Date Nights

About once a month, I invite my friend Bucket over for dinner. Not only do I love his company, but I also feel a little bad for him because he doesn't really cook, and he's short on cash. So I like to have him over for some home cookin', because I know that always makes me feel better. So last night, Bucket came over for meat loaf and sweet potatoes, and so did our friend Soren. It was a regular dinner party, complete with three bottles of wine (that are all gone), and adult conversation that was moved from the dining table to the "living room area". It was fun- it made me feel comfortable and grown up. Cut to tonight.
Tonight I have a date, about which I do not feel all that comfortable or grown up. It's nothing against the gentleman- I hardly know him. (Sort of the point of going on a date, no?) I've had a few dates since moving to New York, and I get super nervous and feel like I'm 12 years old before every single one of them. I really don't like going out on "blind dates". (Even though this isn't a blind date, it may as well be.) I feel an extreme amount of pressure, even though I put no eggs in any baskets. We are going to see/hear (?) a DJ tonight, since the lucky guy I'm seeing tonight happens to be a DJ himself. I asked Robert if he thought this sounded like a strange idea for a first date, and he said no. "Anything besides coffee or drinks always sounds like a good idea to me." I agreed. So Robert has advised me on what I should wear, and reminded me that it IS Thursday, so I can stay out later tonight than I would on a Monday. Not that I go out Mondays. But I could if I wanted to!
So we'll see. At a time when most people with whom I grew up are married and are now starting families, I'm concerned about which heels I should wear with my white jacket. Or should I go with the black velvet? Nah...still a little warm for velvet.

She's Having A Baby

After an overcast, but very relaXing weekend at the shore, I now know 5 women who are going to have babies next winter and spring. FIVE. There was a time, about 2 weeks ago, when I only knew 2 women having babies in the spring- my cousin and my sister-in-law. (Yes, that's right- I'M GOING TO BE AN AUNT!!!!!) But now, I've learned that one of my closest friends will give birth before my actual niece or nephew is born, along with 2 other ladies close to my age who already have children. Allllll within a month or two of each other. Is there something in the water?
Now, don't get me wrong- I think kids are great. They are cute, and then there's that whole carrying-on-the-bloodline thing, and I'm especially excited for my little niece or nephew so I can shower the kid with useless gifts and buy him or her cool baby stuff from New York. But, after spending my shore weekend with a 3 year old (a SICK with a cold 3 year old), I'm quite certain that children are no where near my immediate future. How do these moms my age do it? Seriously. When I was watching Eli (the 3 year old) this weekend, I felt as though I was stripped of any freedom. He was pretty much refusing to finish his hot dog, but his dad insisted that he eat the entire thing. So, while he dad was showering, I had to make sure Eli ate the damn thing. The hot dog that had been sitting outside for about 30 minutes, and then sat on every table surface from the Florida room to the front porch, with tiny bites being taken inbetween screams and running. Ew.
So my hat is completely off and thrown across the room to Moms- especially younger moms. To display that degree of unselfishness is really amazing. I know I couldn't do it- so better you than me!

Good Lord

I seriously doubt it was him, but I saw a Michael Lombardi look-alike at the gym last night. For those of you who don't know (and this isn't the GREATEST picture of him), he plays on Rescue me, which happens to be my new favorite show. Until the season finale this Tuesday- then I have to wait until it starts up again. In the mean time, I have to catch up by watching the first two seasons. It's a really good show, y'all. And with the likes of Mr. Lombardi? Yes please!

The Smallness Continues

After last night's performance of Rigoletto in the park, the amazingness of New York being the biggest small place in the world hit me in the face once again. Nakia and I enjoyed the evening with Rebecca and her boyfriend, along with some other random people her boyfriend knows. After Mark Delavan rocked out his last note (he, along with the Sparafucile were the highlights of the performance), we set out to trapse our way back to the subway. Upon leaving the park, Rebecca's boyfriend made his way to an entirely different group of friends, to bid them goodnight. While he was talking with a very drunk man, I realized I knew this guy. Even though he now has a beard, and was swaggering from the wine, I totally recognized him as a former piano student of my mother's, and a former euphonium student of my dad's. In Central Park. Out of 15,000 people. And I see Steve- a guy from Hanover with whom I grew up and performed. What are the chances?
Pretty good, actually. This is the second time in 3 weeks I've run into someone from my past by complete random coincidence. After telling Steve who I am (apparently I look way different, although I don't think I do), he was screaming and yelling about how shocked he was to see me. He then proceeded to tell me that my parents played a gigantic role in his musical life (he's a Harvard grad), and that my father was one of the key figures in shaping his life as a musician. Pretty awesome, no?
Apprently Steve lives in Murray Hill (lucky bitch), and insisted that I come over and hang out. One more person in New York that makes this place not feel so huge.

Marshmellow pumpkins and the like

I've been thinking a lot about what my life will be like after New York. Now, I realize that's a lot of thinking to do for someone who hasn't even been here for 6 months, but they don't call me Planny McPlannerson for nothin! Before moving here, I had no idea how long I would live here. My plan was, and still is, to move to Europe at 30 and give singin' a try over there, if I don't have what I want over here. That all sounds well and good- except the part where I figure out how much it's gonna cost me, and then realize I have absolutely no money saved. Or what about buying a house or a car someday? Hmm...I need some saved funds for that as well. Tough to save much of anything when you're living in the most expensive city in the country, paying back student loans whose payments are about to increase, and spending what's left on food, drink, lessons, applications, and coachings. Who knew being poor was so expensive?
Of course, I'm not the only one. Most people my age struggle with finances, especially other musicians and artists. I credit myself for putting myself out there and really giving it my best shot in the toughest city in America. But again- what happens next?
After watching Masterpiece Theatre for several hours on Saturday night (I know, I know...I'm really the life of the party), I became super nostalgic for the days of yore- my days of yore. As a kid, I used to climb into my mom's bed on Sunday nights to watch Mystery! (which, incidentally, I watched last night for the first time in a long time. And, as it turns out, Robert used to do the same thing. Probably why we're both such big Edward Gorey fans. But I digress.) She would let me watch Mystery! with her for a little while, before I had to go to bed. I don't think it came on that late when I was a kid- there's no way I was allowed up till 10 PM. I remember snuggling under the covers during the fall, just when the breeze outside was getting chilly enough that we had to close the windows. I love that weather. So Masterpiece Theatre jogged my fall time memory- I loved marshmellow pumpkins (I know I wrote a post about those last fall), candy corn, fall colors, Halloween, leaves, apples, pumpkins, and the smell of burning leaves. I loved walking home from elementary school every October, waiting for the day that my mom would decide to hang up the Halloween decorations- the pumpkins on the hearth, the skeleton on the side door, the witch on the front door.
So why did all these nostalgic memories force me to contemplate my next move? Because I miss that. I miss being close to my family. I miss community. I miss not being poor (not that I've ever been rich!) I know living in NYC is what I have to do right now- and I love it. I just hope I'm never too far from marshmellow pumpkins...

Bjorktastic

Last Friday night, I saw Bjorkestra, a 20-piece big band jazz ensemble that plays the music of Bjork. I'm assuming most of my readers are familiar with Bjork, but if not, google her and check that shiz out.
At any rate, Bjorkestra was pretty awesome. My friend Alissa's brother-in-law plays sax in the group, so when she invited me, I jumped at the chance to go. Apparently, Alissa said the last Bjorkestra show was sparsely attended. One would never guess that from Friday's packed house. They played a lot of Bjork favorites, including "Yoga", "Hyper Ballad", "Army of Me", and (the encore!) "It's Oh So Quiet". The singer was great too-she's obviously a trained jazz singer, and when I told her, "You have a very even sound- totally easy from top to bottom", she said "Wow! You must be a singer. That's a very singer-y thing to say." I told her I am, and I have a great deal of respect for her style. I'd love to be able to do that kind of stuff. But it's probably not in the cards.
Alright- back to unpacking my brand-spankin' new cubicle. Exciting, I know.

Shadey

I'm really against wearing sunglasses on the subway. I see it every day, and every day, it annoys me just a little bit more. First of all, it's not sunny underground. Ever. I guarantee it. Secondly, not being able to see where the sunglass-wearer is looking is creepy. How do I know that dude sportin' the Oakleys isn't sizing me up so he can take my purse and dignity? Well, what's left of it. The dignity, that is.
I just think it looks ridculous. A) It's not "cool" to wear sunglasses indoors anymore. Top Gun was filmed in 1986. B) Jack Nicholson is the only celeb. who always wears shades. No one I have seen on the subway is even remotely Nicholson-esque. C) The people who refuse to move their lunettes de soliel always have the most unplesant looks on their faces.
Case closed.

Mounties Mount Up!

So I know you all know about James Valenti; no need to explain his ridiculous success one more time. But, my friend John alerted me to some videos of him- I think from his AVA recital- and one from Traviata with Anna Netrebko. I CANNOT wait to see him debut as Rodolfo next month at City Opera. I'm going to be a wreck through the entire thing- as I always am during Boheme. Livin' the dream, y'all- he's livin' the dream.

Dammit I want some FroYo.

So in order to lose the 5 lbs I've gained, and then another 5 after that, I've started Weight Watchers again. I had great success with the program before, so I know it works. This time, I'm doing it online because it's cheaper, and because I never know when my amazing social life will beckon me to go do something other than attend a meeting. I'm also trying the Core plan this time, rather than the Flex points. Core is different from Flex in that there is no counting- even though the foods HAVE point values, you don't add anything up with Core. The idea is to eat as many fruits, vegetables, lean meats, whole grains, and light dairy as it takes you fill you up. Sounds good, in theory- more food, right?
Well, it's only my second day on this plan and I'm already feeling tired and carb-less. I've been anti-low-carb for a long time. I still am. However, I feel the Core plan will help kick my ass into gear by screaming at me to not have a cupcake.
The good thing about WW is that you CAN have treats- in moderation. Currently, I'm saving up my flex points for Springers Ice Cream and Mike Hunte's french fries this weekend at the shore.
So even though I'm not 100% thrilled with the chick pea and spinach curry I just ate (although, it was tastey), and even though I really wanted the grilled flat bread that came along with it (but I said no!), I know that I'm doing the right thing for my body. I told myself I'd try Core for a month. After that, I can switch to the Flex plan if I want to, hopefully keeping in mind that I don't need empty calories just because I have the points saved.

Dreamgirl

My friend Frank had this dream last night :

The other night I had the funniest dream. We were in what I think was LA in some club where everything was silver including our clothes. We were on a stage and we performed "Raspberry Beret" by Prince. Random, yes. You'd sing and I'd dance, and then we'd switch. The people loved it. They didn't really have faces, but Hope from Days of Our Lives was there.

What's funny is that I haven't seen Frank since I graduated from WVU, but recently got back in touch with him through everyone's favorite stalking tool- MySpace. Thank God for the internet!

Enough

After a drunken, gluttonous weekend in Philadelphia, I have decided that now ends my "I can eat whatever I want since I walk more and work out a lot" phase. Those 5 lbs I've gained since moving here are about to come off, and then some. Seriously- what am I thinking? A) I worked really hard and spent too much money losing a lot of weight the first time around. B) I know myself- I'm not the type that can eat whatever she wants and not gain an ounce. C) I always gain weight in the summer, because I take a vacation from my better judgement.
So, the million beers I drank on Saturday, accompanied by the oh-soooo-good grilled cheese and fries I had yesterday was the end of the line. I want to feel really good about being healthy again. I'm back on the trizaine.

Astoria Represent

I really like my neighborhood. During Eliza's 2-day visit, she sang Astoria's praises as well, saying it reminded her a little bit of Italy: old men sitting in cafes drinking coffee and playing chess, the lack of English being spoken (which, at times, is annoying, but also charming), tiny shops selling one of each thing, and the cafe across the street from me that sells (heaven!!) lots of different Belgian beers. I can honestly say that I always feel safe in my neighborhood. It's mostly families and young professionals, and my street is always populated until the wee hours of the morning. Even during last night's monsoon (during which I was at the gym, so I was forced to literally run home), people made their way through the streets, with or without umbrellas, in a calm fashion.
On my way to the gym, I decided to stop in this tiny boutique that has caught my eye on several occasions. Mama doesn't have much extra money, but it never hurts to look, right? Candy Plum features clothing and accessories from FIT students, who live in Astoria. Many are one-of-a-kind items, and not terribly expensive! I purchased an adorable pair of earrings, for $16, as the owner told me that Candy Plum will be featured in an upcoming NYTimes article about local boutiques. Pretty cool, no?
More affordable and less pretentious than Billyburgh and SoHo, Candy Plum has some good offerings. Perhaps when my income triples, I'll be able to shop or live elsewhere. But until that time, Astoria represent!

Dream Vacation

My super cool boss alerted me to this article in last Sunday's Times. This is pretty much my dream vacation of all time. Except, rather than the Czech Republic, I'd choose to go to Belgium and tour the Trappist Abbey breweries. Simply amazing. OR do the lambic trail- that would be awesome too. Who wants to go?
(I'm totally serious- when I'm across the pond, auditioning in a few years, I WILL do this.)

WTF?

I chipped a tooth! How does that happen? I was eating toast and a peach with some Grape Nuts for breakfast. Now, the Grape Nuts aren't soft, but they definately soften up when mixed with milk- as they were this AM. So how on earth does a tooth chip in that situation?
Thank God it's only a tiny chip- but a chip nonetheless!! What do I do? Anything? Is there anything TO do?

Yes, Jesus loves me

I got the job!

I'm officially a member of the Church of the Ascension choir. So if you're in New York, starting in October, and you want to come to church on Sunday morning, I'll be there. And so will Christopher Lowell.

Even celebs need God

The subbing gig went well- so well, in fact, that I'm pretty sure I'm looking at a job offer. I'm not counting any chickens, but I also got a call about singing at Trinity Wall St. (the other desired church gig), but had to decline. I'm going to pit the gigs against each other and wait for divine intervention. That, or just the better paying of the two.
Anyway, while looking out at the congregation of mostly older, affluent gay men, I noticed a semi-familiar face. You might remember Christopher Lowell from his design show, which then spun the hilarious Saturday Night Live skit with John Goodman humming loudly and just generally being hysterically funny. You may also remember Mr. Lowell talking about his wife, or notice the wedding band on his left hand. Mhmm. Riiiiiiiiiiiight. If he's married to a lady, I'm married to Joaquin Phoenix. Let's just leave it at that.
In other news, I saw Little Miss Sunshine this weekend, and I highly recommend it. Best movie I've seen in a long time. I also went to the Met, got drunk on champagne, and played "5 second" video games. Quite the cultural couple of days.

The move we've all been waiting for

WHAT'S THE MUTHAFUCKIN' PITCH?
Read the muthafuckin' title!

WILL IT SUCK, MUTHAFUCKA?
Does it really matter? At this point, Snakes on a Plane could prove to be the worst film in history, and it would still live up to expectations. It is now more than a movie. It is a meme. I think the first one to really reach that status before release. Blair Witch came close, but not like this. It is also the first movie title, I believe, to become a zen koan.

Pedigree-wise, I think if director David R. Ellis' last film had been called Motherfuckin' Cell Phones in Motherfuckin' Cars instead of Cellular, it would have done better. And co-writer Sebastian Gutierrez's Gothika and The Big Bounce should bring just the right amount of suck to make this worthwhile.

And if it doesn't meet your expectations? Snakes on a plane.

HOW WELL WILL THAT MUTHAFUCKA DO, MUTHAFUCKA?
It's safe to say it has no competition. There is nothing else like it on the planet. Even if people think it will suck, they will probably still see it. In fact, I think more people will come expecting it to suck than not. That is the mystery of Snakes on a Plane. It also makes coming up with a figure next to impossible. What price irony? $53mil.

Deep Pockets

I think we can all relate to this article about student load debt. She realizes that her educational choices were her own, saying "Yet I made my choices based on the values I had been taught -- that helping others is more important than making money for yourself, meaningful career is more important than net worth, and brains, determination, and charisma are the key ingredients of success. I realize now that I subscribed to the fantasy of an equal society, when in fact everyone's options arise from class, race, gender, and a thousand other subtle differences in our experiences, assumptions, and privileges."

Also- did you know that "the average debt at graduation in America is $19,300. In the United Kingdom, it's $16,000; in New Zealand, $9,600; in Germany, $7,000. Most countries require repayment only when a graduate earns a certain salary -- in the United Kingdom, it's $28,000. In Germany, it's $14,500 -- but students enjoy a five-year grace period, subsidies for good grades, and forgiveness on all loans above $12,500. Sweden's grace period is three years, Holland's is two, and most countries in Europe forgive student loans after 15-25 years."

Amazing. Simply. amazing. I'm totally honest when I say that my desire to move to Europe increases more and more every day.

The Big Payoff?

My friend Jonathan told me that if you want to succeed, you have to double your failure rate (Thomas Watson, Sr.). It makes perfect sense- think about how many applications we send out for auditions. First, we must apply to get an audition. Then, if granted an audition, we try out along with many other qualified singers for maybe 1 available slot. It's all very daunting, and the rejection letters pour in, we get irritated, and then we do it all over again. Why? Because we have to. You will not be successful at anything unless you are willing to accept failure. 9.5 times out of 10, you ain't gonna get the gig- no matter what it is. Job, singing or not, you will always have competition.
That being said, I've done several auditions for church jobs since moving. I like having a church job for several reasons. 1) I like singing in the Episcopal church. (4 out of the 5 places I've auditioned are Episcopal). 2) I need the money. 3) It keeps me singing on a weekly basis, because we all know how tough it is to practice after a long day of work/commuting/gym/extreme heat or cold. 4) I like the social aspect of meeting other competent musicians and knowing that we are all gathered to make some good music because we can. Plus, all of the auditions I have done were scheduled due to networking. Don't burn any bridges, folks! And keep in touch with as many musicians as you can. (I know I don't have to tell you all this, but it never hurts to be reminded.)
Well it looks like my work is paying off, as I am doing my first subbing gig this Sunday. This is by no means a big deal, but it's a start. And it's at a church where I am fairly confident I will be hired. It can and will be done.

Sehr gut

Yet another reason why I'd love to have an operatic career in Germany.