The doctor called me back with some test results on Friday, and it appears that I do have insulin resistance, though there's nothing wrong with my thyroid. I have to take medication, but it's supposedly not a big deal. Most of what I've read online about it is incredibly doom-and-gloom ("You're going to get diabetes!") but DUH, I do not have diabetes, and the insulin resistance is completely related to the PCOS (there's conflicting information out there about what causes what). Apparently insulin resistance makes you grumpy, messes with your sleep, and makes it nearly impossible for you to lose weight. (See? Again, not my fault!!) The medication I'm on, coupled with the birth control I started yesterday, should really help with my bizarre abdominal weight, along with all the other problems. No changes in the last three days, of course, but Mark is convinced it will only be a matter of weeks before I start noticing changes. Hooray for my cheerleader. :)

In other news: we visited my parents at the beach this weekend, and came back with a long-promised bread maker that my mother picked up at a garage sale. It's probably been used once. The first loaf should be done in about an hour. Mark is quite excited, but thinks he probably likes the old-fashioned way better. But check it out, with that super-fast yeast, you can make a loaf of bread from scratch in AN HOUR. That's just crazy. We'll stick with the three-hour method for the time being.

Another reunion thought: We should make a drinking game out of it. Do a shot if:

-When asked about their career, someone says, "Well, RIGHT NOW I'm doing..." (thanks to Cathy for her observation)

-Someone shows you pictures of their kids, and it's obvious they each have different parents (is this too crass? It is a drinking game, after all...)

-Someone has been married more than twice (will it be one of our old friends?)

-Someone has been laid off from an IT job

-Someone gives you a business card

-Someone you never got along with gives you a great big hug and acts like you're long-lost sisters

-You see a former bitchy popular girl who's obviously past her prime

-You have a conversation in the bathroom about crow's feet

-You see an old crush/boyfriend (you'll probably need it)

-Someone references pep rallies, school dances, the prom, or anything else that we were too cool to willingly participate in during high school

-If an old friend references some really dumb private joke from 1993 that you've forgotten long ago, and you're expected to remember and relive the fun

-Anyone brings up PLEASURE DOME

Must run to grocery store. I neglected to mention that it's going to be over 100 degrees here until Thursday. I plan on staying inside as much as possible...

So in case you haven't heard via mass e-mail, I got the part anyway! Now I shall reveal that it is Countess Almaviva in Le nozze di Figaro. As in my dream role. As in the role my blog is named after. Remember years ago it was "contessa"? When I came back to Blogger the name was taken--by some chick who liked to write shitty poetry about butterflies, if I remember correctly--so I had to go with "crudele", what the Countess calls the Count while she's guilt-tripping him in the Act II finale. As you can see, this is a big deal for me. Yes, I F-ed up in the audition, but it must not have been as bad as I thought. Granted, the role is double-cast, and I'm in the B cast, but a friend of mine is the A-cast Countess, and she totally deserves it (I saw her audition, and she did really well, plus she's just REALLY talented), so I have no sour grapes at all. Basically I do one performance instead of two, and I probably won't get a review, but honestly I don't really care. I'm doing it, I'm putting it on my resume, and I am going to kick ass. Bring your Kleenex, because I WILL make you cry during "Dove sono". Providing I don't screw it up again. :) No, I won't.

And speaking of long-awaited things finally coming to pass, there's the reunion coming up in exactly a month. No, I won't have lost fifty pounds by then--for what, to make High School Boyfriend jealous and rue the day he let me get away?--but I think I'm doing pretty well in my life. ...I will post more thoughts on the reunion tomorrow...

I know I promised there'd be no more talk about the curse, but I finally got to the doctor and was diagnosed with this. I'd been doing a little research so I kind of suspected it. I have to go on the pill and stuff, no big deal. I was tested for insulin resistance this morning, so maybe I'll have to do some sort of low-carb shit. This I am not happy about. There's nothing really wrong with my diet--portion size, perhaps, and I could cut down on sugar a bit--but we eat pretty well-balanced meals, with plenty of vegetables and everything. They also tested my thyroid. I should find out more on Monday. In any case, it's a total relief to know that gaining twenty-off pounds of abdominal fat is because of hormones, not because I've been wallowing in lard...

In happier news, Mark and I went to Pittsburgh last week for our friends' wedding. It was beautiful, and we had a great time in Pittsburgh. We even got to go to IKEA--the first time for both of us. We bought placemats and pasta bowls and glasses (to replace the cobalt blue ones I bought for him that he finds "unappetizing") and other things we really didn't need--but all at very good prices. We did manage to escape without a china cabinet, which we're starting to shop around for.

By the way, congratulations on your new laptop, Cathy--sounds like you have your hands full. We're going to try to get one in a few weeks (the state has a tax-free weekend once a year before school starts, which includes computers), though we'll probably get a Dell. ("Dude!")

And duh, Helen's moving into her NEW HOUSE! That is the most exciting news. How do you always manage to move in the dead of summer, and always while you're pregnant? ;D No, that was just the last time. I hope you have lots of help from strapping young men and women, who are content to lug all your boxes and keep the girls occupied while you recline six inches from your new air conditioner and are served Rocky Road and fresh-squeezed lemonade by Orlando Bloom. Every pregnant woman's summer fantasy? You tell me. :)

In less-pleasant news, my audition two weeks ago (the 30th) did not go as well as planned. I finally had the scary aria in check--I finally figured out the trick to make it work. I chatted with the auditioners, half of whom knew me already. The recitative went REALLY well--nuanced, dramatically genuine, floaty high A--then the aria started. The accompanist--who I've worked with before in shows--started a little slow, so I tried to speed her up, oversinging in the process. There went the aria. I lost my confidence to get through the freakishly long phrases, and that was it. It didn't go horribly, but I haven't sung that poorly in an audition in eighteen months. All my new technical tricks went out the window in exchange for tense CRAP. So I wasn't pleased. At least this experience was in front of people who know and like me, and want me to do well. And because they trust me implicitly (so say my singer friends) they may take a chance on me with the role anyway. The other thing is, after further research into the roles available for apprentices to cover at Sarasota this season, I don't think I'm going to sing for them in October. There's nothing for me to do! Plus my teacher and I have discussed that I really need to start doing competitions--there are quite a few, most notably the Metropolitan Opera competition which I have never sung for (shock!). And I really need to get myself out there. At this point I need to be heard by the most people possible. In any case, not doing Sarasota would free up my winter to do lots of competitions and auditions--and, notably, sing in the local company's winter show, for which the female role is PERFECT for me. (Plus I'm not scared of the aria at all...) So the other day (at marketing-savvy fellow soprano's suggestion), I e-mailed opera company X's president (who loves me, plus we have similar taste in wine) to let him know that I was now very available for winter productions, being particularly interested in the one show. They haven't made any decisions yet, so we'll see what happens. Wish me luck either way...

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... :)

Since we're sharing recipes, here's another: as you all know, I hate peas with a passion. However, I actually like these split pea burgers, courtesy of my beloved Alton Brown. Who knew?

So now it appears I might have another audition, for another small opera company in town that actually pays people occasionally. Just found out about it, and it's next weekend. Hey, remember a week or so back when I was whining about not having any goals? Well, welcome to my goals. :) Anyway, this company does contemporary American opera, so I need to work up my Britten aria again. (I know, Britten was British, but my American aria has a wicked haahd accompaniment, so unless I'm bringing my own pianist it's not worth the drama.) Had a great lesson this morning, by the way--with some tweaking I should be in good shape for that audition on the 30th.

Oh, and have I mentioned that I've been reading Fast Food Nation? Yeah, like three years after everybody else read it. (Although truthfully I read passages of the book before it was printed, in Rolling Stone. Yeah, that's how long ago it was.) I'm almost done. Mark and I needed to eat dinner at nine-thirty last night, so we drove around town looking for a place that didn't make me twitch involuntarily and cry, "Evil Empire! Evil Empire!" when I saw its glowing sign. :) We ended up at Waffle House--not the healthiest place (though they do sell salads now!), but they're really good about offering benefits to their employees. Plus I got to say, "scattered, smothered and covered" and drank three cups of decaf at ten-thirty at night. I don't know, the whole fast-food thing has me tied in knots. There's a lot to think about. My one criticism of the book is that, Michael Moore-like, he kind of runs with correlational stuff and wacked-out comparisons that lead to visceral, emotional reactions (like comparing Soviet collective agricultural management, which eventually led to the starvation of millions, to the current American agribusiness pseudo-monopoly). It seems like they're trying to beat the conservatives at their own game (distorting the truth a bit for their own benefit), instead of trying to take the high road. Mark gets aggravated by this. And it's my fault for getting him started--that is, I'll read some line from the book and he'll immediately turn devil's advocate. Poor thing. He can't back away from a political argument. My sweet little pundit baby. :)

Per Cathy's request, the avatar generator can be found here.

This weekend we ran errands--finally bought an electric kettle (after like a month of deliberations) and a wedding present for Jeff and Elena. I just found out that that audition I thought would be at the end of July has been moved up to June 30. This is weighing heavily on my mind right now. Otherwise--I have been struck with an urge to rid the house of clutter and excess crap we never use. I am going through all my papers, reorganizing and labeling the contents of my file cabinet--and Saturday night I finally sorted several years of photos and filed them neatly in albums. And there are a bunch of big bags full of Mark's clothes that are going to Goodwill. Spring cleaning in June! Nothing makes me happier than streamlining. Oh. Well, that's not entirely true.

Speaking of housewifery (was I?), I have created a fabulous new recipe for the ice cream maker--banana pudding flavor, made with two packets instant pudding, two cups skim milk, one cup lowfat plain yogurt and lots of love. Very, very rich--and less than fifty calories per half-cup. Even better with chocolate syrup on top... :)

As you can see, I finally found a file I had hiding on the internet that was small enough to add to my profile. Hooray, the cartoon version of me.

Not much going on. I called a bunch of music schools the other day, sending my resume out to a few of them. One person that seemed very interested on the phone runs a "Christian" performing arts school--which at first I thought I was okay with, but apparently they want all the kids to learn "praise and worship music" (i.e that sh!t my mother listens to) and specifically singled out Disney as something they didn't want the kids working on. Hello, what else do you give a nine-year-old?! It's bad enough that they're taking voice lessons in the first place--I have a big philosophical problem with teaching voice to anybody under, say, fourteen, and would basically do more of a music "readiness" thing with younger kids--but then you want them to sing mediocre CRAP?! But honestly, my main discomfort here is that I don't know the repertoire. (And don't want to, obviously.)

Well, it's kicking me off here in the library, but everybody have a good weekend. I owe Helen a phone call! :)

I'm sure none of you will be shocked:

Your Taste in Music:

80's Alternative: Highest Influence

80's Pop: Highest Influence

90's Alternative: Highest Influence

Classic Rock: Highest Influence

Hair Bands: Highest Influence

Progressive Rock: Highest Influence

80's Rock: High Influence

80's R&B: Medium Influence

90's Pop: Medium Influence

90's R&B: Medium Influence

90's Rock: Medium Influence

Old School Hip Hop: Medium Influence

R&B: Medium Influence

Ska: Medium Influence

90's Hip Hop: Low Influence

Adult Alternative: Low Influence

Alternative Rock: Low Influence

Heavy Metal: Low Influence

Punk: Low Influence

How's Your Taste in Music?

And this one seemed fun:
Friends/Numbers meme
Write down 20 names of 20 friends. Then answer the questions below.

1. Mark
2. Helen
3. Cathy
4. Greg
5. Elena
6. Jeff
7. Sandra
8. Rebecca
9. Fritz
10. Summer
11. Sara
12. Amanda
13. Victoria
14. Joanna
15. Christine
16. Erik
17. Jordana
18. Caitlin
19. Brad
20. Stacey


Is #9 a boy or a girl? Boy

Would #1 and #2 make a cute couple? Well, she's taller than he is... ;)

How about #18 and #4? You know, they might...

What grade is #17 in? Umm...25th?

When was the last time you talked to #12? At the wedding.

What is #6's favorite band? Possibly Blondie, maybe U2?

Does #1 have any siblings? Older sister, twin brother, younger brother.

Would you ever date #3? That would be INSANE.

Would you ever date #7? Well, she is into girls, but totally not my type...

What's #15's last name? It has six letters.

What's #10's middle name? Rae.

What's #5's favorite thing to do? Either singing, dancing, shopping or cooking.

Is #13 hot? Very cute.

Would #14 and #19 make a good couple? I don't think we have to worry about that...

What school does #20 go to? She went to college in Cleveland, I believe.

Tell me a random fact about #11: Her husband owns a cake bakery.

And #1: He likes ketchup on his grilled cheese. Nasty!

And #3: She is a recent convert to TiVo.

Have you ever had a crush on #15? No, but she's very fun to be around.

Where does #9 live? On a beautiful lake.

What's #4's favorite color? Green, maybe?

Would you makeout with #14? I don't think she'd appreciate it much.

Are #5 & #6 best friends? They're about to get married, so I would hope so.

Does #7 like #20? They've never met.

Does #8 like #19? I think they'd get along quite well.

How did you meet #2? She was in my sixth-grade class.

How did you meet #18? She was my roommate.

Does #10 have any pets? I don't think so...

Is #12 older than you? She's about 18 months younger.

Is # 17 the sexiest person alive, or what? Tee hee.

(borrowed from Jordana)

Now that I've wasted enough time doing high schooler-produced memes, I can get down to business...Yes Helen, I have posted like three times in a week. Holy crap! This is what happens when I have nothing to do. That's been bugging me, actually. Ever since last August, I have had very specific goals and deadlines in my life, and suddenly I have none. First there was the Fla. audition, then a show, then learning the music for Fla. and preparing for NYC auditions, then three months in Fla., then intensive wedding preparations, then another show. Now I have nothing until the end of July (audition). So this week I've been spending a lot of time looking at new music and stuff, but I feel really aimless. I do need to start looking for a teaching job--I'm going to make a bunch of phone calls Monday. Actually, a friend of mine left me a voicemail the other day about an adjunct teaching position at a state college a few hours away. It would be a good thing if I didn't want to go back to Fla. It seems really permanent to teach at a college--very "I am a teacher, not a singer," and I don't want that. Plus I don't feel ready to teach at that level yet. High schoolers are good for me.

Did I mention that I got the high school reunion paperwork in the mail the other day? It made me go through my yearbook. (And look: one of the people they can't find is Helen's loser ex. Oh, darn, I was really looking forward to seeing him. {sarcasm}) We're still not sure if we're going yet--it'll depend on money--but it would be fun. Ha ha, we don't live in trailer parks in Bloomingburg with our parents and our four children of varying paternity...

I just read in the SUNY-B alumni newsletter that tarte cosmetics was created by a fellow alum. Cool company philosophy, paired with fun products! And it's all available at Sephora. Maybe I'll visit tomorrow. I have purposely avoided entering the Sephora in my local mall, intuiting that I would not have the willpower to leave without spending vast amounts of cash. But I had to buy some gel eyeliner for the apprentice program, so last November I dared to enter. I later explained the experience this way to Mark: "You know that scene in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory when they enter the candy garden? Well, it's a lot like that, except it's makeup and perfume and candles and stuff..." And guess what? I left the store with some excellent Stila gel liner and nothing else. So maybe I can handle it. :)

The weekend of shows went well--we got terrible, vindictive reviews (well, I didn't--I suppose my part was too small for them to think of anything nasty to say, though both reviewers said I was a mezzo so they must not have even LOOKED at my bio) which we were all extremely pissed about, but considering how tumultuous the production was I'd say we did really well. My next step: work on that role I'm supposedly being considered for, get my "five" (arias, for auditons) worked out for next fall, and eek! get a job, somehow. My first step is to call up all the community music schools in the county and see if they have any openings for teachers. If that doesn't work, well, I may have to get a part-time day job--which I suppose wouldn't be that bad, but my resume overqualifies me for everything, plus I haven't had a steady office job in like, twenty months. I'm not sure how it will all work out. Maybe I should just get a job at Sephora. Dangerous...

So turns out the girl I was supposed to be covering didn't really want the role in the first place (she's mad, by the way. At six-two and buxom she's not going to be singing Carmen--at least not in this country, where appearance matters much and she'll be at least six inches taller than all the tenors. Sidebar), so I myself am singing the Mrs. Kravitz-inspiring character mezzo role. And having a good time with it, I might add. Our first performance (open dress rehearsal) was last night. This production has been rife with complications--numerous principals backing out at the last minute, injuries, delays getting on the set and acquiring props, a director (who I know from a previous gig which shall remain nameless) who's good at his job but can be prickly... But all in all it's been a good experience. Hell, I just like being on stage. And supposedly I'm being heavily considered for a huge role in the company's fall show. (Still have to audition, of course--still have to get through the SCARY second aria, which looks so easy on paper but is full of peril...) More details when it gets closer--I don't think they're even having auditions until early August. So things are good.

Married life is fine, by the way. We've both been a little grumpy lately--I've been sleeping poorly, and having rehearsal every night means we don't get to see each other in the evening, so things can get a little tense sometimes. Nothing a little fresh homemade strawberry frozen yogurt can't fix!

Oh, and before I forget--we saw Revenge of the Sith last Saturday night. There were some truly awesome moments. I think if you go in with the proper expectations--e.g. the dialogue is going to suck--it can be a thrilling experience. Mark read somewhere that the screenplay was heavily edited by Tom Stoppard. Comments?

p.s. I've put up some pictures from Florida on my singer site--but I haven't linked to the page or labeled them yet, plus I want to double-check with the people in them that it's okay. But Giulietta and Butterfly are definitely staying up!

God, I am such a slackass! I go to the library a few times a week (so I can actually type and view pictures and other things which are impossible on my ancient computer with dialup and a temperamental spacebar) and I always open up Blogger to create a new post, then find I have nothing interesting to write about. Which isn't entirely true--I just feel unmotivated, I guess.

For those of you who weren't there, the wedding was a success--everybody seemed to have a good time and we were relaxed enough to enjoy the day. Unfortunately I had a nasty cold which left me completely hoarse for the wedding, the honeymoon and the following week. So I was finally better for about a week when Mark got sick (presumably from work). And this morning I woke up with the telltale sore palate/postnasal thing. Wonderful. Especially with this show going on. Oh, yeah, I'm singing in the chorus for this local show--our rehearsals start tonight--but about ten days ago the artistic director of the company asked me to cover this small part--another dramatic mezzo thing which I'll probably never sing again--so I've been working on learning that as well. And my first lesson in FIVE MONTHS is Thursday. I have been needing one so desperately. We're going out to lunch first to get all the talking part out of the way. And all this hinges upon whether I am actually sick, or if this is just allergies. I'm not taking any chances--I've just washed all the bedding, and one of us may take the couch tonight (DAMN! forgot to buy Lysol). I am NOT getting sick again--this would be the third time in six weeks, which leads me to believe that it's some really bad bacterial thing. Luckily I have insurance now (!!!!!!!)--though I haven't gotten my card yet--so if I wake up tomorrow completely stuffed up I am immediately making an appointment. Mark is headed to the doctor tomorrow anyway...

Enough about being sick! I get a little obsessive... Anyway, so we went to Cancun for the honeymoon. None of the pictures do it justice--the water is really Kool-Aid turquoise. We spent most days at the resort, sitting by the pool/beach and drinking daiquiris, though we did spend a morning in downtown Cancun. And we took a looong bus ride to Chichen-Itza--but it was worth it. We climbed that famous pyramid. Which was scary, actually--the steps are really steep, so most people crawl down on their butts (including us). But it was really cool. And our hotel room was nice, too--fantastic view AND a whirlpool tub. And the food was pretty good--though we were starting to get sick of it. Breakfast was definitely the best meal.

Comments are back! Sorry, they got lost in the new template circus. I'll put my sexy succubus Giulietta picture up as soon as I get everything scanned. Though at this rate that may not be until after Cancun...

We spent a lovely weekend watching documentaries from Netflix (Mark's latest obsession), baking bread, finishing and assembling the ceremony programs (cute!) and discussing how INSANE my mother is.

Not much else to report, in all honesty. Just kinda running around, tying up loose ends...

My birthday was uneventful...

Twenty-eight! Late twenties! Have traded in (most of) my chunky shoes! Use a "firming cream" twice daily on my "delicate eye area" (mostly because of the hell I put it through during shows, but nevertheless) and an alcohol-free toner! Getting married in eight days! Extremely excited about wine glasses and Kitchen Aid Artisan Stand Mixers in Empire Red! Starting to worry about my parents' health (okay, that started last year, but whatever)! Beginning to think about thinking about starting a family (but still extremely excited that my monthly friend will leave the day before the wedding)! Enjoy watching cooking shows (if only because I am strangely attracted to the nerdy, anal-retentive, pop culture-spouting, possibly closeted host)! Spent several hours winding yarn the other day!...

How else am I "old"? The Jim Morrison poster came down in, like, 1997... No, I don't actually feel old. Just needed to get that out of my system a bit.

/rant

...Anyway, it was uneventful. Monday night was fun, though--Mark and I bought some wine to taste for the reception, and ended up splitting a bottle of champagne (wouldn't want it to go flat). It was kind of silly. So we're currently in full-steam-ahead mode, sending out thank-you notes and working up the programs. My current drama is that the church doesn't have a real organ--just some sort of MIDI contraption, which pisses me off, but anyway--and the "organist" isn't sure one of the pieces will work (a critical piece--the duet from the Bach cantata, to be performed during the Eucharist) because it has running 32nd notes originally scored for a violin and he wonders whether this keyboard-thing can handle it. So I have a call out to the church's music director to see if they have an actual piano. Drama!

Sidebar: I ought to comment on the Pope thing. He died during my bridal shower Saturday, as many of you know... It's sad, but he was old and sick, and is surely happier where he is now. As all are well aware, I've never been one for authority figures, religious or otherwise (save Bill Clinton, perhaps--though not in a Monica Lewinski-type way), but as far as popes go he wasn't too bad, honestly. I just hope the next guy wakes up about contraception and a permanent female diaconate--if not, sensible Catholics will just continue practicing what we think is right, versus what some old guy tells us is right.

Here I am! I was so prepared to start blogging every day again when I got home, but I forgot about the little matter of the spacebar on my keyboard not working... oh, well.

So it's been over three months since I've actually posted a substantive entry. I hardly know where to begin, but many of you are already up-to-date on my latest highs and lows, so I'll be brief. Sarasota was fabulous--learned a lot, sang a hell of a lot, escaped with most of my sanity. And while there was some big drama (if you don't know about it already, all the better), I think on the whole my experience there will make me a stronger person as well as a stronger artist. And the wedding planning is in its final stages--twelve days until the big day, and I've managed to restrain myself from throttling my mother. Though there were some close calls... We're really looking forward to it, though. It looks like we'll have about eighty-five people (fewer than we thought, but no biggie), the food and music will be great, the service will be beautiful and we're going to Cancun for five days. Oh, and I'm marrying the best person I've ever met. Hooray for me!

Next step for me: buy bridesmaid gifts and pantyhose.

Oh, and this is from Jord--just to remind me of my high school boyfriend...

Psionicist You scored 50 Holy, 57 Tactful, 80 Natural, and 60 Arcane!

Your eye flutters for a second and the world loses focus... when clarity returns you realize that the only person in the room who wasn't knocked unconscious is holding his temples and writhing on the ground. Nobody knows what you just did, even you, but you know it happened because you made it happen. You have taught reality that your desires are more important than it's fickle laws (or you can, rather). You are one of the rare psionicists, the masters of mind over matter. Your approach to problems is a rare blend of intuition, force of personality, and careful planning. You're all right in a fight, but can really hold your own only once you've stacked the laws of this universe on your side. Thankfully, with practice, you can do this with ease. Hmm, my guess is that you're a bit lacking ethically speaking however... just a guess though, creep.

My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender: You scored higher than 64% on Godliness You scored higher than 65% on Tact You scored higher than 80% on Harmony You scored higher than 79% on Arcane

Link: The Which D & D Class am I Test written by effataigus on OkCupid Online Dating

Just in case you were wondering, I'm in Florida and don't usually have the time or access required to update my blog. We are kept very busy--and hooray, I'm learning a lot. Anyway, I wanted to let everyone know that things are generally fine, though I do miss Mark terribly. He's coming down in a few weeks--hooray!

I'm back! Two weeks is a long time to go without sleeping in your own bed, but I guess I'd better get used to it... The auditions went okay (except when I came in early on two entrances in this one aria--I don't know if somebody would notice unless they knew the aria encyclopedically, plus it's modern anyway--but it probably killed my chances with this particular company, which makes me very mad because I was singing really well), and I was able to visit just about everybody I wanted to see. I even got up to my alma mater and had coffee with an old professor.

But now I have a lot of work to do. Still lots of music to get memorized, packing to do, some presents left to buy/make. And we're supposed to be having a Christmas party, but Mark has been dragging on it. Speaking of Mark, he's having car problems again. Not good...

Very tired. Leaving for NYC trip tomorrow. I will definitely see at least one of you! I'll be back sometime after December 11th, and probably will not be able to post until after then. Love you all! Hope you had a great Thanksgiving!

A poem, submitted for your approval:

One reason I like opera
Marge Piercy

In movies, you can tell the heroine
because she is blonder and thinner
than her sidekick. The villainess
is darkest. If a woman is fat,
she is a joke and will probably die.

In movies, the blondest are the best
and in bleaching lies not only purity
but victory. If two people are both
extra pretty, they will end up
in the final clinch.

Only the flawless in face and body
win. That is why I treat
movies as less interesting
than comic books. The camera
is stupid. It sucks surfaces.

Let's go to the opera instead.
The heroine is fifty and weighs
as much as a '65 Chevvie with fins.
She could crack your jaw in her fist.
She can hit high C lying down.

The tenor the women scream for
wolfs an eight course meal daily.
He resembles a bull on hind legs.
His thighs are the size of beer kegs.
His chest is a redwood with hair.

Their voices twine, golden serpents.
Their voices rise like the best
fireworks and hang and hang
then drift slowly down descending
in brilliant and still fiery sparks.

The hippopotamus baritone (the villain)
has a voice that could give you
an orgasm right in your seat.
His voice smokes with passion.
He is hot as lava. He erupts nightly.

The contralto is, however, svelte.
She is supposed to be the soprano's
mother, but is ten years younger,
beautiful and black. Nobody cares.
She sings you into her womb where you rock.


Yay.

This is way more entertaining than it ought to be...

Blogger has been eating my posts. What the hell?!

Okay, I don't have much time, but I must vent about my mother. She called earlier and somehow managed to work the word "bow-dabra" into our conversation. Haven't had the chance to Google that yet, but apparently it's some sort of bow-making device that she's secretly coveted for years, and now she wants to buy one to decorate the cake table. Twenty minutes about flowers. How many times do I have to say that I don't give a flying crap about the damn flowers?!

Oh, well, if it's taken me this long to get exasperated with my mother in this process, I guess I'm not doing so bad...