Either at sixes or at sevens

I looked that phrase up, once. I forget what it means.

Long day today. I’m trying to get in the habit of writing, even when I don’t start out with anything particular to say. I stayed up way too late last night, as those who checked the timestamp on my last entry surely noticed, and had a very hard time getting going this morning. Fortunately, I didn’t have anything scheduled until afternoon, so it wasn’t *disasterous* that I didn’t convince myself to get out of bed until eleven, but still. Mornings are important, and it throws me off when I don’t have them.

It was raining today. Like, actually raining. It doesn’t really rain in Providence — not like it does in Houston. Today was the first time since I’ve come here that we had what would count in Houston as ‘heavy rain’. Big, umbrella-busting wind, flooded streets, the whole shebang. I’ve never typed that word before. Is that how you spell it? *checks* Yes. Go me. Ordinarily, I love rain, but I’m against it when I have a two-mile walk to school in the middle of it. I took my umbrella and ended up *drenched* anyway. My jeans were twice as heavy as usual, and my shoes and socks were soaked.

I had my first voice lesson in quite some time — there was none scheduled last week, because of Thanksgiving, and I’d cancelled the week before, because I was sick. Kevin (my instructor) said during warm-ups, it sounded like my voice had doubled since the last time he’d heard me. All-told, I really had a very good lesson, I think. I’m really picking up on this stuff. Connecting vocal lines, breath support, shaping vowels… I’m starting to feel like a singer. I’m a much better singer than I was three months ago.

One of the cool things about my life for the past few years is that I’ve been able to truly utter that last sentence at almost every point.

Good lesson. Kevin told me to pick two pieces that I wanted to work on next semester, and that we’d work them, along with some of his suggestions. If he doesn’t mind my picking two pieces in English, I already know what I’ll suggest: “Make them hear you”, one of my favorite songs from Ragtime, and including a high G-sharp, and “Fair moon, to thee I sing”, from Pinafore. I performed that role back in Midland, when I was eighteen. Four and a half years ago, but it feels like much longer than that. That song utterly kicked my ass, and I’ve had a stigma about it ever since. It’d feel really, really good to be able to conquer that song. I’m not sure if I’m ready yet, but I’m ready to give it a crack.

Then office hours, where, surprisingly, I had no students at all. There’s a paper due next week; I expected things to get crowded. Those crazy students — they always keep you guessing! Seminar was almost, but not quite, as boring as usual. But by this time, I was getting *cold*, because my socks were still soaking wet from my morning walk to my lesson. After two and a half hours of seminar, I ran home and changed, and drove back for a department meeting, including pizza and some fun company. It was nice.

Off, next, to BUGS rehearsal, where Dan decided to flex his muscles a little by giving me weird directions about Shadbolt. I handled it less gracefully than I ought to have, because I was tired and hungry and irritable and didn’t agree with his suggestion. Still, though. I’m mature enough to be directed by someone I disagree with. And I have to admit, some of his ideas are really clever and good. Not this one, but some of them. I was also annoyed because I’ve been adhering to a tacit two-hour rehearsal rule. Like, if rehearsal started at nine, I might say at 10:55, “well, we really should rehearse such-and-such, but it is 11:00 now, so I guess we should call it a night”. Once, I asked people: “do you mind if we stay a little longer?” So, our rehearsals don’t have official end times, but everyone understands that two hours is expected.

Dan showed no sign of slowing down at 11:20, and was still naming the several things he still wanted to rehearse. We finally got out around midnightish. I’m tired. I’ll be glad when this concert is over. Hopefully, I’ll look back on what is overall a good experience, but we’ll see. I’ve met a few cool people, at least — maybe even including one or two that I’d be interested in knowing better.

Am I really picky about friends? I might be really picky about friends.

Our concert is next Thursday. I don’t know if it will be good or not. I also don’t know if anyone will come. I’m not sure how much I care. Tara can’t make it, although she seemed sorry about that.

My right wrist has been hurting me, quite a lot, and at random moments. Putting my hand in my pocket — picking up a pen — playing an octave on the piano. I really, really hope it’s not typing-related, because, well, I rely on typing more than quite a lot.

Ok, I’m very tired now. I’ve been staying up way too late this week.

I said that I’ve been trying to get into this habit of writing, even when I don’t have anything profound to say. But I don’t know why.