This Is My Quest

... Only without the whole man of La Mancha part.

I am on a quest to find a new voice instructor. Now that life has settled down to a dull roar, I really am feeling the bug to get back to performing. I have thought about long and hard what I wanted to do. I have sung in choirs after college and have even applied for graduate school. At the end of last years' season, I really knew that I wanted to get back on the stage singing and dancing my little heart out. I guess I always knew it, but was more scared and lost about where to start.

I was fresh out of college and bright eyed and bushy tailed and had music in my heart. So I audition for the 2 heavy hitting choirs of MN. Woo! Got into both of them... of course that meant rehearsals over in Minneapolis at least 3 times a week, and when there were performances it was a non-stop commute-sing 'til your voice box drops right out on the floor-drive home at an ungodly hour-and get up and work. *repeat daily* I cut back here and there with one of the choirs and it seemed to be okay, and then the wedding planning was in full swing and my sanity was in limbo. So, last spring was my ending for a spell. Then this summer was filled with wedding planning and a new job. Now the honeymoon is over and life is peachy.

So the past couple of weeks I have contacted a few voice instructors. Now I'm in the midst of interviewing them. Then my goal will be to study and get into some auditions and get shot down 99% of the time, but hopefully get into an occasional something here and there. If I start studying now, I think I will bug the MN opera again. My past auditions have been horrible with them... well, I guess just one out of 2 was horrible. It was right after I graduated and I was bed ridden for about 5 days and felt like I had 83 heads and they were all congested. I pulled myself out of bed and showered for the first time in eons and trucked it over to my audition. Blech. I kept sniffling during the interludes and when I sang my head was so congested that it rang around in there and I wanted to grab my head and cry and nap on the floor. The second time I hadn't been studying, but I had been singing and I just wasn't ready. They also probably remembered my monstrous self from last year and thought I was Jekyll and Hyde. Or, probably more just like Hyde.

So off I go into the scary world of rejection, divas, divos, and long commutes. I'll keep you posted.

Morning Coffee

There's nothing else than a hot pot of coffee to wake you up. It just wouldn't be a good day unless I guzzled down at least 4 cups. Since I go through it at a mind blowing rate, I thought I better look into some cheap, but passable, coffee. So I came out of the grocery the other day with a drum of dark roast called Black Silk hoping to up my caffeine intake a bit.

So I'm sitting here, eyes half closed, listening to the lovely brewing sounds of my coffee with my mug of sugar in hand waiting for the coffee to stop. I'm looking forward to getting a nice pick me up by switching to a darker roast. It's finally done. As I pouring my beloved coffee, things are in a sudden chaotic state, I must have poured too fast, there's coffee spewing out all sides, and about half the pot ends up on my leg. Nothing wakes you up faster than 3rd degree coffee burns on your thigh in the morning. I nearly cried. Not because of the burns, but because of all the wasted coffee.