Yech, kind of crummy audition today. I mean, it was okay, but it certainly wasn't the best singing I'd ever done. Breathing in odd places, feeling out-of-body, etc. I have a performance tonight as well (two arias, friendly audience, relatively low stress), after which I will greatly welcome not having to sing for people for a few weeks. Damn, forgot about the wedding next weekend--my voice teacher's. That oughta be fun. Well, at least it's a trio, and I'm the lowest voice so it's a little less to worry about. I really need to get my performance anxiety under control. I'm starting to feel like it's taken over my brain. I will make a doctor's appointment for next week, probably Friday, and maybe he will have some suggestions. I don't think feeling like this is normal, and I'm pretty sure it's chemical, not psychological. I am the queen of rhythmic breathing, after all.

I'm still feeling a bit distracted about my mother's surgery, as well. Just generally out of sorts.

Okay, I really need to eat, now that it's two o'clock. Hey, maybe that's why I feel so crappy! ...

This figure skater totally looks like me—or at least I thought she did last night:



It was freaky. She might look more like me here. She didn’t do so well, but she’s 29, which is geriatric for an Olympic skater...

And in case you haven’t heard, my mother called Saturday night to say she was having “minor surgery” on Monday morning. Apparently a radical hysterectomy is “minor surgery” in my mother’s addled brain. She’s doing fine, but I was pretty anxious about the whole thing--not leastly because I was told (and am still being told) not to come down, and because my father didn’t call me about the outcome of the surgery until seven-thirty at night, almost eight hours after he found out. They don’t want me to worry, but how could I not, the way they’re acting? Parents!

Mark has to go have cocktails with Arthur Sulzberger tonight (the NYT bigwigs are visiting the paper, for the first time in five years), so he will be in Wilm. and I will be alone tonight. I’m thinking Donnie Darko DVD, perhaps some low-carb ice cream? We’ll see what happens.

A long week this has been. Do I sound like Yoda? Perhaps because my ass is dragging. Ugh. Tuesday I had to sing a very scary aria for an opera company in another city--my friend’s the company manager--which was great exposure but unfortunately meant not getting home until midnight and having to work the next day. That and spending all day in the car. Wednesday dress rehearsal, yesterday morning a performance for some extremely disinterested middle-schoolers (in comparison, the other middle-schoolers we’ve performed the show for have been surprisingly involved). I’m about to leave work for a lesson, which gets out just in time for me to hit the worst of the Friday rush hour. I’d rather wait an hour-and-a-half for the traffic to clear up, even if it does make Mark miss me, for some reason.

Damn, I do like to complain! This should be called bitchspot, not blogspot. Whatever! I am happy to be busy, for real, but I just wish I weren’t so exhausted.

In other news, the ultrasound, though a traumatic experience (ladies, there was a probe involved), came up inconclusive. Guess I just need to bite the bullet…