The time has come my loves and little ones... Audition Day! I am sitting in the lobby of my first audition waiting for my practice room. You might think I would be focusing on my music and going over it my head (and over it and over it) but my give a shit quotient is at an all time low. Instead of looking over my music and wondering how I can possibly sing it all without peeing my pants, I am listening to this and writing to entertain you all.
This may be the best tactic ever. I may go into the audition room an hour from now and feel like an absolute balla', or I might bomb it. Either way, we'll know in an hour!
Seriously though, I have already checked in at multiple locations, met with my accompanist, warmed up in the shower, reviewed the tricky bits of all of my pieces, sang through the high notes of my opening piece, drank a poop ton of tea/water, snacked on a granola bar, checked myself in the mirror to make sure I am as beautiful as I remember/not a vampire, and put hairspray on my hair and panty hose (so neither fall out of place). Will someone please tell me what else to do? Because I can't possibly have all my shit this together...
Oh well, off to obsess somewhere else...
Toi, toi, toi to my self- because I know you all would say it if you had the chance!
Sunday, January 27, 2013
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
I wanted to say Happy New Year, but my face is broken so I can't.
Congratulations everybody, we all made it to 2013. Many of you are probably proud of yourselves for sticking past the first day of your resolutions, hopefully nobody decided to add "spend less time on the interwebs" or "read less blogs by crazy opera singers with not much to say" to your list.*
I'd like to say that 2013 will be filled with less shenanigans on my part, but I decided not to lie to people on my blog. (REAL LIFE- HECK YES. BLOG- NEVER!) Besides, with 7 auditions coming up** I know that the madness and disturbing tales are sure to accompany. What I didn't know was that my New Years would be spent with double vision and losing an eye due to my broken face. Too much too soon? Let's pull a Julie Andrews and start at the very beginning...
I used to love my ex-roomie RY. Look at how cute we are getting ready to celebrate the end of 2012:
This love ended at 12:13 am January 1st, 2013. This is the moment when I knew that 2013 was going to be rocky and scary, and I will blame all of the years misfortunes on the above man. "What did he do?" asks you the reader. I'll tell you-HE MENTIONED THIS BLOG TO MY NEW YEARS DATE (NYD) !!!**** You might be asking "What's the big deal?" or "Why all of the secrecy?". But that's because you fall into one of two categories: 1.) People who know me so freaking well they expect the awkward word vomit that I like to call a blog (aka my mom, Maude, and Megro), or 2.) Some rando who doesn't matter much to me. I didn't mean that, you all matter to me! I just meant that you are probably someone I was in choir with in 7th grade who found my shameless plug for my blog through facebook. You totally matter to me old choir friend/jv football player I went to homecoming with/ and dentist of my step-dad!*****
Point being, NYD does not fall into one of the two categories. He is slowly getting to know me, which is probably wise, because quickly getting to know me can be overwhelming. Not that I want to hide my personality from him, I just don't want him to know that I hate showering and can't do it properly without a beer, or that I frequently order so much takeout they assume that it is for a large party, or that I am paranoid that Maude is dead and check on her at all hours of the day... crap like that needs to be shared in small doses. Luckily RY caught my laser death glare****** before he gave out the blog's name. Hopefully NYD won't see this, or he will most likely not contact me again. On the other hand, if he reads it and still contacts me, I will think he is a freak for wanting to talk to the same girl who wrote a freaking love letter to Chipotle and won't want to talk to him again. Maybe he will contact me and not mention anything about the blog, and then I'll grow increasingly suspicious over whether he has read it and refuses to mention it. Why won't he mention it? Does he not think I'm funny? Is he trying to be sneaky? Why should I go on a date with someone who doesn't like my stinking blog? Or what if he doesn't look it up? WHAT KIND OF JERK DOESN'T READ THE BLOG OF THE GIRL HE TOOK OUT FOR NYE? ... I could go on with this line of questioning for awhile, but you can see from the above that I am damned if he does, damned if he don't. (And crazy. You can see that I'm slightly crazy).
And now you see why RY's subtle mention of my blog was the first disaster of 2013. The second was when my sister broke my face (by accident) while she was suffocating me on couch (on purpose).
I'd like to write more about that, but this post is already too long. Also, my face is swelling up and the vicodin is kicking in, but I promise to give the full account of my brush with death******* tomorrow, complete with more pictures like this:
Notice the swelling and the death? This story is actually worse than usual... look out folks! Til tomorrow! (Or some other awesome phrase that sounds like a wicked cool cliffhanger!)
* I myself have made no New Years Resolutions. In part because I am too lazy, part because I forgot, part because I believe that you should make positive changes in your life no matter what time of the year it is, and part because I am just so stinking awesome I have no need for change<---Yea, I said that.
** Yes, I got 8/8 auditions from applications. Now instead of getting a friendly PFO in the mail, I have to fly to a foreign city to get rejected. Opera auditions are like the worst case of online dating ever, like the type of crap they would put on To Catch a Predator... "The victim was convinced to fly across the freaking country for a ten minute interview and was never heard from again, because what kind of idiot flies thousands of miles and pays thousands of dollars to get rejected after 10 minutes? The kind of idiot that would fall for an online murder scammer guy!"***
*** I realize that my logic may be flawed here, but it made sense when I started typing and then I got too lazy to delete it and start over. Maybe that should be a resolution, actually go back and edit your work...
**** I refuse to say any more about this man, so don't ask. I'd like to say it is because I protect people's identities on my blog, but really it is because I don't want to give my family any ammunition when they start teasing. Last time I told them I was dating somebody was 6 years ago, and when they found out that he was planning on going into seminary they had my nephews refer to the man as "Uncle Father" for years. (Even though we only dated for months). Teasing is a blood sport in my family, and I have to protect myself!
***** I don't know why I said that. I panicked. I don't have a step-dad. My dad is awesome and has been married to my mom for a really long time. Like, almost twice my age long. (But not really twice my age. Closer to twice my age than half my age, so, twice sounds better).
****** This is Rufus's laser death glare. This is pretty much what I looked like to RY when he was blabbing about my personal brand of cray-cray to one of the last men on Earth who didn't know I was fucking psycho.
*******I just realized that this story better be really good, because nothing fabulous happened in this post. (Besides that dress I'm wearing). <--- Yea, I said that too.
********This has little to do with anything above, except the fact that I think I use too many footnotes, or maybe just too many to continue to use asterisks (astri?). For real though, 8 is a bit much. Maybe in my next post (the last one I write before I die from my face falling off) I will use a number system. But not in chronological order, because that would be hard to remember. Plus, it will be like a game to find the right footnote number.
I'd like to say that 2013 will be filled with less shenanigans on my part, but I decided not to lie to people on my blog. (REAL LIFE- HECK YES. BLOG- NEVER!) Besides, with 7 auditions coming up** I know that the madness and disturbing tales are sure to accompany. What I didn't know was that my New Years would be spent with double vision and losing an eye due to my broken face. Too much too soon? Let's pull a Julie Andrews and start at the very beginning...
I used to love my ex-roomie RY. Look at how cute we are getting ready to celebrate the end of 2012:
Point being, NYD does not fall into one of the two categories. He is slowly getting to know me, which is probably wise, because quickly getting to know me can be overwhelming. Not that I want to hide my personality from him, I just don't want him to know that I hate showering and can't do it properly without a beer, or that I frequently order so much takeout they assume that it is for a large party, or that I am paranoid that Maude is dead and check on her at all hours of the day... crap like that needs to be shared in small doses. Luckily RY caught my laser death glare****** before he gave out the blog's name. Hopefully NYD won't see this, or he will most likely not contact me again. On the other hand, if he reads it and still contacts me, I will think he is a freak for wanting to talk to the same girl who wrote a freaking love letter to Chipotle and won't want to talk to him again. Maybe he will contact me and not mention anything about the blog, and then I'll grow increasingly suspicious over whether he has read it and refuses to mention it. Why won't he mention it? Does he not think I'm funny? Is he trying to be sneaky? Why should I go on a date with someone who doesn't like my stinking blog? Or what if he doesn't look it up? WHAT KIND OF JERK DOESN'T READ THE BLOG OF THE GIRL HE TOOK OUT FOR NYE? ... I could go on with this line of questioning for awhile, but you can see from the above that I am damned if he does, damned if he don't. (And crazy. You can see that I'm slightly crazy).
And now you see why RY's subtle mention of my blog was the first disaster of 2013. The second was when my sister broke my face (by accident) while she was suffocating me on couch (on purpose).
I'd like to write more about that, but this post is already too long. Also, my face is swelling up and the vicodin is kicking in, but I promise to give the full account of my brush with death******* tomorrow, complete with more pictures like this:
* I myself have made no New Years Resolutions. In part because I am too lazy, part because I forgot, part because I believe that you should make positive changes in your life no matter what time of the year it is, and part because I am just so stinking awesome I have no need for change<---Yea, I said that.
** Yes, I got 8/8 auditions from applications. Now instead of getting a friendly PFO in the mail, I have to fly to a foreign city to get rejected. Opera auditions are like the worst case of online dating ever, like the type of crap they would put on To Catch a Predator... "The victim was convinced to fly across the freaking country for a ten minute interview and was never heard from again, because what kind of idiot flies thousands of miles and pays thousands of dollars to get rejected after 10 minutes? The kind of idiot that would fall for an online murder scammer guy!"***
*** I realize that my logic may be flawed here, but it made sense when I started typing and then I got too lazy to delete it and start over. Maybe that should be a resolution, actually go back and edit your work...
**** I refuse to say any more about this man, so don't ask. I'd like to say it is because I protect people's identities on my blog, but really it is because I don't want to give my family any ammunition when they start teasing. Last time I told them I was dating somebody was 6 years ago, and when they found out that he was planning on going into seminary they had my nephews refer to the man as "Uncle Father" for years. (Even though we only dated for months). Teasing is a blood sport in my family, and I have to protect myself!
***** I don't know why I said that. I panicked. I don't have a step-dad. My dad is awesome and has been married to my mom for a really long time. Like, almost twice my age long. (But not really twice my age. Closer to twice my age than half my age, so, twice sounds better).
****** This is Rufus's laser death glare. This is pretty much what I looked like to RY when he was blabbing about my personal brand of cray-cray to one of the last men on Earth who didn't know I was fucking psycho.
*******I just realized that this story better be really good, because nothing fabulous happened in this post. (Besides that dress I'm wearing). <--- Yea, I said that too.
********This has little to do with anything above, except the fact that I think I use too many footnotes, or maybe just too many to continue to use asterisks (astri?). For real though, 8 is a bit much. Maybe in my next post (the last one I write before I die from my face falling off) I will use a number system. But not in chronological order, because that would be hard to remember. Plus, it will be like a game to find the right footnote number.
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