Cachinnation

He's touching me! Am not! Is so! Am not!

2007-03-10T16:13:00.000-05:00

I never realized how much kids tattle on each other until I started teaching elementary school. There's a statistic out that says something like 80% of class time is used on discipline - well, I don't think I use that much, but its not too far away. Out of that, most of my disciplinary interventions involve lines like:

"Keep your hands and feet to yourselves."
"Don't worry about what she's doing - you need to pay attention to me."
"If he's looking at you then he's going to miss my directions on the activity."
"Raise your hand! Raise your hand! We can't all share at once!"
"Only get a tissue if your nose is running. Then entire class does not need a tissue!"
"Is it an emergency? .......Then, you can wait 10 minutes to go."
"Put your recorder down until I tell you to get it.....you know you shouldn't squeak it on purpose like that."

But there are some really cute kids, especially in 1st grade. I tend to know those kids better because I help out with their P.E. class, too. There's a little redhead that raised his hand for about 8 minutes just to tell me he played the violin. Another kid gives me a hug every time she sees me. One class has this really energetic Hispanic boy who, I'm pretty sure, is disruptive because he's bored - but he'll behave if we let him play a song on the piano at the end of class. I could go on and on...

This week has been a rough one. My clinical teacher is out-of-town and I was left to substitute. I've discovered that children, even kindergarteners, can smell a substitute a mile away. But, the first grade has been my bright spot - even the double P.E. class (just imagine keeping 45 kids in line competitively throwing nerf balls at orange cones in order to beat the other class...). When P.E. was over, we had to wait for one teacher to come get her class. The kids are all lined up, but antsy, so I try to keep them occupied.

During this, the aforementioned redhead - who is quite precocious by the way - looks up and says, "Why do you keep smiling at me?" I crack up and ask back, "Am I not allowed to smile at 1st graders? How 'bout I just stare at you all like this...” I started making a bunch of silly and/or mean faces that the kids mimicked, giggling. The P.E. teacher turns around, "Now, ya'll know yer supposed ta be quiet....." The kids did manage to sort of stifle their laughter at my sheepish, blushing state. "Oops, my fault," I confess. Luckily, the teacher has a sense of humor....

Habit-Formation 101: Day 8

2007-01-20T23:00:00.000-05:00

This past week has been interesting and I've been promising to share stories. Well, here they are:

Opera rehearsals are going well and apparently, I need to remove the leading male's pants in the opening scene. Ok, so the people who already know me well are laughing now. For the rest of you, please understand that I come from a background of 11 years of Catholic schooling and a lifetime of Catholic-Italian guilt. Then, add in that my parents should be coming to a performance.....well, I just won't tell them about it.

Its not as if he'll be naked on stage, but I do have concerns about how awkward I will look attempting this. Let me briefly explain the scene. I'm a servant to an old maid (Deb, for those of you local folks) and we invite in a male beggar, "Bob". Its set in the 1930s/Depression Era, so this sort of thing did happen often. He comes in soaking wet and we remove his clothing in an attempt to keep him from "catching his death" (my line). The music moves quickly and nowhere is it notated to remove Bob's pants. All that is written is a line for me like " Take off....Oh, dear!" I figured that this meant that I was aiming for the pants next, but never actually removed them. I mean, that was pretty scandalous in the 1930s, right?

Apparently, our director wants to add in that somewhere before that I remove his pants and the "Oh, dear!" is for the boxer shorts. This is all well and good except Bob is sitting at this time and I have maybe 4 - 6 beats to get rid of his pants. The opera is supposed to be comical...

In other news, I cussed out the SAI Province Officer last night at her annual Official Visit. By accident - I promise! Oh, and before Rai dies in front of the computer, our PO isn't Marcy anymore. This one's much nicer and saner. Anyway, a group of us was hanging out in the new area of the Music Building just talking and goofing off. The official stuff was long over and we thought we were the only ones left in the building. It was after midnight, too. Our president, Brittnye, and our Sargent @ Arms, Ashley, peaked through the double doors that divide the new and old wings. Brittnye told us in a very teacherly tone, "Excuse me, but you all are far too loud..."

To which I replied in a very serious tone, "Fuck off."

To my defense, I was positioned at such an angle as to not be able to see our PO standing just beside Brittnye. I saw her as soon as she poked her head in though. As you can imagine, I was mortified and the other girls burst out laughing. Luckily, this woman is very understanding. When I explained that this was a long-running joke that I never would have used if I had known she was there, she didn't seem to mind. Um...I will call Brittnye anyway and make sure Amber really wasn't upset. I am certain that I won't live this down for some time, if ever.

Yeah, probably never. And I'm almost certain Brittnye will make a joke out of it to the rest of the girls at our next meeting.

Habit-Formation 101: Day 7

2007-01-20T00:03:00.000-05:00

I've been up since 6am. There are interesting stories to tell, but they will have to wait until Saturday. In the meantime, I will sleep. Good night!

Habit-Formation 101: Day 6

2007-01-18T23:38:00.000-05:00

Ever feel like you're constantly doing work and yet never really shrinking your To Do list?

If anyone happens to know some great places to stay near Florida State University, I would be very grateful. I have a few options that have been narrowed down from a multitude, but ideas are always welcome. Sometime tomorrow, I will create time to call the 3 on my list and ask lots and lots of questions.

I love travel, but I hate the preparation.

Oh, well, at least I can look forward to warm weather for my audition........

........before I travel to U of Michigan the next weekend.

I suppose I'll have to look up the "What Not to Take on a Plane" list later, too. Hopefully, I can get away with just a carry-on. Lost baggage is at some sort of all-time high and I know my luck is short of fantastic.......or decent even.

But, the weekend is coming and I'm excited! I get to sleep! And see people that I don't despise!

Ah, Friday awaits...with more exams to grade....

Habit-Formation 101: Day 5 - Part 2

2007-01-17T23:12:00.001-05:00

Um....about the fireworks........I stand corrected.

Damn.

Habit-Formation 101: Day 5

2007-01-17T22:32:00.000-05:00

Its supposed to sleet/snow/rain tonight into tomorrow morning. I can't say that a really care except that I live in relatively Southern city where no one knows how to drive in flurries much less sleet. My father is from Maryland which regularly receives large amounts of frozen stuff, so I do know how to handle a car in winter.....but you can only plan so well for the ignorant. Add on top of this that I am currently commuting to a high school with lots of unseasoned drivers....

*sigh* I guess I can quicken the tempo of my morning routine to leave a few minutes earlier. Its the responsible thing to do, but I would love to just stay in bed. Actually, not leaving the apartment sounds much safer than driving. Can I stay home tomorrow?

Today wasn't the short day I had hoped for, but considering we got out at about 4:30pm, I'll take what I can get. There are no extra exams after school tomorrow - I should be able to leave by 2pm. *crosses fingers and wishes really, really hard* I think I'll need the break before opera and our internship class. My day will finally end at 8pm, but there's always crap for me to catch up on....

....like audition travel arrangements, thank you notes, Christmas decoration removal, laundry and general apartment cleaning.

On another random note (well, the whole post is random), I haven't heard the typical fireworks since the church fires. Apparently, some people - we suspect drunken collegians - feel the need to set off fireworks into the wee hours. From my distance, these don't seem pretty or colorful, just ridiculously noisy. This has been an almost every night occurence since I moved here. Although, I consider myself lucky. Dorothy and Becky's apartment experiences the bright, colorful lights, too. Its probably a hell of a lot louder there as well. I know the police have stepped up the night watch, but it still seems strange without the pyrotechnics.

I'm sure I'll manage to get used to it.

Habit-Formation 101: Day 4

2007-01-16T22:36:00.000-05:00

Thanks to the person who left me the link of a far cheaper way to get my Original Star Wars fix.

The school week is a hard time to make decent posts. I always feel like I am rushed and just simply trying to slap something online. Oh, well. The weekend isn't too far away...

My Christmas tree is still up. Is that bad? No, I don't have a religious reason since the Catholic Christmas season officially ended last week. I just haven't felt like pulling the necessary boxes out from under my bed and closet and then taking everything down by myself. I should do it tomorrow - assuming I get out of school at 2pm as opposed to 7pm. It all depends on one student and my clinical teacher.

Personally, I'm rooting for 2pm because we usually get out at 3:30 and 7pm is way too fucking late.

I think that's a run-on sentence, but I have no time to edit. As long as you all understand what I write, I don't care. I certainly never claim to be a fabulous writer.....

Six AM comes quickly - cross your fingers for a 2PM escape.

Habit-Formation 101: Day 3

2007-01-15T21:00:00.000-05:00

So, here's a quick post before I crash for the night...

Since I couldn't find the mini-DVI cable I need, I used my Best Buy gift card to buy the Back to the Future Trilogy.

Yes, I'm a nerd.

I'm still upset that the original Star Wars trilogy is packaged with the "updated" version. So, in order to get the version I like, I would have to pay $70 for a special tin can and the version I probably won't watch. Stupid, stupid, LucasFilm.

Anyway, I need to get up at 6am.................ugh...............

Habit-Formation 101: Day 2

2007-01-14T21:40:00.000-05:00

Well, we made the National News today.

Someone or some group decided to set fire to 2 Baptist churches and break into another. One church is completely destroyed while the other's educational wing is severely damaged.

Luckily, my church wasn't attacked. Father Justin spent until about 2am last night patrolling the perimeter of the grounds with his car. Apparently, once 2 fires were underway, the police called all the churches to warn them of a possible connection. Father said that at one point, a car stopped outside the school, so he drove up behind them and flashed his lights. The car sped away. What's particularly creepy is that both fires started in school/daycare areas of the churches. Father is no idiot - he wrote down the license plate number and called the police.

It’s hard to say where a connection could be in the fires other than the obvious fact that the churches were Baptist. Ours is Roman Catholic, so if we really were a target than all we've got left is general church facilities. I wonder how many churches would have been vandalized if the various congregations hadn't gotten out of bed to stand guard at their respective buildings. Maybe there would be a pattern.

It will be interesting to see if that plate number is important in the investigation.

Habit-Formation 101: Day 1

2007-01-13T23:18:00.000-05:00

They say it takes 28 days to form a habit. Well, I just need to get past the first 2 with this blog....

Student teaching started up this week and while I would love to splatter that chaos all over the web, I don't know that I can without sacrificing my grade. I am aware that it would be difficult to pin my exact identity to this particular blog, but God has a weird sense of humor. Don't despair - I'm chronically the teaching events to be posted as soon as my final grade clears.

In other news, my parents pulled a wonderful little trick on me Monday night. A member of our extended family has been ill with lung cancer for several months and passed away Saturday. I received word at about midnight Monday night via voicemail after a 12 hour school day and practicing. The key points were "So&so passed away Sat." and "The funeral is tomorrow morning, but no one expects you to come." There weren't any specifics on the funeral arrangements either.

I spent a while trying to figure out how I could get back in time (assuming I could find out the time) and how I could go about contacting the Internship gods. It finally came down to the facts that I would have had to pull an all-nighter just to get to the funeral. This is with just getting over some post-Christmas crap and still being pretty fatigued, I figured that all-night driving in the dark could be considered dangerous. Add in that I would have had to drive back later on the same day as the funeral..... It was a bad, bad situation.

So, I couldn't go. I called my parents on Tuesday to find out how it went and why the hell they waited so long to inform me. No one answered and no one returned my message. Called Wednesday. Got my Mom who acted as if nothing could possibly be wrong. She had the nerve to tell me that they had waited to call me ON PURPOSE to "make it IMPOSSIBLE for" me "to attend the funeral."

I was speechless. I was speechless.

She went on to explain that they thought it would be best if I didn't miss any more student teaching days than I had to. With my auditions and such, I'm already going to miss about 2.5 days and may have to make them up.....blah, blah, blah........These internship people aren't heartless - anal retentive - but not heartless. And if I had to make up one more day, so be it. I don't care.

Whatever their reasoning - and may I say that the one they gave me is shit - this should have been my decision, not theirs. Apparently, they've known since last Sunday about the funeral. I could have worked something out and left right after school on Monday. But no.

I can't fix this and I certainly can't change my parents. I need to move on, but I think I'm allowed to be furious for at least a few days. Otherwise, life has been ok, but unfortunately focused on this fucking mess. Maybe I'll have a pleasanter post tomorrow.....

Merry Whatever!

2006-12-28T12:18:00.000-05:00

I'm determined to keep blogging. The problem is that it takes me hours to put out one entry since I write slowly and usually poorly. But, I like the concept.

Maybe I need very brief, daily posts to refine my skills (and maintain my sanity). Sooner or later I'll figure it out.

Until then, I repeat the words on a friend's T-shirt: Merry Whatever!

Anosmia

2006-10-02T23:25:00.000-04:00

The weirdness quotient just went up a little.

In the words of a friend, "How is that possible?" Well, simply by getting an MRI to confirm that I'm anosmic. Anosmia is the lack of a sense a smell due to several possible factors: childhood virus that damages the olfactory nerve/ bulb, deviated septum, allergies, etc. I've had several other tests done to narrow those options down to paralysis of the nerve/ bulb or tumor. Since I've never recalled smelling and lack other side effects, cancer is almost certainly not the cause. We're basically looking for how extensive the damage is. From what I figure anyway.

This mess started when I went to the ENT for vocal issues over the summer. Since I was already there, several people suggested I mention the fact that I've never been able to smell. So I did for curiosity more than anything else. Nasal sprays were prescribed and a CT scan was scheduled. The drugs did nothing perceptible and the CT scan ruled out the deviated septum or any other nasal deformity. The next step is an MRI. I can't say I actually think this will do anything, but my parents are willing to front the cost (out of some strange guilt) and I'm still curious.

Even with the MRI, chances are that none of this can be repaired due to the irreversible nature of nerve damage. So, its kind of like the doctors shoving me in a tube for a while only to say, "Congratulations! You officially have a paralyzed cranial nerve #1!" Well, thank you for that spectacular enlightenment.

I've been asked several times over the past few weeks why I've never noticed that I lacked olfactory function. The most successful response I can give is comparing it to color blindness. There's a test for it because otherwise, you don't know. I've been aware since about high school chemistry, but never really pursued it. My most convincing test came when I accidentally touched an oven mitt too close to a hot stove while moving a pot. I didn't realize anything was wrong until I saw smoke.

By the way, test your smoke detectors often. Mine didn't go off.

I think my favorite comment thus far has come from my mother: "So, you were telling the truth all along..."

Princess Mia goes Broadway

2006-08-28T12:55:00.000-04:00

In attempt to survive the droning of my Oceanography professor, I've decided to bring my laptop to his 2-hour class. Hopefully, this will make my posting more frequent and consistent although I would love to actually feel like my tuition money is going to good use. We shall see.

A few people knew that last Thursday night I auditioned for the Theater department's Chicago. I figured that as an opera singer, I needed to gain more audition experience as well as learn how to adjust to Broadway. My career options include both, so I should try to familiarize myself with both. The title of my post relates to a relatively recent Disney movie (before the company killed animation) about an awkward girl who finds out that she is a princess. Ok, cheesy, I know, but cheese done well and if you've seen the movie, you can see where my story is going.

I signed up a few days before auditions began and felt that I had a firm grasp on what was expected of me. The list included about 16-32 bars of a song and a group dance audition. There was also some suggestion of reading a part with one of the professors, but materials would be provided that night. With that in mind, I jotted down an 8:30pm dance audition and a 9pm vocal audition. I would have liked to space the two a bit more, but work and class didn't allow for it. Besides, auditions are short; I could go from one right to the next.

Arriving early for once in my life, I checked in with the students at a check-in table wearing my sweatpant capris, short t-shirt top and jazz shoes. Yes, I own jazz shoes, but they were from our production of The Crucible - not from a dance class. The girls in charge asked me about my audition schedule to which they responded with, "Um, you can't do that."

"What do you mean?"
"Well, the dance audition is an hour and a half long. You won't make it to your vocal audition."
"Are you kidding!?"
"Keep your voice down! The theater doors aren't soundproofed well."
I attempted my version of a whisper. "Ok, so what do...."
"SHHHH!!!"
"ok, so what do i need to do?"
"Go, talk to Ms. ---. She's really nice and maybe she'll let you come in for the second half of the dance audition."
"Ok."
"SSHHHH!!"

So, I sought out the dance instructor and described my dilemma. She was extremely kind and told me to just join in late. There were multiple routines and I should be able to catch the all lady "Cell-block Tango."

Now, I had a half-hour to kill. Venturing outside, I ran into a friend of mine and began chatting. He was preparing for the role of Billy Flynn and asked me what I was preparing. I explained that I was originally going to audition for Mary Sunshine, a very easily snowed-over reporter who always believed Flynn's lies if they made the murderess sound innocent. She's also the only role sung operatically while everyone else performs in an early jazz/ vaudeville style. I say originally because I had discovered that the department was considering casting a man for that role. Needless to say, a guy in drag singing mezzo-soprano will always beat out the funniest female soprano. I had brought "Green finch and linnet bird" from Sondheim's Sweeney Todd. I figured that most people wouldn't be reading for a lead anyway and if they liked me, they would place me where they wanted me after callbacks.

"So, who's monologue are you reading?"
".....monologue?"
"You're supposed to prepare a monologue."
"Wait, that wasn't posted on the sign-up board! It sounded like they would just have improv with a professor...."
"Don't worry. There's copies inside - just grab one of them."

So I did and I'm proud to say that I learned Velma's monologue from "Cell Block Tango" in less than 30 minutes. I figured since I was already ticked off, it would be just a small step to murderous bitch.

My audition drew nearer and I decided to sing a little just to make sure I was still vocally warm. There were quite a few others singing outside, so I didn't figure this would be a problem. I sang all of about 6 bars full voice when a side door flew open.

"Who's singing out hear?!"
I sheepishly raised my hand, " Uh, me. Sorry."
"We're trying to work in here, so could you find somewhere else?"

After apologizing again, I figured if my voice could carry inside the building, I was warm enough. I thought that guy was a teacher and was just annoyed because audition chaos was invading the school. Oh, well. I scampered inside to get in line. The same check-in girls were lining up 9 o'clock people and I waited for my name to be called. It wasn't. I questioned and got the response of, "Oh, so you are here?"

Nope, I showed up about an hour early only to leave just before I'm supposed to sing. Gosh.

"Ok, well do you have your paperwork?"
"What paperwork?" I answered suddenly feeling exhausted.
"Well, we'll move you to 9:30 and have to fill it out."

Can I just say that I could have filled out that stupid half-sheet of paper when I checked-in originally or even in line? All that was needed was my contact information, emergency contact information, spouse/boyfriend/best friend contact information and schedule conflicts. Then, I was told to wait for my turn to get in line ("Please don't go anywhere this time.").

I should now mention the massive amount of costumes surrounding me. Girls in full flapper outfits with push-up bras, wigs and stage make-up stared at me. Personally, that didn't bother me - you're supposed to go into an audition dressed neutrally, not as a character. Granted, I wished I had dressed more professionally or at least decided to forego the flattening sports bra, but whatever. I could sing and act and that's all I cared about.

My turn finally came up and I strolled into the studio confident and effervescent. I greeted everyone and stopped dead in my tracks. The teacher who was so annoyed with my singing was sitting right in front of me. Directly in front of me. After a mental Fuck!, I prepared myself to sing.

Startled and worn-down as I was, I believe that I sang well. My monologue sounded good, but unless they took the shaking for unbridled rage, I think I sunk it. I left the room with a smile on my face and made my way to the dance studio. As I watched the routine, I prepared myself to jump in at the next chance. Considering the short length of the audition routine, this wasn't too bad. Just as I was about to jump in, the instructor turned off the radio and announced that the callback list would be posted tomorrow.

The ridiculous thing is that I was certain that I could have danced that routine and danced it well. Go figure. Needless to say, I did not receive a callback, but so far, several people have really enjoyed the story. They don't call it "getting experience" for nothing. Now, if I only thought that this experience would help me in the real world....

Alright Already!

2006-08-22T22:09:00.000-04:00

Ok, people...after reading many emails/comments that I need to post, I'm going to post. And I've discovered that there's more than one person reading my blog. Seriously, I thought it was just Rai.

So here goes a couple of weeks worth of updates:

Kim's wedding was beautiful and very amusing for those of us who know her well. Her nephew was the ringbearer and was given a large bell along with instructions to yell "The bride is coming!" Considering the hyperactivity of this 4 year-old, I think this was far better than entrusting the actual rings to his small hands. No Wagner was allowed, so instead she entered during "The Great Gate of Kiev" from Pictures at an Exhibition. The boisterous opening bars played on a loud organ in a small stone church startled a good portion of the guests. I was informed beforehand and therefore was allowed to make observations and giggle. The groom's father sang a beautiful song - he might have written it, too, but I'm sure on that.

The humorous part of the service for me came at communion. I'm Catholic just so we're all on the same page and the wedding took place in a Protestant church. I am not supposed to receive communion - its a simple difference in beliefs about the meaning of it all and a whole other post. Anyway, a small group of people get up and grab these trays of tiny pieces of bread and little cups of wine or grape juice or whatever...it would have stained my outfit either way. The way this apparently works is that the tray carriers pass the trays down the row and then they get passed back. On to the next row. I had thought about this and even mentioned it to Kim, so I wouldn't cause problems at her wedding. It seemed simple enough - I just pass the tray on.

No. I wasn't counting on the persistence of these people. The girl handling the trays passed it to me and I passed it along. Then, I tried to give it back to her and she took it. And held it right in front of me. I whispered a "No, thank you," but she didn't seem to hear me. So, I repeated myself. She still didn't get it. By this time, the other handlers were way past her and I could sense an impending scene should I have to talk louder in that echo-y church. I don't know - maybe she was deaf? So, I shot her a Look and waved my hand to suggest she move on. With a glare, she raised her trays indignantly and proceeded to the next row. This wouldn't have been all that embarrassing if my friends weren't unsuccessfully stifling laughter next to me.

A week later, to satisfy my need for impossible arguments and swollen eyes, I trekked back to my parents' house. By the time I had gotten there, I was exhausted. I had sat in a doctor's office, spent several hours conversing with the Residency people and driven over 2 hours. At precisely 11pm, my father cut off the TV and said, "We need to talk." I now understand the dread men feel over this phrase. To sum up our 2 hour discussion, I'm self-centered, overly naive and lack motivation. By the way, I didn't get in-state residency and was told that I needed to show proof of a student loan without a family co-signer. Translation: I'm screwed. This is what set my father off. This situation was my fault; I should have come home for the summer and worked at a friend's restaurant. Ledo's was the direct result of my selfish desire to screw my family and stay in my apartment.

The grad school discussion is what set me off - I'm used to the other shit. How am I going to pay for it? How do I know I'll get in? Couldn't I go for some other degree because I can sing and the degree makes no difference in auditions for opera companies or Broadway? And speaking of, didn't I always want to set up my own business right around here and sing in church? Wouldn't I be happy just singing in church? And the voice problems I've had, aren't they my fault for stressing too much and, if I stress so much, isn't that a sign that I'm going into the wrong career? Etc, etc, etc. I am proud to say that my father raised his voice and I snapped right back, "Don't talk to me that way!" Um, maybe not smart, but still a step for me. Since then, things have settled back down, but I know it won't last.

Speaking of grad schools, I'm planning on going up to Manhattan during Fall Break. Aaron is going to try to travel with me, but he's staying at one of his friend's places. I'll stay with someone else - I'm not sure who yet, but there's the possibility of one of Tony's friends letting me stay. Don't worry, I do know these people and I completely trust Tony not to stick me with a crazy person. I've got a few ideas about teachers and I'll contact a few this week about setting up a lesson. Its so exciting! Oh, and my parents don't know........ :)

I've gotten several messages about that last post, so I should explain that. My best friend in elementary and middle school was a guy named John. About halfway through 6th grade, his family was transferred to Florida and we were serious pen pals until a received a particular letter. He said that he had shot his sister. Not badly but enough to get arrested for it. His letter was written quickly and sloppily with a distinct note of desperation. He kept asking me to pray for him. Three days later, I received another short letter in about the same style.

I don't remember if I ever wrote back. Actually, I didn't remember those letters until I found a box recently of his letters and little things he gave me. I was reminiscing fondly when I came across those two letters. Suddenly, I felt cold and guilty - he was begging for my help and the person he trusted most, loved, confided in and routinely stuck up for was never there when he needed her the most. I just have this strong feeling that I didn't. The horrible thing is I can't remember why. Did I get freaked out or did my mother (who made a point to read my letters) forbid me to write? Both are possible, but after much brain-racking I still don't know. I had one letter two years after those others written in his normal style. Quite frankly, I sobbed that night. Not the I'm-in-trouble-with-my-parents-again cry, it was an odd, immensely painful episode.

I waited a day to settle my nerves and composed a letter apologizing for not keeping in touch. I didn't mention why I felt the strong need to contact him, just asked about him and updated a little about my life. I sent it to the last address I have for him. I have yet to receive a reply. I'm not terribly optimistic, but I wanted to try. I had to try. And I can think of several people who would laugh at me for such an attempt. He may have gotten the letter and torn it up. I may never know, but at least I tried. And that, in itself, has made me feel a little bit better.

2006-07-31T23:22:00.000-04:00

Ever done something that others would see as really silly, but you felt like it was something you needed to do? I did it anyway and we'll see how it turns out.

Kim's wedding was beautiful. More on that when I'm not half-asleep.

Out and About

2006-07-26T23:25:00.000-04:00

There is one month left until school officially starts up again. I am determined to use this time to turn things around and enjoy myself. This is a short, but positive post - no negativity crap here today.

Without a second official job, I've been able to actually see people besides when they need to check out books. Yesterday, I (stupidly) volunteered to help Mike move all of the opera set and props to an off-campus location. Several others showed up and we managed to make a good time out of it. Shana and I discussed Tennessee as a possible grad school and Tony joined in for a discussion on choir aesthetics. I said "fuck" in front of everyone which made Mike almost drop to the ground laughing. Apparently, he isn't around me very much... And I get opera brownie points for this although what that translates to has yet to be discovered.

Tonight, I attended the Aeneid String Quartet's performance at Starlight Cafe. Krysta, Peggy and Grimes were there and we had a blast. All four of us are fairly witty people and that just makes it fun for me. I really hadn't met Grimes before although I'd seen him around campus, but I see why his students think he's awesome. Some of the other apartment complex regulars were there, but I didn't really get the chance to mingle with them very much. The restaurant was freakishly crowded for a Wednesday night. Good music, good friends and about 3 cups of hot tea made my night fabulous. And considering how expensive that cafe is, I only spent about $3 all night - my college-sized budget is happy.

Tomorrow is my rheumatology appointment. I go to confirm suspicions and regain control. I'm optimistic and grateful that the solution to my vocal problems (which haven't gone away) is something I can easily obtain and not career-destroying. The simple fact that I noticed this so early is a huge blessing. I know what to do and I'll be better in no time.

Good Riddance, Ledo's!

2006-07-20T11:26:00.000-04:00

The past week has been busy.

I quit Ledo's Pizza on Sunday. Yes, I've complained a lot about this job, but I was going to try to see it through until school started. My shift Saturday night changed my mind. There's one evening manager that annoyed me on a regular basis and decided to crank up the antics a notch or three. I was the focus of every joke that night and was chewed out in front of the customers. A few jokes here and there, I can take that in stride - I have a decent sense of humor after all. I despise mean-spirited jabs. Especially when they're accompanied by a fake smile or smirk. The chewing out occurred after I made a mistake on a pizza order - the first since I started working there. Actually, the customer (with little kid in tow) didn't care about the mistake. Ironically, I think the manager's behavior will keep that person from coming back with the coupon he received.

It was almost as if he were trying to get a rise out of me. I calmly continued my duties until the end of the night, knowing very well that if I tried to defend myself, I would say something nasty. Really nasty. After a phone call to my parents who couldn't seem to decide whether or not they were pleased or disappointed in me, I decided to go in the next day and speak my mind. Well, I had decided that about 2 hours into my shift, but I like to make decisions with a level head.

So, early Sunday evening I walked up to an empty restaurant. No, it was open, just empty. The younger manager was outside with the waitresses smoking and I asked to speak with him. He tried to get me to sit down in a booth to talk, but I refused. I wanted this to be short and to the point. I dropped a little plastic bag in front of him and began.

"I quit. Here is my shirt and my badge."

"May I ask why?"

"Sure. You can ask your father for more details, but I consider myself an intelligent young woman who doesn't like to be talked down to or ridiculed in front of other employees and customers. I'll be back to pick up my last paycheck or you can mail it to me. Your choice."

He seemed stunned that I quit, but that faded as soon as I mentioned his father. Apparently, I'm not the first one.

I still have to go pick up my paycheck today. I'm hoping it will be a simple run in and out deal. At least, I plan on making it that way. Then, I drive up to my parents' house to help my father with some office work. I'm not stupid, I'll need money at some point. As long as this doesn't get thrown into my face all weekend...

I also hoped that the general decrease in my stress level would have a gradual, positive impact on my voice. Nope, wrong again. As of today, I have not been able to sing an A above the staff for a week. For those of you non-singer people, this is bad. I usually can and need to sing well above that on a regular basis.

After trying everything I know, I emailed my teacher for a lesson which we had yesterday. Overall, my technique was fine, but my voice was breathy. That typically means there's swelling (not good), irritation (not good), or damage (not good). They can be caused by anything from allergies to immune disorders to air conditioning changes.

Take a wild guess what I think it is.

I've had some suspicion that my RA was slowly seeping its way back into my life, but its all been circumstancal evidence. Joint stiffness in the morning, but especially after I've worked out. Fatigue, but I've been working two jobs and teaching lessons. My knees hate my bicycle, but my tires could need air again. Everything could have an explanation other than arthritis. I think its about time I start keeping track - a doctor's visit may be in order.

Survey Says

2006-07-08T15:20:00.000-04:00

I promise that a real post is coming soon.

*TELL ME ABOUT YOURSELF - The Survey*
Name:	Sarah Paulette
Birthday:	November 13
Birthplace:	Norfolk
Current Location:	in the middle of a whole lot of tobacco and cotton fields
Eye Color:	hazel? they change a lot
Hair Color:	brown
Height:	5 foot 2 inches
Right Handed or Left Handed:	ambidextrous although the left hand lost a few points in the arthritis war
Your Heritage:	very Italian with a little French, Irish and German mixed in
The Shoes You Wore Today:	sneakers
Your Weakness:	wouldn't you like to know
Your Fears:	didn't I just answer this?
Your Perfect Pizza:	I'm not picky, just not disgustingly greasy
Goal You Would Like To Achieve This Year:	um....graduate?
Your Most Overused Phrase On an instant messenger:	I don't think I use it enough to overuse a phrase - maybe Hey! how are you?
Thoughts First Waking Up:	fuck, I have to work at @@@@ again
Your Best Physical Feature:	eyes
Your Bedtime:	when rehearsal is over
Your Most Missed Memory:	but if I missed it, how can it be a memory?
Pepsi or Coke:	is there a difference?
MacDonalds or Burger King:	::remembers the bone she found in the chicken:: Neither!
Single or Group Dates:	both
Lipton Ice Tea or Nestea:	neither, I like the real, brew-it-yourself tea especially white, rooibos, and peppermint
Chocolate or Vanilla:	as long as its sweet
Cappuccino or Coffee:	tiramisu
Do you Smoke:	nope
Do you Swear:	::laughs::
Do you Sing:	I try
Do you Shower Daily:	yup
Have you Been in Love:	I thought I was a few times - but I guess the answer's no
Do you want to go to College:	I want to get out
Do you want to get Married:	sure, if I can find a straight, mildly intelligent guy without a girlfriend
Do you belive in yourself:	that's what I tell myself
Do you get Motion Sickness:	not unless I'm reading in the car
Do you think you are Attractive:	not when I played the crazy lady in Crucible - I think I looked scary
Are you a Health Freak:	as a singer, I would answer yes, but I would be lying
Do you get along with your Parents:	sometimes
Do you like Thunderstorms:	very much
Do you play an Instrument:	I sing and play the piano - there's a whole bunch of others I had to learn, but sucked at
In the past month have you Drank Alcohol:	yes
In the past month have you Smoked:	nope
*In the past month have you been on Drugs:*
In the past month have you gone on a Date:	I don't think the lunches with gay/ taken men count
In the past month have you gone to a Mall:	yes
In the past month have you eaten a box of Oreos:	I actually don't like Oreos, blasphemy, I know
In the past month have you eaten Sushi:	I don't think so
In the past month have you been on Stage:	would have liked to have been
In the past month have you been Dumped:	this is the great thing about being single
In the past month have you gone Skinny Dipping:	nope
In the past month have you Stolen Anything:	the show? maybe
Ever been Drunk:	no although I've been told that large quantities of caffinee work just as well for me
Ever been called a Tease:	not to my face
Ever been Beaten up:	not physically
Ever Shoplifted:	wanted to? yes - actually do it? no
How do you want to Die:	differently than all the stereotypical ways I do on stage
What do you want to be when you Grow Up:	an opera singer would be nice
What country would you most like to Visit:	anywhere but here
*In a Boy/Girl..*
Favourite Eye Color:	as long as they're looking at my face
Favourite Hair Color:	clean
Short or Long Hair:	if I can see you're face, you're ok
Height:	taller than me
Weight:	healthy
Best Clothing Style:	for me? or is this still about the boy?
Number of Drugs I have taken:	lots - legally, of course
Number of CDs I own:	I lost track a long time ago
Number of Piercings:	3 in my ears
Number of Tattoos:	I had temporary tattoos as a kid
Number of things in my Past I Regret:	fuck
CREATE YOUR OWN! - or - GET PAID TO TAKE SURVEYS!

We Put the Fun in Funeral!

2006-06-27T22:48:00.000-04:00

Considering how sleep deprived I am, I'm going to try to complete this post in 15 minutes.

Several recent events have kept me from updating for the past week or so. Let me be brief:

1. Job craziness

I bolted my way across town to the Olive Garden praying for a successful interview and new job. To my dismay, the interviewer was absent, so I have to reschedule. The hostess did put little stars next to my name for showing up though.

As far as the pizza joint is concerned, I've about had it. The latest problem involves the drawer. Well, its an old problem that has gotten worse. Everyone else can ring on my drawer, so when it was off by $9 last week, it was my fault. Four dollars came from my pocket, while one waitress made up some excuse about wrong change and added $5 from her tips. She swears that she didn't know where it came from... My friends who work in other food service industries have informed me that my suspicion that this way of balancing the drawer is illegal was correct. Nice tidbit of information, but I can't do a fucking thing about it. Besides, I'm trying to get another job.

I just finished reading The Devil Wears Prada and I have to say I'm grateful that my job isn't as bad as Andrea's.

2. Funeral craziness

My grandfather died last week. Not that it was completely unexpected, but I was under the impression that he'd hold out a little while longer. The phone call was received late Monday night (I was already in bed) and I left Tuesday evening. We thought that we would - at latest - be leaving Wednesday night for a Thursday viewing and Friday funeral in Maryland. Try Friday instead. So I got to call both jobs and explain that I would not return until a full week after I left. Oh, and I leave again for a wedding on Thursday night and don't return 'til July 5th. I was kinda hoping that the pizza joint would fire me, but unfortunately they have me on the schedule for tomorrow.

There was a viewing on both Saturday and Sunday for a total of 6 hours. Granted, this setup was far better than the 4 viewings that my grandmother desired and was reluctantly talked out-of. The funeral was Monday morning because although my grandfather had passed early the week before, the cemetery could not accommodate us until then. My father grumbled something about union workers not coming on the weekends. Ok, I'm all for workers' rights, but a cemetery that doesn't do funerals on the weekends??

Other than everyone I met that apparently knew me as a 3 year old telling me that I looked 16, the funeral events went smoothly. It was the family that fried my nerves. As my cousin told me in the limo heading toward the cemetery, "We put the FUN in Funeral!"

3. Generalized family craziness

Mom decided that with Amy's wedding just around the corner, that I apparently needed dating advice. I don't apply enough make-up or wear heels with my blue jeans or act prissy around the boys. Ummm.....What happened to finding someone who liked me for well, me?

Before the first viewing, my mother burst into the hotel Chris and I were sharing and declared that she would be applying my make-up for the evening. After a few minutes of arguing, I let her paint. But I wasn't quiet about it, especially when she put on so much mascara that it appeared more appropriate for the stage. She allowed me to clean it up a little and left. I attempted to wash it off, but the damn stuff had dried already. It took a good 10 minutes to get clean and re-apply MY way.

Since the hotel was directly across from a mile long mall, we did go shopping. In the process of buying shoes, I was asked if I normally wear sneakers with my jeans. I responded in the affirmative while specifying that special occasions warranted an exception. Apparently and according to my mother, this is what makes me appear young - not the fact that my mother's entire side is full of women who look 5 - 10 years younger than what they are. She asked me why I did this and I informed her of my need to move in ways that heels were usually a hindrance. I run, dance and generally goof-off. I've even been known to rough-house with the boys, but she didn't need to know that, so I omitted that. To this new revelation, she asked me if some of the other girls wore heels.

"Yes." Where is she going with this? I wondered.

"Do they play around like you do?"

"Occasionally. Some more than others. Some girls are just wussy," I teased.

"Well, do these other girls all have boyfriends?"

Yeesh. So that's what she was digging at. I managed to control my tongue and answer diplomatically. Several other similar instances involving my flirting techniques, future boyfriend, husband and/ or children crept up throughout the weekend. There's no need to repeat them here. Just understand that I was temporarily annoyed and then, let it go.

Chris managed to contract both an ear infection and a stomach virus about Sunday morning. The virus exposed itself outside the second viewing under a tree. Two days and a phone call to me later, the doctor has declared him contagious. No one else has showed symptoms, but all expect the immuno-suppressed sister to be the next fly to fall.

You've got to love the optimism in this family.

So far I feel fine, but I have a strong feeling that Chris is rundown from basketball camp, hours of car rides between 3 states and the funeral. A few days of good rest will fix him.

Ok, so brevity didn't happen tonight. Oh, well. Goodnight all!

Sorry, I've Just Hallucinated. Could You Repeat That?

2006-06-11T19:25:00.000-04:00

I'm happy to report that my brother's graduation went well. He even received an academic award. My grandfather got bored halfway through and decided to start commenting on everything happening around him. My mother eventually stepped in and shushed him. Joey and I struggled to maintain our composure.

There was a dinner afterward, but it was run a little differently this year. Usually, the 7th graders are drafted into serving the graduates and their families at a sit-down meal in the cafeteria. Bread, salad, entree, desert -the works. This year.....not so much. Yes, the 7th graders ran around with appetizer, but the meal was buffet-style. This created a long line and grouchy people. On top of that, the graduates lacked a table of their own and were forced to sit with their families. In other words, they were up and down the entire time trying to eat and talk to their friends. The most annoying factor was the lack of seating organization. Now, I'm not a huge fan of seating charts - I think they're silly unless you know a certain combination is combustible. Actually, I still have Erica's seating chart from the choir formal...... Regardless of my propensity to steal seating charts before everyone knows where to sit, there need to be enough chairs in existence for the total number of butts attending. This flaw was remedied eventually by either the shuffling of folding chairs or removal of excess population. I'm going for population considering that all in our family except Chris and Mom left way early - and we weren't the only ones.

As for my parents, I'm still a bit stunned. Early in the day, they told me that we would have a discussion that evening covering my finances and job status. After my intestines untied themselves, I simply resolved to go to bed early before both parents returned home and avoid the situation entirely. Well, Mom was home earlier than I thought, so plan B kicked into action. I made a huge cup (pint?) of tea. At least then I could sip and think without seeming at a stupid loss for words.

Well, the moment came. And was surprisingly brief. We started somewhere around 11pm and ended about a half hour later. There was no shouting, no name-calling although I was the implied idiot again, but hey, that's old ammunition. The turning point came when my father tried to drudge up some old nonsense - I can't even really remember what it was except that it sounded exaggerated - Then, my mother spoke up and reminded him how they decided that they "weren't going to go there." Sipping my tea thoughtfully, I relaxed a bit, but not too much since I hadn't left the house yet. But I knew that it wasn't going to be as bad as a feared. My parents usually believe in the United Front Discipline System. My mother's interjection showed me that they weren't really in agreement on how to handle this.

God must have liked me that night.

The biggest surprise came when my father handed me a check for my summer apartment expenses.

Yes. You read that right. Read it again if that helps you. After all that mess about me paying my own way, they handed me a check. I was fully prepared to take care of myself. I want to take care of myself. There have been so many nights filled with sobbing and yelling and God only knows what hell I put my immune system through....

But I'm not stupid. I took the check.

This fact will probably be used against me in future arguments. At least I know in advance. I'm not sure what inspired this generosity, but I'm grateful as I can now save some money for next year. I try not to question too much. I'm a big believer in the whole guardian angel/ God looks out for you stuff they crammed into my head in Catholic elementary school. Maybe my parents have started to accept my adulthood and my choices.

My mother told me as she shoved as small, boxed tea infuser mug set into my hands the next morning, "I found this at half-price. I was too pissed off to spend too much on you." Well, maybe acceptance isn't the right word......

The Edge Followed Me

2006-06-07T00:02:00.000-04:00

I've been struggling to fight of bouts of sobbing all day. I called my mother this afternoon to get an update on my grandfather who has had yet another stroke. He's doing ok as of now, but its a "wait and see" kind of thing. My mother was supposed to call me last night, but failed to do so then and this morning. I called once and left a message with a brother who forgot to pass it on. So, I called again. After the update, my mother immediately bridged into Brother #3's middle school graduation tomorrow night. I am driving to my parents' house after I am done at the library and then to get my bridesmaid dress refitted. Some argument ensued because I could have sworn that someone would meet me at the dress shop with my shoes and the receipt. Apparently not. So, I called the library and had a friend fill in for my last hour. After the dress is taken care of, I am to change clothes and head on to the ceremony. I leave the next morning in order to arrive at the library in time for my 9am shift followed by my 4pm shift at Job #2.

Alas, this was not the end of the "discussion." Ironically, my parents would prefer that I take a day off instead of cramming my schedule. This is ironic because the next segment of parental wisdom advises me to work about 50 hours a week. Making things even more felicitous, there is a job available for me nearby my parents that will work me about those hours for $8 an hour. Did I mention that I have two jobs, piano students and a soon to be art income that I must simply drop in order to do this? Granted, I would be making more money than I do now, but I'd have to live with my parents - snowballs chance in hell. I would like to maintain my health and sanity this summer, thank you very much. But the money problem still remains.

So far, the jobs and piano students don't cover all my basic expenses - food, rent, utilities, etc. It comes close, but I will not be able to save anything for next year. So, here's where the art comes in. There's a few stores downtown that will sell not only my original artwork, but any other crafts I drop off as well. I understand this can be sketchy, but its worth a shot especially since I've just taken up making my own greeting cards. Nice, multilayered ones that most stores don't carry. This store doesn't and they'll also take my posters, etc from my online store. Might as well try.

As for trying, I've added Olive Garden to my list of applications. I have an interview, but its not until the 20th. My mother has a legitimate concern that no jobs will be available then. They did want to have me come tomorrow, but that's impossible as I'll be en route to another state. I will try to call them frequently to see if I can move my appointment up. I'm going to start spreading word that I'm willing to babysit too - a few of my professors have little ones and they know me well enough to trust me. I would have to figure out what to charge since I haven't done this sort of thing for money (family pays nothing) in years. Maybe I could Google that.....

This brings me to where the dirty fighting began today. I am driving myself crazy trying to support myself and my mother calls me an idiot. Flat out this time, not implied. I should pack up, come home, start my handpicked job and be grateful for such thoughtful parents. My mother went as far to say that they should have made me come home this summer. I make inept decisions and I will suffer for it next year - basically, I'm an idiot again. This went on for a while sticking to that same theme and was reviewed again after closing at Job #2. I should have ignored that call.

The worst part about this is that my brother's graduation is tomorrow. I can already sense how this is going to play out. Everyone will behave themselves until the festivities are done and then, I'll get corned in the kitchen or the den to "discuss" my job situation further. My father is already upset about my grandfather, so he'll fly off pretty quickly. Mom will follow shortly, since Dad put her in charge of dealing with me this summer. I'll be exhausted and jittery from all this today. Whether or not I can prevent a panic attack this time is what may be my downfall. Either way, I won't be able to "win" the argument.

I'm already frightened and for someone like me that's hard to acknowledge. This should be my brother's important day and it could be ruined basically by my presence. Yet, I have to go - I can't just skip his graduation. I would love to just drive back after the event, but its highly unlikely that this idea will be tolerated. I'm trapped.

On top of all this, I've become aware of a concept that I've refused to take seriously for a while. My parents don't like me. They haven't for a while now. They love me, but that's automatic. If I was their age and a friend of theirs, they probably wouldn't associate with me except when they needed help with something. I would probably be in that group that they talk about now.

Its getting harder and harder for me to brush off what they say to me. I've been chanting "I'm not an idiot" and "I deserve better than this" all day. It only makes the tears flow faster. What if they do try to force me back into their house? How to I refuse without telling them how I really feel? Its not like they'd sit back and listen, anyway. Hard work should pay off, but I just feel like I'm chasing my tail.

If anyone has any suggestions, I would be most appreciative. Words of encouragement are also welcomed. I need to sleep because its nearly 1am and work starts at 8am.

The Job Hunt Resumes

2006-05-31T14:46:00.000-04:00

Ok, this is going to be a quick post considering I have worked all morning and have to work again this afternoon. The second job I recently found sucks. This is my fourth day and the only reason I'm staying is for the paycheck. Should I find another job, I'm pretty certain I'd take it - within limits, before the jokes start flying. I won't name said job or any employees because, well, that's stupid until I find another job. Anyone can use the internet after all.

Grievances:

1. I've worked 2 weeks and I don't know my wages.
2. The tax forms I was given are from 2003.
3. I have to take written tests every so often which would be fine if they weren't blown off and open book. So, they're giving me busywork homework - Blah!
4. There is a 17 year old girl training me. This wouldn't come under this list if she knew how to train. She doesn't. My second night, she left early without telling me and let me close by myself.
5. The other waitresses are already talking behind my back.
6. The other waitresses are idiots because I can hear them talking behind my back.
7. Everybody else can ring on my drawer and its frequently off by the end of the night. I won't lose my job over it, but I'm the implied guilty one. Just so you know, at the last cashier job I had, my drawer was never off. Never. I think I hold a record there or something.
8. I don't know my schedule. Tonight's my last night on this schedule, but there's no new schedule up and I don't know when it will be up.
9. I've been told that once I'm done training that I will begin training other people. Um, somehow I don't think its wise to have a new person training another new person.
10. The food's not that great. Even worse, its supposed to be an Italian restaurant and I'm Italian. I could cook their menu better than they do.
11. Women are in the front and men are in the kitchen. One of my friends couldn't get an interview because there were no kitchen positions available. When he said that he had server experience, they told him that there were no kitchen positions available. On top of that, the kitchen staff get paid way more than the up front staff. The waitresses do get tips, but counter girls like me get minimum wage or slightly above it.......I don't know which I'm getting yet.
12. One of the managers is probably only a little older than me, but show's up with his pants ready to fall off and an untucked shirt. He walks around talking on his cell phone (which isn't allowed) and sends people on coffee runs. He is also the son of the owners.
13. I think he has a crush on me. I'm really uninterested.

Well, I'm sure I left something off the list, but I need to get ready for work. Tomorrow, I start following up on other applications and I few restaurants that I heard were hiring. Wish me luck!

Backing Away from the Edge

2006-05-23T14:20:00.000-04:00

Things have begun to improve for me. I have found a second job and acquired a few piano students to supplement my library income. With this assurance, my parents have decided to at least temporarily postpone further discussions about my summer plans. So, I'm not constantly on edge, but the effects of three weeks of living that way haven't faded yet.

My singing, for example, hasn't bounced back the way I was hoping it would. After about 30 minutes, my voice feels tired and the back of my neck is stiff. Usually, that's a good signal that you're doing something wrong. My problem has been that I can't tell the difference in my technique until the symptoms show up. Then, its typically too late for that session. My mission is to avoid damaging my voice and I know stress is the main culprit, but I can't seem to pin this one down. I don't feel stressed when I walk into the practice room, but I definitely do by the time I leave.

I want to try to get all my recital repertoire learned by the end of the summer. Add in about three opera roles to my already busy schedule and well, I need to find a way around this stress-is-killing-my-practice-time problem. I might need to go back to my theory that hot tea relaxes me. During my last opera stint, I brought a thermos of hot tea with me to every rehearsal and performance and it seemed to help with the tension. It seriously could be a placebo effect, but there are worse things than tea. And heck, the tea I drink contains massive anti-oxidants and no caffeine naturally. Finally, an addiction with health benefits...

Choir meets Video Games

2006-05-16T19:40:00.000-04:00

This website currently came to my attention through random searches during boredom. The University of Wisconsin has an a cappella ensemble known as Redefined whose recent performances include aNintendo Medley. The chorus is excellent on its own, but the staging is the one element that holds your attention.

I would post a video here, but alas, I'm not that computer savvy just yet. So, follow the link!

Nintendo Medley

I've also listed the pieces included in the medley below. I do owe credit elsewhere for this listing, but the internet being as it is, I don't know to whom.

Mario Bros. "Flag/Stage Clear"
Super Mario Bros. Main Theme
Dr. Mario
Mario Bros. 3
Mario Bros. "Star"
Tetris
Mortal Kombat
Mario Bros. "Dungeon"
The Legend of Zelda
Mario Bros. "Game Over"

Not Drowning

2006-05-07T19:08:00.000-04:00

You know thing are bad when your Google AdSense starts to display anti-suicide ads.

I haven't found a second job yet. This is particularly distressing because my parents have threatened to whisk me directly home in a week if I have no new employment. I think that's the absolutely last place I want to be right now. Well, maybe Iraq would be worse....

Its not like I haven't been trying to get another job. I've applied all sorts of other places, but with very little luck. (Please see Autonomy Wars IV for more information.) I went over to Hallmark to pick up a Mother's Day card and used that opportunity to gently suggest once again that I am very interested in their money. I was told that the manager who was in charge of hiring had been in very little and that if I did not receive a phone call in a week, that I should come in again. Waiting a week puts me exactly at my parents' deadline.

On top of this, I don't have enough students to balance this out yet. Tutoring will pick up when the semester starts, but piano is a bit sketchy in the summer. Summer 1 begins on May 16th, so its really close, but not close enough. I do have a new little student. He's 4 years old and had his first lesson today. He has no previous musical experience, but some of the things he did were better than some of the 8 year-olds I've taught. Ten minutes into his class, I had to improvise the lesson plan to accommodate him.

My main goal tonight is to somehow get a copy of my tax papers from my parents without tipping them off. Don't worry, they don't even know about this blog - I'm not that stupid. I think that I'll tell them I need it for the in-state residency people. Come to think of it, I probably do. I should be able to handle that, but I'm terrified about tomorrow.

I've never had to deal with the Financial Aid office. I don't know how to work these people. I have to manage to convince them that I should be allowed to file independently from my parents and get a loan to cover tuition. Keep in mind that I'm paying out-of-state until the residency people approve me. I love how I can work, live, register my car and pay taxes to this damn state, but not automatically qualify for resident tuition. Do tears effect these people? Or would it just harden them further against me?

After all that is handled, I get to go job hunting again. I know of a few places that I haven't forced my presence upon yet, although they fall into my parents' "Do Not Apply" category. I just need another fucking job. My stress has reached meltdown proportions and something has got to give here. Hopefully, it won't be my sanity. Well, what's left of it. Its gotten so bad that I left church early today because I couldn't keep my composure. I was doing ok until the Prayers of the Faithful announced the death of a former coworker of mine. Not that I knew him well or anything; its just startling. I lasted until the Communion hymn which happened to be one of my favorite songs and one which we sang at my grandmother's funeral. That did it. I said my post-Eucharistic prayers and skeedaddled with tears streaming. That song speaks to me on so many levels and it just overloaded my already taxed system. Here are some lyrics to give you an idea:

You Are Mine
I will come to you in the silence,
I will lift you from all your fear.
You will hear my voice,
I claim you as my choice,
Be still and know I am here.

I am hope for all who are hopeless,
I am eyes for all who long to see.
In the shadows of the night,
I will be your light,
Come and rest in me.

Refrain
Do not be afraid, I am with you.
I have called you each by name.
Come and follow me
I will bring you home;
I love you and you are mine.

I am strength for all the despairing,
Healing for the ones who dwell in shame
All the blind will see,
The lame will run free,
And all will know my name.

Refrain

I am the Word that leads all to freedom,
I am the peace the world cannot give.
I will call your name,
Embracing all your pain,
Stand up, now walk, and live!

Refrain

It has been suggested to me that I go receive counseling for all this mess. I went for maybe 2 sessions the last time something like this happened, but I panicked and stopped going. I know I need to do at least some little things to help myself here besides the aforementioned. My friend, Rai, had a chart to help her determine where she was on her anxiety scale - I'm in her red zone. That's part of the reason I'm spending so much time blogging these past few days. Blogging, drinking water, exercising and a clean apartment all mark the "green zone," so I have to try and do those things. At the moment, my apartment is clean but messy and I already tried to drown myself this week when I forgot to exhale through my nose during a flipturn. Luckily, the lifeguard got a kick out of it.

I'm trying to make sure I stay social too. Its hard with all the demands of work and financial aid visits, but I have time. My natural tendency is to pull inward and let no one see what's happening. I don't want to burden anyone, but a few friends know the situation and have listened to my rant and ramble. I seriously need to get them medals or really good Christmas presents or something. I also must go and practice - I haven't in at least a week. I mean, I tried, but crying kinda interferes with singing. Especially when you cry every time you try to sing.

Geez. I've been typing for about an hour. Off I go to wash clothes and drink some tea.

Autonomy Wars IV: A New Hope

2006-05-05T08:36:00.000-04:00

It has begun again. I knew it would strike again, but when or where was difficult to determine. Common side effects include: swollen eyes, screaming, fist clenching, headaches, dizziness, frequent need to rant and emotional numbness. In most patients, these symptoms were temporary and did not deter the patient from continuing to do exactly what they had done before. In fact, studies show that after 4 years, the typical patient had dealt with enough and decided to take matters into her own hands.

Another battle with my parents rages.

It all began a few nights ago when my mother called about my bridesmaid dress. Apparently, the dress my father picked up looks like it could fit 2 of me and requires severe alteration. Mom was not pleased for a few reasons:

This would be costly and they've already paid for the dress.
I'm not at my parent's house often and the alterations would take a few visits to accomplish. A scheduling crisis looms.
The dress tag read "6" instead of "2."
I must have measured myself wrong - according to my mother. Since I could not travel 2 states north to have measurements taken during the school year, I did it over the phone. I asked the seamstress very specific questions to avoid things like this. Granted, this was over 8 months ago and I couldn't recall exactly what the woman had said to relay it to my mother. I attempted to retake some of the measurements over the phone, but although the ones I took matched with what was on the dress, my mother still swears that I am wrong.

So, basically, this is all my fault. I have a few reasons of my own to think otherwise:

They wouldn't let me pay for the dress. I had written a check and stamped an envelope.
They haven't taken the dress out of the plastic to really look at it. I know from personal experience that a dress can look hideous on a hanger and beautiful on the body.
The dress tag was handwritten and it could have be a mistake or poorly written. I've played with this - you can make a 2 kinda look like a 6. Its hard, but it would be enough to panic my mother. Or, it could have been a 4. That seems a little more likely to me.
Most dresses are made about a size up when they're ordered that far in advance. You can't fix a dress that is too small.
I don't know how else one measures at the bellybutton. Now, I didn't pull the tape overly tight to get the smallest reading possible, but I have a pretty good idea from opera measurements that I'm not way off here. And I want to breathe. I'm hoping this can double as my next recital dress.
The dress will look long as the seamstress had no idea what shoes we were wearing. Hemming up a dress is the easiest alteration possible.
I told her I wore a size 2. I asked about a 1000 questions on measurements and such to avoid this argument. If its as wrong as my mother thinks, then its not my fault.

This "discussion" on my irresponsible tape measuring skills quickly bridged into other ways that I'm irresponsible and take advantage of my parents. I write "discussion" because I don't usually define the word "discussion" as a situation when one person literally yells over the phone to another, but my mother thinks the whole phone call was a "discussion." Whatever.

So, back to being irresponsible. I have yet to have found a second job. There are some strong possibilities including Hallmark and private teaching, but nothing is set in stone. I have been asking and applying since early March to no avail. My parents put boundaries around where I could apply including but not limited to no late night shifts, no "creepy" parking lots (um, take that as loosely as you feel) and it must enhance my nonexistent social life. Well, just fuck my chance of getting a job. I've ignored that policy and applied anywhere with a help wanted sign.

In case that method doesn't work, I've created flyers for tutoring and teaching piano. It takes far less students to make up for a 20 hour part-time job, so I figured this might be a good option. I think my mother's ok with this for the time being, but my father abhors the idea. Keep in mind, that to them, music is not a real job; its a job for married women whose husbands earn the real living. Their kids are in school and the mom is bored apparently. Every time I go or call home, my dad reminds me how fabulous I'd do in law. Yeah, not gonna happen.

My father will accept the teaching gig only if I get enough students and they've all signed contracts. Now, I'm not stupid - of course you create a payment contract so that you don't get screwed. Piano students are notorious for that. As far as numbers, I'm working on it, but I view this very opportunistically. The job that works out first will win. The trouble I'm having is that I already work one job and have to tell every possible employer that theirs will be my second. Very few have seemed pleased with that. And I have 2 weddings to attend and a few random doctor appointments. Not that I won't switch with someone, but its harder with two jobs.

The most promising situation at the moment is the Hallmark store. I applied about a week or so ago and had a good conversation with the manager there. I checked the status of my app yesterday and talked to a completely different manager. She said that they hadn't started going through anything yet, but they would pull mine out and look at it that day. I should expect a phone call.

The other related conflict is that I won't make as much money as my brother, Joey, does at Harris Teeter. I tried to explain to my parents that Joey has worked there for about 4 to 5 years and I'm starting new. I couldn't pull that same trick because the doctor wouldn't let me work for 2 years. My library wage will be raised in the fall, but probably not by much. Joey also doesn't live in the frat house over the summer and therefore, saves my parents on rent and such. His frat is part of student housing - he has that option. I would have to move out for 3 months and find a new apartment since mine wouldn't be there when I came back.

My parents do pay for a lot. They pay my tuition, rent and utilities. I've been taking on a bit more every year, but 2 years without work has done a number on my checking account. I've offered to get student loans to cover it all and that was rejected. In the last conversation, my mother threatened to confiscate my savings account. It doesn't have a whole lot in it, but I definitely need it for graduate auditions. That was the last straw. My savings since 2nd grade could be gone because they got mad at me. But I'm not supposed to apply for student loans to pay for anything - how am I to handle this???

I have a plan and I've enlisted several friends with financial aid wisdom to aid me. I'm going to the Financial Aid Office on Monday and applying for some type of loan. The trick is that I supposedly need my parents information which I've never had and they'll never give. That's why I've never been able to fill out a Fafsa form. I've heard that I might be able to file without them. I hope so. If not, I'll go to Bank of America. I already need to go there to see about transferring my savings account from the little church bank its in now. The loan shouldn't be as much as a burden since I should have instate residency in June. Tuition is much less expensive that way.

A few of these friends have literally kept me from emotional explosion the past few days. I have always felt like I was inadequate and incapable of taking this kind of step. Well, and a lot more than just that too. I'm fighting to overcome what was instilled in me. I can make good decisions for myself and follow through with them. I can do what I want to do without it making me feel like I'm some sort of selfish toddler. I am worthy of love and happiness. I have to re-evaluated myself and my place in this world to make it all happen.

So, say a prayer or five and feel free to leave any tips on the comments page. I've also set up a few Affiliate links from which I'll receive some sort of commission. I'm trying in every way I know how to prepare myself for the storm to come. The war is not over, but the turning point is coming...I can feel it this time.

I Hate Music!

2006-01-21T16:27:00.000-05:00

On January 22nd at 7pm, I presented my first solo recital ever. The process has been exhilerating and exasperating. Especially when I was supposed to have Christmas break to prepare.

Allow me to explain the irony of my situation over Christmas break. I am told that I must receive the seasonal all-healing drug of the gods: the flu shot. So, within about 24 hours of the highly praised injection, I begin to feel sluggish and fatigued. Keep in mind that I'm a very energetic person and slowing down physically or mentally has never been within my capabilities. In my usual manner, I continue to push through until the annual drive to visit my grandparents in Maryland.

We return home exhausted and I awake the next morning feeling 10 times worse than the previous day - which was pretty crappy to say so myself. My mistake was immediately stumbling down the stairs to take some sort of medicine. Due to some weird quirk of mine, I should not come in contact with any humans within the first 15-20 minutes of waking up sick lest I ball my eyes out. My mother is apparently ignorant of this rule and I should have known better than to enter into her vicinity in that state. Should have, but didn't.

My mother's internal radar quickly picks up the flustered signal of unwell young. I got the usual questions like " Are you feeling ok?" "What's wrong?" etc. There was about 5 seconds where I tried to answer like the adult I know I am and then broke down into sobs in spite of myself. Instead of sympathy or motherly tenderness, I recieved the equivelent to "Suck it up."

According to my mother who is an RN, I had flu symptoms from the flu shot. I consider this the flu, but apparently, the medical world doesn't. I say, if a shot containing a dead/weak form of a virus gives you the same symptoms it would have if it was a strong virus, then you still have the disease. The only exception being that you're not contagious because the shot is too weak for that. So, I called it the flu; my mother called me overly dramatic.

This "Flu-like phenomenom" created an issue - I had three songs left to learn and memorize. I hadn't even started these songs at all. Debussy songs. Panic began to set in. I drove myself crazy with never-ending listening sessions. Translations and IPA were drilled, but that only helps so much with learning an Impressionistic melody.

When I finally could phonate again, only about a week remained between me and my jury and about two weeks for my recital. My primary instinct was to pull the keyboardist-type marathon practice sessions in order to insure the success of those pieces. Any singer would tell you that this methodology is suicidal when applied to the human voice. Piano was my first instrument, so overpracticing is a habit I carried over to voice. Luckily, I was smart enough to know this and avoid suicide. But, the instinct is there and the resulting stress from going against instinct ranks up in the houndstooth level (I'll have to explain the Stressometer that Rai and I created at some point, consider houndstooth in the uppermost levels).

When my jury was over, the nail-biting part had been passed successfully. I chose to have Munden, Kramar and Smith as my jurers, creating a comfortable atmosphere for myself. To my delight, they only asked for two songs in addition to my offered aria and sent me on my merry way. I can't say that this wasn't considered when I began planning the members of my jury. These are not people who want to spend about 30 minutes listening to a recital and nit-picking at translations for a student they know is an overachieving nutcase. Being an overachieving nutcase has its advantages.

So then, my teacher and I began the "polishing" phase of recital preparation. Now, we had two different definitions of this final pre-performance time. He thought that I could learn to stand perfectly still, add expressive gestures, sing pianissimo and correct any minor diction and rhythm problems. My expectations weren't quite as high for my last week of practicing, but I managed to achieve all except standing still. What do you want - I'm Italian.

The marked day finally arrived. Most of my friends recommended spending the day watching TV, drinking water and studying a little bit. I, however, confiscated an old wobbly bookcase from the stairwell at the School of Music and proceeded to repair it. It was about two hours worth of hammering and cursing. Then, I reviewed my music and got Jamie to do my hair.

I like my way better.

With about thirty minutes before I was supposed to meet with my accompanist, I clicked my way up to a practice room to warm up. After warming up, I clacked back down three flights of stairs, around the construction fencing and straight into the mud before the recital hall. I had no other option with the mud. Apparently, the construction workers enlarging the SoM determined that a sidewalk could wait until Monday. Luckily, clear 3-inch heels are easy to clean.

Yes, I wore 3-inch heels and sang. And sang well, if I might say so myself. My recital flew by so quickly that it hardly seemed over when I thought we'd just begun. There were some made up words - some covered better than others. Between my friends and I, we discovered that every time I forgot something coincided exactly with the moments I deliberatly tried to stand still. Oh, the irony.

If you would like to listen to my recital, it is available online from the video my father shot. Its not the best quality and he did misspell sorority (we're a fraternity, thank you very much), but overall its an excellent job. Here's the link: http://homepage.mac.com/rolanddavis/sarah.html

Time For School To Go Away

2005-12-15T17:37:00.000-05:00

You Are Rudolph

Sweet and shy, you tend to be happiest when you're making someone else happy.

Why You're Naughty: You sometimes stick that nose where it doesn't belong

Why You're Nice: Christmas would be a sad affair without you!

Which of Santa's Reindeer Are You?

So, if we weren't aware of my need to be the center of attention and aspirations of fame, this might point it out. I'm not sure about the sticking my nose where it doesn't belong though. I consider myself pretty good at avoiding that........I will delete any comments suggesting otherwise.

My last exam was today. I love learning and being in school, but I'm so glad to finally get a break. As soon as the opera was over, my time was abducted by all the wonderful papers and assignments due within the last few days of classes. Seriously, can the academic world please learn that assignments need to be due at different points during the semester?

Probably not.

Well, since our classes will be officially at the end of this week, Fred and Tony have decided to throw a "Time for School to Go Away"/ Christmas party. It should be a lot of fun, but I'm a bit concerned about getting lost driving to that end of town.

Well, at least there is less to cook this year.

2005-11-30T14:38:00.000-05:00

I was a bit disappointed with our Thanksgiving festivities this year. The day began with The Macy’s parade on television while we cleaned the entirety of the house. The family was not expected to arrive until about 5:30pm - but they were not coming for dinner, just desert. They all had their own Thanksgiving dinners at their own houses.

This is what upset me. We have always had Thanksgiving dinner together in one house. Yes, I know it sounds crazy with the number of relatives I have, but we’ve never had too much trouble with it. In fact, I love getting everyone together like that, but I’m aware that this is not always possible. I just wish I knew in advance instead of gaining this tidbit of news hours before the aforementioned event. Actually, my mother didn’t know about all this until maybe two days before Thanksgiving and she wasn’t too thrilled either.

I can’t understand why everyone waited until the last possible moment to decide that they were going to split up Thanksgiving Dinner. Granted, it was less food for us to cook, but waiting that long can screw up your planning.

And it puts me in a small room with my immediate family for about an hour - believe me, it seems much, much longer especially when your accused of wringing your hands too much (I was cold), being overly sullen (Joey), etc. I have to say that it definitely wasn’t as torturous as previous years when we went around the table and listed everything we were thankful for. Typically, we would “forget” something and Mom would obligingly fill in the blanks.

Extended family members began to trickle in at about 6pm. Aunt Kathy didn’t make it there 'til about 7:30pm. This is mainly due to the general Langlois/ Annunziata belief that appointment times are merely suggestions to be modified at one’s convenience. And we have our own clock apparently...

What did strike me about the night was my ability to get stuck with all the little children the entire evening. Alyssa glued herself to my hip and Jack wanted to play the piano. I mind neither situation - its just when I cannot visit with the adults I begin to become irritated. Basically, I spent most of the time in the Sunroom with the doors shut - something my father insisted on. I did manage to escape when people started to leave. So, I did get a little time with my aunts, but only so much.

I think my mother needs to insist upon better planning for Christmas, so we don’t end up with this mess again.

The Crucible

2005-11-23T11:33:00.000-05:00

Well, the Opera is finally over and truthfully, I will miss it although I need the break. Full-time school and 2 weeks of production hell do not mix. Not at all. Let me break down my life:

8 am - 1pm ish : class
lunch
2pm - 4pm ish: class
4 ish - whenever the hell we got done: opera

Dinner was added in their somewhere as well as homework in any spare moments. Needless to say, my schedule was tight. And believe it or not, there were several people who still hold that I had free time available in there. Lets just say that these people wanted me to do stuff for them, so I suppose if they could convince me that I had time, they would get what they want. For the record - I’m not that stupid and people who treat me as such are idiotic themselves.

But, the Opera was a blast aside from the stress it caused. Playing a crazy woman was a wonderful stress relief. I think I simply channeled all my stress and frustration into my acting. We were all discussing one night whether or not I understand right from wrong. Probably not. My character has had 7 still births and when the only surviving child becomes ill, she sends the girl to conjure the spirits of her dead sisters to inform her of the identities of the Devil’s servants harming her. There isn’t a drop of sanity in that especially when you consider that she is a Puritan woman - so factor in all the religious implications of her actions.

And I do have to add how much I enjoyed working with Matt as my husband. It hasn’t been easy though. The first time he tried to comfort me, he accidentally smacked me over the back. Ms. Munden and I both expressed our doubt of that gesture falling into the “comforting” category. But, he has learned and so have I. By Tuesday night, we noticed how we were responding to each other without thinking or at least, looking like we were thinking - finally. Much rejoicing took place backstage after we sang...granted most of it was because Tuesday was the last night and we were going to party soon afterward.

And we did and I’ll drive to my parents’ house this afternoon for Thanksgiving.

Choral Festival 2005

2005-11-09T23:11:00.000-05:00

I am definitely going to try and write more often. Even if no one reads it, I get some enjoyment from it.

I’ve been stressed out. Yeah, I know. This is nothing new. Anyway, interpersonal relationships seem to be at the heart of it all. Roommates can be crazy as well as family members. Joe is on tour #2 of Iraq which always worries me. Don’t get me wrong, I support his decision completely, but that doesn’t mean I have to like or understand it. Maybe its my own fear of being shot and killed transferred onto him.....or maybe its the fact that he’s in an area where he could be shot and killed that makes this choice slightly bewildering to me.

The Crucible is in less than two weeks and the rehearsal/ set creation schedule is getting a bit ridiculous. Apparently, now we are painting the set Friday and Saturday, practically all day and I’ll bet all night. Not to mention, I have two other fraternity functions those evenings. So, Sunday will be my “homework day.” That’s exactly how I would like to spend my birthday - writing papers. Hopefully, all the work I’ve been doing this week will pay off and I can go to the Chamber Singers’ Concert that day. I might just go anyway to get out of my apartment and take a break. But Hams or anything afterward might not be an option.

The Choral Festival was today and we had to maintain control over 1500 high schoolers and their teachers and parents. Many prayers were recited prior to the event.

I started the day at 5:40am and managed to carry a cooler full of hot dogs to the music building before heading over to Wright by 7:30am. Doughnuts and coffee were distributed - I had my tea - and a choir arrived early. The scramble began. Almost everything was ready by that time, but we had no afternoon seating chart. Understand that we had to figure out how to fit 1500 choristers into the Auditorium in a neat and efficient way. Well, somehow the powers that be decided that this would be a task that came naturally to me. I accepted and spent about a half an hour (all the time available to me) counting seats and assigning choirs.

The test came at about 12:30. The choirs drifted in, one by one, and attempted to discern their seats. Luckily, we taped off each section with signs. Still, problems arose quickly. One large choir of about 200 students had trouble understanding that they needed to change locations from the morning session. That botched about 3 other choirs. Another choir discovered that although listed on our map, two of their assigned rows didn’t exist. Even though everyone was being seated in a timely fashion - thank God - the situation raised a few individual’s ire.

Want to take a guess who all this frustration was aimed at?

Need I tell you?

Yours truly. I handled it well, but I certainly didn’t appreciate the treatment I received especially from a particular person who shall remain unnamed. I just ignored the generalized stupidity thrown at me and continued to do my job as best I could.

I did have my moment of weakness though. The Festival had ended, the students sent to the buses, and we returned to 105 for pizza. I walked back alone focusing on the ill-fated seating chart. I just couldn’t understand where I had made a mistake. I still don’t, actually. I had been deprived of sleep, stressed and abused by stupid choral directors and the easiest thing to blame was the paper I was holding.

I sat on the floor and studied the map because I could feel myself giving in. Out of my peripheral vision, I noticed a small number of concert attired people encircle me. I kept my eyes down. I knew I would cry. Then, I felt a gentle hand shake my knee and a voice inform me that “only losers sit by themselves.” The hand belonged to Tony; the voice to Fred. Katy sat across from me and wanted to know if I was ok. Of course, I lied and of course, they knew better.

Against my will, tears snuck out and sprinted down my cheeks. I brushed them away roughly, but apparently they knew to have reinforcements ready and waiting. Trying to avoid embarrassment, I stood and turned away. Yet, these people did not leave - in fact, they closed in on me. They were willing to retrieve pizza if I didn’t want others to see my face. I wanted to get control and as always, do things myself. And I did shortly after but, I did allow for a considerable number of hugs.

I think I’ve found good friends in an area where I didn’t expect. The Chamber Singers/ ACDA group has always been kind to me, but there was always a dividing line as well. We didn’t hang out. We didn’t talk unless it was business related. Now, it seems like that line has been severely smudged. Even Bara has been treating me differently - to an extent.

I have found new friendships in Tony and Fred while deepening the ones with Katy and the others. Tony and Fred seem to have decided to look out for me and take every chance to tease me. Too bad both of them already have girlfriends (damn it, the good ones are always taken - or gay), but I am quite content with the brotherliness with which they view me.

Fun Times

2005-10-29T10:57:00.000-04:00

Costume Connections

So, Halloween is on Monday and I plan on dressing up as Hermione Granger. This decision was made for a few reasons.

1. I look like JKR’s description of Hermione. Bushy hair, large front teeth, bookwormish nature - the works

2. I have part of the costume from last year’s Kids’ Music program.

I ordered a wand off eBay and am patiently waiting for this to come since the seller assured me that I would have it in time for Halloween. A school uniform skirt is the only thing lacking at this point and I hope that Target or Wal-mart can solve that problem for me cheaply (secret reason 3).

I am in the process of recruiting others to disguise themselves with me. We can get stared at together. As of now, there are 2 witches (one HP and one traditional), one Tootsie Roll, a possible 70s chic, and one I forgot.

The Happy Heat Dance

Three days ago, my apartment finally received the influx of filtered warm air that was greatly missed for several days. Temperatures had plummeted down to the low 40s and my roommate and I had been unable to sleep. We had tried everything imaginable in an apartment lacking a fireplace, wood stove, or any safe place for a space heater. Needless to say, our options were limited, sleep deprivation was setting in and tensions were running high. Next came the homework that we were both too tired and too cold to attempt.

A call was quickly put in to our caretaker requesting when the heat would be switched on. I was aggravated but not unreasonable enough to ream him for something that he probably couldn’t control. I left a message and left for class. In-between choir and Romantic History, I decided that since my parents help me pay the rent, I should inform them about what is going on. My mother assured me that if I had not heard back from the caretaker after my classes that they would call.

Apparently, my father interpreted this situation differently and called the caretaker soon after he was informed about all this by my mother. I feel for the caretaker. I’m also convinced that my parents were lacking several important communication skills that day because I returned home to 5 missed cell phone calls and 4 emails. There were two basic messages about the boiler inspectors being late and the possibility of purchasing a space heater.

There was one message on our answering machine from our caretaker. He said that the boiler inspectors were expected that day and we should have heat for that evening. Well, considering Rebecca and I aren’t ever home during the day, it was evening already. So, I climbed upon a chair and placed my hand expectantly before the vent as Rebecca turned on the system. A soft rush of warm air flooded out.

“Is that warm air? Yes! Yes! We have heat!” I jumped down and we began cheering for the beauty of technology when it functions properly. I’m sure the boys below us were wondering what we were doing...

Dispelling the Myth

2005-09-24T21:51:00.000-04:00

There are times in life when people astound me. Sometimes because of their talent, courage, faith, kindness or ignorance. If you guessed which of those was recently demonstrated to me, you already know this is going to be one of those posts. Let me recount my tale...

It all began at my place of work, the library. Three of us were scheduled for that shift including myself, Nicky, and one non-music major trainee. We'll just call her "Jane Doe."

The shift began as usually with the reshelving of last night's books and scores, turning on computers, and chatting about nothing important. Somehow, our conversation drifted into our manager's well-known recount of her years as the sole music student of her class. The three of us musicians laughed and commented on our own experiences, the humorous and stressful alike. The topics ranged from theory to eartraining to ensembles. All the while, Miss Doe is following along, laughing, yet not totally comprehending.

Eventually, our manager returns to her desk, so Nicky and I continue the discussion. This was when Jane felt compelled to ask us a question, "So, ya'll actually got to work to be a music major?" Besides the lack of grammatical skills, the question was not one that we hadn't heard often. Therefore, we knew how to answer and patiently explained the massive amount of time, effort and skill it takes to be a professional musician. I illustrated the long hours Opera rehearsals entailed for the reward of one credit hour and the stress of juries, translations, diction and IPA. Nicky pointed out the difficulty of the educational instrument method classes, the Senior portfolio and student teaching.

Miss Doe, to her credit, listened quietly, analyzing all we had revealed in her head. I hoped we had converted one more "they do nothing of value" person over to our side. We awaited the next question.

Furrowing her brow, Jane simply replied, "So, ya'll got to actually play somethin' or sing to be a music major? I mean, 'cause I just thought you showed up and they taught you that."

Have you ever had that feeling of when you would love nothing more than to snatch the nearest encyclopedia and whack yourself into unconsciousness? I have.

Once Nicky and I had replaced our eyes into their sockets and disengaged from the stare we had been holding with each other, we attempted to expound upon our previous endeavor by describing the application process. I will not type out all the requirements for an audition. If you are that curious, google "music school" or "music conservatory," follow the links to a school and click on audition requirements. You'll quickly understand the talent and skill needed for this accomplishment.

By the end of two hours' traffic, Jane Doe, if not understood, appreciated the hard work and dedication involved in our chosen careers. One more person had been removed from the darkness of ignorance and walked into the light. Our job was completed. We buoyantly returned to shelving books and reiterating the proper usage of the copier.

A Time For Change

2005-09-23T10:50:00.000-04:00

As of right now, I can say that this year will be different than all others preceding it. We're only a few weeks in - how can I make that assumption already. Let's just say I have my reasons. For example, I'm a principle in the Opera and actually have to think in rehearsals rather than mindlessly drone "oh" and "ah." Stage has been a concept that I have yet to master. Luckily, our director is kind enough to silently point me in the right direction when I get too caught up in singing and forget to move. She realizes that I'll get it, but in the meantime, she's finding this rather humorous. I'm glad I'm brightening someone's day.

I'm organized. Consistently. I've even managed to create free time for my self! Hot tea and reading have become my nighttime ritual and I get enough sleep for once. My homework is done about a week in advance (well, only if I know about it for that long) and the marathon catch-up nights have ceased to exist - until the Opera Hell Week, of course. I work part-time, go to church, and exercise on a regular basis.

My voice studies have increased in difficulty about tenfold. This is because I am at the end of my technique in a way. Once I master this free singing and lower laryngeal position on my high stuff, everything else such as dynamics are a matter of application. Honestly, I'll never stop learning new things, but this is the last HUGE technique I have to learn - and it kicking my butt. My arias were chosen with the expressed intent of teaching this technique. Basically, if I can't sing it, I'm doing it wrong and I won't be able to sing them until I get it right. Ah, yes, my butt is being severely kicked in this process. Its only a matter of when I get this concept, not if. My obsessive-compulsive, overachieving nature will ensure that.

I shall not be walked over or taken advantage of anymore. This is a recent wake-up call since I thought I had already done this. It involved a friend in a class who plagiarized my answers when I wasn't looking. When I realized this, the said person continued on the grating path, following me until all every bit of research I did was in their possession. This particular situation was a minor one, so I'm not concerned - just annoyed at myself. I am determined to say something next time.

In order to end in a cheerful disposition, here is my quote of the day: "But Karen, you would probably have some sort of weird reaction or something - your boob would fall off or something." Thank you, Rochelle. Some quotes are much funnier in a British accent.

Ophelia boycotts Schubert

2005-09-14T10:42:00.000-04:00

First, let me apologize as its been obscenely too long since I've written. Here's a brief synopsis of my summer to this point:

~2 weddings and 1 more in the works for next summer. Family begins to talk about me as I am the next grandchild in line to wed - apparently?
~Read Half-Blood Prince in 3 days.
~Got my new driver's license after locking myself out of my apartment, driving 6 hours, and failing the first test.
~Broke up with my boyfriend and am blissfully single.
~Paid way too much for college textbooks.
~Rejoiced at my lack of classes filled with stupid people.
~Got sucked into Mugglenet.com. I'm still a first year, but I assure you that will soon change.

I think that's it besides the general practicing, arguing and waiting for school to commence.

Anyway, this post is dedicated to Hurricane Ophelia and her distaste of Schubert. Yesterday afternoon, an alert raced through the college email system that informed all of us that Wednesday classes would be canceled. Much to my Diction professor's dismay, I received this message in the middle of his lecture and announced it during a lull. He didn't seem to mind much except that he wondered out loud whether or not I was playing internet tetris during class. As I clarified, "I do not play internet tetris during your class." I purposely left room for interpretation.

The next email came from Professor Izzo containing the heading, "Italiophiles rejoice! Ophelia boycotts Schubert discussion."

Throughout the general scramble of rescheduled classes, lessons and tests, the Walmarts have filled with those preparing for a Category 1 hurricane. It is interesting to note that the storm so feared has only brought rain and mild winds as of this entry. I shall not complain because a day-off every now and again is not a terrible problem - I already have plenty of things to do. Anyone up for a hurricane party?

3..2..1..Midnight at Barnes & Noble

2005-07-16T10:16:00.000-04:00

Late Friday evening, Matthew and I decided to take a drive to the local Barnes & Noble to investigate the line of Potterites standing outside. Not to our surprise, the store was packed to capacity and the lemmings curled themselves around the building. I have to say that I was supremely disappointed - At least the Star Wars people dress up.

That's right. A huge line of people waiting for the biggest event from the fantasy world in two years and not a single one in costume. Sure, there were a few in black dresses, but that doesn't count. No character ever walks around in a skimpy black dress. Most twelve year olds shouldn't be wandering around in skimpy black dresses.......but that's another post.

In spite of our letdown, we decided to circle the building a few times. Matthew is sixteen, so any excuse to drive is acceptable to him. We left when the police started to stare.

So, I wonder. Star Wars fans are usually groups of teenagers and adults dressed in full costume dueling each other. The line I observed consisted of mainly children and parents. Yes, I know Harry Potter is read by adults as well as children, but most of us decided either to wait or buy online. Anyway, one would think that a group of children would be more likely to parade around in Hogwarts attire, which looks halfway normal, than a group of SW adult fans would in Darth Vader, Jedi, and Slave Leia outfits. Personally, I find the whole experience more enjoyable when in costume, but, then again, I am a singer and therefore crave the attention.

Why weren't the children dressed up this year? We drove around for Book 5 and saw most of the patient readers in costume, talking and playing together. This year, hardly anyone seemed to be talking or even acknowledging each other. Did anyone else notice this in their area?

Our Prayers Are With You

2005-07-07T21:17:00.000-04:00

Movie Mayhem

2005-06-30T11:22:00.000-04:00

Yesterday, I participated in the filming of an independent movie. Granted, my only duties were to act like I was at a huge party while the leads acted out their lines. But for free food and drinks......I'm there. Not to mention my uncle's office is producing the film, so I do get to meet everyone and attempt to keep them sane. The sanity part would be the difficult part.

The final beach party shoot was to take place at a popular bayside restaraunt in the afternoon. Unfortunatly, rain set in and refused to give in to the prayer and pleas of all involved. The decision was made to edit the script and adapt the scene for a deck party. After numerous phone calls to area vendors, a suitable place was found with a covered deck and a waterside view. Brief celebrations ensued as that was the last day of production and the scene had to be completed.

I arrived a little before 5pm to aid in setup, directing other extras and general goofing off. The goofing off occured after setup with the two crew interns, director and assistant director. Apparently, the guy with the handheld camera and the guy purchasing extra props were late. So, we had time to kill. No visible damage was incurred by the restaraunt although the owner didn't seem to thrilled that his establishment was half-empty for over 2 hours.

Finally, everyone arrived and shooting could actually begin. I don't think I'm at liberty to revealed dialogue or the purpose of this particular scene......so keep your eyes open for Sweet Good Fortune! I'll be the one holding a Coke in a glass with a straw.

Simon of Space

2005-06-27T15:02:00.000-04:00

Simon of Space

I ramble about this site enough to warrant a whole entry to it. So, for all 1 of you who actually read this blog, check out this site too.

Simon aka Cheeseburger Brown masterfully recounts each day's activity through his tiny plastic diary. He is the first person to lose his memory while traveling through a hyperspatial gate and has spent the first 5 weeks of his new life in the brain trauma ward of the hospital. When threatened with a mandatory return to his foreign home and unfamiliar family, Simon panics and escapes into the journey of a lifetime.

Cheeseburger Brown, otherwise known as Matthew Frederick Davis Hemming, has an addictively intoxicating writing style that is filled with humor, intrigue, adventure and pieces of the human soul. He is also the author of I Am A Cheeseburger, The Darth Side: Memoirs of a Monster, and 17 Drawings.

Welcome home! Now, take them back.

2005-06-10T09:18:00.000-04:00

The parental units have returned and I gladly resign my post as interim-parent. These past few days were not terrible by any means, but sleep deprivation has kicked in with an angst-filled vengeance. I concede that parenting is a difficult job, although the challenges with this particular example formed around the basis that I am not the kids' parent. Rule enforcement and delegation are nearly impossible without the divine right of real parents. Especially if you are their sister.

I've learned to love delegation through the years and thought it would be the simplest way to accomplish all the tasks and chores by the prescribed reintroduction. I still believe that I am right, but no one else agreed. It was the unspoken dissent that destroyed my sleep. The possibility of the house in shambles as my parents crossed the threshold was not something I desired as a reality. So, the laundry, dishes, and general cleaning were done by none other than me. The boys did mow the lawn which was a ploy to soften the parents by doing something unasked. Their plan only worked so well.....thanks were given, after which life continued as if the act never occurred.

Mom has not noticed or mentioned the cleanliness of the refrigerator. This confuses, angers, and relieves me. Confusion is a reaction to the obvious before/after visual difference, anger for the lack of appreciation, and relief at the avoidance of a long and drawn-out explanation of why it was necessary. She did however notice the handle missing. My sources have not confirmed how the top portion was broken off, but my bets are on a stray lightsaber blade.

With the return off the parents has come the return of their form of chaos. I awoke this morning to my father flashing my lights and informing me loudly that the air-conditioning repairman was on his way. I was forewarned that the repairman would need access to the attic, which is solely through my room, and would be arriving "early." "Early" did not have a definite time, but my father estimated last night about 8:30-9am. As I rolled over to alleviate the burning sensation in my retinas, I glanced at the large 7 glaring at me from the clock. Must the repairman come at 7am? And should he find that necessary, shouldn't he have the common decency to relay that information prior to the appointment? And if he should find the audacity to wake me early on my sleep deprivation extermination day, shouldn't I be allowed to strangle him?

But I digress.

I had just enough time to get dressed and make my bed before the invasion of my morning. I ate my breakfast while checking email and other blog updates. The dished were put away in the cabinets, dirty ones shoved in the washer, and the hound's water supply replenished.

The repairman arrived and spent 2 hours tinkering with the A/C unit. Apparently, it works better, but I haven't notice a difference in functionality. There was a distinct difference in the appearance of my carpet which was promptly vacuumed to eliminate the massive amounts of insulation tracked onto it. At least I have my room back....I'll let you know when the A/C unit explodes.

Stormy Weather

2005-06-07T00:21:00.000-04:00

Yesterday began with the buzzing of my alarm at 6:30am, a time with which I am not accustomed. Matthew was easy to wake; Christopher resisted a bit. Reinforcements arrived momentarily, climbed into bed, and whispered, "I love you" in a babyish voice.

"I hate you," smirked Chris as he pushed Joey off his bed. They groomed themselves and ate breakfast. It was a pleasant morning.

I arrived at work with my main purpose already having been designated as "John's perpetual reminder service." That doesn't guarantee that he actually accomplished anything on my To Do List for him. This just created a generalized edginess on my part for the possible blame that could be cast on me. So, I decided to read The Darth Side and Simon of Space for a while.

The rain began soon after lunch and worsened until torrents of water, thunder and lightning plagued the city. Personally, I enjoy a good storm every now and again, but this would easily wreak havoc during rush hour. The final crescendo and climax was felt by all around. Instinctively, I jerked my hands away from the computer keyboard as lightning struck something in the parking lot seconds later. The florescent lights blinked, the computers buzzed, and the floor shook. I froze in my seat. A few minutes later, the sky cleared as if by magical touch.

"You can't do that...I cut off your arm!" screamed Christopher as I returned home later that day.

"I have a robotic one!" replied Matthew as he swung his lightsaber toward his opponent’s head. Chris blocked and retaliated. I calmly strolled past, considering my newfound parental obligations. Deciding what had to be done, I raced upstairs to change my clothes. Comfortably clad in jeans, t-shirt, and a ponytail, I raced back to the kitchen.

"You know you're not supposed to be fighting in the house," I started. They dropped their guard just long enough for me to produce my lightsaber and commence a surprise-attack. Ironically, they're both Jedi Masters compared to my youngling skills. I died fairly quickly. Yet, this game is very similar to a video game: you die, you start over. I managed to beat Chris once, but I think I will have to become Matthew's padawan before I stand a real chance.

The night ended with laughter as Joey, Matt, and I watched Family Guy.

When the Cat's Away

2005-06-06T12:13:00.000-04:00

"Evil Dictator."

This is the sound of my siblings rebelling to my instructions. Never mind that I was simply the messenger of Mom.....I'm in charge for a little while, so apparently, the boys should be allowed to slack off and trash the place.

Overall, this job hasn't been too hard. Exhausting, but not exasperating. The challenge has been a matter of enforcement: I'm not Mom, so I can't do anything. If Chris pushes his luck too hard, then he'll learn to retract that statement.

On a non-sibling related tangent, I discovered the joys of cleaning a much-in-need refrigerator last night. Let's just say that my current headache is probably directly related to the amount of Clorox I inhaled. Needless to say, I'm only so focused at work....assuming that I'm actually doing something...

Positive note: Matt was in the paper this weekend. He's the sophomore valedictorian....we'll see if he keeps his position next year...Congrats, Matt!

Taking Charge

2005-06-04T23:38:00.000-04:00

I don't particularly understand what has happened to me this summer. I feel stifled, I guess. I just haven't really done anything creative or intellectually stimulating. The constant physical and emotional pull from my family probably claims much of the blame as well as my general fatigue from sleep deprivation. Funny how talking late on a cell phone effects one's sleep patterns....

All who know me well know that this situation can't last long without a loss of sanity (assuming its there to begin with). I can't practice for the opera like this either; it'll wear on my voice.....I know this from recent experience. So, I've determined that I must take action: force myself beyond all restraining influences. I need to paint, draw, sing, play, write. Speaking of writing, I am taking suggestions for a pen name....I'm terrible at stuff like that and my name is irritatingly generic. Or, I could just stick with "Sash".....

Anyway, I have to drive to the airport way too damn early in the morning, so I must end this now. Enjoy the rest of your weekend!

European flair

2005-06-02T19:36:00.000-04:00

So, I took all my old postcards from Europe and made a piece for my wall. The walls are bland and this is a rental-friendly way to fix things a bit. One, maybe two little nails tops. And I get to daydream about returning to all those places and others instead of doing homework.

Its been rainy and cold here all week. I'm used to 85 degree temperatures this time of year and the daily high has hovered around 65. What gives! Although, its probably a good thing since the AC at my parents' house has been malfunctioning. A have a theory: I kill most house plants (there is that unidentifiable one that's thriving) and AC systems. The AC in my apartment took its good ole time to kick in and my poor roommate about died of heat stroke. I was quite alright since I'm fairly immune to the summer heat....I still wear long jeans. Yet, I'm aware that the cosmic payback will be a bitch since I will freeze to death whenever I visit Jim way up north, probably in December at this rate........but that explaination would fill a whole other entry with its stupidity and aggravation.....

Deep Thoughts...

2005-06-01T11:08:00.000-04:00

I'm going to sing for a funeral today. Apparently, the church has 2, but I can only get off to sing one. They're both supposed to be huge with "standing room only." I have never heard that phrase in conjunction with a funeral. It makes you wonder about your own life....does a large mass of sobbing people make you a better person? I know these 2 were wonderful people, but still...would they be considered less if fewer came to their funeral?
One a completely different tangent, why does every available man or teenage boy flirt with you when you have a boyfriend? This phenomenon doesn't occur when you're single...wouldn't that help a little? Its just obnoxious now. Not that it would have been particularly welcome before, the sleezbags like to flirt with you all the time anyway...yet, the nice guys wait until the moment of certain rejection. Either way, I really don't care too much, I'm very happy with my boyfriend...I'm just amused by the amount of irony involved in this strategy...

Beach Day!!!

2005-05-30T12:21:00.000-04:00

We're all heading down to the beach for Memorial Day...too bad I didn't realize we were going until maybe 30 minutes ago. No one tells me anything. They all assume I know what's going on when I'm truly clueless. At least I'll get to see my week-old baby cousin, Julianne and Alyssa and Jack. The babies keep me entertained. Well, I should get ready to go.....

10 Rules For Dating My Daughter

2005-05-12T09:21:00.000-04:00

I finally found this list of rules on the internet. So far, I can't find out who actually wrote them, but, if anyone knows, please let me know. To whomever wrote this.....this is frickin' hysterical....good job!

Rule One
If you pull into my driveway and honk you'd better be delivering a package, because you're sure not picking anything up.

Rule Two
You do not touch my daughter in front of me. You may glance at her, so long as you do not peer at anything below her neck. If you cannot keep your eyes or hands off of my daughter's body, I will remove them.

Rule Three
I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys of your age to wear their trousers so loosely that they appear to be falling off their hips. Please don't take this as an insult, but you and all of your friends are complete idiots. Still, I want to be fair and open minded about this issue, so I propose this compromise: You may come to the door with your underwear showing and your pants ten sizes too big, and I will not object. However, In order to ensure that your clothes do not, in fact, come off during the course of your date with my daughter, I will take my electric nail gun and fasten your trousers securely in place to your waist.

Rule Four
I'm sure you've been told that in today's world, sex without utilizing a "barrier method" of some kind can kill you. Let me elaborate: when it comes to sex, I am the barrier, and I will kill you.

Rule Five
In order for us to get to know each other, we should talk about sports, politics, and other issues of the day. Please do not do this. The only information I require from you is an indication of when you expect to have my daughter safely back at my house, and the only word I need from you on this subject is "early."

Rule Six
I have no doubt you are a popular fellow, with many opportunities to date other girls. This is fine with me as long as it is okay with my daughter. Otherwise, once you have gone out with my little girl, you will continue to date no one but her until she is finished with you. If you make her cry, I will make you cry.

Rule Seven
As you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my daughter to appear, and more than an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want to be on time for the movie, you should not be dating. My daughter is putting on her makeup, a process that can take longer than painting the Golden Gate Bridge. Instead of just standing there, why don't you do something useful, like changing the oil in my car?

Rule Eight
The following places are not appropriate for a date with my daughter:

Places where there are beds, sofas, or anything softer than a wooden stool.
Places where there are no parents, policemen, or nuns within eyesight.
Places where there is darkness.
Places where there is dancing, holding hands, or happiness.
Places where the ambient temperature is warm enough to induce my daughter to wear shorts, tank tops, midriff T-shirts, or anything other than overalls, a sweater, and a goose down parka zipped up to her throat.
Movies with a strong romantic or sexual theme are to be avoided; movies which feature chainsaws are okay.
Hockey games are okay.
Old folks homes are better.

Rule Nine
Do not lie to me. I may appear to be a pot-bellied, balding, middle-aged, dim-witted has-been. But on issues relating to my daughter, I am the all-knowing, merciless god of your universe. If I ask you where you are going and with whom, you have one chance to tell me the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I have a shotgun, a shovel, and five acres behind the house. Do not trifle with me.

Rule Ten
Be afraid. Be very afraid. It takes very little for me to mistake the sound of your car in the driveway for a chopper coming in over a rice paddy outside of Hanoi. When my Agent Orange starts acting up, the voices in my head frequently tell me to clean the guns as I wait for you to bring my daughter home. As soon as you pull into the driveway you should exit your car with both hands in plain sight. Speak the perimeter password, announce in a clear voice that you have brought my daughter home safely and early, then return to your car - there is no need for you to come inside. The camouflaged face at the window is mine.

Vanity Sizes

2005-05-09T11:38:00.000-04:00

Have you ever wondered how clothing companies compete with each other? The first, most obvious way is to create a line of fun, flattering, and comfortable clothing. This method has been on its way out and I believe completely died in the 1970's Annie Hall craze. Clothes no longer need to match or even cover everything that truly should be covered. They don't need to be functional or comfortable as long as movie stars get one photograph printed in them. Don't believe me? Just take a stroll down the preteen aisle. You'll notice the ultra-low rise, worn-out looking, or barely-there type items. What has happened to our sense of style?

But, there has always been a single ray of hope: the blue jeans. Yes, there are drastically altered forms of the classic, but the basic set of jeans are modest, comfortable and flattering on most people. They are incredibly versital as work clothes, club outfits, casual Friday ensembles...the list goes on and on. How could the clothing company add frustration to this seemingly simple piece of cotton canvas?

Before I answer this question, please understand that I am a small person. I typically wear sizes ranging from 0 - 2 and those are already hard to find. One store in particular (we will not mention names) has created something called "vanity sizes." In this concept, someone who normally wears a size 10 can wear an 8 because the 10 is now labeled as an 8. This is done to make the shopper feel better about themselves, spend obscene amounts of money and return to the store.

This is the bane of my shopping experience. My sizes have now disappeared from the shelves. It wouldn't be so disgusting if it were just dresses and the like, but NO. The blue jeans are the items affected by the "America is generally overweight, so we'll boost their self-esteem to sell more stuff" mentality. What is wrong with people??? They will still be the same obeese people whether their jeans say size 100 or 98. Are we that lazy that we resort to sewing a new tag into clothing to raise the level of our self-esteem? And since when did size make us better people? I'm a short underweight Italian, but I work hard to sing and accomplish a 4.0 every semester. That makes me feel wonderful about myself.

I firmly believe our culture is based too heavily on appearance and social status and too little on life, individuality, and self-respect. To Hell with the brand-name blue jeans!!! I will buy my clothing in a store that does not lie to me about my size or resort to sewing them myself!!!

Speechless

2005-03-21T11:37:00.000-05:00

Yet again, I return from time spent at home sick. Not sick in the contagious, "you've caught something" sense, but in the "I can't sing" sense. This has happened three times this semester - enough is enough. I've had the same symptoms every time, so I decided to do my own investigating. As it turns out, there is mold in my bedroom window at my parents' house. It wasn't difficult to discover where it came from either. The last major hurricane cracked the double-paned window, allowing moisture to slowly creap in. This moisture created a "fogged" look to the window - one I had been complaining about since - and encouraged the growth of something reddish-brown in the base of the frame. Voila! the reason I get sick.

The hard part is that I can't sing....I'm a singer, this is a problem. A friend also told me not to talk because my speaking voice sounds fairly rough as well. Anyone who knows me knows that this is impossible.....I just figure I'll talk a lot less and speak softer to avoid extra damage. Wish me luck!

Human Annoyance

2005-03-13T15:47:00.000-05:00

There are people in this world that annoy me beyond the point of exasperation...don't get me wrong, these people do have redeeming qualities. Its just that they chose not to show them around me. Those that don't know when to shut up are my particular favorite. They nag you about something you said which, by the way, THEY took to the extreme no one else came near. And why? Because it makes them feel important and superior to you. Aren't there better ways to raise self-esteem while minding your own affairs? I'm sure there are because I do not consider myself one of these obnoxious people - I'm certain someone will contradict that statement. My reply would be, "Bugger off and get a life!"

On a brighter note, the opera went exceedingly well. Thank you to all who came and supported us. I did manage to trip at least once a performance, but luckily it was at the beginning of an entrance where few would notice. Go figure. Major kudos to Mrs. Shaw who filled in on practically no notice. Without you, we wouldn't have had a show (Don't worry, Erica, we all love you and get well soon - I'll keep shouting for you as long as it takes!) Great job cast! Enjoy the vacation - God knows we need it!

Plug For My Store

2005-02-12T17:24:00.000-05:00

Yes, I have my own store and this is a shameless plug for it. I create designs for mugs, journals, bumper stickers, greeting cards, etc. I also sell prints of my original artwork online. This is a continual work in progress and I add designs and items frequently. If you want me to design something especially for you, let me know. Check it out - if nothing else, it makes me feel important that people are looking at my site. Here's the address and feel free to leave comments:

http://www.cafepress.com/cachinnation

Classroom Stress

2005-02-09T09:43:00.000-05:00

Ever been in a class where you feel like you're the only intelligent person? I have...every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. This is getting to be too much to handle. I can see little bits of my brain dripping from my ears onto the floor. The pinnacle of today's class was this quote: "I guess my roommate isn't that good of a Catholic because she didn't wake up with ashes on her forehead this morning." Go ahead, laugh. Its real - every word. The worst part was that the class neither laughed or corrected her. Don't misunderstand me, I wish no one public humiliation....but there should have been some sort of reaction from the class. Yet, none came. Just the eerie silence of mutual understanding and acceptance. As a friend of mine later stated, "What did they think happens? The Ashes Fairy comes in the middle of the night, puts a cross on your forehead, and leaves a quarter under your pillow?" I determined, as the lone Catholic in the room, that the task of enlightening this young women fell to me. I told her very gently that most of us go to a Church service to receive our ashes - and that this event usually occurred noon or after. I have determined that this situation is what my hell would be like, giving me the motivation to strive to be better than I am.

No Pain, No Gain

2005-02-02T11:50:00.000-05:00

I will be the first to admit that I have hundreds of little quirks...ok, some aren't so little. Yet, I never realized that I don't stand up straight. How did I miss that??? This discovery, among others, came during my weekly vocal lesson. I have trouble releasing my jaw; I don't breathe quite as well as I should; I stand in a way that hampers all my other efforts. Murphy's law has struck again, but don't worry....this problem can be fixed and we attempted it in class. Let's just say that it involved me standing with my back and head against the wall with my feet out a little ways in front of me. And in the mirror, it looked normal....to me, it was incredibly painful. Why? Because I've done it wrong for over 20 years and my body doesn't want to change itself. Wish me luck 'cause I have to practice this.

For Rai...

2005-01-31T10:19:00.000-05:00

I had to put this act of human stupidity into writing. A few days ago, some redneck decided that it was a good idea to spit directly in front of me. Doesn't anyone else find this disgusting? I managed to avoid stepping into that visual representation of his intelligence, but a year or so back, my friend, Rai, wasn't so lucky. In fact, that incident caused to her to seriously damage her knee and use crutches for several months. The over-salivator didn't even stop to see if she was ok. Didn't your mother ever teach you not to expectorate in public? And if you decided to be that shameless, you should at least apologize for causing injury to another person. This is for you, Rai, that no more spit may cross your path!

Rai's sites:
http://www.snarkage.com
http://glittersavior.blogspot.com/

Tempest of the Mind

2005-01-29T17:55:00.000-05:00

The winds blow all around us. They shape us, pull us one way, push us another, and spin us until we don't understand where we are or where we were going. This chaotic whirlwind continues to confuse us until the day we get it right. On that day, the wind is at our backs, pushing us to who we really are and who we'll be. The path becomes clear to see and our purpose is found. But that day is not today. Today, the winds twist and swirl, obscuring my sight.

Damn You, Jack Frost

2005-01-24T10:40:00.000-05:00

What the hell is wrong with this weather? Its well below freezing outside and we've had precipitation, yet not the kind for which we have been longing and praying. These frigid temperatures have no other purpose than to provide snow...and kill mosquitos, but that's a another post. SO, WHERE IS THE SNOW?! My siblings got a school day for a measly 1/8 of an inch. I just want enough to close the university for a day. Then, Mother Nature can kick Jack Frost out and let things warm up. I don't care as long as it snows. Winter cold isn't complete without a little snow, so bring it on.

It's Such a Bad Idea to Give Me Free Web Space

2005-01-23T18:03:00.000-05:00

I've apparently lost my mind. What could convince me to spend time I don't have to write commentaries that probably no one will ever read? Its free. That blessed four-letter word can make almost anything enticing. Seriously, what did I have to lose...besides all respectibility and the illusion that I'm a quiet, sweet-natured young woman? I think what got me to this point was the simple fact that I write a lot. I scribble my thoughts in a journal, write rants on my yahoo notepad, talk ears off anyone naively willing to listen. Life can get stressful and I lack an effective way of expressing that daily frustration. Not to mention, I can drive everyone surrounding me completely insane. This seemed like a viable solution - and a awesome way to zone out in class. So, for now I close my very first post, my stepstone to the world of the computer savy. Welcome to my blog....God help us all.