Time to tighten the belt

After my first Army experience yesterday (the test was fine), I realized what a life-changing event this could possibly be. I knew things would be unlike anything else I'd ever done, but man- it's gonna be somethin' else. Assuming I get in, I have to be in a certain weight range before starting basic training. Now, this doesn't quite sink in, as I have seen many pictures of soldiers with pounds and pounds to lose, but whatever. In order to pass the physical, which I must have before I even audition, I have to lose about 7 lbs. Not so bad, except I have to do it, or as close as I can get to it, in 4 weeks. Therein lies the problem. I lose weight slower than dial-up internet. I've always been a slow loser, and it's always been a point of extreme frustration for me. So now, I'm actually dealing with a time table, and I'm a little worried I ain't gonna make the cut.

So if you see me walking around wearing a garbage bag and spitting into a paper cup, it's not because I joined the wrestling team. Also, it might help if you scream "put down that carrot, fatty" and throw eggs at me. Anything to get this not-fat-yet-but-on-the-way-there ass in gear.

x(y-1)+ z(y-7397)-4x. Solve for h.

I've always been absolutely terrible at math. I have no idea how someone who is (sorry, but I'm patting my own back here so get over it) an excellent musician can be so lost when it comes to math. I have no idea how I made a B in Trig. in high school- probably all of the tutors my parents hired. Even in college, I took the simplest math course available (along with every other music major), and I STILL didn't get an A. Then again, Math 23 was at 8 AM, downtown, and was taught by a man with a very thick and hard-to-understand Nigerian accent. But I digress.

This is a complete mystery to me, as I began learning to read music before I had any sort of math class. I can compose you a Renaissance motet, or a Bach-like invention; I can jump key signitures and time signitures with the best of 'em, and I can sight read almost anything. But ask me to multiply fractions, and I'm stumped.

I've spent some time this week brushing up on my math skills, or lack thereof, because I'm taking the ASVAB today. What is the ASVAB? Well," a timed multi-aptitude test, which is given at over 14,000 schools and Military Entrance Processing Stations (MEPS) nationwide and is developed and maintained by the Department of Defense ". Basically, I have to take it before I audition for the Field Band. I took a practice test last week when I visited with my recruiter, and scored a 57. I have no idea what that means, but he said anything over a 31 is passing. On the ASVAB, incorrect answers do not count, but of course, the more questions one answers correctly, the higher the score. And, a higher score can result in a higher enlistment bonus. That may or may not effect musicians.

So think of me this afternoon while you're typing a TPS report or something- I'll be trying to remember how to do long division.

In retirement

When my dad retired from public school teaching 5 years ago, I wondered how he was going to fill up his time. My father has always been a very busy man (that's probably where I get it). He taught public school for 33 years or so, while holding down several professorships, playing in a symphony, managing and gigging with his own brass quintet, and doing extra gigs on the side. And somehow, he never missed one performance of mine.

Turns out, he keeps just as busy in retirement, but with much simpler things, like photoshop. He started a large project a few months ago, that should (hopefully) be ready by Christmas. He is scanning all of our family photos from around 1944- the present, and putting them onto CDs for my siblings and me. Photos of he and my mother that I have never seen before. Photos of me as a child that I do not remember. Photos of my siblings looking awkward as hell (I was lucky and didn't have an awkward stage ;) ).

It's hard for us to imagine our parents as young people, and remember that they were once our age, and faced many of the same challenges. My mom had already been married for 4 years and was having a baby at 27. I can't even imagine. Anyway, here are some of the gems my father recently scanned (note the use of photoshop in the caption):

I'm full

Eating at a good restaurant in New York is expensive. True, you can find good eats cheap, and that's how I usually roll, but once in a while (re: 3 times a year or so), I like to treat myself to a meal that costs as much as one week of groceries. Last night, I had dinner at Blue Ribbon. It's only about a 5 minute walk from my apartment, and I've been anxious to eat there for quite some time. It's not "upscale" like Jean-Georges (I don't think I'd even be able to afford a salad there), but don't let the relaxed atmosphere fool you. The food was off the hook, and I ate a ton, yet, I didn't leave feeling like I was going to explode.
For starters, we had three appetizers: asparagus vinegarette, the steamed artichoke, and the special- a Jersey tomato with house-made mozzaralla, and local zucchini. Deeeelish. For the entree, my friend and I shared the 40 oz. steak for two, that came with fries and spinach. It sounds like a lot, and it was, but the dishes were spread out so evenly that we never felt overwhelmed. For dessert, we split the profiteroles which were heavvvvvvvvenly, and then- I finally felt full.
Now I'm going to have to go on a century just to burn off all of last night's dinner. Diet starts Monday.

S*#$ happens

Saturday night, I'm preparing to go to Phong's surprise birthday party: I was dressed and ready to go. I made a pit stop before heading out, flushed the toilet and boom- overflow central. I mopped up the mess the best I could, turned off the water, and started plunging. After 20 minutes of plunging to no avail, but a lot more water all over the floor, I knew I was screwed. I was also the only person home. I was also covered in toilet contents. What a lovely evening. I called my roommate, who called our landlord, who swore he was on his way over. He never showed up. He never responded to the four additional phone calls my roommate placed. I called a plumber- 24/7 emergency service (or so they claim). "Great- someone will be there between 6:30-8:30 PM". It was 6:15. Tick tock. No plumber. It was now 8:15, and I was more than a little irritated. I had no dinner, no food in my house, but I couldn't leave because what if the plumber shows up the MINUTE I walk down the street? 8:30 came and went, 9:00 came and went. I called the plumber about 298983 times, practically in tears, and trying to find another plumber to come out and fix my potty. No dice. FINALLY, at 10:00 PM- 4 hours later- he showed up. "Sorry. Things are backed up. Pun intended". I bet.

After waiting all of that time, missing the birthday party, not eating dinner, and using the coffee shop next door's restroom twice, it took him 5 minutes and cost me $160 to unclog the damn thing.

In other news, I finally got my bike this weekend, and survived riding in Manhattan. (The bike shop is on the West Side). Granted, it was only about 7 blocks to the subway, but still- cycling in the City is no joke. Once I got back to Brooklyn, I took her for a spin through my hood, and did the Prospect Park loop, and let me tell you- they don't call it Park Slope for nothing. 5 minutes into the ride, I was totally out of breath and wincing at my quads. But, I love it. Move over, Lance Armstrong.

Yes sir, aye- aye Captain, or whatever

I've been granted an audition for the Army Field Band Soldier's Chorus. Now the fun begins! Along with my "acceptance letter", or whatever you want to call it, I was sent a packet of information and music. The first item of business is to call my local recruiter to set up a meeting. From there, the recruiter schedules my physical and ASVAB test. Do I have to call him Major Sargeant or whatever his rank is? Do I salute? I don't know. You might even be surprised to know there are Army recruiters in New York City- I was. I mean, there has to be, but it's still strange.

Being that this IS New York, the melting pot of the world, the following transpired yesterday:

(P.S.- I'm not being racist; this is exactly what was said)

Man on Phone: Herro Sgt. (couldn't understand it)
Me: Um, yes. Hello. I've been offered an audition with the Soldiers Chorus, and I need to see a recruiter for my testing and physical before my audition.
Him: Ahh, recruiter? You interested in joining Army, yes?
Me: Well, yes, maybe. I have to audition first. I really just need to set up an appointment with a recruiter. Can you help me with that?
Him: So, how old are you? You interested in Army?
Me: (explain the entire thing again)
Him: .......
Me: I NEED AN APPOINTMENT WITH A RECRUITER TO POSSIBLY JOIN THE ARMY.
Him: How old are you? Do you have high school diproma?
Yes: 27, and yes. I have a Masters Degree.
Him: Spell your name for me.
Me: H-i-l-a-r-y
Him: Hirrary?
Me: Well, yes.
Him: Ahhh, ok. I will transfer you to someone who knows what to tell you. I don't know.
Me: THANK YOU.

I've read how disorganized the Army can be- looks like I'm off to a good start.

I'd rather be home

Ashley: um i just tried drinking out of my water bottle and dropped it all over me
me: ahahhhahahhaha
Ashley: hahaha
me: i can see that. and you're like shit!
and talking to yourself
Ashley: i live a destructive and chaotic lifestyle...
me: and no one is listening
Ashley: um
that's exactly what happened
hahahh
me: hahahhahahhaa
i knew it.
Ashley: i really don't feel like working tdoay
me: me neither. stewpid.
here is what i wish i was doing instead:
i wish it was october
and we were at home
eating autumn mix
and all the windows are open, so it's nice and cool in the house
and we're watching lifetime movies
eating autumn mix
and mom is making chick casserole or something
and dad comes in and says "wife time!"
that's where i wish i was instead
Ashley: HAHAHAHHA
And then steve comes over
and dads asks him some ridiculous computer question
me: yes!
Ashley: and then we all laugha bout how stupid it is
me: hahah yes

I'm tired of thinking of titles for blog entries

Last night, when I got home from work, I approached the kitchen sink to wash my hands before making myself an awesome dinner of scrambled egg whites and bacon, but to my surprise, there was a visitor in the steel basin. A tiny mouse was caught in a sticky trap, IN the sink. The poor thing was caught, but not squealing, thank God (I can't take the squeals)- so I just picked up the trap and took it outside, where unfortunately, it suffocated. I can't bring myself to smash the damn thing, even though I suppose that's more "humane".

This whole episode reminded me of the time last summer when Amanda and I had to pick up a LIVE PIGEON (obviously very sick) off of the stair, put it in a paper bag, and take it outside, where I assume it died.

Next thing I know, I'll assisting in the birth of kittens, helping some random cat that happened to wonder into my cubicle at work.

Flicky

I started a Flickr page: check it out from time to time.

School Daze

Today is undoubtedly the first day of school for many kids across America. New bookbags, pencils, clothing, and teachers- resentful and pissed off that their 2 month vacation is over.

When I was in elementary school, we didn't start school until after Labor Day; at least, from what I can remember. I remember the first day of school being a bit cool, like today. A few weeks before that first day, my mom took my sister and I shopping for new sneakers, bookbags, and school supplies. I always looked forward to this. After shopping, I would spend every night until school started arranging my school supplies in my bookbag, making sure everything was properly labeled and in order. After the first week, that compulsion died and my backpack became a graveyard for crumpled paper and broken pencil points.

I remember one year, maybe going into the 3rd or 4th grade, we were at JC Penny, buying sneakers, and we ran into a boy and his mother who attended our church. The boy was my age, but went to a different school than me. He was upset because his mother wouldn't buy him the new Air Jordans; "For that price, I could buy groceries for an entire 2 weeks", she said. Here I am 20 years later, and I completely understand where she was coming from. Too bad that some weeks, I'd rather starve.

Get me to the church on time

In the last week, three friends (well, 5 including the spouses-to-be) have become engaged. Three. In one week. Three.

I am very happy for all of the betrothed; Lord knows I'm not ready for a lifelong commitment just yet. Of course, I haven't had a boyfriend for a few years and seem to be going on dead end date after dead end date, but aside from that, I'm cool with waiting on the ol' ball and chain.

It makes me wonder, when exactly do you know you want to be with someone for the rest of your life? Do you know from the beginning? Is it something that takes years to decide? Does it happen after you start living together? I'm in the dark here, as I don't think I've met my future partner yet. Or maybe I have, and I just don't know it. I suppose it's different for everyone- the time frame in which one decides to fully commit for life to another human being. With the divorce rate being 50% in this country, it's not a matter to be taken lightly.

It might be a good idea to open a credit card strictly for "Weddings '08" expenses- Williams-Sonoma will be seeing a lot of me.

Fancy

You may or may not know who Brooke Astor is, but her funeral is this Friday at St. Thomas, and I just got a phone call to sing in the choir. Now, I'm not saying that a funeral is a good thing, but the woman WAS 105 years old, had quite the fulfilling life, and is now having all the stops pulled out for her with the St. Thomas Men/Boys (plus a few sopranos) choir and all of New York's elite. (I actually don't know who will be there- I'm just imagining the wealthiest of the wealthy will be in attendance.) Who knows? Maybe someone wants to hire a soprano for a socialite wedding, or better yet, Karl Rove's going away party.

From Der German...

MTA nyc transit service alert:

Due to a single droplet of water falling from the sky mistaken for rain that was actually condensation from an air conditioner in a 17th floor apartment, there are delays on the following subway lines:

1 trains are running between 14th Street and 18th Street in both directions.

2 and 3 uptown trains will terminate at 96th Street, as they are afraid to go into Harlem.

4, 5 and 6 trains will be making two loops around Central Park before getting you to your destination, because they need some fresh air.

7 trains are enjoying a hot dog and beer at Willets Point-Shea Stadium and will resume normal operation once the game is over.

A, B, C and D trains are not running at all, because they really just don’t have time for your crap today.

E trains are running express in Manhattan, enjoying the nice cool breeze they get from going 30 miles an hour.

F and V trains are stuck in some neighborhood in Queens that you’ve never heard of.

G trains are currently experiencing an inferiority complex and will not run until further notice/counseling.

J, M and Z trains are running normally, of course, since nobody ever uses these trains.

L trains are running between Princeton Junction and Hoboken. We really can’t explain how they ended up there.

N and Q trains are currently running on the Cyclone track at Coney Island-Stillwell Ave.

R and W trains are feeling nostalgic right now, and are currently running over the Brooklyn Bridge.

S service is suspended between Times Square-42nd Street and Grand Central-42nd Street. You can just walk. You do have legs, don’t you?

We would apologize for the inconvenience, but we like to watch you suffer. Thank you for riding with MTA New York City Transit!

Small world

First of all, I noticed on my commute this morning that I can see the Statue of Liberty. I think that's pretty cool.

Secondly, I'm always amazed at how connected everyone is. Six degrees of separation is no joke. Last night, I hung out with my roommates for the first time since moving in. We all work different hours, so going a week or so without seeing one or both (and soon to be 3) of them isn't unusual. I got home around 8:00, and we headed down the street to a Mexican (yes, Mexican) joint. I hate Mexican food, but I didn't want to poo-poo my first dinner with my new roommates, so I just ordered something that I knew wouldn't make me sick. And you know what? I didn't get sick. Anyway, we came home, and a friend of my roommates' came over. Now, one of my roommates is from MD, and this dude who came over is also from MD. We discovered that a) my roommate's mom went to WVU, B) the dude who came over went to CCM and is a former singer turned chef, and C) the dude knows my friend Jeff (WVU clarinetist and friend of mine for 9 years). Who knew? My random craigslist roommmate is 2 degrees of separation from me.

That's New York.

Itchy

You're not safe either, LA.

Chocolate rain

I was pretty irritated that it was balls hot for days in a row, but when I finally get to the beach, it's 65 degrees and pouring down rain. I was pretty jazzed about hittin' the rocky shores of Rhode Island, but instead, we pretty much did nothing. It was still nice, though, to see Danno and just be out of New York. It was quiet and quaint and (through the raindrops) really pretty.

Here are all 5 pictures from my trip:











And, of course, the gorgeous weather on the morning of my departure:




Yep. Parachuters.

Weekend listenin'

I don't say this to be all "too cool for school", but I really do check the NPR website several times a day. I can't listen to the radio on the way to work, or anywhere really because I don't have the patience to download podcasts, so I catch up online, while I'm "working".

Anyway, there are two great World Cafe features this week, so if you are looking for something to listen to while working, or cleaning your house, or whatever check 'em out.

The first is Jason Isbell- the former frontman of the Drive-By Truckers. I am in love with this. It's great summertime music, and he's got a hot southern drawl. I give it an A.

The second is LCD Soundsystem, whose praises I have sung for years. James Murphy is awesome, and every album is amazing. Bucket and I went to see them a few months ago, and it's easily the best show I've seen all year. Well, maybe not easily, but it is. It's the best. I love it. A +.

The Lost Colony

Tonight I am headed to Kingston, Rhode Island to visit my friend Danno. Dan. Dan? Danno. I can't call him Dan. I know too many Dans, and Danno has always been Danno. We met as freshmen at WVU, at a house party. I was checking out some cute boy, who got lost in the crowd, and Danno- who is quite tall- offered to hunt the boy down for me. I told him he didn't need to bother; I just thought green coat was cute. That was 9 years ago, and we are still friends to this day. He said he can't believe that I'm excited to visit Rhode Island (as he has lived there his whole life), but hello! It's beautiful there. And it's not New York City. It's quiet and clean, with boats and beach, and rich people and pretty mansions. Actually, that's pretty much exactly like New York, minus the quiet and clean.

Anyway, I'm headed to visit him tonight for a quick catch-up, and then back to kick some serious ass in bocce quarterfinals on Saturday. Boccismo! is sitting pretty right now, tied for the No. 1 spot. I really think we stand a great chance of clenching the league title this season. Keep your balls crossed.

Toto, this is def. not Kansas

As you probably already know, unless you live under a rock or you're on vacation at the Jersey shore or in Hawaii all week, this happened. This isn't far from where I live in Brooklyn, and I didn't spend the night at home last night. (Don't get excited- I was catsitting in the Bronx). I obviously heard the storm, but perhaps it was a blessing in disguise that I was up in the great white north. Oh, and for you New Yorkers who aren't in our fair city this week, be glad you're gone- you missed the worst day of transit since the strike.

It's nearly that time of year

Fall? Leaves changing? Crisp air? Well, yes. It's around the corner (thank GOD; I hate this humidity). But, I was referring to audition season. It's time to decide how much money I want to waste on application fees and postage. Last year, I applied for (I think) 12 auditions- I got 9 of them. Needless to say, I didn't get any work out of it, but I'm OK with that- I sang well for almost all of them, and felt I represented myself well. This year, I'm only applying for 5 auditions. I just can't see wasting the money when I know nothing will come out of it. I'm not being pessimistic; I know I'm a talented singer with a nice career ahead of me. But I also know that YAP slots are incredibly few and far between, sopranos are a dime a dozen, and politics rule. Therefore, why waste time and money? Honestly, I'd rather save my money for German auditions in a few years than go up against every conservatory graduate on the East Coast.

So, I haven't made a final decision on where to apply, but so far, D.C., Britten-Pears, and Juillard Opera Center (if they'll have me again!) are on the list. That leaves space for two more. Hmmmm.

You won't phase me out

Last month, I put my NYSC membership on hold because I couldn't afford it. I meant to cancel the damn thing, but you are required to give 30 days notice, so I figured it was easier to pay $15 to freeze the account than whatever ridiculous amount it would cost to cancel it on the spot. To my surprise, NYSC charged me for a full month's membership this month- even though the membership is SUPPOSED to be frozen- and that has screwed me. Of course. I have been trying to get through to "member services" for 3 days. I have been on hold, or waiting to talk to someone, for 3 days. I wait an average of 45 minutes every time I call, putting the phone on speaker, listening to the awful music that sounds like something straight out of Quantum Leap. I've called the actual gym to complain and find out another way for me to get my money back, but alas- THERE IS NO OTHER WAY. I'm not convinced there actually IS a "members services". How is it possible that every time I call, I'm on hold for 45 minutes? You can't tell me that the phones are THAT tied up. Or are they? Is everyone in New York pissed off at NYSC? Or does someone have a tracker on my phone, which sends out a message to anyone/everyone who wants to call "member services", and they are just beating me to the punch?

$88 is $88. I will not be phased out. I'll stay on the line all afternoon if I have to. By the end of the day, I'll have an overwhelming desire to go home and watch some early 90s dramas.

Can you tell I don't want to work today?

I've decided to cut my hair. Really cut my hair. I think. It's not like my hair is 4 ft. long or anything like that, but it's long for me- it's the longest it's been since I was a senior in high school. It's just too much maintenance for me, and I end up pulling it back into a ponytail every day. That's not really good for curly hair. So, I've made an appointment for a serious hair cut/learning how to properly care for my curls at Devachan. It's not going to be cheap by any means, but I'm not looking for just a trim. I want a good hair cut, and I want to be better educated on how to take care of my hair. Supposedly, a key to good curl maintenance is only washing your hair once or twice a week, and drying it with paper towels or any old teeshirt. Sounds a bit earthy to me, but hey- I'm willing to give it a go for some sick curls.

Oh man

I lived in Queens; I can vouch for this. True and hilarious.

$40 a Day

More like $15, in my case. In the second and last of "Hilary's nights of dining out in Park Slope" series, I went to a great Thai place last night. It's a few blocks from my apartment, complete with a gorgeous outdoor patio, a DJ (although no one was spinning when I was there), a bar, and low lighting (thank God because I wasn't wearing any makeup and I was sweating). My meal cost $8.00 total, and I can honestly say I was full. I'll go back.
However, the highlight of last evening's excursion was my trip to Bierkraft. This was my first time actually going inside Bierkraft- I've been admiring it from the street for nearly a year now. I could have gone in anytime, but I knew I couldn't leave empty-handed, and there was no way I was carting beer from Park Slope to Astoria. Like a kid in a candy store.
Here are my wares:


Bierkraft really is a beer lover's paradise. Now, as you may or may not know, my favorite beers are those of the Belgian persuasion, followed closely by German brews. I have never been a huge fan of super hoppy beers, so IPAs were never on my list of must-haves. However, in an effort to appreciate the fine art of brewing in all its forms, I've started to incorporate hoppier beers (hoppier? is that right?) into my drinking diet. Upon entering Bierkraft, I immediately called Alex- the IPA king- to ask his advice on some good American microbrews. Aside from the Belgian tripel (haven't had this one before), and the Weizen (HAVE had this before) I purchased, I also got 3 brews from Dogfish Head: Indian Brown Ale, Raison d'etre (had this before), and Craft Brewed. I also purchased a Victory Primia Pils- Alex's favorite beer of the moment- and sampled that last night. It's a good beer- perfect for summer. The pricetag for these 6 handsome brews? $17.00.

Bierkraft is only a 10 minute walk from my apartment. I have a feeling that it's going to become my new Omonia cafe.

It's close to miiiiiiiiiiiiiidnight

The embedding was "disabled by request", but really; watch this. It's awesome.

NKOTB

Moving always makes me feel a little strange. Even when I changed apartments in college, and especially in Baltimore, I always needed time to adjust. I remember when Nakia and I had to leave our gorgeous Cathedral St. abode- seriously the nicest apartment I've ever had and will probably ever have. I was bummed. Even though we were only moving 3 blocks away, to Waterloo WITH Eliza and a swimming pool, I was still sad. Eliza was in Florida for the first month or so of our relocation, and Nakia was way busy working. I remember feeling really sad and out of place as I struggled to assemble my bed that first night. Dan had come over for a bit, and suggested I move my bed from one wall to the other- to create a better flow in the room. After summer opera had finished, I started working a terrible temp job- from which I would soon be fired- and I came home every day wishing I lived on Cathedral St. again. Not because it was a gorgeous apartment (MAN I loved that apartment), but because when I lived there, I was still in school. When I lived there, I didn't think about where rent was coming from (I'm paying for that now), or if I'd have time to practice, or how I was going to afford my gym membership. I was still naive to the "real world". Sometimes, I still wish I lived on Cathedral St.

It's my first night in Brooklyn, and even though I know the neighborhood pretty well, I still feel like a visitor. Like it's time for me to get on the R, then transfer to the N to get home in an hour. Instead, I AM home. I ate dinner at great sandwich shop where I have dined several times before, and I took my time walking home, stopping to sit and read a bit, checking out my new neighbors. It's not quite Cathedral St., but it's home for now.