I've met the Craigslist Killer

One of the strangest things about being a young musician is having your friends placed around the country/world. From music school classmates to participants from various programs, my friends are more scattered than the feathers from a 80's sleepover pillow-fight montage. This fact mixed with wedding season (for those of you who aren't terrified of commitment) means a lot of summer travel.

As I gear up to go to the wonderful weddings of my gorgeous old room mate and my old card buddy*, I find myself looking for a kind soul willing to give shelter to my pathetic creature. After exhausting all of my regular resources (like friends), I, like most normal people, turned to craigslist. Imagine my joy and wonderment when I found someone willing to watch Maude (and change her diapers) for all ten days for only $150! Too bad they live two hours away from me. I went to the second best deal, someone in Raleigh for slightly more. Maude and I agreed to go and meet this woman and tour her facility, to be sure it was of the upmost quality. I should have known...

Upon our arrival we saw the scariest shock collars known to man. Not like little "buzz" shock collars, but more like "I'm gonna mess you up of you ever even think about barkin again you stupid dog, cuz I'm a scary gangsta shock colla. Holla". Her dogs all had them on. Yikes. Next we looked in the backyard. It is still puzzling why someone who watches dogs would keep a cactus garden. The real terror came when we went into the kitchen. There, sitting next to the doggie treats was a huge hand pistol. I have no way of knowing for sure, but I'm pretty sure the serial number was scratched off. And the safety was off. And the trigger was cocked. This might be an exaggeration.

Needless to say Maude and I made our excuses and headed home. This has taught us two things: 1.) Be careful of craigslist, because you never know when you're going to meet a lady who has a gun pointing at you adjacent to beggin strips. 2.) Raleigh is a scary place.

*I sound like an awesome old man drinking Budweiser when I say "card buddy". Although I wish it were true, what I really mean is not beer and poker but "Dutch Bliss",the mennonite card game we used to play in college before church. Boom. Awesome. Blitz!

Singers and Paperwork

TREASURE HUNT!!!! 

What did I find after this treasure hunt in my own house? (Treasure, of course!) Apparently I have dental insurance. (I wish I would have known that before I paid out of pocket, but a treasure none the less).

I can't even begin to describe how many times I have gone on similar hunts in my own house to find what most people would consider vital information. (e.g. lease, checking account, adoption papers*, etc.).  I honestly didn't know I had dental insurance until my sister instructed me to go looking for it in my paper work from last August. The real question is not how did this crazy lady not know her own health care, but why is it in a random folder with the wrong name on it- and the wrong name isn't even Felicity Zzyblyx**.

Oddly enough, I can tell you where every libretto I own is. I can tell you the right binder for every scene/art song/aria that I have had to made copies of. (Not that I ever break copyright laws...). I can tell you about my passport and all of my audition application requirements- but I don't even know if I have coverage for m' pearly whites.

At this point we can all roll our eyes, shake our heads and sigh "singers and paperwork"!

*Not actually adopting anyone/or anything***, but I'm offended you have that look of surprise. I would most likely be an awesome mother, up to the point where I forgot I had it and found it 10 months later on a shelf in my practice room.

** Felicity Zzyblyx is my alter ego. She stems from a family tradition where my father used to refuse to give his name to delivery men and hostesses, and would provide the name "Felix Zzyblyx". I was mortified by this as a child, so of course I use a pseudonym now. And obviously as my father's daughter she is a Zzyblyx. And obviously I have an email account and address for her****. That's not weird.

***I did adopt Maude (she's sort of a dog) a couple of years ago, and she is kind of still alive. So there. I am awesome. I can kind of take care of a sort of animal. Winning.

****Her address is actually my friend's address from college. We were next door neighbors, so it was easy to remember. Sometimes she lives in Sussex, England though. Cuz that's believable.

Steve Martin lied to us.

I've applied for my visa! This may not seem exciting to anyone, but I know me and know how much I hate doing paperwork- as in I once filled out an entire sheet in blue marker so my boss would stop asking me to fill out useless forms. I stick to the story that I thought it was appropriate as she asked me to write in blue or black ink. It was your standard blue ink Crayola marker. Goal met.

I am getting more and more excited to go to China. I am also getting a little anxious. I know they're busy- but I really would like to have my rep now. Please? Pretty please? I'll trade you for Maude!

Although she may not make the flight over... but it is worth a shot.

In other news... The dentist gave me laughing gas today. (Have I ever needed an excuse to laugh?) He asked me how I was doing and I replied, "It's okay, I'm from Colorado". Apparently that is a magic phrase to share when you are supposed to be high, because he had no further questions on my well being. I'm not sure if it was a fabulous moment, or awkward, but I kept a straight face and just listened to the John Denver music. (Although, now that I think back good 'ole John might have been in my head).

I thought nitrous would be like this-

But turns out it is really more like this- 

Steve Martin lied to us. 

Walmart adventure

What do you do when you receive a $5 Walmart gift-card and good news in the same day? Obviously- go to Walmart at 10pm and find something that makes you happy.

Did you know that wally world doesn't have kazoos? I thought all stores, in all places, at ALL TIMES were required to sell kazoos. (It might even be in the Constitution, I think it's part of the pursuit of happiness). They have five different types of "Paper Jamz" and four different electric keyboards. They have 42 different pairs of Dr. Scholl's shoes, and a billion different types of goldfish. They have baby diapers, old lady diapers, baby doll diapers and dog diapers. But they don't have kazoos? Outrage.

Being the bigger person, I went for the kazoos' happy cousin. I said to myself: "Do you know what would make me, Maude, and my room mate really happy? Learning to play a harmonica at midnight!". And learn I did. But as it was a children's harmonica it didn't present much of a challenge. At this point I decided to being an even better room mate and play my harmonica while playing my new banjo ukulele. Clearly, this was a good plan.

Issue? I only have two hands. I solved the problem below, and can now go to sleep (or watch Netflix) happily. I think the room mate and the dog are really going to thank me for the miraculous music to come.

Merry sounds to all, and to all a good movie!

Epic Battle

Today Maude and I have been having an epic battle. (In my reality, I am good and hardworking and ethical- anything else that I may do is because of Maude's influence!)

Me: It's 8 am and I am fresh faced and ready to start the day. I should start with a three mile run and then a shower followed by reorganizing my fridge...
Maude: Silence! I require at least four more hours of sleep before we can discuss any further plans.

~And that's why I was in bed until noon. 

Me: It's almost 1! I should go make breakfast and warm-up and get practice and go on a three mile run...
Maude: That documentary about that person and that music is on Netflix.
Me: Ok, we'll watch it, and then practice...
Maude: Chocolate chip cookies sound divine right now.
Me: OK, we'll eat them and then go practice...

~And that's how I laid around watching online documentaries on random subjects while eating my roommates cookies.

Maude: Zoltar's naked yoga* is in ten minutes.
Me: ok, then practice?
Maude: mwuahhahaha... sure.

~And this is the story of how I fought with Maude all day, but never practiced. 

*For those of you who don't know (which is many) I like to go to a yoga class at my gym on Friday nights. The first time I went the instructor introduced himself with "Hi I'm Jim, but you can call me Zoltar". When I didn't have a mat, Zoltar lent me his- advising me not to use the patterned side because it was his "naked side". Lovely.

Hey Bandwagon, I'm Molly. Can I get a lift?

Many of you know, I've tried blogging before. I say "many", but I should say none, or just one (my mom), or maybe all- since my mom may be my only audience for this blog. I was so proud of myself for starting a blog, my first since my middle school foray into xanga. (To catch you up on that colossal failure see here: http://mezzomolly.livejournal.com/ ).

As predicted, it appears that my mom, my aunt, and my best friend were my only readers for that project. Also as predicted, I wrote a whopping total of 6 posts before forgetting about it and chasing a new whim. I'm not proud of my inattentiveness to minor projects, but impressed with myself for being able to call it on my first post.

Another summer adventure calls for another blog. This time, I have the time and the mind to blog leading up to my big trip. In a little over a month I will be heading to Beijing to sing opera. This week I'm going to start the process of applying for a VISA, learning music in MANDARIN, and getting some DENTAL WORK. All three things on my weekly list are incredibly intimidating, some more than others. (Little Shop of Horrors really ruined dentists for me. However,  mine is kind of a hottie so maybe he will resurrect my passion for dental hygiene).

So there you have it: I've started a blog and I'm about to have nightmares of Steve Martin in scrubs.

Love!
M