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Yesterday could not have been more perfectly designed to annoy and discourage me. Church in the morning was only slightly ameliorated by the presence of a baby donkey named Louie. Then I went home with mama to find Eric had broken the glass in the door to the den. Reference to my upcoming preview (it's on Wednesday) reminded us of the need to refit my recital dress, so we spent a couple hours doing that and finding shoes to go with it (all from the closet, of course; shoe shopping would be the end of me). Tom seems to think mama is my enabler, but I'm not sure what it is when one is enabled to refrain from a destructive and addictive activity like shopping. He said I should dress my age and wear "something as pretty as I am", so we made the dress work, and then went bra shopping. Augh. So, that was excruciating, not only because it was in a store and required trying things on, but reminded me how much I hate my body (and this is not a self-esteem issue; yes, I could stand to lose about 50 pounds, but it's the gender I really can't stand). Finally we got back and life returned to a semblance of weekend normality as I finished rereading Eragon while my laundy dried. Decent book, decent laundry.
At least the evening improved. As I prepared to walk back to Shepherd, where my bike was, Gail asked to go on a walk with me. So she and the kids came, too. I'd known I was too late to get to Kris Becker's recital on time, but we stopped by Duncan and Gail convinced the kids it was something they wanted to see, so we went in at intermission (Ben was unusually charming) and I melted at the Ondine. They seemed to like it, and managed not to look like uncomfortable kids at a concert shuffling around and whispering, so cool. Wendy even figured out how to save her coughing for the loud bits.
The boys were watching TV when I got back, so I took the Eragon DVD into Stephan's room and suffered through the travesty. And this morning, Citron's gone, so we woke up hours late and didn't have to be anywhere till 11. There was much banter and eating of pie. Though Bryan's bike was stolen, which was upsetting.
I had two rehearsals with Ben today between the various classes, both of which went happily. I think we're going to make it to the preview. Chorale was excruciating. I nearly cried. I don't mind Bob as a coach or a rehearsal assistant, but running a choral rehearsal he's nearly worse than Charles. There's a way to suck all the life, spirit, and fun out of making music in an ensemble, and Bob's got it down. Complete with condescending remarks before he's told us, an ensemble that is at least half composed of non-major singers, how to do anything or what he wants in terms that are not jargon or even at all.
When I came back, Bryan asked if he could use one of my house's spare bikes, so we spent a while WD-40ing chains and changing wheels and gluing pedals, and now he has a ghetto Frankenstein bike no one will steal. he sort of maybe met in passing some of the relatives staying at my house, and was highly enamored of Hunter because he is a springer. It was a good time, even in the mosquitos and grease and superglue.
Now I have to do work. I am both looking forward to and dreading the end of the semester; it will be nice to have all that work over with, but I have to do it first, and it's all due around the end of school.
I think I can get Bryan to come to Mexico City with us after it's over. He only leaves in the middle of June, so he'll be here for ages after school's out, which should be fun.
Spastic mind: my idea for a facebook recital promotion involves that sketchy photo of me in a velvet minidress and a boafrom La Cage and the caption "Remember this? Now, the dress will be redder, the neckline will be lower, and the music will be... well, it'll be there." What do you think? Dan tells me the promise of my cleavage is a big draw, but I think he may be a little prejudiced. Plus, I'd like to think people would come to hear, rather than see me.
At least the evening improved. As I prepared to walk back to Shepherd, where my bike was, Gail asked to go on a walk with me. So she and the kids came, too. I'd known I was too late to get to Kris Becker's recital on time, but we stopped by Duncan and Gail convinced the kids it was something they wanted to see, so we went in at intermission (Ben was unusually charming) and I melted at the Ondine. They seemed to like it, and managed not to look like uncomfortable kids at a concert shuffling around and whispering, so cool. Wendy even figured out how to save her coughing for the loud bits.
The boys were watching TV when I got back, so I took the Eragon DVD into Stephan's room and suffered through the travesty. And this morning, Citron's gone, so we woke up hours late and didn't have to be anywhere till 11. There was much banter and eating of pie. Though Bryan's bike was stolen, which was upsetting.
I had two rehearsals with Ben today between the various classes, both of which went happily. I think we're going to make it to the preview. Chorale was excruciating. I nearly cried. I don't mind Bob as a coach or a rehearsal assistant, but running a choral rehearsal he's nearly worse than Charles. There's a way to suck all the life, spirit, and fun out of making music in an ensemble, and Bob's got it down. Complete with condescending remarks before he's told us, an ensemble that is at least half composed of non-major singers, how to do anything or what he wants in terms that are not jargon or even at all.
When I came back, Bryan asked if he could use one of my house's spare bikes, so we spent a while WD-40ing chains and changing wheels and gluing pedals, and now he has a ghetto Frankenstein bike no one will steal. he sort of maybe met in passing some of the relatives staying at my house, and was highly enamored of Hunter because he is a springer. It was a good time, even in the mosquitos and grease and superglue.
Now I have to do work. I am both looking forward to and dreading the end of the semester; it will be nice to have all that work over with, but I have to do it first, and it's all due around the end of school.
I think I can get Bryan to come to Mexico City with us after it's over. He only leaves in the middle of June, so he'll be here for ages after school's out, which should be fun.
Spastic mind: my idea for a facebook recital promotion involves that sketchy photo of me in a velvet minidress and a boafrom La Cage and the caption "Remember this? Now, the dress will be redder, the neckline will be lower, and the music will be... well, it'll be there." What do you think? Dan tells me the promise of my cleavage is a big draw, but I think he may be a little prejudiced. Plus, I'd like to think people would come to hear, rather than see me.
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Bra-buying does indeed suck on a cosmic scale.