Busy Times!

I have finally decided on a voice teacher!! Woo! I had my first lesson with her on Saturday. We didn't sing a stitch, but rather peeled through my book collection for potential pieces. It's still overwhelming to pick from 50, but it's a little less daunting than thousands. The question now, is how many, which language, variety or submersion and still figuring out which fits my fach. Too much! Do I go all French and immerse myself to really delve into French literature? Or do I have a variety of languages to get back in the groove of things? I'm like a kid in a candy store.

Yes, you're probably right, I should just do a variety of languages that I'm more familiar with to get my chricothyroid and cricoarytenoids stretched and strengthened. OK, so a variety it is... hmmm now back to the piles of books to decide which.

Oooo! And I got a fun new gadget for my lessons. I used to drag out the old tape cassettes to record my lesson, but what a pain that is! So, I recently invested in a mini-microphone that plugs into my iPod. So, now to I can save them on my computer and they're all digital and ready to go. I'm so excited! I love technology.

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.

Pure Evil

I have been a pumpkin carving machine. I carved a pumpkin last night that was tedious, but was satisfying because I didn't lop off a necessary chunk like I usually do. Here's the pumpkin that made my fingers feel like I was 94. I gotta up my Aleve all day strong all day long dosage.

Tonight I carved 3 pumpkins. My fingers are gnarled, but at least I still have all of them intact. Giant knives can be dangerous when carving a thick mass of vegetable.
No you have to imagine this next one with guts coming out of his head. Right now they're in a baggie in the fridge keeping nice and fresh and gooey until Halloween night.
All of these fit into our little pumpkin hunter/killer display on the front stoop.

Testing Testing 1-2-3

Is this thing on? Hellooo? I'm baaaack. I know, it's been a long time. Shame on me for not pondering more jerkwater (word of the day) topics for your enjo... er... read. I like to think this blog is mostly like warm milk. If you're up and in a spell of insomnia, tune into my blog and you'll be out in no time. I write because I do. Is it changing the world? Probably. Is it a stream of gabble-de-gook? Most definitely.

Now, let's see... what's happened since I blogged last? I have celebrated my 189th birthday. Jokes! It was my 213th. I got married, had a honeymoon, 2 more friends got engaged, got a rather severe burn from carving the pumpkin. Well, not from the carving part, the burn I think I might have had more to do with the lighter and match that were exploding with flames under it. Oh yes, and my first hair dryer went kaput. Girls, you know the one I'm talking about. The one that isn't that great, but you love it because it's survived 13 years of hair styles. And now I am using one about 1/8 of its size and a lot more powerful. Who knew they were inventing all these new and updated gadgets the last decade?

Well, I don't want to spoil all the fun all at once. I'm sure I'll be back.

O Little Town

I live in a beautiful city. It has extremely cute shops, restaurants, sights, a gondola and pretty much everything is antiqued and lovely. When we first moved out here, I was so excited because this is the city you come to every weekend in the summer to walk around and I have many fond memories of doing just that. Living here is another story. I still love it, and believe me, when the tourists leave (I won't get started on them, that's a whole 'nother post) I love spending time out and about in my town. The people that live here are extremely different than the people that visit here.

The people that visit clog up main street and eat at all the cute restaurants and go antiquing. The people that live here eat at Applebee's and shop at Wal-Mart. Not to say there is anything wrong with that. Now that I live here, I understand why and I find that a super Wal-Mart has a lot to offer. A lot of people that live here are down home folks that like to have a good time. Our first indication was that there were 3 stumps with a bunch of nails in them in the driveway of our new house. If you don't know what they were used for, you won't understand. It was just very classic for our city. Lots of drinking and partying and hanging out with all the other people who's entire family tree grew up here.

So I was driving home from work one day and I turn down a residential street and am looking around at the beautiful day when I see something so classic of our city, I laughed so hard I almost hit a lumberjack. Out in the driveway (not sure why everything is out front here) there are about 9 mis-matched folding lawn chairs of varying decomposition, from a few remaining plastic fibers on a tin frame to shredded and holey, all situated around an entirely rusted-over metal standing fire pit. I'm assuming that's what it was. It was burnt orange and basin-like. Or maybe it was the top of an old grill that got converted. Then the kicker that made this so classic of my town is the full-size refrigerator/freezer in the middle of the driveway. Not in the garage, in the center of the driveway. It was placed like another guest around the fire circle. Classic.

Wedding Bells

I got married this Saturday!! It was so much fun. The food was awesome and I couldn't have been more pleased with the reception venue. Huge props to the Saint Paul Hotel for being so flawless in taste, service, and dinner. I had a blast and it appeared that everyone else was in high spirits too. It was a good time had by all. The liquor flowed freely and so did the love.

It's funny to think that I now have this whole other side of family. I couldn't have asked for better people. But what do I call them? Uncle Buck? Hmmm. Well by joining families I now have the name of a famous British actress, so that's kind of fun. (Well, after all the paperwork is through.)

Now that it's all over, there is still much to do. I nearly cried when I faced the mountains of laundry that threatened to bury me alive. (On a side note, they should really correspond drying and washing time so that they're equal. It's a pain to have clean clothes that sit in the washer for an hour while the dryer is still drying.)

I feel like my brain is still recovering. About Thursday of last week I couldn't have told you my name because my head was so packed full of information. This week it still feels a little mushy, but at least I can tell you where I am and who I am at any given time.

I had so much fun seeing all of my friends and family who live so far away. But all of my new in-laws are in state, so I now have lots of family here. It reminds me that I need to see everyone more than just at weddings and funerals. They mean the world to me, and I should go out of my way to show it.

All's Well That Ends Well

The time has come to depart with my dearly beloved palm pilot. Not because it's failed any of its functions, but because of my leaky brain. With all the wedding planning and a new job and my increasing OCD and leaky brain, my little ZZ just hasn't been what I need. I've turned back to the old paper calendar. That way I can write little notes to myself, like my name and where I am and who my true friends are. Jokes! I have no friends. For scheduling and tasks and reminders, I would be all for Z, but I just can't hang on to him and my thoughts simultaneously. So, one of them has to go. It's like Harry Potters prophecy "neither can live while the other survives" and I figure I better give my memory a leg up, it needs all the help it can get!

*sigh*

Dear me, it's only Wednesday...

Drawn Out Departure

Man, it seems like I put my 2 weeks in about 4 years ago. The time will just not pass. I really have no urgent things to do.

I would give anything to put my head down and take a little snoozer. I don't want to end up with keyboard face though... or drool all over my desk. I guess I'll sit here and think of all the things I could be doing if I weren't here...

Morning Madness

As I sit here rocking myself and crying because my coffee is waaaay to hot to drink and I NEED it, I wonder, why? Why did I ask my new employer to bump up my start time to 7:30am? I'm not a morning person and I make no attempt to be so. Well, I will tell you why.

I think that my compulsive need to have the ideal time schedule to maximize my productiveness has taken over my desire to sleep. I thought about it in my head, and I knew there wasn't a chance in Peru that I would pull myself out of bed at 6am to work-out before work. But that's the time you get up now. Yes, but I also don't even make it out of bed by 6:10 on most days, and I have to be out the door at 6:20. (And I save 2 hours of commuting, a day! Weee!) And the only reason I don't cut it even closer is because coffee takes a few minutes to brew. So, there's a 100% chance that I won't get up earlier on my own free will to do something physically active. I know this. So, if I started work at 8, true I could get up at 7:30 (my new job is 2 miles from home), but do I really need to sleep in until 7:30? No. Sleep is for the weak and I give into it far too often. However, if I started work at 7:30 I would be home just after 4, and could then go for a run, or do errands and make calls because places are still open. Then by 5pm I could have my whole evening ahead of me. See? Do you see? I NEED that extra half hour switch or my whole world will be off kilter.

Ahhh the life of an obsessive compulsive person. Soothing, isn't it?

Job Jumper

I have FINALLY found a new job!! Yay hooray! My last day at my current place is the day before my birthday. Happy birthday to me! I'm very excited for this new position. I will be working as an office manager and training to be a paralegal. I think that it's a place I can really grow and affect the company directly in a lot of ways. It's exciting and I can't wait.

Being so anxious for this new job makes my last 2 weeks here really hard to focus. I just want to be as free as the wind blows.

I'm too ADD right now to sit here and write more, I must be off to do another victory dance!

???

The bus ride into work was pleasant. (Well, minus being hacked all over by someone who doesn't cover their mouth! But that's a different post.) I saw a family of beautiful deer. Their coats were so beautiful. Some day I would like to pet one. A live one, somehow a carcass just doesn't seem soft and warm. Man! It is hard to focus this early in the morning with only 2 cups of coffee in me. So, bear with me folks.

On my ride I saw a bumper sticker that perhaps my brain can't sort out this early, or I think the more plausible reason is that I just don't get it. So I write to you for an explanation. I've thought about it and it still doesn't make sense. And you think, hey it's a bumper sticker, who cares? Well, I don't care, but it's like trying to remember the name of a song and you just can't. It's going to eat away at me until I know. It was a green bumper sticker with white lettering that said: I HAVE A DOG AND I VOTE TOO.

Is it just a statement of truth? That they have a dog and also vote? Nah, I think there's something going on there, and I won't rest until I know. So help! What does it all mean?!

Size Does Matter

This Sunday was a shopping filled Sunday. Bri and I shopped till we dropped. (Although I'm sure I could have survived a few shoe departments more.) We finally got Brian's suit for the wedding. We start out wandering aimlessly around the suit department without a clue as to what or how to search for. It's a nice change from the usual sales people that pounce on you even before you have a chance to avoid their eye contact. However this time we actually needed the sharks. We were like lone fishes with an open wallet and need to purchase. I'm surprised they didn't smell us out sooner! So finally a very helpful competent sales woman comes to our rescue. Within a couple of minutes we decide on the suit to buy. Then after we get the jacket marked up for tailoring Bri and I set off to look for a dress shirt.

We're perusing the millions of tightly wrapped, folded and pinned shirts when I realize that all of the shirts have 3 size markings on them. Not only do they have a neck and sleeve size, they also have the general size. And the pants not only have the inseam, they have the waist. This is unbelievable. They size so meticulously for guys who most often than not would just walk in and grab a size and see if it fit. Whereas women's sizes they only come in one number. And that number varies between each cut, manufacturer, store, brand, style, and some times just because. the shoppers of the world are forced to agonize over their single number each time they try on an article of clothing. Hmmm I was an 8 at the other store and now I'm a 16? but the jeans I just bought were a 4. Hmmm. Something just seems amiss with this whole ordeal. Why can't women's pants come with the waist and the inseam? I never shop at certain stores unless I'm expecting a flood, because their inseams are always about 4 inches too short. I don't know a single female who can just walk in and find "her size" and bam! fits like a glove. (And if you're said woman, I hate you and I never want to talk to you.) I think that the pouring over the piles and piles of jeans and pants is what the retailers want. They want us to give up over trying every possible pant (women's and men's) until those one pair of pants finally fit. By then, who cares if they're $315? Surely not the blubbering woman. It's a scheme these denim devils should end. My 2 favorite pairs of jeans are starting to show their love, and it's time to get more, but I am NOT looking forward to that shopping trip. I will probably have to buy a few pairs of shoes to cheer me up.

Bah!

All's Well That Ends Well

Hummmm I am at peace with the wedding planning. I had a momentary weakness. Hummm All will be fine. Hummmm If I can't eat for a few months or year at least I will be able to fit into my "skinny clothes". Hummmm

Seriously, it's going to be fabulous and I'm so excited!! I will do damage control next week, but I have high hopes. It just needs a few snips and little cinching here and there, and we should be golden. However, that means no butler served canapes. Boo. :-( Well, I guess you can't have your 5 different kinds of cake and eat it too. Some thing's gotta give.

Whew! I feel a lot better now. Must be because it's Friday!

Wedding Woes

Man alive! are weddings expensive!! Looks like I won't be eating for the next 3 decades. Well, except for at the reception, but by then my stomach will have shrank so much that I'll be paying millions for a little soda cracker. I just received the "estimate" from my wedding planner for just the reception. And with that one little pdf file, *poof* over the entire wedding budget with just the reception costs. Eep! I'll post tomorrow about it if I live through the night with a heart rate of 312.

Crystal Confetti

We received our first 2 wedding gifts this week. Let me tell you, it is exciting stuff. I know that I registered for the things we got, but MAN is it fun to rip open the box and see them again. Maybe it's because I was delirious at the end of a better part of 9 hours because of "technical difficulty" to finally scan all the items, but I didn't really remember exactly what everything looked like. So, to see the things again, and to have them in my home was too much. (And just for the record, I haven't checked my registries online daily to see what I've received... although maybe I should start. Jokes! Surprises are better.) I think when I registered it was more like this is nice "BEEP", I could use this "BEEP", but I don't think that I ever really thought I was going to get these things. I was more concerned about if people were going to have a good time, or if the out-of-towners could make it. Now, they're giving me gifts? Somehow it doesn't seem right here. I invited them, shouldn't I be the one giving gifts? But, who am I to mess with tradition? That's right, nobody.

So as I'm digging through the packing peanuts, I come across an unwrapped box. So I was like woo! then as I'm taking it out of box, I hear the twinkling of glass. Oh no. I go to the kitchen and look inside and find shards of what I can only imagine was at one point a beautiful champagne flute. Yes friends, it was broken past the point of recognition.

I get on the phone to the Macy's wedding channel help line, and the most competent gal helps me through this emotionally trying time. I could not believe it. I didn't have to yell, I didn't have to threaten to take registry elsewhere, I didn't have to repeat myself 80 million times. She was competent, she spoke English (unlike AT&T), and she had customer service skills(unlike Comcast). I was too shocked to even speak. She was very apologetic that it happened, she was even sounded guilty that she requested I keep the broken flute until the replacement arrived. I haven't encountered this kind of hospitality since the homeless man. So hats off to the Macy's Wedding Channel for bringing their a-game.

It's sad that I am so astounded by decent service, but you'll agree that that's hard to find nowadays.

SUCK-er

Ah, these words never cease to entertain me!

succor \SUCK-er\ noun

*1 : relief; also : aid, help
2 : something that furnishes relief

Example sentence:
"The people lost all hope of succor, and fled to the mountains for refuge." (Mark Twain, A Tramp Abroad)

Did you know?
If you're in need of an explanation of the origins of "succor," we can help. Middle English speakers adapted "socour," the predecessor of "succor," from the Anglo-French "sucors," which essentially had the same meaning as our modern word. "Sucors," in turn, derives from the Medieval Latin "succursus," itself a derivative of the Latin verb "succurrere," meaning "to run to the rescue" or "to bring aid." That Latin verb was a composite of the prefix "sub-" (meaning "from below") and the verb "currere" (meaning "to run"). "Succor" has been saving the day in English (as both a noun and a verb) since at least the 13th century.

*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.

Blech

It's the grossest thing ever when people constantly do the snot snort. You know what I'm talking about. Not the little sniffles or the I-need-a-kleenex-stat sniff, I'm talking about the full blown snot-down-the-throat snort. Ish. I have the pleasure of sitting by someone at work who decided to replace regular nose breathing with snorting. Awesome.

Obsession

No, not the scent by Calvin Klein, my not so secret obsession.

Shopping. Online shopping. Clothes shopping. Shoooooooooe shopping. Antique shopping. (Although does anyone really know how to "go antiquing"? Most things look like they had every right to be given away in the first place.) Handbag shopping. Diamond shopping. Browsing. Perusing. And simply just walking or clicking around until you find something that maybe you could possibly use some time in your life (and then of course you have to find $100 more worth of crap for the free shipping). I LOVE IT!

I have been far to click and card swiping happy for my own good. I ordered a few new summer shirts to ring in the new season, but it wasn't quite enough. So, I browse around to look for some much needed tank tops (to wear under other shirts of course! I'm too old to parade around in just a tank top), well of course you have to get multiple colors and in my search I find a few pairs of shoes that I just HAVE to have. In my entire collection of shoes, I don't have a single pair that are brown satin with white polka dots... not until June 11th anyway. hehehe Likewise no green heeled sandals! How did I live until now?! But at least now I have shoes to match that new handbag I got a few days before. So after I resolved my tank and shoe issue I felt happy. Who says that retail therapy doesn't work?

After all is said and done I start to feel the itch. All I got were shoes and tanks... and maybe a shirt? Who can remember such things. So I'm off on another adventure on the rampage for some summer work shirts. So I picked out 4? 5? and now I'm poor but elated. Nothing like the feeling of a whole new wardrobe to bring in summer with a bang! Those of you who stand in front of filled closet of nothing to wear understand the satisfaction of bringing in the new. *sigh*

Tomorrow is diamond shopping with my mom. Look out world! I'm out there and lovin' every minute of it!!