Once again, I am at the public library, and the man on the computer next to me is on a website for Russian mail-order brides. I am so grossed out. It's not that I'm being nosy--I just look up randomly and am assailed with such unreal images... Plus there's always somebody here who REEKS of stale cigarette smoke. I swear I'm not being elitist. I just have a weak stomach. Ick... And on that note: I should probably go home and get started on that pasta (I've been meaning to make wheat pasta for a week now, but I never seem to get around to it).

Okay, so there are these auditions this weekend, but I don't think I'm going to do them. First of all, I just looked at the company's website, and I think I have scheduling conflicts with all their shows. Second, looking at their schedule, I don't think they have any roles for me. Thirdly, the monthly curse, so to speak, is nearly upon me, which is bad for singing for several reasons which I'm sure you will find fascinating:

1. Did you know that your vocal cords retain water? Yep, they're just like any other muscle--except that the very fine muscular control singing requires, and the relatively tiny size of the muscle in question, mean that being bloated actually does affect your voice. I can tell right away when it's started, because for days I'll sound like poo and suddenly I'm completely fine...

2. Apparently pain-relieving medications, because they thin your blood, can occasionally cause vocal cord hemorrhages if you sing too much while you're on them. Now this totally sounds like an old wives' tale--or perhaps an old divas' tale--so I mean to do some research into that. And why wouldn't my voice teacher or my pedagogy teacher (both of whom are very knowledgeable about vocal disorders, mechanics etc.) ever mention this? Anyway, I mean to find out.

Now it reeks of way-too-strong perfume in here--the kind that immediately calls to mind Elizabeth Taylor. My poor olfactory... Oh, hell, that's another hormonal thing--women and their superior senses of smell, etc. Great, I'm like walking progesterone here. Or whatever hormone it is. Hey, maybe that would explain the completely lesbian dream I had last night. Oddly enough, I tend to dream about men when I'm ovulating, and women when I'm menstruating--been like that for years. Damn, they should do a study on me.

Okay, I apologize to my male readership for all the TMI back there. I promise, next post will have nothing to do with Aunt Flo, monthly visitors or being on the rag... :)