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....
Saturday, March 10, 2007
Saturday, January 20, 2007
Habit-Formation 101: Day 8
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.
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
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!
Thursday, January 18, 2007
Habit-Formation 101: Day 6
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....
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....
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
Habit-Formation 101: Day 5
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.
*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.
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
Habit-Formation 101: Day 4
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.
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.
Monday, January 15, 2007
Habit-Formation 101: Day 3
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...............
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...............
Sunday, January 14, 2007
Habit-Formation 101: Day 2
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.
Saturday, January 13, 2007
Habit-Formation 101: Day 1
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.....
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.....
Thursday, December 28, 2006
Merry Whatever!
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!
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!
Monday, October 02, 2006
Anosmia
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..."
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..."
Monday, August 28, 2006
Princess Mia goes Broadway
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....
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....
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Alright Already!
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.
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.
Monday, July 31, 2006
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
Out and About
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.
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.
Thursday, July 20, 2006
Good Riddance, Ledo's!
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.
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.
Saturday, July 08, 2006
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
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!
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!
Sunday, June 11, 2006
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......
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......
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