two months in...

November has arrived and I have not died, resigned, been committed, nor beaten a child yet; what could be better? I've learned more in the last two months as a teacher, than I have in the last 4 years as a student (ok, that's a complete lie...I'm using hyperbole to prove a point). And not in the "what they didn't teach you about teaching in teacher school" sense, but more so about myself. Specifically, how I learn and acquire information and adapt, that's where I've noticed the growth. I look forward with great excitement to grad school, either full time or part time, just to be a student again and try out some of this new-found 'me'. This, teaching rather than going right to grad school, is exactly when I knew was right for me...I knew I needed to understand myself better as a student before I could go on. The logical thing to do when one wants to understand their student behaviors to teach, right? (hmmm...)

Really, I'm very happy. I miss Crane and people there terribly. But I don't miss being is a gross, bitter music school grind. Even though not every single element is going as I might have hoped, the big picture is there and at least its fresh and exciting every day. (That's not to say that most days I don't drive to school thinking: "Good lord, can't I just not do this anymore?" But then I get there and have a good time. And I even think the kiddies are stating hate me less, so that's good.)

Last night was our second concert of the year, technically. It was A Night of Torch Songs. I had a great time. I accompanied many singers, and I think that element of my teaching (being at the keyboard) is not only coming along well, but it will be adequate and will improve. Lucky for me, our band director is quite an accomplished pianist, so for the time I can throw anything really tricky in her direction.

I wish I was singing more. Last weekend I started some new rep. and once I decide for sure what I'm going to work on I'll commit to learning that whole cycle. (I'm toying between Morike Lieder and Ruckert Lieder. We'll see.)

Getting a pay check on the 15th and 30th of every month is pretty sweet, too.

A new name; a new life (sorta)

Some of you may notice that my blog has a new name attached to it. Well, I was thinking of how much I enjoy blogging (obviously from my millions of posts) and how it might be fun to catalog a few moments of my early adult life in the form a blog. Surely I would need a new blog for such a task. But does that mean I throw my passed out? No way. Thus: old blog, new title!

I will, beginning September 4, 2007, be the new Choral Director for a school in the Southern Tier of NY. I'm totally pumped. The school has a long-standing tradition of music, particularly choral, excellence and I could not be coming in at a better time! The school seems well funded and supported administratively. I might have my dream job.

When I was in my apartment in Watervliet, NY during Student Teaching I saw an ad for a job that was everything I could have EVER hoped for and more. (The more being a hydraulic lift in the pit orchestra of the theatre!) I called Bernie over and said, "Hey, listen to this amazing job I'm not going to bother applying for." He couldn't believe his ears, yet told me I should apply for it. I did. I got it. I truly thought they had confused my résumé with someone else's!

Funny story there: There wee two names and two addresses for the job posting. One person to contact with questions and one to send the application materials to. I sent my materials to the wrong person, of course. So, the day after they went out I sent an email to him saying "Clearly, I'm an idiot and you don't want to hire me because I can't even put the right address on something, but in the event that you are interested, please forward my materials to personnel." He said he would. I was sure that was that. Guess not.

I plan to keep something of a log from here on out about the wonderful, the scary, the sad, and the exciting parts of living my dream!

EVERYONE suddenly burst out singing;
And I was filled with such delight
As prisoned birds must find in freedom,
Winging wildly across the white
Orchards and dark-green fields; on—on—and out of sight.

Everyone’s voice was suddenly lifted;
And beauty came like the setting sun:
My heart was shaken with tears; and horror
Drifted away ... O, but Everyone
Was a bird; and the song was wordless; the singing will never be done.

Strangely Unfamilar

I sit in the Commons at Crane quickly sending this out before heading to church. Coming back to Crane for these short weekend trips is so terribly odd. I rush in, rush to rehearse, and rush out. I'm seeing the building, the people, the campus in a way I never had before.

My recital is just over 4 weeks away. I think I'll make it. Things are looking up. I'm stressed, nevertheless.

I hope to keep writing more (why I say that bothers me because I hate when others say it...but really!, I do)...I feel better about my life when I write it down every now and then.

Terminal Cases

Wow, it's finally happening, I'm done with "classes." Just student teaching next semester and then it's time to jump into the new world. But, poor me, all the things I could have done better in the past three and half years, all the nights when I could have practiced 15 minutes more...but really, poor me, I've made all of these wonderful friendships that I must leave and be a whole 4 hours away from. Wow, my life sucks.

Growing up my mother and I had an unusually close relationship with an older couple, Ann and Wes Smithers. Ann used to teach English at the Academy and that is where my mom met her. When my parents separated, it was Ann and Wes that invited us into their home for nearly two months during that summer while we awaited a vacant apartment. For two months this couple, who could have been living up one of their few summers of retirement, opened their home up to near strangers because they felt it was the right thing to do. We ate dinner every night like a family and did all sorts of summer activities that one might do with a set of grandparents (something I was not lucky enough to have.) As the years went on, Ann and Wes remained close. We would always invite them to our big Christmas party, over for dinner, my graduation, etc.

Tuesday (12/5), after spending the weekend in Potsdam to see the annual Candlelight Concert, my mom emailed me with bad news: Wes had been diagnosed with Pancreatic Cancer and the prognosis was not good: only three-four weeks to live...just in time for Christmas. Saturday (12/2), Wes was sent home to spend his final time with his wife and family. Yesterday, less than ten days after his diagnosis, Wes died.

In the Christmas classic It's a Wonderful Life, an inscription appears below the photograph of Peter Bailey in his office at the Bailey Building and Loan that says: "All that we have is that with which we have given away." For Wes this was a way of life and was something that came as second nature to him...For someone who gave so much, it just doesn't seem right to have it all taken away, and to know that it is being taken away, so quickly before one gets to say any goodbyes or any last sentiments. Geez, what does this say about fate: Doesn't really matter how great you are because, as John Irving says, "In the world according to Garp, we are all terminal cases."

mysterious pasts.

The other day my mother was drinking [a lot] of wine when she launches into this story: "So, that one summer during college when I was dating that Canadian rugby player. Well, I don't know if I should say dating, it was just a summer thing...Something to keep me occupied." And it went on.

I nearly fell out of my chair.

My mother teaches home economics. Let's be serious...Dating a rugby player? A summer fling!? Further, I really thought that mom had shared most of her crazy stories with me. I mean, her and I lived alone together for like 15 years...We're close!

I was not upset that I hadn't heard this. Instead, I was refreshed. I was reminded that even your closest friend may have something that you don't know about and that you will probably, in all likelihood, never know everything about another being.

We all live elaborate lives* and I await, with much enthusiasm, discovering new and exciting bits of information about those who are close to me. (I think I'll start talking to my dad more...He did a lot of drugs...Must be some serious stories there!)


*I assure you there was no intended reference to Aida.

Summertime...and the livin' is (not) easy.

Frankly, I am ashamed that it has been so long since I updated. Let's recap...

So, once the end of March came it was, as Dr. Etezady put it, "a tobaggon ride into a brick wall." I could not believe how quickly the end of the semester went.

First off, I was pledging Ph Mu Alpha Sinfonia and that ended like the 3rd week of April...Just in tme for Opera Production week! The opera went really, really well. Aside from being balls-to-the-wall hilarious, the sets/costumes/special effects were great and everybody involved seemed to have a really great time. (Even the hockey players who were running the flies; they turned out to be pretty cool guys after all!)

Opera closed Sunday. I got sick Monday. Had my Russian Art Song recital Wednesday. Crane Chorus dress rehearsals all week long. Crane Chorus Saturday evening and then my recital Sunday afternoon. By 3pm Sunday I was DONE. I could have cared less about finals by that point. The 10 days that preceded had been insane! But, I lived through it, probably grew some, and everything went well, so I really can't complain. And, it felt REALLY good to have everything go away at once!

Summer came. I started waiting tables. Days started flying by. And now the summer is half over. I hate my job and on my days off I have to be a slave to my parents who bought a "fixer-upper" house. Suddenly I'm music major turned general contractor.

And that about covers it. I shall try to be more prompt and witty with my postings from here on out, but I just had to get this one out there to square things up!

An adventure is always more that you expect

All trips away from home are adventures, one can never be sure what will happen in any given adventure, that is what makes them fun. Saturday night I arrived back at SUNY Potsdam after almost a week of Touring with Choir with our final destination being the St. Thomas Cathedral in NYC for the ACDA (American Choral Directors Assoc.--The big dogs!) Eastern Division Conference. Our performance went spendidly and I have perhaps never been more proud to be apart of a choir as I was after our final release! We worked really hard and it paid off!

The trip, overall, went remarkably well. No fights. Nothing crazy. Just a good time. But of course there had to be a twist. After seen Sweeney Todd (AMAZING!!!) we ventured to Coldstone Creamery on 42nd street (next to the PJ Game) for some ice cream! Bernie and I were the last in line when he leaned over and said "Don't look now, but Harry Connick Jr. is right behind us." Indeed he was. What a nice treat. He was with his daughter (riding on his shoulders) so that was cute.

It's not like a HUGE deal, it wasn't as if Stephanie Blythe waltzed in Opera Rehearsal for crying out loud, that would just be amazing! (Tee Hee) But, it just made for a really nice unexpected twist. Really rounded out the trip.