Music Class

I went to music and—grrrrr! I’ve decided to give my professor a challenge. That wench infuriates me. I got up to sing a song that is easy, the one that she implied is easy and that I sing. I did not get past the first two words notes. For five minutes in front of my class, we worked on that and then—she dismissed me to my seat and to go home and work on my song! Right after me, the three very best singers in the class who are truly talented (one guy is from Jamaica with this baritone voice that you feel more than you can hear) got up and chose to sing it! Why on Earth are they singing what is easy? These singers can sing anything and make it gold. She beams when they sing. They got to sing the entire song and everyone laughed—I enjoyed them, too, but there was no challenge for them. We have a recital coming up-- my husband will see them sing it and compare me to them in the car, “You weren’t like Lisa, Erica or Michael, but you were fine. You did better than I could do!”

After class, I went up to the accompanist and showed him a song that I love, written by Rorem, one of the 20^th century’s greatest composers who is still alive. I like the song for the poetry but I knew it wasn’t easy. It almost sounds Jewish. The music is haunting and it never leaves your soul. There are syllables that have two notes to them; "Mike" is hitting eight keys at once in some parts. Mike is an accomplished pianist-- the song is complicated for him. The Professor asked if I wanted to sing the song for the final and I said that I do. She and Mike both told me how hard it is and tried to talk me out of it. I reminded her that she said she would not let us sing anything that wasn’t in the book and that, “this song is in the book, is it not? You said that you’d not tell us what we should sing so that puts me in the driver’s seat.” We made eye contact and I stood up straight—she cackled but said that she will help me. If Barry Gibb could sing all his songs in falsetto with the BeeGees for 20 years, I can croak out my song for three minutes! I am grateful to Dave.

The song that will be central to my life for two months is called I Never Knew. It goes like this: I never knew how much loveliness lives in the bare and leafless trees/ Nor that gold and silver lovingly weave themselves into bronze webbing in which buds dream of coming, spring-drunk exuberance/ I never knew these best gifts strewn before us/ I never had time, could never rest, was always driven like a hunted animal/ But now the hunter is my quarry; I’ve caught what hunted me—Time-- and today upon its wings it have renewed my world.

Doesn’t it almost seem haiku-ish? It doesn’t rhyme and my audience won’t be smiling or laughing with me like I am used to when I mimed and did humorous speaking, but I’ll hit the high notes. I compared the music to a drawing that I am doing and Mike said, “But you are an advanced intermediate artist! This song is a great goal, Tea. . ." I liked watching my professor struggle with the words when she sang it-- the focus was off me screwing up and we got through it, then Mike wanted to go back and play with me singing and just go through it. It put us closer to working together. She didn't care if I got through the easy song, she could get testy over one note. With the complicated one, she was determined to get through it-- I happened to be there so she was working with me. Mike wanted to run through it again, "Tea, sing as best as you can and I'll just play and cue you in." Why didn't they just do that with the easy song?

What does it matter if I don't sing this well? I won't sing the other song well, either and I can't get past the first bar. The more advanced singers should be challenging themselves. I sing before class (I think) just fine. I don't think that my teacher knows me well enough to care much for me or put in energy to not like me. My five year old daughter said that she wants to be a pirate singing cowgirl, where she'd capture people on the ocean, tie them up, then get on her horse who'd be on her ship and she would sing to them. I may need to modify my daughter's ideas to get my teacher to tolerate me singing!

I'm swamped with school work and we have a student show next week for the art classes. I have to burn my pottery tonight.

My Hands

I have to get a Kodak-type account to post pictures. Today I was working on my pottery and I realized that I identify myself more through my hands than my face. My work isn't great, OK? I paint and draw pretty well, and I feel like I am on the cusp of breaking out with my drawing. I did some mail art to a friend on Friday and my husband said that he wishes that I was mailing things to him and that he inspired it! LOL

Anyway, while I was working on my pottery, I asked Peaches to do some snaps of it and she took a few of my hands and I said no, no, let me put this down and she said it was more interesting and kept shooting. How is it that my hands caked with clay (and India ink from yesterday) are closer to my self image than my face? My fingernails are dirty.

There was a time when I kept my nails beautiful all the time-- up until I was pregnant with TeaCup and my husband got laid off, I had kept my fingernails manicured every week. My manicurist was from Vietnam and he was brilliant and had an engineering degree from over there before he came here. He would tell me how much he loved seeing me and he'd hand me an article about something like crime rates in our state, a recent business story or whatever and I'd read it before I saw him. We'd talk about anything other than what you usually hear in a beauty salon. I never missed those appointments for eight years! It was therapy but I wasn't talking about me-- I was smart for that half hour that he saw me!

Anyway, I never went back to getting them done after I had TeaCup. When my husband resumed working, we were just weeks from losing the house and we had to play catch up for six months. It never seemed right going back. My hands are far from ugly-- but they are useful now. I never have all the terra cotta out from under them, or the ink stains off my skin.
They do not look as full of character as I think they are, but I think they are fascinating-- I think that everyone has fascinating hands. . .

Argh

I took the test Monday. I stayed up late Sunday night to 8 am Monday morning reading. It helped. I think I pulled a C-- I'll be surprised if it's any higher or lower. I got a decent understanding of the material but didn't have time to go over every little thing several times. I started taking the test, got done-- I was the third person to get done and left the class thinking that I'd have some time to wait until my husband got me. I started walking toward the lunchroom, then realized when I got my cell phone that it was almost time for class to be over. I had locked into the topic and didn't sit there thinking about how little I knew and time flew past me.

Sometimes life gets so overwhelming, then it is not that bad. I panic one minute and think I can never get something done but I somehow do. My husband can be supportive, but other times he is not-- but that is living with another person. Being married to me is not an easy thing!

He called me today and sent me some funny messages. I love it when he does that.

I took my eldest at home to parent teacher conferences. We had fun. She gets in trouble for talking in Japanese but she is making an A. Before we went in, she told me to ask her Japanese teacher if she has any friends. We sat down and started talking and I said, "I'm concerned about her A."

He said, "Mrs. Crumpet, I can assure you that your daughter is making the best grade in the class and she is one of my best students ever!"

I said, "OK. Grades-schmades. What I care about is her social life. She has no friends, no one ever calls her on the phone at the house. How is she socially? I mean, isn't this what high school is all about?"

He was so worried and not sure what to say! Peaches' jaw dropped, "I do too have friends!"

I went on about how anti-social she has been. . . SHE IS NOT ANTI SOCIAL IN THE LEAST-- IF THIS WERE TRUE I'D HAVE NOT SAID THIS. SHE KNEW THAT I WAS JOKING. . . how I am just worried, that maybe we needed to get her involved in some clubs. (She is super-involved in lots of things and lately some civil things with people who are older, doing things that she really enjoys.) I named off some clubs that I know "preps" do. She was going, "What?! I do not need to join ____ Club!" She was keeping a straight face while her teacher was perplexed!

"N-n-n-n-no, Darling! We will get you involved with lots of kids like you, just like you, I'm sure they feel just like you do!" I gave her a patronizing smile and pinched her cheek.

I started laughing then Peaches started laughing but her teacher was very confused! Peaches is not insecure by any means-- I'd have never said it in front of her were she insecure or had she no friends. Once he realized we were pulling his leg, he said she was a very talkative girl who interrupted his class with her discussions! He started laugh and said that he could see from where she got her sense of humor!

All of her teachers were great. We went around and chatted everyone up. They all seemed to like her and they were surprised that I came in with her as it's usually the kids with problems whose parents need to be there. Her English teacher was great and told me about her degrees-- she has a history teacher who lives and breathes history and was happy to hear that she talks about his class at dinner. Her science teacher is inspired-- and she has a math teacher who I just adore who also coaches. No dumb jock there!

I noticed all around us that most kids and parents were not chatty or having fun like we were. That was sad. I felt quite fortunate.

I took her to a Democratic meeting. THAT is not going over well here. My husband is not happy about that. He's happy for her but not for me-- Democrats are not into mega government like they seemed to be years ago. (That has slowly turned into a Republican thing!) I am pro-choice on abortion-- I hate it, but I have always felt that it is a symptom rather than the actual problem and i met with like-minded people. (I mentioned my stance with the Republicans and they were furious with me-- how could I support it! They don't make laws to protect children in custody battles between parents, they don't look at solutions for issues that concern me.) I have fallen away from my Republican friends in the last year. They didn't like someone I was supporting, telling me that she should "stay at home with her children and be a wife and mother--" while they were supporting someone who was corrupt. Those friendships sizzled which was sad as they were my friends and support.

My husband and I may wind up agreeing to disagree. He's not active with any elections unless i drag him into them-- I have fun getting involved with whomever is running. C'est la vie.

TeaCup is almost potty trained. Six months from now she will be completely dry. No more diapers for the first time since my husband married me almost 11 years ago when Sunshine was a year old. Amazing. What will I do with all that money? LOL I have enough bills-- but so nice to be not throwing money at something that will be thrown out!

What was I thinking?

I'm up late studying. I have a test that is a quarter of my grade tomorrow. It's linguistics. I love languages and linguistics, but the truth is, I just don't have the time. I need to sleep-- eight hours or I am not pretty and I turn into a beast. I feel doomed for the test. I put the kids to bed early this evening and started studying. Of course Sunshine needed help making a friends a birthday card, Peaches was interested in telling me how her weekend went-- I don't mind, but it's draining. Her weekend at a relatives' home was good for her.

My husband told me I am getting bad about snapping at the kids and giving them A Look (psychotic tiger who wants to eat her young-- ROWR!) and that I needed to stop. I said I'd stop but he needed to get them to not make me have to tell them things more than once if they are over 10 years of age. One of the kids proceeded to be told something and I had to remind that person several times, "Honey, I don't want to have to just walk in and order you out! You need to stop when I ask you to."

"But you usually do and I thought you were going to just tell me again when you were ready."

I gave her the Snappy Comment and the Look. It lasted four hours with me not doing that. Grrrr. I don't do it to improve my looks! They don't' want change. They want consistency.

I've been getting up to do some Pilates and yoga every half hour. I need to do that more. I haven't' felt so good at 2AM in a long time.

There is no way I can be the editor of my college paper. I am so worn out. I will still write for them though. Maybe I will see if there are any easier classes I can take.

On the good aspect of everything-- the kids are asleep. My husband is not on his work computer. No one is whining for the TV to be on. I have Pandora Radio on and I am taking breaks from my studying and getting laundry folded. It's been months-- seriously, months since I folded it. I often tell the kids to get it and they just recycle it into the clean clothes. We need to turn that BS off more often. So what if I am listening to Helen Reddy, Charlene, Shirley Bassy, Melissa Manchester, and Captain and Tennille and other artists who mostly only my gay friends appreciate! They will have to listen to it. They don't want a nutty mommy and they can put up with what makes me happy and serene so I get things done and don't have to ask them, and still feel like studying.

Panda Doctor (not to be confused with Ropi's Panda Girl.)

Panda Doc has a great story about patients. He's an ER doctor. You have to read this. Fortunately he has a great sense of irony, but I don't know what stops him from putting people out of their misery other than that it would be illegal.