Beauty is pain

Exhibit A:

I love these shoes. Love 'em. They're cute and stylish and little uncomfortable. Seems that's just about all a good high heel should be.

After standing in them, passing out hors d'oeuvres for two hours, my feet look like this:

But if my feet had a face, they would use it to express themselves in this manner:

Not to worry, feet. I have just the thing.

Beauty is sometimes painful, but brownies with ice cream are always delicious. Balance is restored, and all is well.

Quick Update

Just wanted to take a second to share a project that will be consuming most of the next week for me here at the CMF.

500 cupcakes.

I'm not kidding.

Our first Full Orchestra show of the season (Next Thursday! Eep!) falls on (or near, I can't remember exactly) the conductor's birthday. That night, we are also celebrating his 10th year with the Festival; we had planned to purchase cupcakes to pass out to each audience member at intermission. The cost proved to be exorbitant-- mini-cupcakes are in high demand these days, it seems. We were exploring alternatives to this dilemma when I opened my big mouth-- "You know, we could probably just make them." Further research into this possibility has proved it to be the most cost-effective by far, so we're plowing ahead. And since it was my big idea...

I am now the Fearless Leader of Operation Cupcake.

Oy Vey. Currently working on logistics-- more updates to come.

Strawberry ice cream

Spring in Boulder always brings with it a certain sense of whimsy-- the sunshine, the bicyclists, the tulips, the quad peppered with shirtless, frizbee-playing boys who all need haircuts and girls tanning (in April? Seriously?). The strict order of the day-to-day that seemed so firmly established before Spring Break crumbles deliciously into the wind at this time of year. Classes get canceled as our teachers scramble to finish dissertations and prepare for concerts, rehearsals get canceled as our accompanists scramble to other rehearsals, homework gets canceled as one of our professors scrambles to recover from a hard-drive crash. These little wrinkles in the fabric of time don't always work out in my favor. But today-- ah, today-- due to one of those lovely little wrinkles, I find myself home before 3, watching cartoons, eating strawberry ice cream, and getting ready for a nap.

Life is good.

Here I am, and here we go.

I'm back. Maybe for good this time. We'll see if it sticks.

It has been one emotional week-- maybe one of the most important weeks of my life. Without going into too much detail, I have finally made the conscious decision to love myself for exactly what and who I am, and have taken steps to manifest that self-conviction in my everyday life.

-I lost one of the most important people in my life to date. Well ok, to say I "lost" him is misleading. Makes him sound like a set of car keys. I didn't exactly misplace him, but he's not my boyfriend anymore, so what do I care where he is?

-I started going to therapy again. I won't be blogging a lot about the progress I make in this area, for (obviously) extremely personal reasons, but I wanted to put it somewhere, because I need practice in the art of asking for help, and this is a good example of that practice. I want to be proud of my decision.

These are both very serious, very emotional decisions for me. At the risk of sounding like a drama queen, I needed to put them somewhere, to tack them to the proverbial Great Online Refrigerator Door, like a report card or an art project, as a reward, as proof that I can --that I do-- love myself.

Appreciating oneself, not for the contribution one makes to other peoples' lives, but solely for the value of one's own life, is a tremendously hard thing to re-learn, and although I do not feel I've lost the skill of loving myself completely, I have some ground to cover.

I've made progress toward existence as an independent woman of conviction this week, however scary and heartbreaking some of it may have been. Right now I feel like I got hit by a bus, but in the week to come I will practice being proud of myself for standing for what I believe in, asking for the respect I deserve, and being unashamed to ask for help.

SUPER. CUTE.

My latest homework avoidal strategy comes in the form of a website. No, folks, we're not talking about Facebook (although that one is another problem. Hmmm...). Tastespotting is a delightful collision of the food and photo-blogging world, where crazy talented-chef people post crazy-beautiful photos of crazy-delicious looking food. Seriously. Check it out. One of my most recent favorites was this-- an Austin showcase featuring some of the most adorable cakes I have ever seen.


Be prepared to spend hours on Tastespotting-- and if you try any of the recipes, let me know! Without a kitchen here, my opportunities are limited, and I would love to live vicariously through the culinary adventures of others.

Good Golly!

It's been such a long time! While I still check most of your blogs almost every week, my own has been woefully neglected. Time to fix that!

Things are different since the days of balding, bad-tempered theatre teachers. Oh, yes, much different. Now it's a balding, bad-tempered French Literature teacher. Music truly has secured itself as my career path-- music people are the happiest, friendliest people on campus that I've encountered so far, and I believe it is a direct result of their chosen profession. There is something about being around music all day that makes you much more emotionally receptive and expressive with the world around you. Societal inhibitions are scattered along the wayside, roadkill on a highway to creative expression. For example: my music theory teacher wore a light up, scrolling LED belt buckle to class today, and at a certain point in the lecture, turned it on to reveal the words:

ROMAN NUMERALS ARE NOT MALLEABLE.

Funniest thing that has ever happened.
I was in tears, the lecture stopped for a full five minutes. This kind of behavior is a trademark of his, and such jovial willingness to make a fool of oneself in front of one's students is common among the teachers in the department. The music school is my favorite place to be.

In other news: I have a place to live next year!!! Kaitlin (my current dorm roommate) and I are such good buddies that we decided to look for a place to rent together, and she came across an ad for a house a few days ago:

Two cellists looking for two female roommates

4bdrm house with 1 dog and 2 cats

A dog????? I instantly loved the idea. I've missed living with a puppy since I moved out of the house. We went over to the house (yes, HOUSE), and met Ali, who is a sweetheart and seems to be a good prospect for a roommate. We also met Ali's dog Luna, the GIGANTIC Great Pyrenees dog. She is also a sweetheart. Pictures of the house and Luna will follow sometime, but for now let me just say that Luna is the cherry on top of an absolute CAKE. Their kitchen is gigantic. They have cable. And my room has a huge closet. SOLD.

That's the more exciting bit of what I've been up to recently... There's too much to recap all the way from October, but I hope to be in touch much more often. I do love to read everyone else's goings on though-- they're so much more interesting than mine, and it makes me feel not quite so far away from friendly and familiar faces. Hope to hear from all of you soon.

In closing...

That is all.

Success!

I retract my previous statement about my theater teacher.

After my SECOND C+ on a paper for Theatre class, I decided I'd had enough. I emailed him, politely demanded a minute of his time, and met with him today after class. And it turns out, he didn't grade either of my papers. His overworked TA did, But only after grading a succession of papers written by the 80 percent of the class that doesn't enjoy paying attention.

While I sympathize with her plight, I don't believe it's too much to ask for her to avoid taking it out on my paper.

My teacher, formerly believed to be the culprit, regraded my latest paper and gave me an A-! Alas, the statute of limitations has passed on the first paper. Oh well; bygones. I was planning on doing an extra credit project anyway.

For the past few days, I've been wondering what to be for Halloween. Campus, not surprisingly, is currently overrun with a bevvy of slutty police-women, slutty fire-women, slutty French maids, and even a slutty Statue of Liberty. Not joking. Wish I was. So I contemplated a little irony-- dressing up as a plain old prostitute. No one would think to guess that one! You know, shake it up a little.

There was no way I could carry it off. I, thankfully, am simply not prostitute material. I am now the Wolf, after eating Grandma and Little Red Riding Hood. I have a giant fat belly and am carrying a red coat. I have hired a large, burly friend of mine to chase after me for a portion of the evening with a large axe.

Haha. Just kidding about the axe. But seriously, wouldn't that be hilarious?

Honestly, I haven't decided yet. It's a toss up between 1. The wolf idea (sans lumberjack), 2. Just plain old Little Red Riding Hood, and 3. Betty Boop. Ideas?

What's your costume?