Life, Lately

When I was younger I was plagued by a sincere fear that my diaries and school compositions would be studied and published by future historians looking to illustrate life in the 90s. I’m well out of both the 90s and my childhood paranoia (which has only been replaced by adult neuroses) but to some extent that particular fear still lingers in the back of my mind. Since my last update, I’ve been relatively absent from social media, I haven’t written in my personal journal, and I also haven’t written any juicy tell-all letters to anyone. So according to the official record, the last couple of months never happened.

So, doctoral history candidates from the year 2519 (Hello! Do we still have polar ice caps?), here’s what’s been going on lately.

Recitals

Through April and May, I gave a cluster of solo recitals, and even taught a master class.

You know it all went well, because I got flowers out of the whole deal.

Sometime this century I will get around to uploading clips to my abandoned Youtube and Soundcloud channels, but until then, here’s the proof:

recital
Photo courtesy of Laura Holford.

There’s also an Instagram video, which you will have seen if you’ve liked my page on Facebook (wink, wink).

Amalfi

If my Facebook feed is any indication, one of life’s greatest joys (second only to finding true love or having your work praised by someone you admire) is announcing your international travel plans on social media in some clever, self-congratulatory way, so that you can convince people you are a worldly, important jetsetter, rack up as many likes as possible, and reaffirm your worth as a human being.

I am clearly where happiness goes to die, because I never got around to making one of those status announcements. I mean, I thought about it, and then I procrastinated, and then it got to the point where I seriously considered just not telling anyone that I was going to Italy.

That’s right, I’m going to Italy this summer to be in the Amalfi Coast Festival! I am excited! I am scared! I am not practicing nearly enough!

My biggest concern right now is what kind of data plan I’ll get in Italy, because I want to be able to upload all evidence of my worldly, important jetsetting to Instagram. #priorities

Instagram Travels

Speaking of Instagram, did you know that shamelessly reposting Instagram photos is a totally legitimate form of blogging? That’s right.

Because I am a spectacularly smart planner, my string of recitals coincided with some work deadlines and other various obligations, so by the time May was half over, I hadn’t had a free day in weeks and was slightly dying inside. So I did the only responsible thing: I canceled all my appointments one day and got on a plane.

Today is a “clear your schedule and get on a plane” kind of day.

A photo posted by Sharon Su (@doodlyroses) on

It was a short flight—just to LA, where I had the most painfully awkward conversation ever with a confused Uber driver, got to hang out with some really great friends, and experienced the wonderful, therapeutic goodness of a hotel bed. Here is my 100% sincere grown-up recommendation: if you’re feeling worn out by life and you just want to feel comfortable and responsibility-free, just go sleep in a nice, soft hotel bed. 

Then two weeks later, I was back in LA (planned ahead this time) for a weekend in Disneyland. You know, as adults do. 

  #latergram from last night: a memory of strong drinks and great people. #tradersams #dlr   A photo posted by Sharon Su (@doodlyroses) on

Ohhhh yeah. #Disneyland #dlr A photo posted by Sharon Su (@doodlyroses) on

Bryce and I were joined by our good friends Ben and Midori and we proceeded to spend most of our time drinking, eating, and Instagramming. #sorrynotsorry to anyone who happens to follow all four of us. 

  It’s 5 PM somewhere, right?   A photo posted by Sharon Su (@doodlyroses) on

Thanks for the great shot, @midoriwada! #nofilter A photo posted by Bryce McLaughlin (@brycemclaughlin) on

So in a nutshell, that’s what I’ve been doing—outside of the usual eating -> sleeping -> existential panic cycle, I mean.

(Believe it or not, I actually feel rather guilty that I don’t update this blog as much as I should. Once in a while I try to rationalize it: Jeremy Denk never updates his blog! But then again, he’s Jeremy Denk. I don’t think that’s an excuse I’ll be able to use.)

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Return of the House Concert

Whenever I go into any situation where anything is remotely out of my control (aka any situation) my brain automatically does this thing where it conjures up the worst possible thing that could happen, and then goes on to assume that the worst possible thing will actually happen. If I have a meeting with an authority figure, I always assume that I’ll either be verbally lambasted or stabbed with a fork. I’ll go days without tweeting because I’ll be convinced that my next tweet will be the one that ruins my life. Right before I left for Austria, I bought new shoes solely based on a recurring vision I had of myself tripping over my own feet and falling in front of an oncoming bus.

Usually the worst possible thing doesn’t happen. Except for that time a snail snuck into the house and crawled up a stack of my sheet music. That was the worst thing that has ever happened to anyone. But I digress.

So last year, when I set up a series of house concerts to scare my stage fright away (er, it made more sense in my head), I had no idea what to expect, and therefore expected the worst. Virtually all of the performances I’d ever given up to that point were formal affairs, in official performance spaces, with a safe divide between the audience and the stage. Performing in a more intimate space, with my audience members right within throwing distance was a rather scary prospect. Besides some rather fantastical fears, I had an endless parade of more mundane anxieties. What if I suffered strings of memory slips and flubbed everything? What if my audience was bored to tears? What if people hated my playing? What if nobody showed up? What if my hosts all regretted ever agreeing to this wretched experiment, and I had to live out the rest of my life in a cave as a hermit?

You don’t make the decision to put music at the center of your life unless you truly love and find meaning in performing, but when you get stage fright, it’s easy to forget what performing really means to you. So imagine my surprise and delight when all my concerts ended up being musical love-fests. My audience members enjoyed themselves. I enjoyed myself. It was just love and sunshine and happiness and pink fluffy unicorns dancing on rainbows all around.


This, I suppose, is my convoluted way of saying that I had a jolly good time performing last year, and I want to make it happen again.

So, friends and friends-of-friends and friendly strangers (preferably in the Bay Area or general vicinity thereof), I am once again putting out a call: if you have a home, workplace, or other facility with a piano, I will come and give a full solo recital! The process is easy in that there is no process; email me at concerts [at] sharonsu.com and we’ll figure out dates, times, and all the logistical stuff.

FAQ*

*Most of these are actually frequently asked questions, and the last one I’m just making up.

Q: What time frame are you planning for?
A: I’m hoping to contain this all in April and May.

Q: I’m not in San Francisco/Silicon Valley/etc., will you come and give a concert where I am?
A: My preference is for Northern California since it’s easy for me to drive around here. If you’re in SoCal/anywhere outside of California, we’d have to talk transportation.

Q: How much do I need to pay to host a concert?
A: Absolutely nothing!

Q: How much will you charge for admission?
A: The concerts are all free, but I do put out a little donation box so people can pay what they want, and only if they want to.

Q: Can I invite my friends?
A: Of course.

Q: Why would I want to do something like this?
A: Maybe you finished House of Cards (no spoilers please!) and need something to fill that hole in your life before Orange is the New Black hits. Maybe your chief social rival keeps throwing lavish parties for herself and you need to up the ante. Maybe you’re a self-made man of wealth and you’ve dedicated your life to throwing elaborate parties so you can win back the girl of your dreams. Hey, I don’t judge. I just play the piano.

Interested? Confused? Have questions/comments/concerns? Leave a comment or email me (concerts [at] sharonsu.com).

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The Great Lotion Experiment, Part 2

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This post is a continuation of “The Great Lotion Experiment, Part 1.” If you haven’t already read the first post, in which I explain exactly what led me to this point, please start there!

The Experiment

Back in November, something inside of me snapped, and I decided that it would be well worth my time and energy to hunt down a satisfactory replacement for the Vaseline Total Moisture original formula, Queen of Lotions. So I turned to the Internet, spending way more time than I’d like to admit trawling through lotion reviews on Amazon and various blogs. I consulted this thread and researched every lotion mentioned. I narrowed it down to five finalists, ordered them all, and then for weeks whenever people came to visit they’d point to the small city of bottles, tubs, and tubes on my desk and go “Uh…what’s with all the lotion?”

If you were wondering what my general process of elimination was, it was this:

1. I mostly stuck to researching body lotions (as opposed to hand lotions) because in my experience hand lotions are, across the board, richer and more slippery than body lotions. That probably means they are more effective long-term, but I’m someone who washes her hands after she uses the thermostat, so long-term moisturizing is pretty much impossible for me.
2. I also refused to consider anything that had shea butter as one of its ingredients—I’ve never met a shea butter lotion that didn’t leave my hands super greasy-feeling afterwards.
3. I also immediately ruled out anything in which a reviewer noted any sort of greasiness, even if it was minimal.

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Back row, left to right: Vaseline Total Moisture [Discontinued], Vaseline Total Moisture [being phased out, still available], Vaseline Intensive Care, Nivea Extended Moisture, Gold Bond Men’s Everyday Essentials
Front row, left to right: Udderly Smooth Body Cream, Udderly Smooth Hand Cream, Neutrogena Norwegian Formula Fast Absorbing Hand Cream

I gave the new lotions as much of a chance as possible. I spent several weeks using each one exclusively, in order to account for other variables. These are my conclusions.

(For my take on the original Vaseline Total Moisture, the first reformulation, and the new Intensive Care, please see previous post.)

Contestant #1: Nivea

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This is Nivea’s Extended Moisture Body Lotion. I primarily got this because it boasted 1) a “non-greasy formula” and 2) Provitamin B5, which was a feature of The One True Lotion, which gave me hope that maybe this was a similar formula. The horde of Amazon reviewers also noted that it’s definitely not greasy and has a pleasant smell.

The verdict? NOPE. Not only did this leave my hands uncomfortably slippery right after application, it also manages to smell simultaneously of plastic and of something burned, (yet not like burnt plastic) which is an admirably useless olfactory achievement. Good job, human race! You did it!

Also, Amazon reviewers are lying liars.

NEXT.

Contestant #2: Gold Bond (for Men)

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Here we have Gold Bond’s Men’s Everyday Essentials Lotion. I was trying to figure out why I got this instead of, say, regular Gold Bond lotion, but looking at the overwhelming number of options for Gold Bond lotion, I think my thought process went something like this: As a demographic, men must be more averse to slipperiness in their products –> Lotion for men must be formulated to be as unslippery as possible –> Getting a lotion specifically targeted for men must be the secret, QED.

I noticed that reviewers mentioned the lotion having a distinctively “masculine” smell, but as someone who generally likes that sort of stuff, I didn’t think it would bother me.

The verdict: To be fair, this lotion actually did pretty well, though it was a tad inconsistent—most of the time it left my hands with a clean-and-dry feeling that was pretty similar to what I’d get with the original Vaseline lotion formula, though once in a while it would veer into slippery territory.

But the scent—NOPE. NOPE NOPE NOPE. Like I said, I generally like “masculine” scents, but…how shall I describe the smell of this lotion? This lotion smells like an AXE body-spray-wearing douchebag fell into the vat at the Gold Bond factory. This lotion smells like it was extracted from the sweat of underpaid Abercrombie & Fitch employees. This lotion smells like it became extremely insecure watching those Old Spice commercials and decided to deal with its inferiority complex by overcompensating.

This lotion smells like what happens when decades of marketing and social norms have created a specific expectation for what men must smell like, and then chemistry gets involved, and something goes horribly wrong.

Don’t buy this lotion.

 

snl

 

Contestant #3: Neutrogena Norwegian Formula

 

 

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Next up is Neutrogena’s Norwegian Formula in the “fast absorbing” variety. I actually used the original Norwegian Formula lotion growing up because it worked wonders for my hands, which then were dry to the point of flaking. I remember it having a noticeably greasy afterfeel, but I gave this a chance because the new “fast absorbing” formula promised to be a lot drier, and reviewers claimed that it wasn’t greasy at all.

The verdict: So close. It does indeed go on without much greasiness, but it still left my hands on the slippery side, with the slightest hint of a coating, even when I tried to use as little as possible. The smell, though, is great—gentle, neutrally floral, clean, and totally non-offensive. This lotion arrived weeks after the Nivea and Gold Bond did, and after suffering through their misguided fragrances, the Neutrogena just smelled wonderful.

I wouldn’t recommend this for use if you have to play an instrument of any sort, but it’s actually a really great hand lotion otherwise, so it’s become my go-to-lotion when I’m not playing piano.

Contestants #4 and #5: Udderly Smooth

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I totally bought this Udderly Smooth duo as an afterthought after stumbling across a quilting/sewing forum where people were claiming that Udderly Smooth lotion was dry enough for them to use and still be able to hold a needle. If it’s good enough for quilters, it’s good enough for pianists, right? I assumed that the tub (the body cream) and the tube (hand cream) were the same lotion just in different packaging, and just got the duo because 1) it was reasonably priced and 2) the tube would allow me to take it on the go.

The verdict: I was totally disappointed at first when I just used the stuff from the tub. Like the Neutrogena, the lotion has a fantastic smell—light, floral-creamy, oddly comforting—but it left my hands super-slippery, even more so than any of the other lotions. I felt like the quilters of the internet had totally let me down, and now I was stuck with a giant tub of useless lotion.

Then I tried the tube, and realized that they were actually different formulas.* The hand cream in the tube was an entirely different story: while it still had that great smell, it went on with a significantly drier consistency, enough that I could play immediately afterwards without my hands sliding off the black keys. I don’t have to surreptitiously wipe my hands on my pants after using it. It’s also not so dry that it leaves my hands feeling oddly sticky. It’s not as brilliant as the original Vaseline—you won’t find me writing sonnets about it (maybe a haiku or two, though)—but you know what? It works. And in the end, that’s all I really want out of a lotion. That, and cow-spotted packaging.
*Just to make sure it wasn’t all in my head, I checked the ingredient lists—they really are different.

The Winner

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So, after several months of thorough testing and practicing, the winner of my little lotion tournament is the punnily named Udderly Smooth hand cream. Get it. Love it.

Quilters, thank you. Pianists, you’re welcome. Vaseline, you’re fired.

This post contains affiliate links. If you click on these links and buy anything from Amazon, I’ll get a tiny commission. Kindly use them so I can earn back a small fraction of the money I spent buying more lotion than any sane person should have.

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