So today I managed to pull myself out of bed (away from lovely, lovely dreams of Ianto, and Tosh, and Jack, and theatre- you have no idea how hard that was) at about 2:20 PM, which is possibly a new record for me, and I was totally out of the flat and on the road by 2:40, with my umbrella and my purse and the bag of pyjamas that I had to give back to Eema. And then I was nearly to the Burcham intersection when I realized that my violin was still in my flat. (my lack of social life is telling: I keep wanting to slip words in Hebrew into this post- my umbrella and my tik, my kinor was still in my flat. I need to talk to people out loud more often; I'm forgetting English.) Anyway, so I panicked and pulled into the Elementary School driveway, intending to turn around, when I realized that it was one-way, no left turns, and there was a long line of cars blocking me from getting out. Someone kindly let me in and I turned frantically onto Burcham, then realized I had no idea how to get back. There was much of the getting lost and ending up in strange neighborhoods before I found myself back on Saginaw, where I went tearing along back to Haslett, to Hagadorn, and to Hull. Ran upstairs, snatched my violin and drove hell-bent for leather- by which I mean, thirty miles per hour, because speed limits. Arrived in the Music Building just as the Symphony orchestra was tuning, and stopped to get my folder from the bin but the bin WAS GONE. By now I was already late, so I did not run, but I hurried to the Music Library and it was totally closed and dark and locked and empty, despite the sign on the door saying OPEN and 1PM to 4PM and it being only 3:00 PM. And so I knocked and looked desperate and pitiful, and considered just running away, but someone would have seen me approach the orchestra room earlier and I'd passed Beau in the hallway and someone would have reported to Gregorian that I had been there, and disappeared of my own free will. So I gathered up my courage and went in late, ARGH, and then we played Prokofiev's Love of Three Oranges and Beethoven's Eroica. And it had been sprinkling when I'd awoken, and all the way to orchestra, and as rehearsal wore on the rain got heavier and heavier until it was just pouring straight down, and I was really annoyed with myself for leaving my umbrella in my car, because I'd have to walk to work without it. But then an hour and some time in, during the Beethoven, the rain stopped and though the sky was dark and grey somehow the sun was shining magnificently off of the trees with their fall-colors and it was just about the most lovely sight I'd ever seen, and I spent all our measures of rest (like, all three of them) staring over my shoulder out the window, which is bad and unprofessional but COME ON, Beethoven would have understood, LOOK AT THAT SIGHT. Gorgeous. And then the gray just faded away from the top down like God adjusting the brightness of his monitor, and it was just so cool, also, Beethoven is crazy hard and I kind of wish I were first violin because I learned these excerpts for auditions and it throws me the heck off when I hear the cues and start automatically playing along with the firsts because the second part is impossible to sight read anyway and I know that part, I know that's what I'm supposed to be playing, and I can't not play it. But I'll learn, I will. Afterwards I went and had a cup of coffee, which- oh- explains why I have barely paused for breath this entire entry, and then I sang Blue Skies and came to work, after stopping in Barnes and Noble to pine after Doctor Who, which is like a hundred dollars, whut, on Amazon it's only like 53 + shipping. and, granted, shipping is expensive, but not that expensive, guys. Last night I talked to Mical and I suggested that she be a bat for Halloween, which come to think of it is a really good idea, and something I've never been, so maybe I will be too, because Mical is in Boulder and it's not exactly like we move in the same circles. And also Eema dropped off a bag of clothes for me to try on, a black concert shirt and black cordoruoy pants and two pairs of pyjamot, and she said that whichever pair I didn't pick she would take. There was a pink pair with black-and-tan flowers all over that I didn't fancy at all, and a really cute plaid flannel pair that I adored and it was no decision at all. I wonder how influenced I was by the fact that Eema has a pair of plaid flannel pyjamas, and so does Caitlin. *shrugs* Anyway they were quite comfortable and I wore them while making noodles with olive oil and basil and parmesan cheese, which is delicious and I purposely made enough so that I could take the leftovers to work today and not be hungry, but then of course I ran out the house without time and did not take it, so I will have to content myself with the appetite-suppression of caffeine, which is most of the reason that I drank the coffee, was so that I wouldn't die of hunger before I went home tonight. Also I did all my dishes, go me. I was about to complain to Paul that a downside of living alone was that I had to do all my own dishes, but then I realized, no, if I had a roommate or something, I would still have to do my own dishes, and also be yelled for not doing them by someone else's standard of fast enough. So, it is actually a perk of living alone, and I love it, if I do things in my own time I do not have to feel guilty, or be yelled at. I love that, I really, really do. It is something that will take me a long time to get over, and I'm just revelling in it. Basically I revel in my flat. A lot. Look at my window! Covered in sparkly snowflakes, and a snowman suncatcher, and golden stars, and Caitlin's beaded star ornament! Look at my bookshelf, and how it matches my door! Look at my bright lamp, my night-table, my silver clock and my religious icon, my dishcloth hanging on a sticky-hook, my sink! My dishwasher! My coffemaker! My kitchen appliances, my knife rack! My basketchair, my shower curtain, my soap dish, my medicine cabinet! My rugs! My kitchen table, my chairs, my beautiful white kitchen table and brown chairs! My sofas covered in cat hairs! My friggin' WATERBED, my luxurious, luxurious sheets and comforter! My walk-in closet, all full of hangers, my laundry basket! Look at my new balcony, the lovely blonde wood, and my windchime with the golden sound! My clock-radio and my new headphones, my TV stand with television AND a DVD player...! My shoe rack, my white coat with the parva! My very own cat-food closet, with my very own vaccuum cleaners, both large and small! My fuzzy blue blanket and my DVDs and my books, my books and my purple butterfly bookends, my knitted potholders and green placemats and brass candlesticks! My candles! Matches! My green flower dishes! My beautiful, decorated bowls of all shapes and sizes! My art nouveau vase, full of beautifully dead flowers! My carpeted floor! NYAAAAA! *runs around in circles, flailing* LOOK AT ALL MY STUFF. I don't think there is any way to convey how unbelieveably rich I feel. All this stuff! And it's all mine! I feel like Ariel, except without the pining or the pouting! ALL THIS STUFF. IT IS MINE. I HAS IT. You are going to have to pry me out of this flat with a crowbar. I totally, totally get how all the ship captains feel now. MY PLACE. MINEMINEMINE.
I don't think I've ever had less money to my name. I'm subsisting off of rice and pasta and calculating every day whether I can afford to buy a cup of hot chocolate on my way to work (answer is: I really shouldn't, I should just buy a thermos so that I can make my own and bring it with me). I'm not managing to save anything; between keeping myself in internet and violin lessons I must be careful to let my third-of-a-tank of gas last me the next two weeks at least. I've never really not had spending-money before; even when I was little, if I wanted something, I could ask for it. I might have received "no" for an answer, or else had to wait for a holiday, but still. (It's so easy to see how someone can get stuck like this, and have to choose between an eye exam and a bow rehair, and I'm so very, very fortunate that my parents can help me with things like that.)
I've never felt richer in my life, ever. I cannot get over how lucky I am, and as in Israel, every nerve in my body is screaming at me to make the most of now, because I am well aware, so very very aware, of the limited duration of this state of affairs. I am in the prime of youth, the cusp of adulthood, if you will; I have what is (for me) a perfect balance of independence and a firm support structure, a place of my own- a place of my own that feels like home- a cat that keeps me from ever being actually lonely, a cat whose character just takes up all the space in the room, like a cat trained in musical theater. Two orchestras and a part-time job arranged to fit my personal sleep schedule, no responsibilities that I cannot handle for the first time in, like, EVER, no one to please but myself, and plenty of time and resources with which to do as I please. Do not get me wrong, having other people in my life will be great too, but I value this time so much, and, as in Israel, I do not look up in surprise and wonder where the last few months have gone: I am conscious of every day that passes, I can feel the time flying, the way people say you can't. That is me; I may not have a sense of time- of past, of future, but I am so aware of the now. Always conscious of the present. ...'M not sure what I'm trying to say, here, anymore. But the last section of the first paragraph sort of reminded me of Jack talking to Nicholas in Polari (Nicholas! I would give anything for Nicholas to be canon. I'm so madly in love with Nicholas). Tosheroon worth of savvy to spare and dull ogles and dolly eeks.
I should actually work on the roster now, you know. *shrugs* It will get done. So it goes.