And here we go again

Well, here it goes. Into semester six of college. 

I guess not quite yet. Officially it begins tomorrow morning when my mother and I update our FAFSA and then stuff all of my luggage in the car. Then it’s off to Rochester again. I’ll be leaving my beautiful home, family, and dorky, smelly dog for the city and stress, exhaustion, coffee overload. 

I keep trying to suppress my excitement. It’s always so bittersweet– I never want to leave, but I go crazy when I have too much free time. And I always figure it’s better to go back with some sort of enthusiasm, then dread.

I’m finally going to be caught up with aural skillz. I want to get my first tattoo. I’m going grocery shopping tomorrow at Wegmans with my future roommate and then to the gym and then to rehearsal from four pm to whenever it ends. 

And then I have Sunday, a day to settle in.

And Monday it’s back to a twenty-five credit load week, complete with work four out of five days, extraneous coachings, and forced time at the gym. I have until March 10th to look hot in a bikini (that’s when our Last Family Vacation happens). Yay, Spring Break. Too bad I only have two months. 

Anyway, it’s going to be rough transitioning back, but I think (hope) (at least at the beginning, when it’s kind of easy) it will be fun. 

I’ll try to keep writing over the course of the semester, but we’ll see if I have the time.

À bientôt!

Troubles of my thoughts

Aptly, “Affanni del pensier” (Handel) is a perfect description of my opinion of juries. I am excited and terrified, and sick with it. And I’d give anything for a moment of peace, at least.

I rehearse today at 4 with my professor in the Black Box of Doom (804). Again. And hopefully this time I will be able to add some artistry to the aria I received just over two weeks ago. To some, this might seem like no time at all in which to master the music. I, on the other hand, am not a super great memorizer (or writer, right now, apparently). I also have a shit ton of other stuff going on. That’s not an excuse, it’s just the truth. My planner is riddled with scribbles: “E-mail these people. Composition assignment draft; theory (theme and variations worksheet). Aural skills: practice. Rehearse- 4oo” and so on and so on.

I forgot to eat again today. This is the second time it’s happened. So, to make up for it, I bought myself an amazing sandwich at Java’s. But I’m still shaky, still feeling the aftereffects of being stupid and not nourishing myself. I didn’t want another stupid bagel again, though! And that’s pretty much the only good thing I can identify in that pathetic little food-providing institution they call the Pit.

Anyway. So I’m a little twitchy and full and nervy right now. I’ve got an hour and six minutes to solidify Affanni before Ciesinski hears it again. I might sing it through to myself here, then read it: again and again and again. Then sing through it softly one more time. I might speak the words in the order they go in. I don’t know.

I just want to do well. I’m working for it; I’m trying. I’m trying.