What’s In My Mouth EPISODE 2 // Those Crazy Gingers

In which we make each other eat things no one should ever have to eat. Enjoy…

 

Still gagging on the cat food,

Anna Beth

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IRISH BLOOD // Those Crazy Gingers

In this week’s edition of TCG, we play a new game involving Google auto-fill, our terrible drawing skills, St. Patrick’s Day, and prank calls. ENJOY.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day,

Anna Beth

Butt Pop Challenge! // Those Crazy Gingers

We had so much.. er.. “fun” with balloons last time, we thought we’d do something with them again. Spoiler alert: Jon freaks out again. And, uh… so do I.

Hoping we never do another balloon video again or I might die of a heart attack,

Anna Beth

Most Likely To… // Those Crazy Gingers

This week we play the Sibling Most Likely To game and discover all sorts of things we REALLY think about each other…

Thanks to Zoella and Thatcher Joe for the inspiration!

Totally the funniest,

Anna Beth

In some ways, Flappy Bird is a great metaphor for my life.

flappy-bird-iphone-appdownload

If you’re in any way connected to the internet, you’ve probably heard of Flappy Bird– an addictive, ridiculously difficult (and pointless) game that’s frustrating innocents everywhere. I was curious and downloaded the app. It is as difficult and annoying as everyone says.

In my confusion as to why the game is so popular, however, it occurred to me: Flappy Bird brought out in me freakishly similar emotions and ideals as does practicing piano.

After I’d dealt with a brief existential crisis of realizing my profession is essentially the same thing as playing a superficial and annoyingly “fad-y” game, I was able to step back and look at it for what it really is– a dumb metaphor for my life.

Basically, practicing piano is like playing Flappy Bird. Tedious, difficult, and extremely frustrating, but somehow weirdly satisfying. Flappy Bird is piano playing on a smaller scope– you work really hard and it feels like you’re getting nowhere, but in the end you get six points instead of one and that’s something to be excited about. You rejoice small victories (e.g. memorizing that one pesky measure). You get frustrated at the small failures (e.g. ramming your bird into the ground before the first pipe even shows on the screen). Your own personal ambitions and need to be better than your past self help you go further.

I suppose that these things apply to any hard thing worth doing. And, to be fair, there are probably more dissimilarities than similarities between playing keys and running a bird into a pipe. But there, in my practice room, as I cried over a 4 point average on Flappy Bird and a particularly difficult passage in a Chopin etude I’m working on, they seemed awfully similar. Perhaps even one and the same.

I guess piano does have an end reward or two going for it, but take it from one who knows: there are few things in life as satisfying as making that stupid little bird go through those ridiculous pipes. And playing the piano. I guess.

Anna Beth

P.s. Boasting a proud high score of 12, I think it’s time for me to make room for others to soar (read: smash their bird into pipes and throw their phone across the room). Goodbye, Flappy Bird, and good riddance.