Things Ysabel does when she visits her family in California:
1. Eat
2. Sleep
3. Drink coffee
4. Eat
5. Do tons of laundry... 'cause it's FREE!!!!
6. Raid my dad's CD collection
7. Eat
Having been essentially a college student for the past 7 years, it is always a (wonderfully pleasant) shock to my senses when, everytime I open the door to my parents' or sister's refrigerator, I find it completely full of delicious leftovers skillfully crafted the previous night or so from actual scratch ingredients by actual human beings. Instead of various processed food products made to eat directly out of the box or "cooked" in the microwave. Which is essentially what my diet has consisted of since August of 1998. Even during the last two weeks in Bear Valley, I consumed a frightening amount of instant noodles as, during the fateful morning of my departure for the music festival, I was hazily wandering the aisles of the local grocery store (As I was warned, you soon learn that eating out in Bear Valley involves a commitment of at least $20 for every meal, so, unless you want to spend your entire festival paycheck on food, musicians know to bring groceries from home...) completely distracted by my anxiety over the as-yet missing eb clarinet and trying to hold a conversation on the phone with Scott. Hence, I ended up leaving for Bear Valley with grocery bags containing bananas, a bag of bagels and about 20 packages of Ramen instant noodles...
I didn't quite comprehend the horror of my situation until I got to Bear Valley and saw all the thoughtfully planned out foods my housemates had brought. Tons of fresh produce, pastas, etc. Luckily, my friend Erin was wonderful and pretty much fed me the whole time we were there. Thanks, E!
Anyway, I'm back here at the parents' house in Santa Rosa and am well on my way to completely emptying out the contents of their fridge. It's glorious. I have to find something to do while I'm waiting for my (FREE!!) laundry to finish, right? If I work efficiently enough, I will finish the job tomorrow morning in just enough time to drive to my sister's house in Sacramento and annihilate their food supply as well. MWAHAhahaha!!! I did enough walking in Bear Valley so I can afford to..... Also, coffee (along with a variety of flavored creamers) is always abundant at both of these dwellings so, despite my annual springtime attempts to break free from the addiction, I always fly back to Knoxville completely dependent on the delicious delicious caffeinated liquid crack.
I'm not doing too badly, yet. It is still early in the afternoon of my first full day here and I've only had 3 cups.
...Damnit.
8.15.2005
8.11.2005
Bear with me, I'm a musician"
Hahaha! That quote comes from a baseball cap they sell here at the Bear Valley Music Festival. I thought it was really cute, but I couldn't very well picture myself wearing a baseball cap that said that. Too much rolling of the eyes from my friends (as well as the general public), I would expect. I'm in the middle of my second week here in Bear Valley. I've taken over my housemate's computer (with which we were able to tap into some nearby cabin's wireless internet -- huzzah!) while she is practicing in her room so I've decided to do a quick update of my blog.
The first few days of this festival, I was not sure if I was going to like it or not. Being thrust into a new and strange living environment with new and strange people (musicians, no less... *shudder*) always makes me uneasy, but it seems my housemates and I are now finally beginning to settle in with each other. I'm sharing this house with Kurt (principal cello from Indiana), Cindy (2nd violin from Phoenix) and Sarah (2nd basson from Santa Barbara). Two people were here only last week and have since moved out: Erin, my good friend from UOP (bass clarinet) and Michael (a hilarious trumpet player from Britain, now working in northern California). Tomorrow, a harpist is moving in with us who is coming just to play Scheherazade this weekend.
I've had a really fun time getting to play some great repertoire, most of which I hadn't had the opportunity to play before (Hindemith's Mathis der Maler, William Schuman's New England Triptych, Rach Piano Concerto 4, Grieg Piano Concerto in A minor, Shostakovich 5, etc etc.). These next few days we get to play Brahms 4, Debussy's Prelude to an Afternoon of a Faun, Scheherazade, as well as The Barber of Seville and a few other things. The constant playing has been really good for me, as far as reconfirming my conviction that playing the clarinet really is what I want to do. And that I can actually make it in this business ... somehow. (And, goshdarnit, people like me!) Regardless of the fact that I just graduated with my Master's degree and am tragically bountiless in the job-prospects department. Whatevs. I will hit the pavement hard the minute I set foot back in Knoxville, dammit (...maybe I'll give myself that weekend to take things easy, first...)!! And I WILL find a way to make a living as a bona-fide musician (...or at least find a way to make a living while still being a bona-fide musican...)!!!
Anyway, this place is beautiful. Picture Lake Tahoe, but on a smaller scale. And our house has a breathtaking view of Bear Lake right from our balcony. It's gorgeous. Maybe when I get back home I'll post some pictures here. When you take a walk around the lake, you can smell the pine trees and it makes you realize how great it is to smell the actual trees and flowers instead of air fresheners. The only thing I've had to sacrifice from being here is the use of my precious cell phone (but I'm actually getting to like not having to cater to the demands of a cell phone...) and the full-capacity use of my already pathetically weak lungs (we're up at over 7,000 feet). I stopped in at the Bear Valley sports shop in between rehearsals today and got to chatting with the nice man who works there, Lance. I was telling him how I was a bit shocked about the lack of cell phone reception when I first got here, and he gave me the heads up on three spots where he is able to get a signal on his phone: the driveway of Basecamp (the local pub), the gas station (yes, Bear Valley only has one gas station: $2.99 an f*ing gallon!!!!!!!!!!), and the intersection at the top of the trail leading to the beach right by my house. I tried the first two this afternoon but was unsuccessful. Damn you, Cingular!!! But I will try the beach spot tomorrow (seeing as how we have only a morning rehearsal and an evening concert, I have the entire midday to go relax by the lake ... ah, what a hard life this is...).
Also, my lack of oxygen intake was in full-force in our afternoon rehearsal today as I was not exactly in my peak physical condition (long story.... violin party at my house last night, avoided it by going to Basecamp and having a STRONG gin & tonic with dinner -- by the way, me and alcohol at this altitude: not smart --, dropped by the tent to catch some of the County Line Trio concert that was going on that night -- bluegrass...reminded me of Tennessee --, came back home to find the house invaded by many crazy, drunken violinists and spent the rest of the night hibernating under the sheets in my bed up in the loft making excuses not to go with said crazy, drunken violinists down to the beach to build a bonfire...). Needless to say, this afternoon's rehearsal was spent by me alternately playing bits of Debussy and Brahms and then putting my head between my legs in an attempt to not pass out from the lightheadedness.
It's also been fun/funny reuniting with some old faculty members from UOP who are also here in Bear Valley. Especially my old music history mentor, George Nemeth, who was my own personal writing/grammar Nazi during my former life as a Music History major during my undergrad, and who plays horn in this festival. I was at a wine-tasting booth with him a couple of nights ago and I was instantly transformed back into my 19-year old self as he berated me for using "me" improperly instead of "I." And then he laughed as the wine-makers at the booth scolded me for having chewing gum in my mouth while I was tasting their wine. As Dr. Nemeth said, "Some things never change." (What was that supposed to mean??!!)
Well, folks. I think that's pretty much it for my update. Hope you are all having a great summer!
ps. Heather, on my day off this past Monday I visited my sister and her family in Sacramento and, subsequently, brought the e-fer there for safekeeping for the remainder of this festival. So unless some stealthy bandits (SGS! Haha!) go in and rummage through her coat closet and kidnap the eb clarinet, you can rest assured I will not lose or otherwise harm your instrument any further.
pps. Speaking of thieving bandits, I found out during my second day here in BV that my Visa card had been used without my authorization during my 4tet's fabulous trip in Tokyo and that my bank account had been overdrawn by several hundred dollars!! Try sorting that entire mess out with no cell phone or internet access.... It was quite the nightmare. But hopefully it is almost all straightened out...
ppps. I better get asked back to do Bear Valley next summer. And you all better plan on coming with me because this is too much fun not to have anyone close to share it with.
pppps. I love Scott Atchison. *sigh*
ppppps. Jim Snyder, you can stop rolling your eyes.
The first few days of this festival, I was not sure if I was going to like it or not. Being thrust into a new and strange living environment with new and strange people (musicians, no less... *shudder*) always makes me uneasy, but it seems my housemates and I are now finally beginning to settle in with each other. I'm sharing this house with Kurt (principal cello from Indiana), Cindy (2nd violin from Phoenix) and Sarah (2nd basson from Santa Barbara). Two people were here only last week and have since moved out: Erin, my good friend from UOP (bass clarinet) and Michael (a hilarious trumpet player from Britain, now working in northern California). Tomorrow, a harpist is moving in with us who is coming just to play Scheherazade this weekend.
I've had a really fun time getting to play some great repertoire, most of which I hadn't had the opportunity to play before (Hindemith's Mathis der Maler, William Schuman's New England Triptych, Rach Piano Concerto 4, Grieg Piano Concerto in A minor, Shostakovich 5, etc etc.). These next few days we get to play Brahms 4, Debussy's Prelude to an Afternoon of a Faun, Scheherazade, as well as The Barber of Seville and a few other things. The constant playing has been really good for me, as far as reconfirming my conviction that playing the clarinet really is what I want to do. And that I can actually make it in this business ... somehow. (And, goshdarnit, people like me!) Regardless of the fact that I just graduated with my Master's degree and am tragically bountiless in the job-prospects department. Whatevs. I will hit the pavement hard the minute I set foot back in Knoxville, dammit (...maybe I'll give myself that weekend to take things easy, first...)!! And I WILL find a way to make a living as a bona-fide musician (...or at least find a way to make a living while still being a bona-fide musican...)!!!
Anyway, this place is beautiful. Picture Lake Tahoe, but on a smaller scale. And our house has a breathtaking view of Bear Lake right from our balcony. It's gorgeous. Maybe when I get back home I'll post some pictures here. When you take a walk around the lake, you can smell the pine trees and it makes you realize how great it is to smell the actual trees and flowers instead of air fresheners. The only thing I've had to sacrifice from being here is the use of my precious cell phone (but I'm actually getting to like not having to cater to the demands of a cell phone...) and the full-capacity use of my already pathetically weak lungs (we're up at over 7,000 feet). I stopped in at the Bear Valley sports shop in between rehearsals today and got to chatting with the nice man who works there, Lance. I was telling him how I was a bit shocked about the lack of cell phone reception when I first got here, and he gave me the heads up on three spots where he is able to get a signal on his phone: the driveway of Basecamp (the local pub), the gas station (yes, Bear Valley only has one gas station: $2.99 an f*ing gallon!!!!!!!!!!), and the intersection at the top of the trail leading to the beach right by my house. I tried the first two this afternoon but was unsuccessful. Damn you, Cingular!!! But I will try the beach spot tomorrow (seeing as how we have only a morning rehearsal and an evening concert, I have the entire midday to go relax by the lake ... ah, what a hard life this is...).
Also, my lack of oxygen intake was in full-force in our afternoon rehearsal today as I was not exactly in my peak physical condition (long story.... violin party at my house last night, avoided it by going to Basecamp and having a STRONG gin & tonic with dinner -- by the way, me and alcohol at this altitude: not smart --, dropped by the tent to catch some of the County Line Trio concert that was going on that night -- bluegrass...reminded me of Tennessee --, came back home to find the house invaded by many crazy, drunken violinists and spent the rest of the night hibernating under the sheets in my bed up in the loft making excuses not to go with said crazy, drunken violinists down to the beach to build a bonfire...). Needless to say, this afternoon's rehearsal was spent by me alternately playing bits of Debussy and Brahms and then putting my head between my legs in an attempt to not pass out from the lightheadedness.
It's also been fun/funny reuniting with some old faculty members from UOP who are also here in Bear Valley. Especially my old music history mentor, George Nemeth, who was my own personal writing/grammar Nazi during my former life as a Music History major during my undergrad, and who plays horn in this festival. I was at a wine-tasting booth with him a couple of nights ago and I was instantly transformed back into my 19-year old self as he berated me for using "me" improperly instead of "I." And then he laughed as the wine-makers at the booth scolded me for having chewing gum in my mouth while I was tasting their wine. As Dr. Nemeth said, "Some things never change." (What was that supposed to mean??!!)
Well, folks. I think that's pretty much it for my update. Hope you are all having a great summer!
ps. Heather, on my day off this past Monday I visited my sister and her family in Sacramento and, subsequently, brought the e-fer there for safekeeping for the remainder of this festival. So unless some stealthy bandits (SGS! Haha!) go in and rummage through her coat closet and kidnap the eb clarinet, you can rest assured I will not lose or otherwise harm your instrument any further.
pps. Speaking of thieving bandits, I found out during my second day here in BV that my Visa card had been used without my authorization during my 4tet's fabulous trip in Tokyo and that my bank account had been overdrawn by several hundred dollars!! Try sorting that entire mess out with no cell phone or internet access.... It was quite the nightmare. But hopefully it is almost all straightened out...
ppps. I better get asked back to do Bear Valley next summer. And you all better plan on coming with me because this is too much fun not to have anyone close to share it with.
pppps. I love Scott Atchison. *sigh*
ppppps. Jim Snyder, you can stop rolling your eyes.
7.31.2005
It's mine!! ...My preciousssss
The e-fer is here safe and sound! But not at 2 or 3 in the morning as originally stated. Apparently the luggage spent the night in San Carlos -- which, by the way, is nowhere near in between San Francisco and Santa Rosa, but completely in the opposite direction. Instead, it got here at 11:15am -- 45 minutes before I had to leave for Bear Valley. But whatever. I have the instrument. I hate American Airlines.
7.30.2005
The joys of airline travel....
Ok, in about one month minus 1 day, I am officially not getting on another airplane for another 10 years. Just kidding. When I start getting homesick around the holidays, I will be rethinking that sentiment, but until then....
*** As a disclaimer, let me add that there is a good chance that if your name is Heather Klenow, you will hate me after reading this story. Please don't hate me!! I meant no harm! As you read this story, Heather, just keep in mind that it eventually has a happy ending, and let that soothe the guaranteed anger you will justifiably be feeling towards my insurmountable stupidity!!! ***
So let me tell you the spectacle I made of myself at the San Francisco airport earlier this evening.
I had finally landed in California after yet another miserable day of flying the unfriendly skies (which, by the way, started off with Scott having to pull over on Alcoa Highway on the way to the airport in Knoxville so I could vomit out the side of the car. The gods were warning me...) and was waiting at the baggage carousel for my two pieces of checked luggage. Waiting waiting waiting. Finally, about 30 minutes later and after all but two other passengers had come and gone, I received one of my bags. The one with souvenirs for my family from Japan and nothing else. I kept waiting for my larger, slightly more important, piece of luggage -- the one with all my clothes, shoes, personal items, phone charger ... and Heather's eb clarinet. Despite a voice in my head telling me that I should try to carry the instrument on board with me, I instead decided to pack the clarinet in my suitcase (very carefully, Heather! Very carefully!!) so I wouldn't be given any grief by the airline for having too many carry-ons. Anyway, when the carousel stopped moving, I believe I went into a sort of shock/panic thinking of all the scenarios that might have happened. Did someone take my luggage by mistake? On purpose?? Did the airline lose my luggage??!! I headed over to the parcel services counter where there were seriously like 7 other passengers from my flight asking about luggage that never came. I was last to get in line since, while the others were calmly making the steps to retrieve their lost luggage, I was still standing by the unmoving carousel staring into space with unblinking eyes while I may or may not have peed in my pants a little. In line at the counter, I started to think of all the things I would have to do to make up to Heather the fact that I had just lost her virtually brand-new wonderful eb clarinet which she had been so generous to let me borrow. My eyes began to well up thinking about how much I would miss my kidneys and left leg after I had sold them on the black market for the money to replace the instrument. As I neared my turn at the counter, Scott called and -- as he tried to tell me that this sort of thing happens all the time and that I would get my luggage back -- I started crying right there in front of the American Airlines (grrrr.... GRRRRR!!!!!) employees and passengers. I got off the phone with Scott in just enough time to talk to the woman at the counter. I attempted to wipe the tears from my eyes in an attempt to persuade everyone there that I had indeed not just been blubbering like a baby about some stupid lost piece of luggage. It obviously had not worked, however, since the woman at the counter looked at me like I was a crazy person and the guy being helped next to me kept giving me worried (puzzled? amused?!) sideways glances. I managed to gather my composure eventually, until the woman asked me for three things inside the suitcase that would make it easily identifiable as mine, and I lost it all over again as I tried to explain that there was an expensive instrument inside. I believe it went something like this: "There's an e-f-f-flat c-clarinet... Like a clar-ar-arinet only s-s-s-sm-smaller... Um-um-ummm... It's inside a black -- no no no, I m-m-ean brown -- like rectangular case. And the c-c-clarinet is ins-s-s-side the c-case..." Seriously. Eventually, after I finished blubbering the woman at the counter told me that the luggage would be delivered to me within 24 hours at my parents' house in Santa Rosa. Which presented a whole new set of problems because in exactly 24 hours I had to be checked in at the Bear Valley music festival, 4 hours away from Santa Rosa, where I would be playing said clarinet. As I was walking away to catch the bus to Santa Rosa, I asked the woman at the counter if she could tell me where exactly my bag was at the moment, whereupon I was told, "Oh, it's probably in Chicago..." In the words of a former musicology professor: Fie on you, American Airlines!!
Anyway, long story short, I called the airline twice later to check on the status of my luggage, but was continually told that my bag had not come in on any of the incoming flights from Chicago and they were still waiting for it to arrive. At this point I went upstairs to my bedroom, curled up into a fetal position and drifted off into a state of blissful denial-laced hibernation.
And theeeeen: dun-da-da-DUN!!! My mommy knocked on the door asking if I wanted her to check with the airline one more time, at which point I, of course, still being a 12-year old child inside, said yes. 10 minutes later or so she came back to tell me that the luggage had FINALLY been located and that it would be delivered by 2 or 3 this morning (PST). Huzzah!!! I can keep my body parts after all! And I can go to Bear Valley without fear of being fired for not having an eb clarinet for Shostakovich 5!! And Heather doesn't have to fully hate me after all!! Although, of course, Heather, you should hate me just a little for putting your instrument under such peril. I will bring back glorious organic goodies from Northern California to buy back your friendship.
Lesson #1: American Airlines sucks. They make you pay $400 for a ticket on a crummy plane with no in-flight movie -- and then make you pay another $3 on the plane in order to receive your "snack," which is essentially a small cardboard box in which they put a tiny package of chips and salsa, cheese dip, sausage and cookies. I think not!! My super fancy personally made trail mix from Fresh Market will serve me just fine, thanks.
Lesson #2: Any competent musician knows this: Do not check your instruments in if you can help it in any way shape or form. Always carry it on with you! What was I thinking? I've never done this before. Gah. Stupid momentary brain fart. More like brain diarrhea. Never again!!
Lesson #3: Although it cannot be helped many times -- especially when you're as surprisingly emotionally fragile as I can be at times (blah) -- crying in public (about a clarinet, for Christ's sake!) is a surefire way of getting people to look at you strangely. No matter how ultra-chic you may look in your leather kitten-heeled sandals and fantastic gold woven top purchased in Tokyo, Japan.
PS. I'm still working on that photo-journal of our trip to Tokyo. It's quite a painstaking process.
Not really. I've just been incredibly lazy this week. Get off my case.
*** As a disclaimer, let me add that there is a good chance that if your name is Heather Klenow, you will hate me after reading this story. Please don't hate me!! I meant no harm! As you read this story, Heather, just keep in mind that it eventually has a happy ending, and let that soothe the guaranteed anger you will justifiably be feeling towards my insurmountable stupidity!!! ***
So let me tell you the spectacle I made of myself at the San Francisco airport earlier this evening.
I had finally landed in California after yet another miserable day of flying the unfriendly skies (which, by the way, started off with Scott having to pull over on Alcoa Highway on the way to the airport in Knoxville so I could vomit out the side of the car. The gods were warning me...) and was waiting at the baggage carousel for my two pieces of checked luggage. Waiting waiting waiting. Finally, about 30 minutes later and after all but two other passengers had come and gone, I received one of my bags. The one with souvenirs for my family from Japan and nothing else. I kept waiting for my larger, slightly more important, piece of luggage -- the one with all my clothes, shoes, personal items, phone charger ... and Heather's eb clarinet. Despite a voice in my head telling me that I should try to carry the instrument on board with me, I instead decided to pack the clarinet in my suitcase (very carefully, Heather! Very carefully!!) so I wouldn't be given any grief by the airline for having too many carry-ons. Anyway, when the carousel stopped moving, I believe I went into a sort of shock/panic thinking of all the scenarios that might have happened. Did someone take my luggage by mistake? On purpose?? Did the airline lose my luggage??!! I headed over to the parcel services counter where there were seriously like 7 other passengers from my flight asking about luggage that never came. I was last to get in line since, while the others were calmly making the steps to retrieve their lost luggage, I was still standing by the unmoving carousel staring into space with unblinking eyes while I may or may not have peed in my pants a little. In line at the counter, I started to think of all the things I would have to do to make up to Heather the fact that I had just lost her virtually brand-new wonderful eb clarinet which she had been so generous to let me borrow. My eyes began to well up thinking about how much I would miss my kidneys and left leg after I had sold them on the black market for the money to replace the instrument. As I neared my turn at the counter, Scott called and -- as he tried to tell me that this sort of thing happens all the time and that I would get my luggage back -- I started crying right there in front of the American Airlines (grrrr.... GRRRRR!!!!!) employees and passengers. I got off the phone with Scott in just enough time to talk to the woman at the counter. I attempted to wipe the tears from my eyes in an attempt to persuade everyone there that I had indeed not just been blubbering like a baby about some stupid lost piece of luggage. It obviously had not worked, however, since the woman at the counter looked at me like I was a crazy person and the guy being helped next to me kept giving me worried (puzzled? amused?!) sideways glances. I managed to gather my composure eventually, until the woman asked me for three things inside the suitcase that would make it easily identifiable as mine, and I lost it all over again as I tried to explain that there was an expensive instrument inside. I believe it went something like this: "There's an e-f-f-flat c-clarinet... Like a clar-ar-arinet only s-s-s-sm-smaller... Um-um-ummm... It's inside a black -- no no no, I m-m-ean brown -- like rectangular case. And the c-c-clarinet is ins-s-s-side the c-case..." Seriously. Eventually, after I finished blubbering the woman at the counter told me that the luggage would be delivered to me within 24 hours at my parents' house in Santa Rosa. Which presented a whole new set of problems because in exactly 24 hours I had to be checked in at the Bear Valley music festival, 4 hours away from Santa Rosa, where I would be playing said clarinet. As I was walking away to catch the bus to Santa Rosa, I asked the woman at the counter if she could tell me where exactly my bag was at the moment, whereupon I was told, "Oh, it's probably in Chicago..." In the words of a former musicology professor: Fie on you, American Airlines!!
Anyway, long story short, I called the airline twice later to check on the status of my luggage, but was continually told that my bag had not come in on any of the incoming flights from Chicago and they were still waiting for it to arrive. At this point I went upstairs to my bedroom, curled up into a fetal position and drifted off into a state of blissful denial-laced hibernation.
And theeeeen: dun-da-da-DUN!!! My mommy knocked on the door asking if I wanted her to check with the airline one more time, at which point I, of course, still being a 12-year old child inside, said yes. 10 minutes later or so she came back to tell me that the luggage had FINALLY been located and that it would be delivered by 2 or 3 this morning (PST). Huzzah!!! I can keep my body parts after all! And I can go to Bear Valley without fear of being fired for not having an eb clarinet for Shostakovich 5!! And Heather doesn't have to fully hate me after all!! Although, of course, Heather, you should hate me just a little for putting your instrument under such peril. I will bring back glorious organic goodies from Northern California to buy back your friendship.
Lesson #1: American Airlines sucks. They make you pay $400 for a ticket on a crummy plane with no in-flight movie -- and then make you pay another $3 on the plane in order to receive your "snack," which is essentially a small cardboard box in which they put a tiny package of chips and salsa, cheese dip, sausage and cookies. I think not!! My super fancy personally made trail mix from Fresh Market will serve me just fine, thanks.
Lesson #2: Any competent musician knows this: Do not check your instruments in if you can help it in any way shape or form. Always carry it on with you! What was I thinking? I've never done this before. Gah. Stupid momentary brain fart. More like brain diarrhea. Never again!!
Lesson #3: Although it cannot be helped many times -- especially when you're as surprisingly emotionally fragile as I can be at times (blah) -- crying in public (about a clarinet, for Christ's sake!) is a surefire way of getting people to look at you strangely. No matter how ultra-chic you may look in your leather kitten-heeled sandals and fantastic gold woven top purchased in Tokyo, Japan.
PS. I'm still working on that photo-journal of our trip to Tokyo. It's quite a painstaking process.
Not really. I've just been incredibly lazy this week. Get off my case.
7.27.2005
Home sweet home
Am back from Tokyo. So jet-lagged. No desire or will-power to write words. Want to throw self out of nearby window at prospect of getting on another plane in 4 days.
Will attempt to write thoughtful and detailed account of Tokyo-trip sometime in upcoming days...
Will attempt to write thoughtful and detailed account of Tokyo-trip sometime in upcoming days...
7.17.2005
Tokyo bound!!!
Countdown to Tokyo: 10 hours...
Ok, so this will essentially be my last post before we leave for Tokyo. WOOO! The unfortunate part is that I have been feeling nauseous all day. If any of you have any free time tonight, feel free to make a virgin sacrifice to the anti-vomit gods for me that I feel better before we take off -- or those 18 hours on the plane will be the most miserable 18 hours of my entire life (and probably the worst 18 hours of my seat mates' lives as well...).
Anyhoo, I'm too distracted (and near-vomitous) to type anymore. My apologies! If I'm feeling super-devoted to this blog, I may chance to post a few words whilst in Tokyo ... but seeing as how that will take away precious moments from the upcoming sake- and sushi-fest (and clarinerd time......), that will be a long shot. Also, I have to remember to buy some friends some promised souvenirs in between said fests:
Sarah L. : postcard (this may be purchased and composed in Tokyo, but sent in Knoxville...)
Elizabeth: Japanese candy
Jeremiah: anime (at this point I would call J a nerd, but I do not feel entitled to this time since I am going to a clarinet convention...)
April: Japanese unmentionable (hahaha)
In any case, wish us luck on our performance on Thursday morning and, should I attempt a hike of Mt. Fuji in the upcoming week, pray that my lungs do not suddenly cease function, causing me to get left behind and eaten by stealthy Japanese mountain goats.
Ok, so this will essentially be my last post before we leave for Tokyo. WOOO! The unfortunate part is that I have been feeling nauseous all day. If any of you have any free time tonight, feel free to make a virgin sacrifice to the anti-vomit gods for me that I feel better before we take off -- or those 18 hours on the plane will be the most miserable 18 hours of my entire life (and probably the worst 18 hours of my seat mates' lives as well...).
Anyhoo, I'm too distracted (and near-vomitous) to type anymore. My apologies! If I'm feeling super-devoted to this blog, I may chance to post a few words whilst in Tokyo ... but seeing as how that will take away precious moments from the upcoming sake- and sushi-fest (and clarinerd time......), that will be a long shot. Also, I have to remember to buy some friends some promised souvenirs in between said fests:
Sarah L. : postcard (this may be purchased and composed in Tokyo, but sent in Knoxville...)
Elizabeth: Japanese candy
Jeremiah: anime (at this point I would call J a nerd, but I do not feel entitled to this time since I am going to a clarinet convention...)
April: Japanese unmentionable (hahaha)
In any case, wish us luck on our performance on Thursday morning and, should I attempt a hike of Mt. Fuji in the upcoming week, pray that my lungs do not suddenly cease function, causing me to get left behind and eaten by stealthy Japanese mountain goats.
7.14.2005
Yay! I love me.
Countdown to Tokyo: 4 days, people!!!
 You are nurturing, kind, and lucky. Like mother nature, you want to help everyone. You are good at keeping secrets and tend to be secretive. A seeker of harmony, you are a natural peacemaker. You are good natured and people enjoy your company. You put people at ease and make them feel at home with you. |
I guess I can be good natured ... but only when I'm not being hormonal.
My sweetie (haHA!) comes home tomorrow! To celebrate I -- did you expect anything different? -- went to Target. Bought an Elle magazine (ugh. ...Why must I waste my precious dollars on mindless purchases just a few days before the Tokyo trip??!!), 26 hangers (I was the mistress of closet organization these past few days), a 2 liter of Diet Coke and some ice cream: Edy's Rocky Road and Girl Scout Thin Mint Cookies...gghhhlllalllalllh -- that is the sound of Homer drooling, by the way. Anyhoo, it's time to jump in the shower and make myself pretty for a nighttime quartet rehearsal. Tokyo, here we come!!!
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