Since posting videos is all the rage, here is a funny one about MacGyver saving the cast of Lost.

I have more to say about Cio-Cio-San--the audition process was not so smooth as originally anticipated--but the kitchen is crying to be cleaned, so I'm thinking tomorrow.

It's finalized at last: I will be singing the lead in Madama Butterfly this fall. It's extremely exciting, but at the same time kind of scary. Long role, dramatically very demanding (yay, eighteen-year-old geisha mommy who kills herself), vocally challenging (but it's actually my fach--for once I'm actually singing something I'm supposed to be singing!), lots of historical comparisons to be made (eg. Callas, Tebaldi, Freni). I need to keep in mind that I'm twenty-nine, and cannot be expected to be as good as a forty-year-old native Italian superstar. I can only be my personal best. And I will do my damndest at that...

Hello, my name is Jennifer, and I am a slackass...

Great, now if somebody Googles the word "slackass", my blog will come up. Hell, I could use some readers, I suppose.

Speaking of Googling things, I've learned of a new fun Google game: if you search "[your name] needs", all sorts of cool stuff comes up. Most of mine concerned J.Lo and Jennifer Aniston. Though I suppose most of Helen's would concern old ladies on some heart transplant list (LOL!), and Cathy's would be from some lousy Wuthering Heights term paper available for purchase by desperate eleventh-graders. Give it a shot, though.

Feeling a bit sassy today, though I am also very tired. I didn't sleep well last night (how could I, kein boo? she snickered), and my neck is really killing me today. Part of the issue is that I've decided to try taking the originally-prescribed amount of metformin (rather than the half-dose I've been taking since October). The GYN told me I could go back on the full dose if/when I wanted, so I thought I'd give it a try. My weight loss has stalled, after all. I think it's going okay, but I have been crazy lethargic since Monday. Hitting the coffee and everything. Wow, I'm like, a normal person now.

And in Lexapro news...well, Mark seems to think it's made a difference, but I'm not sure yet. The (other) doctor has me on a full 10 mg now. I really don't feel any different. It may be making me break out, though, which I definitely don't like. I had to sing this incredibly difficult trio at a gala on Saturday night, and I was slightly less anxious than usual (i.e. no nausea, but I still couldn't eat and had to dose with Imodium beforehand), but I think that was mostly because two of my good friends were there, so I was distracted and in a supportive environment.

Oh, and in audition news, my big (albeit predetermined) audition is on Sunday. Several friends will be in town for the auditions as well, so it will be a sushi night culminating in sake back at the house. I don't recall liking sake (but plum wine...yummm), but our friends gave it to us as a wedding present, with the promise that we would enjoy it together, so down the hatch we will go. I'm trying not to be nervous about the audition--hell, it's basically been a done deal since November--but I still feel the need to prove to the dear AD that I can sing the hell out of it.

Oh, and in happy news, congrats to Stacey (if she's out there) for scoring the lead in AIDA in February! You go girl! :)

We do like her cookbook, but have also developed our own drinking games for her shows (e.g. do a shot every time she says something like "Yum-O!" or leaves a dollar tip)...

Which Food Network Personality are you?

You are RACHEL RAY, host of "$40 a Day" and "30-Minute Meals". You're zany, just a little bit dorky, but you know your stuff. You show quick and easy meals that dont break your budget. You also love to travel, and hunt for the most fun and the best deals. You obviously love having fun and love showing others how to have fun. Youre adventurous and happy-go-lucky, yet way frugal and thrifty. Good job!
Take this quiz!








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It has been ages since I've posted a dumbass quiz:

Your results:
You are Spider-Man

Spider-Man 70% Superman 60% Hulk 60% Green Lantern 60% Iron Man 60% Supergirl 55% Wonder Woman 55% Catwoman 50% Robin 47% Batman 45% The Flash 40%

You are intelligent, witty, a bit geeky and have great power and responsibility.

Click here to take the Superhero Personality Quiz


Things here are okay. The birthday went pretty well, though I was up all night after eating goat curry mixed with ice cream cake. (Ugh.) I haven't been sleeping well in general--I wake up every night at about 4 AM, and there are nights I can't get back to sleep. If I do actually get back to sleep, I still wake up several more times before I'm actually supposed to. As it is, my sleep is very disrupted. I've tried taking several things, but nothing seems to keep me from waking up. I think exercising helps this--I just need to get motivated.

The state lottery starts tomorrow, after a lot of (mostly stupid) controversy, so Mark is down at the home paper covering in-town stuff. That means I'm on my own for the next two days. Among other things--continual laundry processing, cleaning the kitchen (which is Mark's job but he ran out of time), home pedicure--I have a two-DVD set of Die Walkuere that we got from NetFlix two weeks ago that I just haven't been able to bring myself to watch. Tonight's the night! Six o'clock will find me settling in with frozen pizza, snacks and tea to watch the marathon. I'm not quite sure how long it is--certainly over three hours. As if I have to be tortured to watch a Wagner opera...

In other news, we are almost definitely going up to DC on Easter/Anniversary weekend. More details to follow.

sI just realized how ungrateful I sounded in that last post. Um, hello, I get to perform, and people pay to see me... But I was just gettting really frustrated. The show actually went okay--whether that's because things actually did turn the corner, or because I just got really Zen about it, is anybody's guess. I did have a blast going out after the opening performance--gay bar, drag show, IHOP, coming home at three in the morning reeking of smoke. It was a nice way to blow off some steam.

Last week my beloved car broke down--it was a really minor issue (and luckily cheap to fix), but she was out of commission for three days so I had to take the bus home from work and depend on Mark for transportation. And now the driver's side door handle has completely broken off, so I have to open the door from the inside while sitting in the back seat. We're planning to visit my parents this weekend, partly to get the handle replaced and partly so I can use my mother's sewing machine. :) She is doing well, apparently, but I haven't seen her since the surgery so it will be good to go down there.

So things are slowing down a bit, but there are piles of laundry to do (this afternoon, promise!) and I'm working on some new music. We also just found out that Mark's brother and his wife are expecting their second baby in October, so I worked up this adorable hooded baby sweater. I wish I had thought to make it for Suli! Anyway, the craftiness rolls on. Mark has been thinking about getting into model ship building, in fact. Apparently I am rubbing off on him...

sSo the show goes up on Friday (with a high-school audience for tomorrow’s dress rehearsal), and I will be happy when it’s over. This production has been nothing but aggravation for me. To fill in: I’m understudying the female lead in this short opera, and I promised the heads of the company that I would sing in the chorus because the music’s crazy hard and I’d performed it in Florida last year. After the first chorus rehearsal I decided the music was just too high for me (it was a year ago, too, but I was getting paid to sing it-big difference), and I called the artistic director to let him know I couldn’t do it. Well, two chorus rehearsals later it became clear that they needed me, for the sake of the show. So I said I would do it, as long as I could take it easy with the high stuff during rehearsals. It has been a painful experience. Most of the chorus is new to the company (apparently new to opera as well) and they’re not the best musicians or too quick at learning music. Even as of last night the musical entrances are still not there. I feel like I’m carrying the whole thing--not leastly because everybody keeps telling me that I’m carrying the whole thing. It’s quite stressful.

Add to that the frustration of being an understudy. I’ve never actually done it before now, and I’m really just doing it to put on my resume and because I really like the show (my voice is a little big for it, though I could certainly perform it). So day in and day out, during musical and staging rehearsals, I’ve been on the sidelines, taking copious notes and doing what I can to help. Both of the leads are nice girls, but (a) I doubt they’ll be heard over the small orchestra in the small auditorium, and (b) they both have some technical problems. Oh, and the one girl still doesn’t know all her words, let alone what they actually mean. Yeah, that makes me feel great about being the understudy. Even when I knew I’d have almost no chance of singing the role, I made sure I knew all the music by the first rehearsal. This is just something you do as a professional. You really need to be off book by the first rehearsal-and if not, then certainly by the time you do any staging. How are you supposed to learn staging if you’re still carrying around your score and don’t know what you’re singing about?!

And I do know that I’m appreciated, it’s not that. At a marathon chorus rehearsal this Saturday, I got to sing the end of the opera-this cool, dramatic screaming part--about seven times for the chorus to learn their parts there. Everyone liked it-the director especially (who I know well from Figaro last fall). So at least I’m respected...

Anyway, I’m getting off my little soapbox. Friday night after opening the director and the costume designer and I are going out for a few drinks. I need it!

And the winner is (drumroll): Lexapro! The doctor prescribed the tiniest amount (half a pill a day), which is half the amount used in the studies I've read about. And people on the singer forum seem to think it's a good option as well. I have a followup in April to see how things are working. I hope this is the solution, but I know how hard it is to work out the meds...

My mother's birthday was yesterday--she's doing rather well, and even got to her church activities on Monday. No driving, of course, since she's on Oxycontin or something. Everybody break into my parents' house! You can even score some Flexeril! ;p

How many brand-name medications can I bring up in one post??

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…

Good news from the doctor! Completely unaware, I have lost fifteen pounds in the last six months, despite going up like, two bra sizes. HOORAY! And I did it all without going on some emotionally damaging diet or crazy exercise regimen. I know I need to get even more conscientious about what I eat--less refined carbohydrates, more vegetables--but I think we're all in that camp, hmm? And exercise is way important; I just want to find something I actually like to do, so I'll stick with it for the long haul. I have been doing yoga, which is good but not aerobic (in its purer forms, which are the ones I like). So I still have stuff to work on, but it appears the medications and the minor adjustments have really helped! Maybe I'll lick this thing after all.

On the other hand, I still have lots of pain during S-E-X, so I'm scheduled for an ultrasound on Friday to rule out this. Luckily the medication I'm on also can treat that. It appears C. and I are sisters of the moon, or something equally cheesy. :)

GYN couldn't help me with the anxiety problems, though, feeling she wasn't well acquainted enough with the drugs, etc. Looks like I will have to see my general practitioner about that--I will wait until after the ultrasound results come back.

On a random note, today I saw a pickup truck with airbrushed Rastafarian pictures and a Star of David. What the hell?! Some goofy frat boy, perhaps?

Been a busy little bee lately. My part-time job has turned into 24 hours a week, and we started rehearsals for the outreach opera again last night--though I'll only have two more before a performance on Feb. 9. I'm working on the green sweater again, though I decided against the hoodie in favor of a cute off-the-shoulder number (that's like my favorite website, too, by the way). I'm almost done, I think.

I'm also trying to learn a shitload of new music--Pagliacci rehearsals start in a month, and though I have a feeling I won't be called upon to cover, I will certainly be ready. Ooh, marital infidelity and spousal abuse! The opera does run a bit like a Lifetime movie. Or Maury. Anyway, I'm also starting to work on this other role, which I'm not allowed to talk about because, well, I've been precast. Let's just say it's the title character in an immensely famous opera, and it's actually my voice type, unlike all the other stuff I end up singing. I've known about it since November, actually, but I'm still excited--and humbled. All the greats have sung this, famously, and there will be comparisons made. And it's very challenging dramatically. So I've been working on the famous aria (which, despite its fame, only has a few touchy spots) and will bring that to my lesson tomorrow (which is also a little scary). Provided that goes well, I'll be singing the aria two weeks from now for a dinner held by another opera company who's also doing this opera next year. Play my cards right and they might let me cover. And they pay. So I guess things are going well.

Also--doctor's appointment next Monday. Paxil? Welbutrin? Anyone care to place bets? :)

It was kind of cavalier of me to drop that bomb in my previous two posts, then not blog for weeks... There were the holidays (fine), then a quick show (very small role, but I got to perform with the state symphony, which was definitely worth it), then a competition last Saturday--plus I've been working more hours lately.

As for the competition: this is a famous national competition that I'd never done before. In fact, one of the reasons I didn't audition to go back to Florida is that I felt it important to sing in this. Somehow I got my hopes up that I would win something, despite the fact that they rarely choose anyone over 25. (They're morons, by the way--most of the people they choose can't cut it at that level because they're too damn young.) At least I was hoping for some useful feedback from the judges; not much of that either. In fact, one of the judges told me I had the beginnings of a wobble because of lousy breathing and that I needed to take care of it immediately if I had any desire to continue singing. Um, no, I don't have a wobble, asshole, and any vibrato problems I have (just below the passaggio, I know) are resonance issues, not breathing issues. He made me really mad. The other judges were more positive, but their criticism was stuff I'd already heard before: do more dramatically (I really need dramatic coachings--good luck in this state!), watch below the passaggio... So it seems kind of like a big-ass waste of time. I was, however, able to make at least two connections with opera companies in the state who seem eager to meet with me. And honestly, that's a lot more important in the long run than winning some competition. I think.

Anyway, as far as the previous posts: things are a bit better, but... I don't know, I just haven't felt like myself for months. Tired all the time (even when I can sleep), very moody, bored as hell at work--not to mention barely able to make it through the day blood sugar-wise (at least that's what I think it is), insane back and shoulder tension. I keep dwelling on uncomfortable things (see last post). My stomach goes nuts every time I have to sing--I can't even look at food, and have to dose myself with Imodium and Gas-X two days in advance. I'm even starting to get headaches, which I've never had a problem with before. Who knows what the hell is wrong with me now... I have a doctor's appointment in two weeks, thankfully, so I need to remember to write down everything. I don't know if it's just because of the medication (I think not), or if I need to be on anti-anxiety medication... I do research on the computer, but there's so much conflicting information out there, plus I know not to trust much of it.

And believe me, I know I don't have much to complain about. It just shouldn't be so hard for me to get through the day, you know?

In happier news, I have finally finished a sweater I've been working on for Mark--only after redoing one of the arms three times because it kept coming out eight inches too long. Turns out I was making that one correctly, and the sleeve that fit had a mistake in it. He doesn't have crazy short arms or anything--just weird. Also, I got a really good haircut the other day.

Continuing yesterday's post...

But first, before I forget: I caught part of PRETTY WOMAN last night, which I haven't seen for a long time. (I only wanted to watch up until the "Pretty Woman" montage when she goes back into the store where the mean women refused to wait on her and she holds up her shopping bags and goes, "BIG mistake! HUGE!") Did it ever occur to anyone that this movie is beyond creepy? I mean, it's totally disgusting. He's having sex with a hooker on the piano in the hotel ballroom. This is not ROMANTIC, it's NASTY. Ew.

So we were on to the deconstruction. All I have are questions. Why did I need to bring this up anyway? Why am I still obsessing about this particularly horrible thing? Why did I feel the need to sabotage my marriage? I'm certainly no stranger to self-destructive behavior. That weird dark fog-head buzzing thing seems to happen whenever I do something irrational and hurtful to myself: during all the bulimic and binging episodes, when I slept with Dave the racist pothead... Come to think of it, that's how my head felt when I had that panic attack during my first try at grad school--the time when I was convinced breaking my arm with a hammer or overdosing on Advil were viable ways to get out of writing my prospectus on the influence of traditional British folk music on Jethro Tull. What the hell? Is this like my Dead Zone or something, except instead of seeing the future I make really horrible decisions? Is there something really wrong with me? I don't know what to think about this.

And while I'm sure it's completely natural to think about something like this from time to time--and I'm not trying to get off the hook, believe me--how healthy is it for it to still be haunting me ten months later? It's with me every day--this reminder that "I am a bad person who doesn't deserve Mark." It even came up during the wedding ceremony, which was supposed to be the happiest time of my life. While I was putting on Mark's ring, saying some jazz about it being a sign of my fidelity, did anybody notice how vehement and fierce I was? I was trying to convince him and God and myself that it would never, ever happen again. As if there were even a CHANCE. As if I would ever hurt him like that in a normal situation. But can I trust myself? There's this other singer in town here who I've done a few shows with, and I'm kind of attracted to him. I've found myself deliberately avoiding him in case I felt tempted. But I'm NOT. It's so fucked up. I feel like I can't trust myself anymore, even though Mark trusts me implicitly. He was able to blame 95 percent of this on the guy, and five percent on me for being lonely or sowing my oats or something. And part of me knows this is completely true--part of me knows it was just out of desperation and rebellion or something--but part of me isn't convinced. Part of me is convinced that I'm just a horrible person, that I don't deserve a happy life, and that I will make out with the first willing warm body that crosses my path the minute Mark's out of the room. So repentance I understand, but self-flagellation seems a bit much.

So what do I do? I can't talk to Mark about it, because it's just about me being crazy and I don't want to upset him. Do I need meds? All I know is every day I look down at Mark and think of how lucky I am, and how stupid I was, and how undeserving of his trust I am. No wonder I feel so stressed, and have trouble sleeping, and am tired all the time. (I mean, besides the defective ovaries and everything.) I just don't know what to do, and am open to all ideas. Including those from lurkers, unless you're just spamming me.

On a happier note, it's almost Christmas. Oh, and the party this weekend went really well--my grandfather's wine was a particular hit. I poured it into empty bottles and created labels that said "Avozinho [Grandpa] Red 2004". Very amusing.

I have a lot on my mind, so this may be a long post. Or I may come back to it later, as my battery is set to run out in about an hour. Plus, how long can I sit in Panera?

There is one topic which I have never spoken of on my blog. Well, I'm sure there's more than one, but there's a topic which I have purposely avoided. I'm perfectly willing to talk about the ins and outs of my reproductive problems, my sex life, my crazy mother, but I haven't brought this up so far because 1. it's a bigass can of worms, 2. it makes me look like a bad person, and 3. I thought not talking about it would make it go away. This very scary subject, with which those of you in the know are undoubtedly familiar, is what happened last February in Florida. Basically, well, I cheated on Mark. There, I said it. I didn't sleep with the guy (how I will refer to him), we just kissed (and I let him feel me up) for approximately two minutes. I told Mark two days later (the most horrible phone conversation of my entire LIFE), he forgave me, I went to Confession the next day, all is well, right? NO. I mean, there's a lot more to it than just "I cheated on Mark".

First of all, the guy had been sexually harrassing me since Day One. Seriously. Grabbing me from behind and telling me how much he'd "love to get [me] naked...if I weren't engaged." Among other things. Seriously inappropriate stuff. And I certainly would've reported him to our program director if it had happened at the opera house (this particular comment was after hours, at the local sports bar). I didn't think that things that happened off-site would count--later, when I checked my contract, I learned that they certainly DID count. And I did report him, after the fact. More on that later. Anyway, I also thought that, as a modern, empowered woman, I could handle this on my own with a few stern words. And the night after the "get me naked" comment I did say something to him--which he basically tossed off. (Should've been my first clue.) Did I mention that this guy was totally slimy and completely NOT my type? All he had going for him was a thick head of hair. He's not even a particularly good singer.

Back on topic: So I thought that expressing my disapproval would change his behavior, but of course it didn't. I guess I just got complacent. Then it became flattering, and I started flirting with him--innocently, I thought. Mark and I had been together for so long, I guess it was just nice to get some different male attention. (So much for being a "modern, empowered woman".) It didn't help that we were together all the time--not only were we a married couple in one of the operas, but we had a particularly steamy scene together in the apprentice scene performances. (G-rated, I suppose, but with lots of subtext.) It'd be nice to blame it on the scene, but that wouldn't work, either. Anyway, one day when I was practicing alone I realized that the scene had been staged without any kissing, but it really required at least two (the scenes programs with this company tend to be particularly chaste--in fact, I think the artistic director even prohibits onstage cleavage for the apprentices, in scenes and in the mainstage choruses--which must be why the obvious kiss moments were staged differently). One day I mentioned this to the guy in conversation, and we decided to work the love scene out with the kissing added. At the time, it seemed important for the energy of the scene. I still feel that way, honestly (if only it had been with someone else!). This was supposed to happen at the opera house, in an empty rehearsal room, but when the time came there were no spare rooms. So we ended up getting together in his bedroom. (Bad idea, of course, but I suppose I was under his thrall--and I was dead set against him ever entering my bedroom. This should've tipped me off that something was wrong.) Anyway, this extra practice session, if you will, went okay, though I did get carried away a bit. I chalked it up to my lack of experience with stage kissing. (I've only had one official one so far--with a woman, in fact--and I was nervous about it but it went okay. I have tended to have very G-rated opera directors--my high school musical director put at least a dozen kisses in one scene in OKLAHOMA!, which thank God I didn't have to do with Jason P---zelski, ugh!) I think separating fiction and reality can be difficult with something so seemingly intimate. But I thought I was cool with it. I even told Mark about it beforehand, and he was wary (I had mentioned the guy before, and he didn't like what he heard) but okay with it. He trusted me, and I ought to have been deserving of his trust.

This happened to take place about two days before Mark came down to visit. The visit was wonderful--though he did order me the wrong sandwich at Subway, which brought on a temper tantrum from me (why do I remember this?)--and when I saw him off at the airport (on a Tuesday morning) I remember thinking how I could certainly manage to survive the next five weeks before I saw him again. (It had been a rough time before he came--almost two months apart!--and I spent a lot of time pining. Or drinking. Sometimes at the same time. :>) Then the next day I made this joke at the guy's expense--there was something about an ugly-ass blonde wig on a Latino that I just couldn't handle--and I jokingly asked if I could make it up to him somehow. One of us suggested (I can't even remember who, months later) that he be allowed to touch my ass as consolation. So that happened, and I did let it go too far. I can't describe what was going through my head at the time. Probably nothing. Someone was having a birthday that night, so there was a customary cake/beer consumption going on. It's hard to explain what I was feeling--I felt like everything was dark around the edges, kind of like right before you faint, but I felt this weird energy and a constant humming in my head. I don't remember what my thought process was, but whatever demon was in my brain made me call the guy over and tell him, "I'll give you two minutes." We went to his bedroom, we kissed, I let him feel me up but stopped everything else, all the while looking at my watch. Then I stopped and left. I didn't call Mark that night--I guess I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what to think. I didn't feel guilty yet; I was just really confused. The next day I regretted it, and asked a few people I trusted what I should do. I had to tell him right away, I realized, and called him before the Friday night performance. And again after the performance, for a total of about four hours. We cried, I hyperventilated. He wanted a blow-by-blow description of what exactly happened. I couldn't even give that to him. "I'll give you two minutes"? How could I tell him that I'd said that?! It was impossible. How Mark was able to remain mostly rational I'll never know. He came out with these matter-of-fact statements like, "Well, I'm sure all married couples face things like this, but I didn't think it would be so soon..." He acknowledged that the guy was "an evil fucker" (his exact words!), and that I needed to report him. Don't get me wrong, he got very upset at times (I'll never forget when he said, sobbing, "You went to his BEDROOM?! With my ENGAGEMENT RING on?!" That's what sticks with me the most...) but he was much more rational than I was. He was the one who said I should go to Confession the next morning. The worst part of it all was that I still needed to work with the guy (oh, did I mention, by the way, that I also had to perform both of my apprentice scenes the next morning, including the one with the guy? Great timing.), so I needed to tell him that our relationship would be just professional, period.

So the next morning I went to Confession (I'll also never forget the cute little Polish priest saying, "But is that not the sexual harrassment? Next time he try something, you slap him."), which made me feel better (laugh all you want, I'm apparently Catholic to the core). I spoke to our program director after the scene performances (the most serious I ever saw him), emphasizing that what had happened was consensual, but I wanted to let the company know for the future. Then I had to talk to the guy. He got pissy, as Mark predicted, saying that I was the one who initiated it, etc., but I basically told him that I didn't care who started it, but it was over and as we had to see each other for the next month we would keep things professional, that's it. Then I walked away and got upset, because I hate being yelled at. I cried a lot that weekend.

So that's the part of the story that the select few know. Here's the part that nobody else knows. In order to avoid the guy, I had to avoid almost all social interaction (very difficult). One night when I was in bed he and his, um, female companion came to talk to my roommate; just hearing his voice was enough to provoke a nightmare where I dreamed he came into my bedroom. This was not working. So I made up with him, sort of. One night, as he was getting his wig put on, I came up to him and said that avoiding him wasn't working, could we just be friends? He laughed and we shook hands. I had no intention of being friends with him, of course--I just wanted to be able to be in the same room with him. It was still hard--there were times I wanted to puke--but I tried to make it work. But then things started to slip into the old pattern. Even though I knew how dangerous he was, I started flirting with him again. It was in public, certainly, but it was wrong. I kept doing it even though he made my skin crawl. We even parted on good terms. Then he started sending me emails. I even told Mark, and I blocked his address from my email and from Frienster.

Now, months later, I still feel the need to deconstruct this. Which I will do tomorrow...

This post has been cannibalized from an email to my voice teacher (with names and locations changed to protect the innocent), as I thought you all might want to know how my auditions went:
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To save time in my next lesson, whenever it may be, here's a quick summary of how the auditions went:

[Midwestern summer program]: They only heard one aria from everyone (four-minute slots!). I sang "Voi lo sapete", they said "very impressive", done. I'm trying to take it positively.

[Southern resident program]: [Artistic Director, who I sang for in October in a masterclass) recognized me right away. I started with "Voi lo sapete" [which he suggested, in lieu of the aria I sing for Upstate NY audition #1, which is too damn high], he smiled and said, "Now isn't that SO much easier to sing?", I said oh, yeah. Then he asked for ALL of "Mi tradi". I tried to really vary the emotions on the verses, which I think worked out well. I took an extra breath on the last page but I don't think it was detrimental. He asked me where else I had auditions, then I left. The pianist I hired was quite good--very intuitive and had a good feel for vocal music.

[Midwestern resident program]: They don't let you choose your first aria, but they asked for "Dich, theure Halle" [Wagner] so I was pleased. (Though at 10:30 in the morning...yuck) Then the sneaky guy asked for "Mi tradi" [coloratura Mozart aria--totally different to sing than the first aria]--and for me to start right on the aria. Mean! But it actually went pretty well--I just concentrated really hard on finding a smaller focus [singer-ese]. I was kind of proud of myself there.

[Upstate NY summer program #1]: Sang "Stridono lassu". It really does feel a little high and relentless. But I think it went okay. (By the way, this was on Friday. There was a big snowstorm and it took me 2 1/2 hours to drive to the train station over six inches of snow--nothing was plowed. It was a NIGHTMARE. I'm glad I was actually able to sing at all after that.)

[Upstate NY summer program #2]: The pianist I had arranged for this audition called me Friday morning deathly ill, so I had to take my chances with the pianist they provided. Luckily he was someone I already knew ([person involved with YAP I did last winter]), and the moment I saw him I figured everything would be fine. I started with "Voi lo sapete", and they seemed to like it. Then they asked me to start with the middle section of "Do not utter a word". Vocally it went quite well, though I think I could've been more specific dramatically. Unfortunately I forgot to drop my friend Brad's name, which might have helped me. I hear they're making calls already--we'll see.

I did make goals for the auditions, per [aforementioned Artistic Director], which were to notice what my shoulders were doing and to anticipate musical changes dramatically. I think I accomplished these, for the most part. --Also, I was able to coach with [great vocal coach] while I was up there, and I have some feedback from the coaching which I can tell you about in my lesson.
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There, now wasn't that scintillating? While others are home-birthing ten-pound babies in a bathtub with no anesthesia (!), I am taking two-hour train trips to sing for five minutes for a chance to sing in the chorus of a few operas this summer. (I also had a harrowing experience the evening of the snowstorm and the two auditions--getting stuck behind an accident on I-84 for almost three hours with the engine turned off (I almost ran out of gas!), freezing, finally finding a way off the interstate at one A.M., but this is all I will reveal. I really don't want to talk about it.)

And a final note: met Cathy's boyfriend Saturday. He has my seal of approval. :) Email me if you want more information.

Welcome to the world, new baby boy! I can't wait to see you.

In other happy news, I am here in New York, having driven the whole way yesterday. I am rather proud of myself for this feat of endurance. I went a way I'd never gone before which took me through Allentown and Bethlehem and Stroudsburg and finally through twenty-five miles of the Delaware Water Gap, where I hadn't been in years. It was a great way to break up what generally becomes hundreds of miles of monotonous interstate. I felt I would need lots of distraction to keep me alert, which this route provided. I would not suggest going this way in the wintertime, though--very hilly. Plus I kept thinking that deer would come darting out of the woods. No such luck, thankfully.

I have five auditions in the next week. Looks like I'll be taking the train from Poughkeepsie this time (the parking situation in Beacon is not good). I'll actually be staying with my brother and his girlfriend (cohabitation--shocking!) tomorrow night so I don't have to schlep into the city two days in a row. I really don't know how people do this five days a week. It's really exhausting.

Last item: Mark and I are having a holiday wine and cheese party, which I finalized today on Evite. Our friend from Charlotte has already promised to come! Guess we can't back out now...

So I sang yesterday--vocally it went pretty well, but the aria unfortunately doesn't lend itself to much dramatic interpretation. (LOOOOONG story about why I had to start with that particular aria.) Anyway, I just found out I didn't get called back. But I'm not too upset about it--I can relax a little now, and just enjoy my week off. Plus it frees me up to think about my other auditions coming up. Just trying to stay positive...

Everyone tell Helen's baby to COME OUT ALREADY! :)