Survey Says

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!

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?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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:

1. This would be costly and they've already paid for the dress.
2. I'm not at my parent's house often and the alterations would take a few visits to accomplish. A scheduling crisis looms.
3. The dress tag read "6" instead of "2."
4. 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:

1. They wouldn't let me pay for the dress. I had written a check and stamped an envelope.
2. 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.
3. 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.
4. 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.
5. 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.
6. 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.
7. 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!

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

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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