adancingstar

So some friends of mine are talking about taking me out and teaching me to drive so I can get my license really soon.  Robert is really excited about helping me procure a job, but the first step is getting the license and a car.  I'm really happy to have a nice guy like him in my life.  Too bad all the good ones are taken.  ):  

I finally admitted that I didn't even know if I was going for music.  I want to, but I started so late on the cello compared to everyone else.  "Don't worry about everybody else."  When he said it, it sounded so easy.  Like the fact all other successful music majors have been playing since...the womb, and I only got serious about it in sophomore year. 

If I want to do music, my only option is basically teaching.  And I'm not a people person, I'm really not.  I've been through high school once, I don't want to spend the rest of my life teaching uninspired teenagers there.  

I stumbled through the Haydn very, very slowly.  I've never played that much thumb position in one sitting...and it's my summer mission to build up a rock hard callous, as well as read treble clef more fluently.  Just this morning I've practiced some of the runs in the piece and burnt my thumb out. 

It's progress.  I'm so happy. 
 

The infamous sign.  XD



Rehearsal with the Phil orchestra. 



Part of our dressing room~!



Rehearsal with the Phil in TECHNICOLOR~~~~~!



We were setting up on stage at the beginning and I was looking up at all the lights.  XD



Setting up some more. 



Living the good life. 



My friend Julia and I.  



Showing off in our large dressing room.  :) 
 

That's it for now, dahlings. 
 

When we came back, he had written, "...both not cooler than me!" by our names on that sign.  XD  We laughed so hard.  Then we added, "are both WAY cooler than Mr. May!" on it.  It became this huge joke of the afternoon and the rest of the Phil musicians, who hang out in the green room down the hall from our dressing room, agreed that we ARE way cooler than he. 

Blah blah, rehearsal, nervousness.  The other concerto winners were violinists and a euphonium player, all hooked up with microphones while Christa and I were not.  I guess our instruments were considered loud enough?  The f-holes face the audience, I suppose.  Christa's nerves had her playing a little softer than she should have, but c'est la vie.  We're both just really freaking glad it's over. 

After rehearsal, we had a couple hours to ourselves before the concert began.  We primped, had our hair messed with, put on dresses.  About 20 minutes before showtime, we were warming up again, this time with the lights off and the door open, when our teacher walked by again.  He took out his cell phone to take pictures of us upon seeing that we were in formal attire.  After a slight girlish moment of, "NOOOO", he was assuring us that we sounded great, should have fun, the show would be awesome.  

The duet was terrifying!  It was then when I realized how close the audience is actually seated to the stage.  A teacher I know was seated right in front of me.  And this system of bowing is very confusing: a soloist goes out on stage, bows before playing, plays, bows, shakes hands with the conductor and concertmaster, bows again, takes instrument off stage, and then goes back on stage to bow again!  Christa and I both received bouquets during the last bow and several musicians made eye contact with me as I walked offstage for the last time and nodded with an approving smile.  

After that, we took our bouquets to the dressing room and went back to hang offstage until it was time for the full orchestra.  We wrote "LOSER" on a piece of paper and stuffed it in our teacher's cello case (which, amusingly enough, wasn't discovered by him until the very end of the concert, two hours later). 

At the very end, I was shuffling off stage and my teacher calls behind me in a sad voice, "I can't believe it's oveeeeeer!"  I grumbled in response, "I'm friggin' glad it's over!"  Then he was rambling about how this show had been a long one, blah blah blah, and THEN he noticed the LOSER sign, with an exclamation of, "NICE!" 

I went off to put my cello away and was joined by Christa a few minutes later.  "I asked Mr. May if he'd seen our message and he was like, 'Yeah.  Nice.  I'll get you guys back...'"  We giggled, started cleaning up the mess we'd made, and chatting about random things.  There was a loud rapping at the door.  We called out to come in.  No response.  Christa opened the door to see no one.  I noticed that the sign was missing and gasped.  

"HE TOOK IT!"  We both scanned the hallway and were heading toward the green room when our teacher stepped out from behind a corner with loud, evil laughter.  He gave me the sign back and I tucked it into my music bag.  Our families found us and took a bunch of pictures.  There was some more chatting up, almost went out for ice cream, but ended up going home. 

A very good night, if I do say so myself.  I need a freaking break!
 

I think I've cried enough tears, but all I can say to myself is that I didn't do anything.  It's not fair.  And all adults can come up with in response is, "It's not your fault, it's all his alcoholism and drugs and blablabla."

Goddamnit.  Goddamn beer, pot, any kind of drug.  I don't give a shit about how harmless they may or may not be, all I know is that they're fucking up my life and I never touch the shit. 

We're playing the Vivaldi Double in G minor.  Go YouTube it if you're not sure what it is, you uncultured swine.  (<3) 

I burnt my hand a bit yesterday, while checking on some corn, and I went to my mother like a crying child and said, "Mommy, Mommy, I burnt my hand!"  She gave me a disgruntled look and replied, "THEN PUT IT UNDER SOME COLD WATER!"  I half-expected her to end with, "God!" My older sister found this hilarious and we contemplated her nursing skills.  "'WHO SHAT IN THIS BEDPAN, GODDAMMIT!?!?!" 

I also watched Mamma Mia! last night.  My Colin Firth fix was temporarily sated.  Firth, you pasty, stony-faced bastard... 



Aside from that, it was a cute musical.  I enjoyed Meryl Streep's voice and was impressed by the younger talent.  Lol@ Bootstrap Bill being potential baby daddy

Adrian Grenier, you beautiful man, you.  Stop acting in stupid HBO shows and become the next housewife's heart throb already. 



*sigh*

This morning we came back to Naples.  He dropped us off at our mother's apartment, where she and my two sisters reside.  The rest of our family, including my aunts and cousins who are down to visit for the holidays, were at Borders.  Mom presented me with a new music stand, which I have been needing DESPERATELY.  We waited for the others to finish their excursion.  A couple hours later, I was home.  The rest of my presents were more knick knacks I don't need.  

I know that I'm a terrible person.  I don't ask for anything for Christmas and then when I don't get anything, I make myself miserable.  Plus, my family was really, really broke this year.  I bummed myself out when taking note that my cousin received a Borders giftcard, a new DVD player, and Guitar Hero 3 while my little sister and I received paltry shit in comparison.  It's not even myself -- I wish the best for my sister.  I wish she'd gotten so much more shit this year.  I wish there were piles of gifts under the tree with her name on it this year.  But there wasn't.  A lot of the gifts weren't even wrapped.

And you know, that's just shitty parenting.  If the adults weren't planning on making that extra effort in wrapping presents and making people feel good about getting them, they should have just left it to me.  I would have wrapped every single thing with care.  My little sister should have fallen asleep on Christmas Eve in a warm, familiar environment with excitement and optimism, not in some stranger's house without any hope of something to rip open the next morning. 
 

And before anyone gives me that bullshit about materialism not being the spirit of Christmas -- Christmas is measured by what you've badgered your parents into conjuring up for you.  If you didn't get a new video game or a book or a CD you've been wanting, you're pissed off at the people that did you wrong: your poor ass parents who had no clue as to what you truly wanted.  Shame on them!  Shame on you!  Shame on all of us for falling into some petty routine every year where sparkly commercialism commands that we buy only the most expensive, useless, new, technologically-advanced, top-of-the-line gadget that will have to be replaced in a month when the new piece of shit phone-tv-GPS-mp3 trinket is released. 

Christmas wasn't even about family for my sister and myself.  We were surrounded by strangers.  I hated it.  I wish my dad would just come and spend it with my mother's family and us so things could be more traditional.  I love that he's not chained down by any conventional behavior, but Christmas is just not something that should be tampered with. 

I adore my father and know that he's tried.  At least we had a nice time last night.  Roasted marshmallows and chugged too-sweet hot cocoa by the fire while discussing autism and Nikolai Tesla.  Had an argument over whether it's Tesla or "Lesla".  (He's so got his facts mixed up.) 

On the bright side -- my mom got me the sonata I wanted.  I really wanted Julie-o more, but this is nice.  It's far beyond my range of ability, but you've gotta start somewhere, right? 

• fathom
• complementary
• complimentary
• vacillate
• novella
• androgynous
• spector

• pee
• moist
• papaya
• artsy
• panties
• balls ("testicles", plz)
• pussy ("vagina", plz)
• pregnant
• bladder
• derriere