Monthly Archives: February 2004

Defeated

Beethoven won.

The Ninth is going to sound fantastic. I don’t think I’m going back for the Bruckner Mass in F minor in May, though. I just can’t keep up; I’m not good enough. It’s been a terrific challenge, but I don’t have the time to devote to Cantabile as well as chamber orchestra. Besides, they’ve scheduled the four Bruckner rehearsals on Sunday afternoons yet again, and I’m tired of having to miss or skip out halfway through classes I’m supposed to be teaching.

I know I have a bad habit of underestimating my talents and skills, but last night’s rehearsal was embarrassing and depressing. The technical expertise required in the fourth and first movements are just beyond my current abilities. The entire section agrees that the technical challenge is above what they’re usually called on to do (and I can just imagine what Beethoven’s musicians must have said to him), but they still manage to pull off a significant percentage of the required work. I feel clumsy and klutzy, and I wonder what I’m actually contributing to the orchestra. Too often I lose my hold on what I’m doing and end up sitting there helplessly, trying to figure out where the heck we are, and where I can next come in with some sort of confidence.

There’s a difference between undervaluing yourself, and knowing that you’re just not quite good enough. If I had the luxury of time to really focus on working the music, I might stay on. With my schedule the way it is, however, I think it’s better all around if I focus my energies on chamber orchestra, teaching, and the slew of editing work.

I gave this a really good shot, and I’m proud of the fact that I did it. I adored the Puccini, and the Elgar was a bear but I mostly pulled that off too. I think back to how I felt when I joined chamber orchestra, and I stuck through that because my awkward playing was due to nerves and being tremendously shy. The technical challenges are different there (chamber vs symphonic!), and I do really well. I passed the nerves and new-girl shyness quite a while ago in Cantabile. I know I’m not where I ought to be in order to perform adequately.

It’s been fun, though. And the actual performance of the Ninth will be phenomenal, despite my fumblings.

*sniff*

It hasn’t been an easy week. Today’s “I-can’t-believe-this” moments included the discovery that the author of this MS left out about fifteen pages of text and rituals here and there — just never wrote them. Guess who picks up the slack?

The good news is that they extended my deadline to Tuesday (because Monday is President’s Day!), and thank goodness, because I had no idea I’d have to get this creative. Someone’s evidently looking out for me on this project, because I have all Monday to do it now. All the impressive work I’ve been pulling off has garnered me a nice break. (Look — karma in action!)

Anyways, HRH just came home and handed me a Kim Possible valentine and a box of hand-made chocolates with a big grin. “You didn’t have to do that,” I said, melting completely. (First over the Kim Possible Valentine – you have no idea how much of a kick I got out of it — and then the chocolate.) “I know,” said HRH. “But you’ve had a hard week.” He knows how disgusted I feel about artificial celebrations like Valentine’s Day, which are pushed by commercial operators and socialise people to think that being part of a relationship is the Right Thing and expected of everyone. Spending money doesn’t make you any more special to someone. Sure, it’s nice to be spoiled sometimes, but I’d prefer to be spoiled on an occasion of HRH’s choosing. Although the laugh’s on me this year – apparently it’s fun to give me stuff when I don’t expect it, and since I don’t expect anything on Valentine’s Day, well…

In fact, I got two Valentines today. The first was from my goddaughter, which was simply adorable. I have both of them pinned up on my bulletin board.

Dress rehearsal for the Beethoven tonight. Let’s hope all goes well.

Birds on the Brain

While we were waiting for my glasses to be ready, we popped into the pet store and as usual I spent too much time with the birds.

I love birds of all forms, but intelligent bids really fascinate me. They tend to like me, too, trying to catch my attention in any way they possibly can. On a slow afternoon a few years ago, a bird handler invited me into the restricted area, and a young soft buttercream cockatiel fell in love with me, sidling out of her cage and up my arm to lean her head against my cheek, murmuring softly to me, and stretching a wing out every once in a while. She loved my hair, and was very sorry to see me go when I finally had to leave, half an hour later. My own heart almost broke. I didn’t have the two thousand dollars to leave behind in her place, however, and so we were parted forever.

There’s something wonderful about the bright eyes of birds, and how they act when different people are around. When I walk into a bird area, they usually cluster at the fronts of the cages and either screech so I turn to look at them, or flap their wings a lot. They flirt incessantly too. The first time HRH saw it happen and watched incredulously as I had conversations with them, he called me Polgara (and if you read David Eddings, you know why).

Roo has told me stories of her lovebird, and I had lovebirds hopping up and down at me today as well, saying, “Look at me, look at me!” I love talking to her canary when I’m over at her place, but as beautiful as he is, I don’t think a canary is for me. I’ve had finches and a dove, but finches are too small to really interact with, and the dove, well, wasn’t so bright. We have cats, sure, but as the bird handler told us today, she has cats and two cockatiels that walk around freely; the cats know not to bother them. (One wonders what kind of scars the felines display as proof of their acquisition of bird ettiquette.)

So when we have a larger home, and I have a room of my own, there is a bird in my future. Perhaps a conure; perhaps a lovebird. Who knows?

Deliberate Redundancy

One hundred and eighty dollars later, I now have new lenses in my second-to-last pair of glasses to use at home, and my last year’s pair will stay in my purse. Now I theoretically can’t leave my glasses at home next to the computer, which is what’s been happening.

Something’s wrong with my host server for Owldaughter; the control panel also seems to be rejecting my password so I can’t log in to find out what’s up.

Wrote my foreword for the first book being released by the new imprint yesterday, and sent it off this morning. They’ve already pulled a quote from it to use as cover copy.

Eep.

Update: Ah. My host is migrating servers yet again. It would be nice if they warned us.

Ow

Another day of burning brain cells on this manuscript. I’m just finishing up my foreword for it, after a long nap and some dinner. I’m exhausted. Tomorrow is more editing of the final chapters that came in this evening, as well as an optometrist appointment to make sure my prescription isn’t outdated, a second set of glasses, and a dress rehearsal for the Beethoven.

Ibuprofen and cat naps are my friends.