing click on the link provided here.  If you would like to hear a talented oboe player click the link provided here.  Needless to say I’m not sure if I want to study with anyone who studied with John Mack even if it is Juilliard.  I know it sounds picky, especially for an amateur oboe player such as I.  But you know how when you’re watching the previews to a movie and you see that a no talent ass clown like Ben Affleck is in it, it just ruins it for you?  If you had no idea he was in it you’d go.  The plot looks good but just the thought of sitting through two hours listening to Ben Affleck try to act is just not worth it.  Maybe it’s not quite the same thing, but if I didn’t believe in the professors I was studying with I’d really just be going to Juilliard for their name on a piece of paper and that is definitely not worth a bajillion dollars.

This has been a dream of mine since I started playing the oboe.  And though I’ve been told and I now believe it, I don’t think it’ll ever happen.  This is becoming even more unlikely due to the fact that I haven’t picked up my oboe since August of 2012.  I just don’t have time between working 30 hours a week, school for another 25 hours (not including any extra studio time I put in on the weekends and at home), and taking care of any family business on my two days off.  I’m sure if I had the energy I would pick up the oboe once in awhile.  The sad thing is that oboe once was “the thing I wanted to do.”  I wanted to be a world famous oboe player, it was my ideal career.  But I don’t miss it.  I am so consumed by my art (that was so cheesy I cringed) I don’t even notice it.  I actually just realized a week or two ago that I hadn’t picked it up in months.  I have nowhere to play so I don’t have a reason to ever take it out.  This shows you just how dedicated I am to the oboe.  This makes it sounds like I never ever practiced, but when I had music that needed to be mastered for a concert I did.  However, for the time being I’m going to keep this on my bucket list because there’s no rule saying the shitty players can’t audition too.  And who knows I might be reinspired after failing an audition.

Why not visit Israel?  It’s beautiful all year round and there are all kinds of festivals.  There’s the International Klezmer Festival.  I absolutely love Klezmer music.  If you don’t know what Klezmer music is take a moment and watch this youtube video.  Don’t worry I’ll wait, just make sure you come back when it’s done. 

. 

.

.

I hope you enjoyed the video.  Now that you know what Klezmer music is (you probably already knew what it was, but you had never heard it called by it’s correct name, it’s usually refered to as Jew music) back to my original tangent.  It’s the only type of music that makes me regret not picking up the clarinet when I was younger. 

Then there’s the Tel Aviv Gay Pride, who doesn’t want to go to a pride festival in another country.  My friends and I make it a point to never go to a pride festival in a state we’ve been to a pride festival in.  It makes things interesting.  And since there are only fifty states, and I plan on being gay longer than just forty-seven more years, we’re going to have to go outside of the United States eventually.  Why not check something off my bucket list while I’m at it? 

Next are the more obvious reasons like trying new foods, the beaches, the Dead Sea, and Tel Aviv (it’s like the Manhattan of Israel).  However, I wouldn’t be completely truthful if I didn’t say I wanted to visit Israel for the religious experience.  I’m not the best practicing anything.  But I do believe there’s something out there, or at least hope there is.  I’ve found in my gazillion years of college that most people just give up on religion, they just see it as a made up thing that only stupid people follow.  Don’t get me wrong there are those that are tolerant and accepting, but the vocal ones are the ones I hear.  I have nothing against atheists.  It actually seems to be the other way around with most experiences; they seem to be the ones that give me the flack for actually believing in something.  Anyhoo, Israel is home to major sites for the three big religions Judaism, Islam, and Christianity.  So even if I weren’t going for a religious experience it would be very difficult to avoid. 

This is much like the last item.  I’m still not sure what to get my PhD in but I’m sure I’ll figure it out eventually.  Although I’m not sure how you apply for a PhD.  I know there are lots of applications, stuff to send to each institution, and a buttload of fees.  But do you have to have a master’s in the subject to apply for a PhD program.  I was under the impression I could get a master’s unrelated to my undergrad.  Whatever.  I am most likely getting one of my master’s in English, so that’ll probably be what I get my PhD in. 

I’m not quite sure why it bothers me so much to pursue my writing.  Probably because I’m convinced there is no money to be made, thus no stability.  And with as many student loans as I have no money being made equals living in a cardboard box and never having a decent credit score.  Which means I can never purchase a house or own a new car.  Unless I somehow save the money to just walk into a realtor’s office or car dealership and hand them cash.  But if I’ve saved this money it’ll probably get taken away by collection agencies along with my cardboard box. 

I am in no way implying that all writers will be penniless or that it’s impossible to become a famous writer.  It’s just one of those careers only a small percentage of people can obtain.  Like becoming a famous actress or country music star.  And though I’ll probably continue to write for my own enjoyment it’ll only ever be one of my hobbies, like music became. 

So I’ll continue to blog for the seventeen followers (that I’m SO grateful for :D) I’ve managed to snag and I’ll finish my novel for my mother who’s completely hooked on the story.  And maybe if I’m lucky some publisher will get ahold of my blog or read a portion of my novel and want to publish it.  But I refuse to let myself even entertain the idea of ever becoming a famous author. 

Since I’ve graduated with one bachelor’s degree and have gone back for my second bachelor’s degree I still have plenty of time to decide what I want to get my masters degrees in (And yes, I said degrees).  Especially since I can only afford two classes a semester. 

I originally wanted to get my master’s in writing.  But even though I enjoy writing I’m not sure I can see myself going to school for it again.  I’m still considering anthropology, but I’m not quite sure anymore.  Forensics will always be a huge interest of mine and I still want to be a forensic odontologist.  And being a dental hygienist is still a dream.  I weird dream, but a dream of mine nonetheless.  Math and music are definitely out, but I’m still going to audition for Julliard because it’s on my bucket list.  And math, though I enjoyed solving the puzzles, I don’t see myself ever excelling enough to earn a degree.  There are some things I just don’t get.  I’ve really enjoyed copy-editing with the Royal Purple (UW-Whitewater’s paper), so journalism is most definitely being considered.  And if I go through completely with my B.F.A. in Metals I’m definitely gonna go through with getting my M.F.A. in Metals.  If I get my degree and can still stand it I’ll go through with my M.F.A.  Though I’m not quite sure if I could ever get sick of it. 

Ever since I started at Wayne State I’ve been getting some really awesome ideas and look forward to being in my new studio everyday.  It’s not to say that I didn’t enjoy going into or that I didn’t come up with any ideas at my last studio because I did.  Here at Wayne State it’s just a different kind of inspiration, which sounds extremely hokey.  It’s like the same stuff from this professor came from the last professor, but my professor at Wayne State worded it in a way that made more sense to me.  I guess my brain just needed the rewording. 

After all is said and done I’ll probably end up getting my master’s degrees in Metals and Writing.  Forensics will probably always be just an interest.  And I have no interest in Journalism other than the copy-editing.  As for Juilliard, I probably won’t get in.  Plus I haven’t picked up my oboe in months.  And even though I haven’t picked up my oboe I’ve still been writing.  So I suppose that speaks volumes to what I really love. 

As a writing major I’ve taken a lot of writing classes, and to be quite honest I’ve only gotten anything out of three or four of them.  It’s kind of sad considering I’ve been a writing major for the past four and a half years.  Anyway, one of the classes I did get a lot out of was the poetry class I took last school year.  I can remember the first class.  The professor, a very long-winded man, spent the entire class period attempting to spark our inner poets by reading us Shakespearean sonnets.  By the time he got to the really famous one about a summer’s day and some person (I say person because we all know Shakespeare had a fondness for the dudes) the lecture had become so painful my A.D.D. had kicked into high gear.  I started doodling caricatures of the professor talking about Shakespeare and showing them to my friend sitting next to me, getting a kick out of her trying to stifle her laughter so the professor wouldn’t hear. 

As he continued to prattle on about the stupid love sonnet it dawned on me, I could make a pretty sweet parody of Shakespeare and call it Shall I Compare Thee to a Painful Bowel Movement.  Grant it I suck at sonnets, but I gave it a go.  I mean, the professor had told us that first day to pick a theme for our poetry and I had found it, poop.  I had chosen that particular theme to shock and get some cheap laughs.  My poems ended up shocking my classmates; some never said a word and others just asked me why?  But the professor loved them.  He loved every last one of them. 

It’s strange how wrong first impressions can be.  I thought he was annoying, but he turned out to be one of my favorite professors.  And he got me to realize that my poetry wasn’t half bad, it was actually something I was quite good at.  Plus at the end of the class I had an awesome collection of poems.  That was when I realized I could publish a book of nothing but poo poetry, and I could title it Shitty Poetry by Heather Murray.  I could get the masses to fall in love with poetry again.  I could get everyone to laugh and enjoy poetry.  Not to mention I would sell a buttload of copies and maybe become rich.  And though I like the thought of actually making some money I think I enjoy the thought of millions of people laughing at my poetry even better. 

In my short life, thus far, I’ve visited New York City a grand total of two times.  Each time I fell more and more in love with the city.  Don’t get me wrong I understand cities are dirty, smoggy, and violent places.  Besides my personal treks down the city’s streets I have watched A LOT of Law and Order.  I know they say the shows aren’t based on real cases, but they lie.  Changing a fact or two for legal reasons doesn’t fool me; they’re basically the same cases.  However, just seeing the city all a glow at night as you stand at the tippy top of the Empire State Building and even walking in the shadows of those great structures has made me want that big city experience.  I want to live in shitty studio apartment in Chinatown, with a stove that has only one working burner, and with the best view of a GREAT BIG neon sign. 

I’m probably over simplifying and basing my New York dream on every stereotype I’ve ever seen on television, but no matter how many bodies the coroner dissects on Law and Order you can’t deny they over romanticize the CRAP out of New York City.  They always start every episode by panning into the city from far above, the sun hitting all the windows in all the right places or it’s the night skyline lit up like a Christmas tree on steroids.  And you know every character in the show will end up at a classic New York City restaurant.  Which restaurant you ask?  Why, that depends on what end the character is on the cop drama food chain.  If you’re a lawyer it’s a swanky place in the center of the city where your wine glass is never empty.  If you’re a cop it’s a greasy spoon filled with the city’s working class.  But the best thing is these characters walk the streets like they own them, following clues and talking to witnesses.  I want that strut!  What I don’t really want is the $2,840 a month rent for my Chinatown studio or the crimes from Law and Order happening to me.  However, I’m not going to let the reality spoil my big city dreams.  To me, the statistics are a lot like outdated cabinets in a cheap house for sale.  They’re a minor fix, something I’m just going to have to deal with.  For a cheaper price I’m going to have to deal with ugly cabinetry.  And to acquire my New York City dream I’m going to have to deal with the crime and big city prices.

There are several good reasons to want a dog, such as companionship, and well I can’t understand why else you would want a dog.  I suppose if you used it to hunt or maybe you had some sheep that needed herding you might also want a dog.  But aren’t those forms of companionship?  I mean one is a hunting buddy and the other is co-worker, though we don’t ask for co-workers.  No one wants that passive aggressive co-worker that’s convinced you stole his lunch that one day and has been sending you scathing emails ever since.  And even though you did steal his lunch, you steadfastly deny it and contemplate stealing his lunch every day because if he’s going to keep sending you these stupid emails you might as well enjoy a tasty free lunch while you read them.  Okay, a co-worker isn’t a companion.

What I should be saying is that the reason I want a dog is for companionship.  I like having someone waiting for me to come home and someone to take care of.  I’ve had my roommate’s dog with me here this week and it’s been wonderful.  Hannah always wants to be near me and gives me someone to talk to, so now I don’t feel like I’m talking to myself.  Though it does get me into trouble when we go for walks.  I tend to say things like, “come on! I know you have to poo,” and, “Drop a deuce already.”  And I get way too excited when she does poop and you’ll find me saying, “Do I see some squatting action,” and, “Yay! You’re pooping!”

I know what you’re thinking, why haven’t you gotten a dog then?  Well, I’m poor.  And dogs need things like kibble and shots and those things cost money.  Plus, being a full time student makes it hard for me to be home enough for it to be fair to the dog.  And seeing as I can’t drive I would have to take planes to every destination that’s farther than I can walk because they allow pets and trains don’t, so then it becomes even more expensive.  But one day when I have my own place and I’m rolling in the money from my super awesome job I’ll be able to rescue a dog and spoil it rotten.

I know, so far, I’ve talked mostly about music, but becoming a forensic odontologist has been a dream of mine too.  And as you continue to read my bucket list items you will see I have several careers listed, probably because I could never see myself keeping just one career.  I figure if I switch up my career periodically I won’t get bored and I’ll always enjoy going to work.  I just can’t understand how someone can pick a single career and stick with it.  If we were all happy with our single career choice no one would ever retire, waiters wouldn’t spit in our food, and people wouldn’t go back to college to get a better job.  Think about it, the jobs we tend to enjoy are jobs where we don’t make a whole lot of money, or jobs where a steady income is uncommon (I’m mostly thinking about artists and writers, but if your dream is to be an accountant don’t let me stop you).  The cost of living is astronomical and most people stick with a job because it’s a job and a job = money/steady paycheck.  But if more of us followed our dreams and became artists or writers the cost of living would drop and we wouldn’t be so worried about how we’re going to provide our household with a steady income.  The government couldn’t ignore such a large portion of the population and stores would have to lower prices if they ever wanted to sell anything.  People would be in better moods and the world would just be a much better place.  That makes sense right?  Anyhoo, enough of my career dogma and back to this forensic odontologist thing.

A couple semesters ago I took a forensic documentation class.  Eighty percent of our grade was based on a GINORMOUS research paper.  In fact, other than a bone identification quiz, the research project was all that we had to do over the course of the semester.  The project involved, besides the paper and basic research, an experiment we designed. 

Since bitemark analysis had always been something I had paid extra attention to on the forensic shows I watched I decided to do my research project on forensic odontology.  For the experiment my research partner and I took bite mark impressions of six different people in clay and then had those same six people leave bite mark impressions in slices of bread (the bread biting was done while my research partner and I were out of the room).  Afterwards my partner and I had to figure out who bit each piece of bread by comparing the bread impressions to the clay impressions.  We ended up being pretty accurate; I think we just switched two of the subjects. 

When the class ended I had become so interested in forensic odontology I wanted to tack on an anthropology major, but the professor said I had too many credits and I should just go to graduate school for anthropology (he also asked me what I wanted to do with my life, unfortunately I couldn’t tell him).  I left his office a little discouraged.  Who am I kidding I was COMPLETELY deflated.  As I moped I remembered from my research that half of the forensic odontologists were anthropologists and the other half were dentists.  That’s when I realized I could go to dental school and do the same thing.  The beautiful thing about this plan was that I wouldn’t have to deal with all the gross things real doctors do, and for some of the yuckier things I WOULD have to do at dental school…well I would deal with that when I got there.  I mean, I just wanted to work with the dead folks anyway, so would it really matter if I was the master of oral surgery?  All I had to do to become a dentist was get into dental school.  To do that I would have to take a crap ton of science courses and pass the DAT.  And if I buckled down I could get through the science courses within a year and a half. 

Well, I gave the science courses a go and come to find out that unless science was my main focus I wasn’t going to do as well as I wanted to.  Plus, a year and a half is not enough time to take all these courses that have lab portions.  For two of the three semesters I would have to take three lab courses at a time and I could barely handle two at once.  And someone please explain to me what centripetal force has to do with teeth!  Whatever, I got passing grades and that’s what matters, so when I do pick my dental school dreams off the floor (maybe in the next decade or two) I won’t have to take Physics I again. 

After the last few oboe posts I’m sure you’re well aware that I’m my own worst critic, but I want a standing ovation that makes me smile, one that I know I worked hard for and that I deserved.  I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t practice as much as a performance major or even as much as a music major.  I should really try to pick up my oboe at least once a week that’s not during an orchestra rehearsal.  I just don’t seem to have the time for it anymore and that’s one of the reasons oboe became a hobby for me instead of a profession.

I may not be able to give you the time and date of my last practice session, but I still know when I’ve had a GREAT performance.  There are orchestra concerts when I’ve nailed all my solos and even though I may have squeaked here or there or I had a passage that just didn’t work out during the performance I know I did a great job and still deserve the applause. 

Orchestra concerts are one thing and solo recitals are another.  I’ve done two recitals and still didn’t feel like I really deserved the standing ovations that followed.  I know I worked hard, but there were just too many mistakes to let go.  Don’t get me wrong some pieces were great, maybe like one or two out of six, however that’s not even half of the recital. 

It may sound like I’m being really hard on myself but I know it’s my practice ethic that gets in the way thus making it my fault the pieces I perform aren’t ready.  And that’s why I can’t except standing ovations, at least not any up till this point, because I know if everyone of those audience members knew just how many hours I had spent in a practice room they wouldn’t be afraid to tell me just how bad the performance was.

For anyone who’s not in the music world that don’t know what a festival is it’s sort of like summer camp for musicians.  Musicians go to these festivals, throughout the U.S. or abroad, for a couple weeks and study with professionals from all over.  Not only is it a fantastic learning experience, but it’s also a chance to travel. For each festival you have to audition and send in all kinds of extra materials.  

I’ve always talked about doing one, but have never applied.  This I most likely due to my lack of confidence in my oboe playing abilities.  I’ve known musicians that have gotten into festivals and they are phenomenal players.  I don’t think I could never perform like that, not to mention pass an audition knowing the talent that I’m competing against.  Plus festivals aren’t geared toward hobbyists, they’re geared more towards those who want to play their instruments as a profession. 

I suppose getting into a festival would be more of that validation I’m seeking.  I just wish I knew why this validation was so important to me.  Proving a certain someone wrong would make me feel great, but they’ve been out of my life for so long now I don’t know why it still matters.  And I don’t know if you could tell but my attitude and confidence levels seem to be big roadblocks.  They always have been, but I’m not sure where to start building my self-esteem.  Though if I fix the confidence issue I probably would fix the validation problem.  Hmmm…

P.S. I know the picture doesn’t make a whole lot of sense seeing as I’m an oboe player, but I couldn’t find an oboe player with their teacher.  I settled on this photo because I assume this is what you would look like if you went to a summer festival and played the viola.

If you count CDs of recital music I suppose I’ve made a couple CDs of oboe music.  Technically though they were CDs of oboe AND bassoon music because I’ve never done a recital of just oboe music.  But it’s all kind of blah.  I can hear all my mistakes, not to mention the clanking of the bassoon keys, and it’s just…blah.  So I suppose this should say I want to produce a PROFESSIONAL cd of oboe music.  

Oboe has always been kind of a hobby and I’ve tried to make it my major/career, but it really took all the joy out of it.  It just seemed like work.  The main reason this is on my bucket list is that I’ve always been told that I’m either a mediocre oboe player or a terrible oboe player.  And though those that gave these opinions are not the nicest people, they are professionals and it’s hard to get their negativity out of my head, even when I know I’m not a bad oboe player (however there’s always room for improvement).  To me the cd would serve as some sort of validation.  Validation of what, I’m not sure.  Plus mediocre/bad musicians make CDs all the time; look at Kenny G.  And in the end I might just end up being a crappy musician with a crappy cd, but I’d be able to say I gave it whirl and I had the balls to put myself out there.

This bucket list item is pretty simple, I want this blog, or any blog I post on, to be famous.  I want a GAZILLION followers.  I want to entertain the masses from the comfort of my own home.  I want to share my writing.  But most importantly I want share my experiences.

This semester, on my journey to better blogging, I had the opportunity to interview an experienced blogger, Pete Prodoehl.  I’d say he’s pretty famous.  He’s been on the internet since 1994 and has one of the longest running blogs.  He’s kept his main blog, Rasterweb, going since 1997, which is a feat within itself.   I mean most people who start blogs start them for specific reasons and after a couple posts they forget about them (It hasn’t happened to the Flabulous Bisexual, but I’ve had trouble keeping it up.  Sometimes I leave for a couple months and then come back.  The coming back part is important.).

The other thing about Pete’s (hope he doesn’t mind me being informal) blogging is that he posts his experiences to help other people.  If he toils at a computer program and has to go to hell and back to get it to work, he then posts the process he went through and how he solved the problem.  He does this to HELP people.  He wants to give back to his readers. And, by the way, the money he makes on his blog via ads he doesn’t keep, he donates it to a project or charity he supports. 

Most bloggers write to vent emotions or tell a story, but do we ever think about posting to help someone?  Do we ever think, “I’m gonna post this story because I bet someone’s going through this too and it might help them.”  I’ve always thought about entertaining my audience, but I never thought of my experiences helping anyone. I just talk about me.  Hopefully what I post helps my readers, otherwise this all seems pretty selfish.