Stephanie Says

A Site for Your Eyes

2011-11-07T21:01:00.000-08:00

I claim no internet expertise. Whatsoever. As my blog clearly testifies, I have invested little time in exploring the design options of a webpage. Little might be an understatement. BUT, despite this shortcoming, I have finally managed to finish my new website. It's successfully up and running (fingers crossed that that lasts) and you can find it at:

www.stephanierhodes.net

It's still in the early stages, so click on over and then send some feedback my way!

In compliance with the business practices of my field, I also had new headshots/media photos taken. Some are included on the website, and a few others I'm posting below. If you love me, feel free to say so. But seriously...if you have a favorite, opinions are much appreciated. This goes for those on www.stephanierhodes.net AND this blog. Critique away!

Just keepin' it real...

Xoxo,

S-Dawg

Scenic Seattle

2011-10-21T22:24:00.000-07:00

The best part about Seattle is the sunshine. Seriously. Everyone talks up the rain and gloom so much that every day it's sunny seems like a treasure. Despite the fact that I've experienced more sun that rain here. Anyway...when sun comes you take advantage, get out of doors, and run with it. Literally. On my last sunny Free Day (when you get one a week, they always come in caps), I decided to go for a long run, with my camera in tow to capture some of the fall foliage. And divert my mind from that fact that I was attempting more mileage than ever before. RESULT (In Sequence):

Alright, so maybe the battle wounds photo was not actually TAKEN at that point, but that would have been the place in the picture series where my lanky self decided to become one with the sidewalk. The camera survived with some scratches and I'm only missing a portion of my right hand. But I will advise the following: while photography and running are lovely hobbies INDIVIDUALLY, perhaps they are best left to their independent practices. In addition to the 6'0" of ground I covered with my body, I did pull off 16.22 miles on foot, with the Injury occurring around Mile 9 (Michael Scott, anyone???). So perhaps the road and this Rhodes each gained a point that fateful Monday morning. Though given my motto of the following day, "I'm broken," I'm inclined to think that perhaps the road has a slight advantage. For now...

Sleeping in Seattle

2011-10-16T22:07:00.000-07:00

Of course there had to be some type of reference to the 1993 classic during my Seattle residency...

There. Finished. Out of my system. Except for this over-sized, baby-blue, "SinS" nightshirt that could rock my fashion world. (Abbreviation of my own device. Not actually a reference to misdemeanors.)

But here's the truth: I am far from Sleepless in Seattle. In fact, I'm pretty sure I average more sleep nightly than I have in the past 5 years. Excluding visits to home when my sole purpose has been to maintain a vegetable-like state for as long as possible. Nights here might not always be the most restful, given my upstairs neighbor's pacing and "other" habits, but the hours are there! And I'm still working. Sleep and work...mixing? A novel idea, and one which made me think. So please bear with me as I wax philosophical for a moment. One of my favorite quotes from Henry David Thoreau:

I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.

Alright, so maybe I'm not entirely in the woods at the moment. But Seattle's as woodsy as my life's going to get for awhile, and it's given me reason for contemplation. I've been so busy the past five years or so. Might as well make that at least nine. Round up to ten if you like. Practicing, studying, career-planning, dreaming, working---all healthy endeavors. But somehow, in the business of becoming, I lost track of what to become. No, I'm not having a complete identity crisis. I only occasionally consider drastic career shifts, but on a typical day I'm beyond content with my choice of profession. And there have been so many adventures in the past few years...no regrets there. But in Seattle I've been given the gift of time and, while there's still plenty of practicing, working, dreaming, etc. I also sleep appropriate amounts. I run more than I ever have in my life and enjoy it. I find time for yoga class. And I read. It's always been one of my true loves, but somehow I forgot to fit it in. Or felt the only justifiable reading material should be academic. So much to learn!

And of course there is. And always will be. But at the moment, I'm learning how to let go a bit. There's no need to be victimized by the "To Do" lists and bucket lists which I so dearly love. Somehow in simplifying and eliminating the stress of becoming, I feel like I'm beginning to be myself again. The version which I know was ever-present, but perhaps slightly buried in a whirlwind of activity. Using that as a departure point, I've found a heightened perspective of who I would like to become, the characteristics I hope to develop, and the true successes I aim to achieve in this life. Another favorite quote from a great talk:

We become what we want to be by consistently being what we want to become each day.

Work is necessary. Progression and achievement should be ever-present. But I don't want to be known for becoming a busy person.

So...here's to the woods. Here's to simplifying. The world will go on turning at its same speed, but we set our individual tempos. In slowing mine a bit, I've found clarity, sharpened senses, and enhanced enjoyment. It's about the essentials. Finding time. Relationships. Family. Self-discovery. Calm. Peace. And, of course, sleeping. In Seattle.

One Plate Wonder

2011-10-06T20:56:00.000-07:00

Tired of your kitchen??? Ready for a makeover? Look no further--the One Plate Wonder is HERE!

Instead of the chaos and clutter of four burners, opt for ultimate simplicity! With the OPW, you can avoid multi-tasking completely, keeping only one proverbial pot (or fat) on the fire at a time. Not only will you find yourself cooking in a zen-like trance, your creativity will know no bounds as you concoct creations in one universal pot. Space a problem? The One Plate Wonder will introduce you to options never before considered:

Rather than attempt to restrain the One Plate Wonder's warmth, look to more effectively utilize your home space. Mushrooms are happier near ground level. And a dish drainer on the floor can only mean one thing...a cleaner floor. (DISCLAIMER: carpet damage and potential minor flooding may occur at your own risk). In minimal time with maximized effort, your OPW will put food for the family on the table. (DISCLAIMER: Best suited to families of 1 or less). Enjoy with some Virgin Lemonade and you're on your way to domestic bliss!

The One Plate Wonder is available at a Seattle hotel near you! Time to head West...

The Homeless and The Happy

2011-10-01T18:19:00.008-07:00

Home is a fluid concept at the moment. Belongings in one location, my physical being in another, and my mind and my heart with loved ones across the globe. Transitions (do they ever end?!) are never easy and embracing the lifestyle of a freelancer is not my natural predisposition. As it turned out, my first full day of work in Seattle was rainy, wet, and slightly depressing, primarily due to the aforementioned adjectives. Not a good place to begin life on the road. Miraculously, however, the rest of the week looked more like this:

Life-changing. A Tuesday-morning run along the waterfront in perfect temperatures and I was happy to set up "home" for 8 weeks. My Seattle "To-Do" list has since been made, and my effort to experience a new city and its culture are well underway. Here are a few of the easily-identifiable perks of said city and my situation:

1. I work with talented people. Making music. LOVE this job.

2. I no longer have to do my hair. My first day in town I was waiting for a bus, standing not far from a couple of bearded, homeless men. Who I later realized (after eavesdropping on their conversation---how else do you get to know a city?!) were not remotely homeless. But they looked it, I swear. I have since come to the realization that here we are active. Here we are earthy. Here we walk and bike and become one with the outdoors. And here we're fine looking like we're all those things. Better believe I'm on that bandwagon!!! I no longer dry my hair and I've already purchased some new exercise wear. Nevermind that I'm currently scouring Craigslist to buy a bike. Judge away readers...I'll be sporting the homeless and happy look without hesitation. Perhaps re-termed "earthy" in an attempt at delicacy, propriety, etc.

3. I live in a hotel. Which means someone cleans my house once a week. I'll take it.

4. I walk everywhere (unless that bike purchase works out...) and everywhere involves hills. Not something I EVER encountered in Texas. Hello glutes. Need I say more about that perk?

5. There is a vibrant chapter of the University of Michigan Alumni Club in Seattle, as discovered when I caught the first half of Michigan's 58-0 victory over Minnesota at a local sporting establishment. GO BLUE!

6. Seattle is beautiful. Lest you doubt, see photographic evidence below.

In an effort to work our way through the Seattle "To-Do" list, my friend and I opted for the multi-trip ride up the Space Needle: Day and Night.

Perhaps better documented as such:

Here's to seven more weeks---Homeless and happy!

Medals Matter

2011-09-28T21:13:00.006-07:00

Warm fuzzies, also known in the 1960s as "positive strokes," is something that parents who want to raise emotionally healthy children cannot do without.

Warm fuzzies come in verbal and non-verbal forms. Verbal warm fuzzies are words that feel good to children; non-verbal warm fuzzies are good-feeling actions.

As we saw previously, smiles, tender touches, gifts and friendly play are some of the non-verbal good stuff that children appreciate.The verbal fuzzies are praise, positive programming and emotional coaching. ~The Art of Positive Reinforcement

Warm fuzzies. They're a parent's best friend. (Right...actual parents?) I think most of us can look back on our childhood and see it littered with mounds of warm fuzzies. All the awards given out come the end of the school year---you know they made one up for each kid, the certificate if you even participated in a competition, and the trophies. Don't even get me started on the trophies. I'm pretty sure I had a dance trophy at one point. That's right people, DANCE. Anyone who has seen me attempt anything requiring physical coordination beyond the wrist can attest to the fact that it does NOT warrant a trophy. But I'll take it.

I'm all for that positive reinforcement. Let's build those kids up. Give them stickers, certificates, trophies...and then drop them. I mean, when's the last time you got a trophy, adult populace? Too long ago is my guess. Here's the thing: a couple of weeks ago the Rhodes Runners took on a 5K Challenge. Those of you who don't consider that a challenge should see the pictures of my father at the finish. You'll reconsider. We stretched, we ran, and we ate french toast. The kids got their faces painted. (My 18-year-old brother would have had he not been forcefully restrained). And then most of us left.

LUCKILY, Jill stayed behind and was rewarded for her presence. WITH A MEDAL. In actuality, it wasn't for her patience, but she had taken Silver in her division. And as it turned out, Jill was not alone. My aforementioned father ALSO medaled in his division taking the bronze, tormented runner that he was. And...wait for it...I too was a recipient of The Bronze. Capital "the" obviously.

Since most of us had missed the medal ceremony, it was clearly necessary to hold one of our own. It's difficult to tell in this photograph, but Jill was standing on a pot in recognition of her Silver Status.

I was overjoyed. And somewhat emotional following our stirring rendition of the national anthem. Homemade ice cream, peanut butter oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, and cupcakes only further amplified said joy.

I wore my medal at various intervals throughout the coming week, and encouraged my fellow winners to do the same. I decided it might interfere with my golf game, glinting in the sun as it dangled from my neck, and I restrained myself from wearing it on a date. (Who knows when he got a medal last?) Otherwise, it's a great neck-strengthener. And a great reminder that MEDALS MATTER.

Let's get on that positive reinforcement train...as adults! There are days when you warrant a sticker for even getting up in the morning. So keep some on hand. And maybe distribute them to worthy recipients throughout the day. The childhood days of meaningless trophies need not be lost. Guaranteed there are thousands of warm fuzzies in that golden cup! Let them flow forth.

Basically, go out and win a medal***. They matter.

Race days=my best look. Hands down.

Miranda and Mom! Both successful runners.

Working it out...

***If you need a recommendation for a small race which distributes medals to each age division, let me know. I might have information on one. And am looking for more.

A Pianist's Publication

2011-07-27T21:28:00.002-07:00

While I have been woefully negligent of this blog, I did manage to come up with a guest post for the Washington DC Phillips Collection blog, "Experiment Station."

Talented vocalists and other musicians from Wolf Trap return to The Phillips Collection this Thursday at 6:30 pm for the second concert in the Vocal Colors: A Musical Exploration of Visual Art series. Pianist Stephanie Rhodes guest blogs about her experience interpreting artwork through music.

You can read all about it HERE.

And that will suffice for the time being. Someday I may return to blogging. Maybe...

La vie parisienne

2011-03-20T13:02:00.003-07:00

Être parisien, ce n'est pas être né à Paris, c'est y renaître.
~Sacha Guitry

I came out of the metro and was greeted by Our Lady of Paris---Notre Dame. An unnecessarily long train ride, the 9-hour flight, and 4 weeks of high-level stress (even for me) seemed to melt away in an instant. Next thing I knew I was dangling my feet over La Seine and basking in the warm Spring sunshine while eating a savory crepe. Adieu to troubles, doubts, etc. Welcome back Life. And Breath. I went to Paris but felt the calm of returning home. Home with some serious perks.

Amongst said perks: Quality time with some of my fantastic friends--The Lees! This couple has to be one of my absolute favorites. They're the friends that you'll run into and it feels as if no time has passed whatsoever. We filled two days in Paris with fun, relaxation, laughter, and quality conversation (we being mostly me and MJ due to Bri's work ethic). Proof of said adventures was more effectively documented Here and Here. Pictures courtesy of Mary Jane, given my camera's non-existent battery life.

Other perks? Nutella-filled crepes. Cassoulet. Shopping. Auditioning. Practicing French. And Russian. And Italian. I LOVE EUROPE! People-watching. Modern Family. Going to an Opera. Walking everywhere. Croissants. Macarons. Sleeping. Arm and hand-holding. Hair curling techniques. La Tour Eiffel. Arc de Triomphe. You know. The norm.

Post-Paris, my new life aspirations: merging the attitudes of La vie quotidienne with La vie parisienne. Working in Europe. And finding another excuse to go to Paris. Somehow it's home too.

It was a dark and stormy night...

2011-02-27T20:07:00.005-08:00

So maybe that title is slightly inaccurate. But it WAS a seriously damp and foggy morning.

Inspirational right??? Just screams "13.1 MILES! Let's RUN it!" Either that or "RUN FOR YOUR LIFE! YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT'S LURKING IN THE MIST!" You decide. But run I did. And within minutes I was dripping wet. Yes, I sweat. No, not to the point of dripping. The 100% humidity made for some serious condensation though, and managed to keep things quite cool (lest you think my positivity lacking). So then I ran. Hearing the ocean waves nearby and eventually starting to catch glimpses of the scenery made for pleasant distractions. And I kept running. Made friends with Kevyn around mile 7. Yup, eat that rhyme! I attribute my finish in great part to her. Yup, HER. She was my positivity when I ran out. Literally, ran it right out of my system. And still had to run. Her conversation and push through the last two miles got me to my finish and her part way through her marathon. Keyword: FINISH. I crossed the finished line, bent in half, contemplated crying, thought better of it, and went on my way AFTER smiling what may have been the cheesiest grin of my life. Said grin was documented by race photographers who want to rip me off, so unfortunately it will not be posted here.

The funny thing? Kevyn and I had a conversation around mile 9 that still makes me laugh thinking about it. We were discussing her work at the YMCA---she teaches boot camp classes, race training courses, etc. A wonder woman and multiple-marathoner. And somewhere in the midst of it she turned to me and said "Really I don't even like running." My answer? "I don't either!" And there we were.

So...WHY?!? Really I can't give a definite answer. Eventually a post on Life Lessons Learned while Running might be in order. But I'm still learning them so for the time being that's out. For now, I think there's something to be said for overcoming physical difficulty. For learning to breathe when it feels impossible to do so. For tuning out the negativity that can literally weigh down our step and slow our pace. For encouraging others and working to get not only yourself, but others across the finish line. And somewhere along the way, to have a moment where music stops, thoughts quiet, calm reigns and you find yourself.

After 2:08:46.1. Less than goal time which was 2:15!!! I was almost ready to call myself a runner. And do note the change in weather. A light sea breeze can go a long way.

Six Days Later...

My first 10K! The Rodeo Run was not my finest moment, despite my "Can I get a Yee Haw?" shirt. Somewhere along the way I think I might have said "To hell with life lessons." Perhaps a bit more mental and physical recovery time was in order...

COMING SOON:
Bayou City Classic 10K
Bluebonnet 5K---followed by all you can eat Blue Bell ice cream!
Angie's Crazy Half Marathon
Step By Step 5K

The aim? 100 miles of racing in 2011. We'll see..

From Turkey Trot to Mardi Gras

2011-02-17T20:50:00.003-08:00

10 Weeks of training. 182 miles logged. My first experience with GU. My first fitness magazine subscription---WHAT?!? Lots of Gatorade. Lots more water. A yoga regiment for balance. Plenty of complaints. One fall. A few tears. Solo. No music. Thoughts. Silence. And somewhere in the mix, a newfound love. Which I love to hate.

13.1 miles to go. But when I picked up my race packet and saw my number AND name inside, I felt a surge of excitement that might just last me through Sunday and the second race of my life. Here's hoping that a half-marathon will shortly be successfully checked off the life to do list!

The Texas Stop Sign

2011-02-13T21:26:00.004-08:00

There was a point in my life when things took a drastic turn of direction. So rather than settling into a pin-sized NYC apartment, I found myself roadtripping across West Texas with Mom. I had never been to Texas and can't say that my drive through the West was doing much to endear me to the state. It was a Sunday night and nearing dinner time when we came upon a settlement that seemed to have a few possible dining selections. Brief conversation ensued. Result: We weren't hungry just yet. Let's wait for a bit and find something down the road. MISTAKE!!! But perhaps one of the greatest of all time. As we continued driving, looking for "something down the road" it became apparent...that there was nothing. No more villages, settlements, towns, cities, or signs of life. Period. I began to understand what starvation was. A roadtrip without food at my every whim?!?! (Note: This was in pre-GPS days and we really had no way of knowing when our next food source might surface). And then, there it was, a beacon of hope blazing brightly in the distance. Or at least on the roadside signage. THE TEXAS STOP SIGN!

We walked through the door of Dairy Queen and into another world. It was a small-town Sunday evening. The sheriff was in and sporting his cowboy hat and boots. A table of old timers in their overalls stopped conversation at the sight of strangers. They needn't have bothered. I'm not a native drawl speaker and while I happily incorporate y'all into my current vocabulary, I was nowhere near such proficiency at the time. All in all, it felt as if we'd managed to step onto a film set for an old-school western or family feature. I can mark that occasion as the evening I started to fall for Texas, a state which has now laid claim to a serious portion of my heart. This song, in fact, was discovered for me by a MI roommate who might have heard about TX a time or two...

Singer-Songwriter and San Antonio native, Edith Frost from her album "Wonder Wonder."

The reason for this reminiscing? A weekend roadtrip and concert in Corpus Christi with the ever-fabulous MS and C(M)M! We hit that inevitable bathroom-break point of the trip, and lo and behold...there it was. The ever-present DQ. Clearly with the fates smiling on us, more than a bathroom break was in order. Note from the following picture who opted for the MINI Blizzard and feel free to hold it against HIM on future occasion.

Yet another trip to store away in the Texan corner of my heart.

Paris Playlist

2011-02-10T00:32:00.002-08:00

A brief mental exercise for the middle of your work week:

Imagine you are creating a "Paris Playlist." 10 Songs. And...GO!

I'm going to imagine I haven't already made a playlist with said title, and in that imaginary world this song would be among my ten.
But if we exit the Neighborhood of Make-Believe, then I have to say I already made a "Paris Playlist" this week. And here are my 10 in Actuality. (Capitalized to effectively transport you into that realm).

1. Strauss: Elektra

2. Mozart: Le Nozze di Figaro

3. Mozart: Die Zauberflöte

4. Bizet: Carmen

5. Puccini: La Bohème

6. Verdi: Otello

7. Berg: Wozzeck

8. Berlioz: La Damnation de Faust

9. Wagner: Tristan und Isolde

10. Gounod: Faust

Alright, so if you're not an opera nerd---apologies AND clarification: These are all operas. Go listen to them. If you already realized you were dealing with the operatic medium---congratulations AND clarification: I am not SO technologically inept that I would ever try to put the entire opera of Tristan und Isolde on a shared playlist. With anything. Period.

In fact, "Paris Playlist" is all operatic excerpts. Put it on shuffle and it's slightly terrifying. And seriously amazing. But I'm going to go ahead and guess that it's slightly varied from yours. (Because of course you participated in Exercise A.) And with my current oddities up for your review, I would actually like to know what made your list of 10. A "Paris Playlist, Vol. 2" might be in order.

INPUT!!!

Wrap your Pipes

2011-02-04T15:30:00.002-08:00

This morning I drove to work and found the parking garage completely empty, save for about 20 vehicles. Now, this is no ordinary parking garage. The Theater District Parking Garage in Houston, TX spans 18 city blocks underground with 3,369 parking spaces. On a normal day, it can be difficult to find a space. I find I'm frequently my most vicious when it comes to contending for said spaces.

SO....point: No one was working today. Why??? The epic snowstorm which hit Houston, causing multiple flight cancellations and sending the city's inhabitants into hibernation. Please watch the following video to truly appreciate nature's powerful hand at work.

The mayor encouraged Houstonians to stay home wherever possible, meaning that most of the city has been off work since yesterday afternoon. We at the opera like risk, however, and challenging the elements only furthers our artistry. Hence, no closure and Cosi recit coachings continued as scheduled. The adage holds true: The show must go on. Or at least the rehearsal of it...

Out with the Old

2011-01-23T20:33:00.004-08:00

I woke up on Thursday morning and my Blackberry, in a fit of self-destructive behavior, had complete erased the Contacts portion of its memory. While I believe my phone is good at heart and typically means well, her actions in this case were clearly unacceptable and she will be punished---I'm finally taking the opportunity to look into getting a new phone. 2.5 years old in technological years may as well be 200 hundred, so it really is her time (lest you think my judgment overly harsh).

Really, the only relevant bit of that story to this post is this: Overload. Which is what my blogging brain has been experiencing as of late. BB couldn't handle the Contacts. Too much info. I can't blog. Too much info to get out. Rather than delete all the proposed entries in my brain, however, you're just going to get random bits of them now. So that you don't consider getting a new "phone"/friend/family member/pen pal. Enjoy!

PLANES, TRAINS and AUTOMOBILES:

I was pretty sure Christmas had come early when I got to take a day trip to St. Petersburg. Not just because it's a beautiful city that anyone should be thrilled to see. It was the method of transport: Krasnaya Strela. An overnight sleeper train. It's ridiculous, but my 5-year-old self surfaced (Sveta, travel companion and host, seriously thought I was crazy) and I was slightly giddy trying to sleep. Christmas Eve anyone?

I went ahead and took a picture of the dashboard of the Volvo I drove while in Moscow. Yes, I drove in Moscow. DON'T EVER DO IT! Unless you're crazy. Judge me as you see fit. The points to take away from this picture: A) The temperature. Don't worry, it got colder. B) The kilometer reading. I don't believe I ever really knew how fast I was going. Lastly, you may not be able to tell from this picture, but the vehicle I was driving was a MANUAL! There is an exclamation point after the sentence because that has never before happened in my life. Thanks to two fantastic driving lessons with LMB before leaving Houston, I was quasi-ready to take on the Moscow roads. The quasi is only because no one can ever really be prepared for the mess that is Moscow traffic.

This picture has nothing to do with Moscow. It is/was my high school brother's car. I borrowed it my first day home for a week-long Christmas vacation. Needless to say, his vehicle is no more. And neither is a large chunk of fence just off the road in Alpine, UT. Look closely and you might be able to see the tree embedded in between the doors...

2010 ended before I knew what was happening. A whirlwind week at home, catchup with family and friends, the annual winter plague which I generously spread to family and friends in the 3 weeks I managed to be a carrier, the beginning of rehearsals for our upcoming production of Lucia di Lammermoor, and the next thing I knew I found myself surrounded by friends and complete strangers, counting down to a New Year. Fireworks, a few Modern Family episodes, and 2011 was officially begun. It'll be one for the books my friends. But I won't pontificate on that subject at the moment. I'll let my Blackberry gauge when we're ready to handle that.

The Severed Arm. Which I will not attempt to explain. You only wish you could celebrate Christmas with my family...

Out with the Old. Check...

Then vs. Now

2010-11-30T06:13:00.005-08:00

All I can say is it's lucky I don't use my fingers for a living. With the recent drop in temperature here in Moscow, I may never feel them again. I had this amazing conversation with my dad the other day, in which I shared my secret love of the cold. I grew up with snow, definitely saw my fair share of freezing days in Logan, UT and waited many a cold morning at the bus stop in Ann Arbor. And there's something about feeling frosty. A chill means holidays, hot chocolate, snow ball fights, Christmas Sweater parties---gearing up for this year's!!!---ski bus, cuddling, ELF, and lots of other fabulous things. I don't mind being bundled up and cozy and occasionally venturing into the wintry cold.

But that was then. I believe "then" was about 1 degree Celsius. Overnight we left the blissful days of cool behind and are now around a comfortable -19. And bundling's got nothing on that. I can now empathize with plastic surgery victims as my face freezes in one position on direct contact with the cold. But, hey, it's Russia right?!? Might as well experience the real deal.

Other ventures in Russian authenticity this week:

My first caviar. Served directly from a giant plastic tub fresh off the plane from Vladivostok. Amazing!

This is the inside of the bus I rode home the other day. You haven't experienced real until you've been in this.

My brilliant Russian family: Svetlana, Sasha, Dasha, and Katya.

My first visit to a Russian lavra on our daytrip to Sergiev-Passad. Sasha was kind enough to purchase a children's book explaining the history of the saint whose remains are interred here. Don't judge. It's an intense children's book!!!
And as it turns out, the onset of frigid cold has its perks. I watched a sunrise for about as long as it took to snap this picture and then ran while I still had feeling in my feet. Nothing like a dose of sunshine!!!

On the Colorful Side

2010-11-26T03:43:00.004-08:00

Red Square

GUM: The Galleria's Moscow counterpart (Pronounced GOOM)

St. Basil's. Look familiar?

My flashed-out face in front of the Bolshoi Theater!

Another Day at School

2010-11-26T03:16:00.005-08:00

While I imagine there's a learning curve with most jobs, it would seem that it's ever-constant in my profession of choice. Once again I've landed myself back in school. Perhaps a bit shorter than in days past: M/W 9-1 and T/Th 9-3. Factor in the fact that every second I'm getting schooled in Russian and the hours do seem to add up a bit. Luckily it's paying off, and even more luckily (if that's incorrect grammar, consider it as me just coining an expression) I love it! While school/life here can be exhausting it's also unbelievably rewarding.

So what does school look like in Moscow?

Well, first there's the commute...

A lovely store that cleverly disguises my metro stop.

We're pretty festive around the metro in these parts.

And that's my building. It's actually home to the Moscow State University dorms, in addition to the language program for foreigners. I mean...the authentic Russian university experience is a must, and 20 year olds will show you how it's done!

To inspire work ethic, I climb this set of stairs to class---not foreboding in the least---and at the top there is an all-seeing eye which through the marvels of technology, sees you, screens you, and buzzes you in. A bit of an intimidating process, I must say, though after adjusting to the system I will say that I don't think any actual screening goes on. I have yet to show ID on entrance. As a sidenote, I have seen more guards in Russia than I think I have in my entire life. Although perhaps ours are just kept a bit more undercover.

The view...

And the hall of learning itself...

Complete with the grammar charts which wreak havoc on my brain. CASES, People...CASES!!! And don't get me started on verbs of motion. Thanks.

One of the great joys of this school setup is the coffee/HOT CHOCOLATE!!! dispenser. I have the choice between Milk Chocolate, Hot Chocolate (haven't quite figured out the distinction between the two) and a DOUBLE chocolate. I go for the double typically. Hard core like that.

Unfortunately, I forgot to take a picture. Happy Imagining of the machine which dispenses liquid joy!

день благодарения

2010-11-25T07:16:00.003-08:00

Happy Thanksgiving!

Despite the slight distance from the native land, celebrations were had. Wednesday evening was spent making a pumpkin pie with a recipe from that well-known cooking newspaper---The Financial Times. Despite a few ingredients whose Russian counterparts left me slightly concerned, it turned out quite lovely! When I made it to the kitchen for breakfast this morning, it was sliced and waiting on the table. Can't say I've done pumpkin pie for breakfast before, but why not?!? I've had many a stranger thing.

After six hours of Russian class in which I was clinging to my American identity (translation: ROUGH day of Russian), the celebration continued with a stop at the Starlight Diner.

Svetlana, host extraordinaire and now dear friend, took a break from work for our Thanksgiving feast, which was entirely executed in Russian! Mom, it was weak in comparison, just for the record. Perhaps not foremost, but ever present amongst today's thoughts of gratitude is that we celebrated on Halloween in H-town. Bingo and ALL!

Forgive the poor photography, but through this you can see my standard Russian look. LAYERS! So much for a figure---right in line with Thanksgiving!

Tonight I'm especially grateful for family. For friends around the world. For love. For life. For opportunities. For religion. For laughter. For mistakes. For education. And for Moscow.

цветы

2010-11-22T02:28:00.004-08:00

It’s amazing how quickly a place can begin to feel like home. One week in Moscow and already things are beginning to feel comfortable, even routine. Yes, there’s that minor detail of speaking Russian which doesn’t exactly fall into the comfort category, but that aside…I’m home. Albeit a makeshift monthly home. Which carries undertones of “squatter.” But I digress…

I love Moscow. At first glance it seems grey and bleak, especially given a week of 0 degrees Celsius with no snow---warm for this time of year apparently, though my currently soft Texan self would claim otherwise. Conversations are direct, straightforward, blunt, and a slew of similar adjectives. Fighting your way through the crowds in the metro you begin to understand how the Nazi offense was stopped on the Eastern Front. And don't get me started on the drivers...

But a closer look and you start seeing in color. On nearly every street corner you can find a flower shop, brimming over with beautiful roses and arrangements that seem magical given the winter surroundings. And flowers are in high demand. It’s a generous city, concerned with gifting and gratitude. I have never been more warmly welcomed into people’s lives and homes. They skip the formalities (hence the seemingly abrupt and direct behaviors) and immediately want to feed and look after you. And the warring throngs of the metro are filled with secret courtesy. I’ve never seen gentleman quicker to give up their seats to an elderly or pregnant woman. And every hand reaches for change if an invalid is walking through the car. History is mingled with modern innovation, beautiful churches and cozy cafes amidst run-down Soviet housing structures. It’s cold but warm, harsh but friendly, and bleak but colorful. I love it.

I’ll be the first to admit I fall in love easily when it comes to places. I find people and their surroundings fascinating, and while I absolutely absorb the beauties and awe at the standard sights, I love the quirks. And quirks are plentiful in this city. While the occasional day as a tourist is completely necessary and certainly enjoyable, I find my daily commute on the metro, walks around the university, and stops at the market even more interesting. And true joy is trying to fit into it all, trying to understand, trying to speak, and learning something every second.

Mommy WOW...

2010-11-16T05:51:00.002-08:00

I'm a big kid now!

Yes that classic jingle came to mind today. It's amazing how functioning in a different language can take 15 year off your life while simultaneously adding 50. The stress of asking directions in Russian, figuring out how to get a metro pass which requires direct human contact in this country, purchasing a phone/SIM card, attempting to understand said plan you purchased, ordering in a cafe---the 50 years adds up easily.

And the 15? Well, maybe it should be 20. At one point tying your shoe was a HUGE accomplishment. As it should be---the majority of my current shoe selections no longer require it, in part given the complicated nature of laces. WELL, I think I've reverted to Age 6. Or somewhere in that vicinity. I have to say, successfully finding my way about the metro (luckily I had a lot of stops: by the time I got off I actually understood the announcement repeated at each statsia) and transferring to a bus might be one of the most rewarding accomplishments of my adult life.

And I'm pretty sure the 8-year old I'm staying with manages that for her weekly Spanish lessons. But since her Russian is far better than mine, I'll stick with 6. Thank you very much.

And just for the record, if you try and do a literal translation for "hot chocolate" you will not be served the American equivalent. Though the warmed chocolate pudding I was served as a substitute was nothing to complain about.

M&M.v.4

To Whom It May Concern

2010-11-14T08:20:00.003-08:00

I've found myself wanting to pen a letter over the past few hours that would go something like this:

Dear Singapore Airlines,

Having now been served Bluebell ice cream while aboard one of your aircraft, I no longer feel a need to frequent any other airline. Please amply reward the individual whose brilliance changed my life on 11/13/10 or 11/14/10, as I'm unsure of our whereabouts at the time of service.

Yours Truly.

I'd probably leave it unsigned. If they don't recognize me by the passion jumping off the page, I haven't expressed myself adequately.

Not only did S.A. serve me Bluebell and a slew of other airplane delicacies, they safely transported me to Moscow. And they did so WHILE helping me learn the Russian language! Cheers for the linguistic genius that created the video games which lead me to believe I now ROCK the Russian days of the week! A seven-word vocabulary can get you further than you may think...

So here I am. Basking in post-flight bliss---I've now been to Red Square, seen the Kremlin and St. Basil's cathedral, and am currently snacking on T.J's Chocolate Covered Peanut Butter Pretzels. And perhaps there's some post-flight confusion. Wasn't I in Houston 5 minutes ago?! Not sure what time it is now---but I'm REALLY REALLY REALLY excited to sleep, what time my body thinks it should be, what actually happened during the drugged bits of the flight (Zoolander-esque), and that small thing of...what the HECK are they saying?!?!

Obviously not a day of the week...

The Art of Practicing

2010-11-08T21:27:00.004-08:00

I believe in Practice. With a Capital "P." Just ask Jason at Golf Galaxy. The day he tried to dissuade me from purchasing golf clubs will forever live in infamy. There's something about golf that's apparently a bit complicated for women, and really most people give it up after 6 months anyway---it's just that difficult.

Welcome to Life Lessons 101: DIFFICULTY. It happens. Suck it up. Deal with it. And PRACTICE. Someday it won't be as difficult. But no guarantees that it will be alleviated entirely. Ever. Welcome to my Life as a Musician. And the love I have developed for The Art of Practicing. (This is a book in actuality that I quite enjoyed once upon a time.)

Jason managed to work into the conversation that he didn't work on commission. Shocker. All I can say is that he's lucky he didn't get a golf club to the head. Or elsewhere. I left infuriated and wouldn't have purchased golf clubs in my rage had it not been for my kind and patient cohort (NOTE: when I am excited do NOT mess with me. It's like canceling Christmas for a 5-year-old. Or a 26-year-old. Whatev.) Livid. Thankfully I did purchase clubs. And took some golf lessons. And practiced. And will continue to practice. Like I said, I believe in it.

As of late, I have been practicing for my upcoming trip to Moscow.

I flew here last Wednesday:

Dallas: Approximately 45 minutes of flight time.

I didn't feel that sufficiently prepared me for my 12+ hour flight, so Sunday I flew here:

Seattle: Hmmm...wonder which picture was taken with my phone? Go ahead and guess. 4.5 hours---same numbers, but that little dot in the middle made a big difference. It was decided that I will next be practicing the effects of various sleep medications. 12 hours...suggestions on how to pass the time are more than welcome.

As language must be practiced as well, I spoke random bits of Russian to my co-passengers to further my art. And maybe for my personal entertainment.

I hope Jason reads this.

M&M.v.2

Lists: 4-13-06

2010-10-28T22:17:00.002-07:00

I decided to clean tonight. MISTAKE!!! I should know better. It's one thing to decide to fold laundry, or dust and vacuum (am I the only one who always questions that spelling?), even just committing to the bathroom would be manageable. But no, I decide to clean which translates to me making a bigger mess. Cleaning means filing music, sorting through every stray paper imaginable, finding a more effective method of color-coding my closet, and so on.

So here I sit, on my bed amidst a pile of clean laundry. Blogging. Because that's related to cleaning....???

I won't attempt to justify my extraneous projecting, but I will tell you that I happened across my lists from 4-13-06. Yes, I'm a compulsive list maker. CLMD? Not the best abbreviation for a disorder---looks far too similar to "calmed." Moving on... Finding old lists is quite entertaining when examining how they compare with current tabulations. I found "Places to Go," "New Things to Try," "Professional Options," "Music to Learn," "Career Goals," "Books to Read" and "Lists to Make." Yup. Disorder. But it's SOOOO fun!!!

"Places to Go"
Hawaii, Thailand, Italy: Rome Florence, Milan, Venice, Paris, England: London + Countryside, Chicago, South America: Argentina or Chile, Mexico, Hike Grand Canyon, Cruise: ISLANDS - Bahamas, Carribean, Germany + Austria: fluent German. (How does a language stipulation make it on the "Places to Go" list?!? Seriously...)

ACCOMPLISHED: Rather weak on this one, but made it to Italy, Paris, and England, though not the countryside and not Milano. Chicago, Germany, and Austria--check. Fluent German? Nein. Hawaii and Thailand are still near the top, just for the record.

"New Things to Try"
Salsa Dancing, Surfing, Kayaking + River Rafting, Yoga, Being Organized, Learn Italian, Horseback Riding, Parasailing, Financial Investments, Waitressing (Seriously SR?), Long Hair, Consistently Smooth Legs, Run a 1/2 marathon

YET TO TRY: Being Organized, Horseback Riding, Parasailing, Waitressing (This has not been ruled an impossibility, despite it's oddity on the "New Things to Try" list), Consistently Smooth Legs---no judgement allowed 'til you have a 36" inseam to deal with! That's a lot 'o lengthy limbs...Run a 1/2 marathon (I did train for this at one point but alas, knee injury. I did just find my new half marathon target this past week though!)

"What I Want to Be"
Stable, Consistent, Respected, Loved, Friend to All, Beautiful, Confident, Poised, Soft, Refined, Articulate, Gentle, Wise, Trustworthy, Well-Spoken, Organized, Spontaneous, Efficient, Successful, Focused, Physically fit, Happy, Educated, Virtuous, Motivated, Youthful, Healthy, Innocent, Experienced, Aware of Others, Polylingual, Comforting, Kind, A Confidant, Valued, Free, Thoughtful, Influential, Non-judgmental, Teacher, Teachable, Admired, Humble

No comment on a lifetime list. Except that it's longer now.

I'll spare you the rest, but needless to say "Career Goals" and "Professional Options" have experienced an entertaining amount of revision in 4 years.

How's that for effective cleaning??? If only you could see my room...

Introducing: The M&M Series

2010-10-17T21:33:00.004-07:00

Dear Reader(s),

Let us pause for a moment and consider a topic which warrants far more attention than it frequently receives: alliteration. Your mind is probably instantaneously summoning up all the life lessons learned through this grammatical gift. Obviously mine is.

Rhodes' Rituals and Routines:
My dad would tuck me in every night growing up. Every night came the question "What was your best thing?" I wish I had record of some of my answers, as I imagine they'd provide a fair amount of laughter now. Life Lesson---Positivity. Unrelated to alliteration, I realize, so moving on. I'm not quite sure how Part 2 of our routine came into existence, but in a tender act of daddy-daughter bonding, we started a tradition of name-calling. But we wouldn't insult each other in just any fashion; we're all about class. A letter would be selected for the evening and all name-calling had to be done in alliterative form. "S" was always the best letter, in case you were wondering. Life Lesson(s)---Vocabulary is Vital. Optimism is not always Optimal. (Mom got upset that we were calling each other mean names, so we had to try the kindly route for a bit. FAIL!) And "S" rocks.

Alliteration has carried into my adulthood. I love M&M's. They're my favorite candy, and I'm not really a person of favorites. CLARIFICATION: PB M&M's are my favorite. Just in case the casual reader felt a confectionary contribution was in order. And I've been thinking a lot about M&M's recently, because there seems to be a series of alliterative M's coming up in my life:

Month in Moscow. Musician in Moscow. Moscow = Mistake. Misgivings about Moscow. Mental Meltdown over Moscow. This is seeming to be a negative spiral, but there are of course positives as well. Magical Moments in Moscow, Making Memories in Moscow, Meeting the Mafia in Moscow and so on. The negative just tend to have more dramatic flair. Which everyone knows is absolutely crucial.

COMMON THEME: MOSCOW. Just in case you missed it. 27 days to departure. That's not even enough time for a full shredding circuit. As it creeps closer, the to-do list seems to get magically longer. Item #1: Learn Russian.
This was my evening project:

I'm convinced my roommates will be prying my index cards from me soon enough, pleading with me to quit labeling everything in cyrillic. But I'll put up a good fight, fear not. I love those index cards. At this moment, I won't bore you by going through the rest of the to-do list. I do, however, intend to document my moments in Moscow (and pre-moments if you will) and will officially dub all future entries relating to my upcoming adventure as: The M&M Series. If my Russian rantings aren't your thing, be wary of this label. You have been warned. You sinister, sordid, slimy, scary, scandalous, sleazy, shocking, scornful, sly, snobby, superfluous, snotty, sap-sucking snake.

Now what was your best thing? Night!

Yours Truly.

M&M.v.1

2010-10-14T22:29:00.003-07:00

Ever get songs stuck in your head? No? Well here's a little ditty for you.

"Love me, love me, say that you love me, fool me, fool me..."

Take that. Now you should remember what I'm talking about. (Thank you Jim.) WHAT IF you listened to "Lovefool"---yes that's the official title---3 times a day for two months??? It might start affecting you. It's just what music does.

I'm sure the music stuck in my head at the moment is equally recognizable. Those hit opera tunes "Grimes is at his exercise", "Him who despises us we'll destroy" and the ever popular "Old Joe has gone fishing." What? Never heard of them?!? Well, I highly suggest you give them a listen. Maybe some cosmic power can transfer them from my mind to yours so that I can sleep again. Lest you think I complain, let me be clear: insomnia is a small price to play for such a glorious score.

But I do have to redouble my efforts when it comes to making myself sleep after finishing a late night rehearsal. Tonight that involved watching UP and eating brownies while chatting on the phone. Multi-tasking. Cures everything right? Except that I'm still awake. UP is quite a lovely little film though, and there's one particular bit in which Russell reminisces about being home, sitting on the curb with his dad and counting cars that go by, so on and so forth. To which he says "That might sound boring, but I think the boring stuff is what I remember the most." Yes, I'm waxing slightly profound in a post that began with "Lovefool." Deal with it.

HAPPY PICTURE INTERJECTION

It made me think of all the boring stuff that's made me happy this week. Which I will now share with you.

1. Bringing The Office back into my life. I love the theme song so much that I once tried for hours to figure out how to make my own ringtone without buying it. I may have failed, but my roommate Kara managed to get it. And set it as my caller ID. Few things made my day like our Thursday night Office parties in Michigan. And yes, I tried to put a stapler in jello for the big season opener. I've now been rewatching Season 5 and 6 to develop more effective quotation skills.

Michael: "I would like your undivided attention please."
Dwight: "You couldn't handle my undivided attention."

2. I never paint my nails. Ever. Except maybe a coat of clear. And then I chip at it until it's off. I'm some type of crazy pianist that has always felt a bit disoriented when I see color flashing back at me from amidst the black and white. But don't worry, my boring bit of joy for the week has been painting my nails. It's been done twice already since I reach breaking point and have to take it off. Only to repeat the process. We'll see how long this one lasts...

3. Beginning my compilation of Houston's Top 10 Water Fixtures. Fixtures doesn't seem quite the right word, but it is 1:30 am.

4. HIGH HEELS!!! I go through phases, but at the moment these seem to be a daily necessity. Guess there's something to be said for being 6'2"+

5. In my attempt to be more budget conscious/domestic I have been cooking on occasion and packing my lunch. And I decided I might actually really enjoy packing my lunch. It's made me remember all the times growing up when I'd open my little brown paper bag with eager anticipation to see what Mom had packed. Except now I pack my own. But that's ALMOST equally enjoyable. I get to pick my own treat.

6. Last the best of all the "boring" game. Plane ticket purchases (albeit one pending) from IAH-->>SEA, IAH-->>SLC and PHX-->>HOU. I repeat, last the best: MOM'S COMING!!! A phone call, a few tears (contrived of COURSE) and she's on her way to take care of me. Proof, yet again, that I'm the favorite child.

So...Here's to the delightfully dull tidbits of the week, which have accompanied the "exciting" ones quite nicely. And here's to THE WEEKEND! Which, against my UP philosophy, I hope for all of us is anything but boring. Good night!

Grief Counseling

2010-10-10T21:01:00.004-07:00

It is often in the moments of great tragedy that we truly come to know ourselves. Loss leaves us slightly broken and left figuring out how to pick up the pieces. That process of recovery will be unique to every individual, and analyzing how we best cope with these times of hardship is crucial in understanding ourselves.

I experienced such tragedy this weekend. After being in a heart-breaking 3-year relationship, I started to hope again. All the broken promises, crushed hopes and disappointments began to vanish as promised change and altered behaviors became manifest. I finally felt like I was in a relationship of trust and understanding. One of open communication and commitment to excellence. Every relationship has its weaknesses, and I knew early on this was no exception. But faults and all, I found it in myself to hope again.

Meet the man primarily responsible for my newfound dreams---Denard Robinson. With a more experienced offensive line and a favored Heisman hopeful, how could I be anything but optimistic? This weekend, though, we hit our first truly low point. Moments which made me remember the years of hardship. Seeing the Paul Bunyan Trophy once again snatched from our grasp hurt. Badly.

While pangs of anguish tormented my soul for a time, I luckily have done a bit of soul searching in the past. And I immediately turned to Grief Counseling. Michael Scott can always relate.

I lost Ed Truck, and it feels like somebody took my heart and dropped it into a bucket of boiling tears. And at the same time, somebody else is hitting my soul in the crotch, with a frozen sledge hammer. And then a third guy walks in and starts punching me in the grief bone, and I'm crying , and nobody can hear me, because I'm terribly terribly, terribly alone.

Knowing someone understands your feelings is crucial to recovery. Lest you think I've lost my optimism entirely, savor this next thought:

There's such a thing as good grief. Just ask Charlie Brown.

I am confident this grief will ultimately be for my good. Good grief. I would never be one to up and end a relationship simply because we've happened across a rough patch. Those come to all alike, and I am confident that come Week 7, we'll see a resurgence of all the victorious traits previously extolled. And so I go forward. Hoping for healing, optimistic in my offense and daring to dream for the defense.

Circles of Life

2010-10-03T20:28:00.004-07:00

There's a long tunnel that leads from the Theater District parking garage into the Wortham Center. And as strange as this may sound, it's one of my favorite places in the building---the passageway into a musical world that is flat-out magical. My daily walk through its tiled halls accounts for approximately half of my commute to work. And since it's empty 90% of the time I'm in it, it's a first-hand witness to my eccentricities. Skipping, running, singing bits of opera, talking to myself...maybe these are things best not confessed, but so it is. Through my comings and goings it's seen me in just about every mood: eager anticipation, nervous excitement, pure bliss, frustration and inadequacy, utter exhaustion, and so on. Basically, it's been watching me grow up.

Monday morning I entered that hallway and as I started my commute through the building, I laughed aloud. Yes, I was THAT excited to go to work. Crazy, right?!? Why? We started production on the project I've been looking forward to since spring, Peter Grimes. As an opera coach, so much of what we do is about preparation. First there are the hours of personal preparation: studying the orchestration, adjusting the piano reduction to be accurate and orchestral, learning to play it, translating the text (bless Grimes for only have bits of bizarre English), learning the vocal lines, and basically stamping your soul with the specific piece of music. And then there's the coaching and preparation that's done with the singers themselves.

Then production begins and preparation is put into practice.

On Day 1, I played for the first staging session we had and it was completely surreal. I sat at the piano in RR1 and played the Prologue for a conductor whose brilliance never ceases to amaze me and for a cast of world-renowned, talented singers. And it was all I could do to keep from grinning the entire time. Because almost two years ago I was in that exact room, sitting at a piano almost identically positioned and playing the Prologue to Peter Grimes while singing all the parts. Auditioning for the HGO Studio.

Needless to say, when I left Monday evening I was still completely ecstatic. Amazed at the talent that converges in a rehearsal room, awed by the genius of a masterful composer, and 100% overwhelmed because I'm blessed enough to be a part of it. And while I didn't laugh on my commute out, I walked through the tunnel that night profoundly satisfied and so happy I thought I might burst. At which point a quick skip seemed perfectly appropriate.

California Girl

2010-09-26T21:13:00.009-07:00

Greetings loved ones. Let's take a journey.

If 72 hours on the Golden Coast can actually be called a journey. I'd normally term it a quick trip, maybe even a jaunt. But that would lend far less drama to this post, so we'll go with journey. And not to take away from my earlier invitation, but I actually already took the trip. So you can feel like we're journeying along though, here's how it went:

DAY 1:

Hello Peter Grimes!!! Let's practice. We just flew to California, so we should really make ourselves feel at home. At a piano. Makes you feel adventurous, huh? Well let's go crazy and go to...the OPERA HOUSE! I mean, way to switch it up! This opera house does have a certain appeal though, given it currently houses two of my favorite colleagues ever!!! The most obviously exciting way to pass the day is with them. First in the orchestra pit for a lighting tech...gives you chills, right?!?...of Il Postino. That gets your heart racing, but follow it up with a 3-hour session of recital programming with one of the cheeriest sopranos in existence, and this journey is clearly none to be taken for granted!

Just when you think the day couldn't get any better....In-n-Out. Yup. Double double. ANIMAL STYLE! Yes, you ARE an animal!!! Feeling edgy? Let's go for an evening walk on Venice Beach. It's nice and deserted, except for the homeless population of LA. The moonlight and waves make it ridiculously peaceful. And only occasionally do you wonder if you're going to step on a needle while barefoot. And maybe it crosses your mind what might be the best method of defense for you and your companion---hooray for U of M reunions! But really, what you're mostly thinking about is life. How small the world actually is. But how scary it actually is. And really how exciting that actually is. Stroll through the Venice canals, catching glimpses of another realm through people's glass walls and you're about ready to call it a day. I mean, a journey doesn't ALL have to take place in the first 24 hours.

DAY 2:

Wake up!!! Let's practice! And go to the opera house! Maybe we'll go wild and network, chat with colleagues about the future, and try and make sense of this whole career thing. Which can be slightly exhausting so lunch is in order. And you have earned THIS:

WHAT?!? A BACON-COVERED MAPLE DONUT??? Who even knew life could ever be THIS good?!? I will forever praise Jeremy and the nickel diner for this moment. As if a quality chat over peach Fresca---also a new and delightful discovery---wasn't enough, this mind-blowing goodness came along. Tribute to the greatest colleague known to man:

Because you experienced such glory, you must in exchange be caused pain. Otherwise known as LA traffic. Which you will sit in for approximately 2 hours. Your only bonus? The Getty Center and some of the most fascinating architecture around. An amazing water fixture. Beautiful view of LA. AND most excitingly...a taste of Fall. The ONLY taste you'll get if you live in Houston, TX.

Maybe traffic was a small price to pay. Maybe.
Another productive programming session and you're on your way to being prepared for spring recitals in NYC, Chicago, H-town, and hopefully Utah! Run to the first two acts of Le nozze di figaro and you're probably about ready to call it a day. Funny sitting in the audience of an opera house where your only other experience was an audition from the stage. Perspectives people. They're entertaining.

DAY 3:

Remember that bit about the Golden Coast? Well, since you've been overly adventurous, you're probably due for that time at the beach. Unfortunately you woke up earlier than you wanted to. And commuted, despite your now realized fears of LA traffic, longer than you intended to. RESULT: You're in Cali and kinda crabby! SOLUTION: Target. Mindless magazines. Breakfast. And last but not least, BEACH!

Never underestimate the power of water to soothe one's soul. Serious sunshine doesn't hurt either. People watching and Trader Joe's chocolate-covered peanut butter pretzels are just an added bonus.

Should probably think about catching a flight. This journey's ready for a wrap up. Not really ready to head back? Prefer the carefree life on the beach? Maybe you should leave the beach without really rinsing your feet off. Keep some of that sand in between your toes. Take it through airport security. Bring it on your flight. And smile as you find yourself in a diner at midnight, downing onion rings and milkshakes with friends good enough to chauffeur you about. Because you're a California Girl and have sandy feet to prove it!

That's what I did.

Ode to Costco

2010-09-09T18:55:00.003-07:00

In a fit of inspiration following my first voyage to Costco as an ACTUAL member, I penned the following:

Oh beautiful, for spacious aisles,
For shelves of processed grain,
For purple grapes and chocolate cakes,
Your joys I can't explain!

Oh Costco! Oh Costco!
Thou shedst thou grace on me.
Bestow thy good, as none else could,
With all thy samples free!

Don't worry, that's only the first verse.

Oh beautiful, for dog and drink***,
Which leave me so well-fed.
Your dollar-fifty fantasy,
My heart could truly wed!
***"Dog" is actually short for hotdog in this scenario.

Oh Costco! Oh Costco!
I scarce can see a flaw.
Your fee, it seems, doth make me free,
Such love I ne'er foresaw!

I've decided to abstain on Verse 3 and 4 until further inspiration strikes. If you feel like you have text equal to the occasion, by all means contribute.

Now I just need to find a tune to put it with...

Paris, je t'aime

2010-09-05T08:55:00.002-07:00

Et puis, quelquechose est arrivé, quelquechose difficile de décrire. Assise là et être seule dans un pays étrangé, loins de mon travail, et de tous les gens que je connais, un sentiment est venue a moi. C'était comme si je me souvenais de quelquechose que je n'ai jamais connu ou que j'avais attendu toujours. Mais je n'ai savais pas quoi. Peut-être c'était quelquechose que j'avais oublié ou quelquechose qui ma manquais tout ma vie. Seulement je peux vous dire que j'ai senti à même temps la joie et la tristesse. Mais pas trop tristesse. Parce que je me sentais vivante. Oui, vivante. ça c'était le moment que j'ai commencé à aimer Paris et le moment que j'ai senti que Paris m'aimais aussi.

"And then something happened, something that is hard to describe. Sitting there alone in a foreign country, far from my job and all the people I knew, a feeling came over me. As if I recalled something, something that I had never known and for which I had been waiting. But I didn't know what it was. Maybe it was something I had forgotten. Or something I had missed my whole life. I can only tell you that at the same time I felt joy and sadness. But not a great sadness. Because I felt alive. Yes. Alive. That was the moment I fell in love with Paris and the moment that I felt that Paris had fallen in love with me."

Occasionally there's a film that sticks with you, and this is my most recent. Scenes of Paris, strung together by the unifying theme of love, and not just the typical romance. The quote above was one of my favorites. There's such a beauty and truth in the simultaneous expression of joy and sadness. Life. Opposition. Complexity. Beauty. Hurt. Hope. Experience. Love.

What a beautiful thing it is to actually live. To feel.

~La vie, je t'aime~

Heaven on Earth

2010-08-27T18:27:00.001-07:00

This Place

+ These People

= 5 Days of PERFECTION. Shopping with mom, sisters, and a supportive but perhaps scarred 17-year old brother. Trying to count the number of times my 11-year old brother said "MOM!!! She's being SO childish!" And doing everything possible to make him say it again. Picking out my sister's outfit for her first day of high school. Holding my new, almost-6-month-old nephew for the first time. Daddy. Getting my daily hug ration. Organizing a family yoga session for some of the tightest hamstrings ever created and enjoying the hilarity that ensued. Catching up with old friends. Seeing tears of pride roll down Grandma's cheeks after giving a synopsis and sampling of Peter Grimes--I blame her for my love of literature. Playing in church. Waking up early for family scriptures. Wishing I could stay longer. And praying for safety and strength for all until I see them again.

My heaven on earth.

2010-08-21T20:13:00.004-07:00

I was born to play football. And people tell me that all the time. I mean, my stocky build, speed of lightening, and just overall toughness seem to make it pretty obvious.

So, I guess I just missed my calling in life. As is: I. Love. Football. Period. (emphasis added) Mostly in person---I attended every home game possible at the Big House during my two years at the University of Michigan, even braving the wrath of my teacher and skipping studio class to attend the Ohio State game. WHO in their right mind is going to miss that kind of rivalry...for piano?!?! (Despite said statement, I. Also. Love. Piano. Period.)

Friday night I found myself here:

That's right. Back at a high school football game. Baking in the sun on the bleachers, the crisp feel of autumn setting in as the sun went down, the speculation about the upcoming season. And I loved it. Especially when I heard my little brother's name called over the loudspeaker, vicariously fulfilling my lifetime calling. I saw his first two receptions of the season, the two resulting first downs, some fantastic blocking, and VICTORY! I still find it a bit mind-boggling that my "little" brother was a participant---when I left home he was 9 and I could still take him. Now he clocks in at 6'4" and 185. And obviously I could still take him. If I wanted to.

It's possible you won't see me out on a field in a football helmet and pads anytime soon. So the fates have willed it. But as football season is upon us, I'm training as if I'm a starter. First, I'm altering my Netflix lineup to include every football classic film: Rudy, Remember the Titans, The Blind Side...feel free to add your recommendations to the list. I'm already shredding, thanks to Jillian, so no worries there. And I caught AND threw a football today! SO maybe I actually don't need to train. Like I said, I was born to play football.

I Hate Goodbyes

2010-08-15T20:39:00.003-07:00

EXHIBIT A:

Occasionally moments arise when I'm convinced I picked the wrong profession. And I can predict those moments down to the day, or at least the week (I'm only leaving off minute to avoid sounding pretentious---but I could). Add that to the "Special Skills" system of my resume. Along with my recorder playing. SO, when do such questions of doubt pervade my being? The End. It might be the end of a season. Maybe the end of summer. The end of a program. The end of a production. Time's measured differently in the opera world, so there are endless possibilities for The End. Regardless, in The End one thing is inevitable: Goodbyes.

I HATE GOODBYES!!! Consider Exhibit A, carefully labeled for your convenience. I love the travel, I love the new places, I love the new friends, I love the variety and change, I love being employed, and I love my actual work. There's a lot of love going on here. And then there's that bit of hate; capitalized, italicized, and bolded(?), also for your convenience.

I started this summer off in full-out tears when I had to say goodbye to Houston at the airport. I found myself blurry-eyed at our post-rehearsal hangout Clyde's when The End of American sojourn came and my peeps moved to Vienna. "But you don't cry!!" Exclamation of my roommate CM when I teared up with pride post-her rocking recital performance. Which may have been true (excepting of course in that well-known tear jerker film "Blow").

But what are you supposed to do when you have to say goodbye to this???

What happens when you have to split sisters and souls, yet again???

How do you just leave colleagues that in 3 short months have managed to become lifelong friends???

It's not that you'll never see them again. And it's not that your life won't go on perfectly smoothly without seeing them every day. "The End" in the opera world isn't actually permanent, after all---can't even begin to count how many times Tosca or Butterfly will resurrect just to kill themselves again. But life spent with the people you love is just better.

Hence, the occasional hatred of my job. Which really only stems from my love of my job. And of people. Dear Dr. Suess said "Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened." Which is a nice thought. But as it turns out, I'm a multi-tasker.

SSSSHHHH!!! JUST GO!

The blog in which They Love, I Eat, and...You Pray?

2010-08-08T22:00:00.002-07:00

Occasionally time stands still, the world spins a bit slower, and life comes into focus. The mistakes of the past vanish, the concerns of the future fade and everything's calm. It's like the universe gave a deep sigh of contentment, and left you with basking in the sensation that all is right in the world.

Saturday evening, in the basement where poor reception has been known to wreak havoc on my life, I started a coaching and saw my silenced phone ring. Enter unprofessionalism--I grabbed my phone and actually ran out of the room. So long soprano. Not my typical behavior, for the record, but two of my dearest friends decided to jump continents this past week and moved from Vienna, Va to Vienna, Austria. And they were calling. Bless technology! While I would have been excited to hear from them on any occasion, I had my suspicions as to the motive for the call. Suspicions confirmed: THEY GOT ENGAGED!!! Unprofessionalism forgiven, right dear soprano? I knew it was coming and had heard the proposal plan earlier in the week, but all the same, when I hung up the phone I have to say I was a bit teary. Why? Well, who really knows, aside from the fact that it seems I've recently developed emotions. It might have something to do with the fact that they're perfect for each other. Two individually wonderful people who couldn't be more extraordinary--unless you put them together. They're both on the list of people I'd like to be like when I grow up. And while their paths to each other weren't exactly direct, the EM+LMB combination seems to be living proof that things can and do work out exactly as they should. That life's as it should be and all's right with the world.

I had a Nielsen's concrete--thank you Vienna for your delicious custard!---for dinner to celebrate. And went to the park to eat it in sunny bliss.

As if that weren't enough to prove that the universe is perfectly aligned, I also found a brilliant pair of jeans during Tax-Free Weekend. AND managed to score them at 40% off. AND they're a size smaller. Thanks to Jillian, summer stresses, and pescatarian exploration (I'm sure). Did I mention they're long enough? Talk about all being right with the world!

Could things get any better? Well, I did spend Friday night sharing popsicles with my nephew and spending a chill evening with the fam--including CM. AND I taught my first Russian diction class on Saturday. To continue with the overuse of the expression: all's right with the world.

And given my Zen opening (let's be honest---probably the least Zen person you know), I'm going to end by telling you I'm excited for this weekend and this movie:

GO UNIVERSE!!!

Words of Wisdom: Age 1

2010-08-02T20:53:00.006-07:00

Keep your eye on the target. You will triumph over those who don't.

Ice cream does actually make everything better. And there's absolutely no need to share.

Do take the time to feel sand between your toes. You might find yourself amazed at how entertaining it can be.

When said sand manages to coat your potato chips, don't sweat it. The little things bring texture to life.

When on the campus of a prestigious university, it's best to blend in. Go for contemplative.

Water features will always be a wonder of the world.

There are people who love you enough to carry all your baggage. And you. Use them.

When asked for a kiss, remember: a wide-open mouth is always best.

A view means most when you've got a hand to hold.

Wisdom comes a lot earlier than one might think.

Adventures of a Pescatarian

2010-07-28T20:57:00.005-07:00

Let it be established that I love food. If you're new to this blog, understanding that basic fact will provide insight into the majority of my ramblings. And if you've been reading for some time and haven't picked up on that...seek professional help.

I have a colleague this summer that recently decided to be a pescatarian. And when he told me this I laughed in his face. Rude? Perhaps. But when food is the focal point of your existence, anything that limits your edible options is equivalent to starvation, dieting, depression, self-destruction, etc. You get the idea. He kindly explained his dietary choice, and I had/have a few problems with it. #1) There is no set spelling for the term. I've now found it in multiple dictionaries, spelled both with an "a" in pescAtarian, and with an "e", pescEtarian. How can anyone respect a trend that has such clear factions within its followers? #2) Did I mention how I feel about food???

So...I decided to try it. Dizzying logic, I know. Some called the radical move "solidarity." For me, it was much more---a full-fledged embrace of an alternative lifestyle: dietary restriction. At a round-table discussion on the subject, (yes I will make our break spot sound that legitimate) a few colleagues, in turn, laughed at me for coining it thus, due to what they deem my alternative lifestlye: religion. Fair enough. Although all this time I'd thought virginity and sobriety were the norm...
Ironies aside, I was a committed pescatarian for a work-week. (Lest anyone, pescatarian and Mormon alike, find themselves offended at this point, best to get it over it. All laughter was in fact good-natured).

THOUGHTS OF A NEWLY-INDUCTED PESCATARIAN:

Day 1: This is my idea of hell. I want a salad WITH chicken on it, and that's bad for me?!?! I don't think I've ever craved chicken in my life. Until this moment. Absolute hell. Wait...I can still have sugar. Suppose it could be worse---I could be a pescatarian on a diet.

Day 2: Need food. Quick. Subway? Oh, fantastic. Let's order the Veggie DELIGHT?!?! There's a first. Foot long so I can save half for dinner. Ugh. Doomed to hunger for an entire week. What have I become...

Day 3: Enough. Going to a fabulous DC restaurant to eat more fish than could possible be good for me. BONUS: restaurant has an Office quote on the wall. Does it get higher class???

Day 4: I'm rocking this game. Bless short-term commitments. Another foot-long Veggie Delight? Bring it on.

Day 5: Let's wrap up this nonsense with a little grandeur--FRENCH! Mussels and more mussels and SALMON! I love my life. I love food. Even as a PESC(A/E)TARIAN!!!

CONCLUSION: Stephanie finds it in herself to love and respect pescatarianism. It doesn't hurt to eat healthier. And she still loves meat. And the third-person. And sugar. And food.

2010-07-18T18:12:00.003-07:00

If you had to pick one word to describe me what would it be? Think carefully. But not too carefully. This isn't a pageant and I will not be offering prizes or scoring your descriptions. Although that sounds like a great idea as I'm typing it...

Overwhelmed with adjectives but think you have an answer? Well...you're wrong. You may have picked a brilliant word, something you felt flawlessly described me. But you don't know me. (Inflect previous statement with appropriate attitude). Actually, you might. And I hope you do if you're reading this. And maybe your word was actually correct. Retract every statement I've made thus far. You know me. Your word was entirely accurate--assuming it was positive---BUT in about 25 more days you'll want to rethink your word choice. Why???

Because I am shredding. Not a term to throw around lightly. And I just dropped it into the public arena of the internet. Bold, I know. But so is my newfound commitment to exercise videos. About a month ago I made several key power purchases. Really, they'd be better termed as investments than purchases, but no need to get into that at the moment. Especially given that my investments are safely sitting in Houston, TX. Apparently I have too many addresses on Amazon to actually keep them straight.

"But Stephanie," you ask, "how is it then that you're shredding?" Eloquently worded and wisely posed. ANSWER: a little illegal activity can get you a long way. DISCLAIMER: I don't actually subscribe to illegal activity and should any government official happen across this post, my behaviors should in no way inhibit my travels to Russia. Sincerely, me.

I'm now on Day 5 of Jillian's 30-day shred. That's right, Day 5. In case the repetition didn't clue you in, this is a big deal. You see, I don't do fitness. Love running, tennis, hiking, yoga---activity in general. But a fitness regiment? Nope. Jillian actually says it best: "Fitness is not very important to me." The End. Ok...maybe she follows it up with: "Being healthy is very important to me and fitness is a means to do that." First, I'm going to make a bold statement and say that fitness is actually very important to her. And there's actually no second. Just wanted to take a moment to call her out on her bluff. POINT: I once served my time dieting, spending hours in the gym, etc. But those were the days when I was walking around stage in a bathing suit. Adequate fitness motivation. Now I prefer my intermittent gym-going, lots of desserts, and the occasional obsession with exercise videos.

The challenge is in the 30-days. A fitness routine. A commitment. The reward? Ridiculous windmill and hip roll stretches every day AND my new one-word description:

SHREDDED!!!

And maybe I'm secretly filming an infomercial.

You could be...somewhere around...here.

Happy Thoughts from the Weekend

2010-07-11T19:38:00.006-07:00

THINGS THAT MADE ME SMILE:

*A Thursday-night, pre-weekend outing to MAMMA MIA! Beautiful summer weather, a picnic on the grass, and my dear Dana. What could make it better? ANSWER: A spontaneous dance party! The middle-aged women next to us couldn't resist ABBA, and the rest of the crowd couldn't resist the middle-aged women. Amazing.

*Chocolate Milk

*Opening night. Exhilarating! I hope I never get over the excitement of an opening. There's something magical about the process and preparation giving way to performance. Hundreds of hours, finances, and forces culminate in a moment of creation. Art in action.

*My friend, the Poet, safeguarding me from my love of sweets and the adult brownies.

*Gary and Elaine. This link led to laughter. And subsequent tears due to said laughter. Good thing I wasn't in rehearsal at the time. Oh wait...

*2 of my favorite country songs---yes the phase continues---in 1 commute to work: Watch the Wind Blow By AND Bless the Broken Road.

*IASIP. Even the acronym makes me laugh. Happily I have a friend who's also just discovering Sunny's hilarity. Shared laughter is best.

*Pretzel M&M's. We ate an entire bag sitting in the cafe of the American History Museum, while deciding where to go to dinner. And while seeing the museum was lovely, I have to say the chatting with friends in the cafe was probably the highlight.

*Fried bacon-wrapped dates. Just try wrapping your mind around that goodness. I now have a favorite tapas restaurant in DC. Perhaps not a wide basis for comparison, but a favorite nonetheless.

*Baby Mama. "Congratulations. I'm going to reward you with five minutes of uninterrupted eye contact." And PAM.

*Dolcezza: Best. Gelato. Ever. Period. For those of you who'll be visiting, it IS on the itinerary. And if you weren't planning on a visit..rethink that decision. Or live in jealousy.

*Witnessing and aiding in the sweetest surprise summer has seen. LMB flew in for the Maestro's second performance of Turco, and while it was thrilling just to see her, watching their reunion at Clyde's was priceless.

Hope you had a great weekend!

A Capitol Fourth

2010-07-04T21:54:00.005-07:00

93 degrees and I'm sitting on the steps of the Capitol in full sunlight. Melted Milanos, exceptionally gummy worms, and a Texas flag bag. Should I ration my water or try to drink it all before it boils? Or maybe just dump it over my head... Wishing I hadn't left the pool party and BBQ so readily. POPSICLES! Wonder if my tongue's still colored. The sacrifices I make for once-in-a-lifetime. I better at least lose some of my running tan. Bless these 4th of July fashion statements. I love that anything goes in the spirit of patriotism. YES America!

Concert's underway. Get it Gladys! A little Archuleta action---what's up with the speaking voice? Happy to hear the NSO! Should really try and see them playing a different program while I'm here. The stroller in front of me is filled with at least 15 water bottles. And the family doesn't have a child? Weird. Lang Lang really knows how to work it. Can't even begin to imagine how amazing it would have been to hear Horowitz play this. But since I am, I'm going to imagine I'm in his living room. And he'll probably want to play a few other things for me as well and then secretly transfer his skills to my fingers. Since we're imagining, all dialogue might as well be in Russian, me speaking fluently of course.

And Lang Lang's done. I honestly have no idea who Darius Rucker is. Weirdly enough, I just started into a country music phase this week. But seriously...no idea. I recognize Reba! Don't know the first song but I like the lyrics. Looking them up when I get home. Did I really eat all those MIlanos already? "If I'm not the one thing you can't stand to lose." Try to remember that for later. The fireworks started! No one even saw it coming! With a God Bless America sing-a-long. Somebody better have appreciated that amazing rendition I just did. This is amazing. Seriously amazing! How does anyone ever get over fireworks? Add that to the list of things that make me revert to my 5-year old self. I think I love going to that place a little too often. The candy addiction should probably stop. A LIVE CANNON! 1812 Overture with the NSO and fireworks is great, but there are actual cannon shots being fired. Bonus! We did cannons in Tosca...with a synthesizer. Real is better. I think I might have found my new instrument. Playing the cannon's would give me a fierce rap! I can't help but laugh. For no reason whatsoever. Strange habit of mine. It's like I can't contain all the wonder and amazement. This is me. This is my life. But that's all in my head. And the occasionally inappropriate laughter isn't. But seriously! How can life ever seem ordinary when there are FIREWORKS?!?

HAPPY 4th of JULY!

2010-07-02T06:03:00.003-07:00

Everyone always wants new things. Everybody likes new inventions, new technology. People will never be replaced by machines. In the end, life and business are about human connections. And computers are about trying to murder you in a lake. And to me, the choice is easy. ~Michael Scott

I returned my GPS. Yes, that very power purchase which was discussed at length with both family and friends. As much as it pains me to say it, Serena and I weren't meant to be. My first days in Virginia were riddled with fear, doubt and unfamiliarity. Which direction am I heading? Where's the sun? Will I ever rediscover civilization beyond these trees??? There may have even been a time or two when I ashamedly sat on the roadside, waiting for my BB to conjure up some magical path of directions.

Clearly I was not in the right frame of mind for a GPS purchase. (This might not seem logical to some. No apology.)

I needed Serena. She coaxed me through turns, gently guiding me to bear right, graciously sharing street names, even informing me of problematic traffic. And I hated her for it. With everyone direction she taunted me, laughing inwardly at my dependence, daring me to turn against her will---so she could immediately "re-route" me, lest I forget who was really in charge. Our low point came on a late night drive home. I was enjoying the silence of the morning hours, the lack of traffic, and an invaluable moment of solitude. She couldn't take it. Rather than see me peaceful and calm, happily functioning on my own, she decided to YELL at me, interrupting calm and replacing it with a shocking scare. I mean, who expects to hear a voice in their car when no one's sitting next to them?! Seriously...

I think she could feel something awry in our relations. That's when the freezing began. In her childish way, she decided to start throwing temper tantrums, determined to retain my attention. "Maybe when she types in a search, I'll freeze! That'll show her!" or "What if I stop working as she's driving home from hiking in the middle of nowhere? Take that!" She was probably even using foul language in her inner dialogue.

And I was over it. Over the dependency, over the behavioral problems, over the abuse. She had to go. And she did.

Do I regret our time spent together? No. Well...maybe a little. Like any 2-week stand, this held it's excitement and had moments of glory---effective directions, a quick commute, successful discoveries. But ultimately, it wasn't a balanced partnership. My independence and creativity were being stifled at literally every turn and I found myself losing the ability to think and make decisions on my own. (PLEASE watch that Office clip!)

So here I am, a free woman. A survivor. A free-thinker. An independent.

With my Blackberry.

Power Purchasing

2010-06-13T21:56:00.003-07:00

The Power Purchase is just as powerful as it's name might suggest. An arduous activity, this is no experience for amateurs---consider yourself warned, casual shopper. What might a Power Purchase (yes, this term requires capitalization always) entail?
1. Saving: any purchase that requires careful financial planning immediately lends itself to this definition.
2. Price: whether your Power Purchase falls under category #1 or is purely spontaneous, any high-priced item (this being a completely relative term) qualifies.
3. Research: product research is often critical when shopping at this level. If you find yourself studying, odds are you're investing in a P.P. Perhaps not the most effective acronym...
4. Endurance: You're contemplating a purchase that is going to be somewhat long-term. This product better last.
5. Excitement, anxiety, guilt, gratitude....Power Purchasing can be quite emotionally exerting.

And while I enjoy shopping as much as the next female, I typically suck at this game. I tried on three different occasions this fall to purchase a television. Still don't own one. I wanted the Waring Pro Belgian Waffle Maker on a level that rivals the Christmas Story. I even saved for it. And the only reason I now own one is because a friend decided it would make a nice birthday gift. Now, it's not always the case that I don't follow through with the Power Purchase, but I have learned that I frequently need a support team to do so. My current laptop required a friend/counselor to help me balance my pros/cons list, but I am typing on it. Ultimately, however, there's a commitment factor in a Power Purchase that I find slightly petrifying. What if it malfunctions? What if I invest only to find I've put my time and money into an inferior product? What if I don't love it enough to name it?!? And do I really need it? And frequently, rather than deal with all the assessed risks, I abandon my conquest and go to Target where I buy a $6 v-neck t-shirt.

Feel free to analyze my commitment issues at another time, however, because this weekend I was a Power Purchasing guru! Granted, portions of this weekend were paid for by sources other than my bank account, but they were commitments for me nonetheless. All meet at least one of the standard Power Purchase requirements:

Jillian Michaels: Yoga Meltown AND 30-day Shred. This yoga video changed my life---for at least 2 days anyway. SORE!
Rodney Yee's AM/PM Yoga: I've been wanting this ever since I started using my roommate Jess' in Michigan. Partially for the calming influence, but mostly for sentimental reasons. No explanation at this time.
Le Petit Prince: French makes me happy. So does the savings account I have designated for my trip to France...details forthcoming.
Garmin 255WT GPS: I have found myself frustrated on the side of the road one to many times in Virginia. No more! (This purchase took a solid 20 minutes on the phone with my mother while in Best Buy. Support teams in Power Purchasing = CRUCIAL!)
Rosetta Stone, Russian Levels 1-3: I've been studying the language for about a year and a half now and love it. Maintaining study during the summer months is not easy, but it's absolutely necessary because of my final Power Purchase.
A plane ticket to...

MOSCOW!!! Language study, operatic experience and lovely November temperatures await on my month-long work expedition!

Needless to say, even Target's $6 t's will be put on hold for the time being. Hopefully my Power Purchasing emotional high will last until they get a new color in.

Top 25

2010-06-07T20:10:00.006-07:00

Nothing screams "Happy Birthday" like a picture of my 17-year old shirtless brother. At least that's what he thought. Nothing, that is, except for the fabulous pin he sent me in a leopard-print card. If only he'd sent me something leopard print to wear with it...

Yes, I am another year sexier, as the button would suggest. Not that I needed a button for anyone to realize that Dylan...
In addition, I am also:

This one's courtesy of my sister Lindsey. Since she started working for USPS (thankfully not the hateful UPS) she's become a packaging goddess, and my birthday package was no exception---even if they were out of 6's. I have to say that I'm quite looking forward to 25 plus 1. How could I not be, given my even sexier status??? 25 was good to me though, and given my love for lists (thank you Lindsey for another notebook!) here's a "Top 25". I haven't decided if there will actually be 25 or if it will just be highlights of top experiences during year 25...the beauty of spontaneity and the flexibility of an asterisk!

*San Francisco: an amazing city and an equally amazing summer!
*Dean. I have always looked up to my little sister, but I'll never forget the overwhelming pride and love I felt the day Karlie became a mom. I have a profound respect for the calling of motherhood and I can't think of anyone more worthy of such a divine title.
*MOM and the girl's visit San Fran. I lived in 3 different cities during year 25, and it means a lot to share them with the people I love. And as it turns out, the 5 women who played mom throughout my life are fun girlfriends too!
*No more braces! Ever. Seriously.
*Buffalo Wild Wings and college football season. It might be rough at the moment, but I love being a Michigan fan and it made for some fun times this past fall.
*Catherine. I could easily think of a top 25 list for the roommate and sister who came into my life this year. Sparkle Burger, yoga, pedicures, and all the drama two girls can create!
*Waffle maker. I wanted a deluxe Belgian waffle maker for most of the time I was 25. And I got it as an early 26th birthday present. It's everything I dreamed and more.
*NYC audition trip
*3 dates that would have to make the top 10 list. Or at least top 20...
*Thanksgiving turkey cartilage. This was the hardest I laughed ALL year!!!
*Modern Family night
*Stasney ranch. Best beef of my life. No joke.
*Beaver's brunch: Bacon omelette biscuit!!!
*Christmas Eve with my family could be a highlight of every year I live. This one with my family, culminating in a sister sandwich sleepover, was no exception.
*Lindsey's wedding. SISTER!!! She was breathtakingly beautiful, as she always has been, but seeing her come out of the temple was a moment I'll truly cherish.
*Golf...or the driving range anyway.
*Daddy's special phone call
*New Year's Eve with one of my best friends during one of 25's roughest patches. I love my peeps!
*HGO Studio life. Not sure that I've processed my first season quite yet, but I've grown more professionally this year than I believed was possible. It scares me to think how little I knew when I started my job. And how much I still have to learn before getting a real one...
*Road trip
*Russian
*Maddox! Sometimes it breaks my heart to be away from family, especially when it means I don't get to meet new nephew #2 until he's 6 months old. But some things are worth the wait and I'm lucky enough to have a little sister who's helping brainwash him into loving his favorite aunt...right Dani??? Yet another sister I couldn't be more proud of.
*Queen of Spades opening weekend was definitely a highlight of 25. 6 family members visited Houston, witnessed my HGO mainstage debut, ate and played the time away! Bowling, the driving range, the alligator park, elevator ride, water wall, Barnaby's, opening night arm candy...if I were ranking this list, this weekend would be at number 1.
*Grandpa Rhodes
*Beach trips and possibly the most ridiculous surfing injury ever!

I think I made it to somewhere around 25, and I could keep going but this is getting obnoxiously long. AND, this much blogging is already cutting into way too much 26 time. But..

*Here's a final asterisk of gratitude for the people in my life who make every day and year meaningful. Brainstorming through the past year brings to mind countless phone conversations, messages, emails, and relationships that mean the world to me. Bits of my life and love are scattered across the country with all the people who've contributed to the 25 years that have shaped me into who I am. So...I blame all of you for making me another year sexier!!! Eat your heart out...

Don't worry, I already did.

Memorial Day Moving

2010-06-04T07:34:00.011-07:00

Memorial Day weekend started out here...

But a Friday jaunt across Texas, Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, and finally Georgia, led to an evening in Atlanta. Not to miss out on Atlanta's finest, we made sure to stop at The Varsity---as recommended by Diners, Drive-ins and Dives. The friendly southern greeting of "What'll ya have?" (actually uttered in quite an annoyed, aggressive manner) combined with the deliciously greasy fare made for quite the wrap up to a day of road-tripping.

Another day of driving through the Carolinas and Virginia and we made it to here:

Well...not actually to the monument, but to it's home city anyway.

Why??? This summer's adventures will be brought to you courtesy of Wolf Trap Opera, located in Vienna, Va.

It's a beautiful area and a wonderful company so it shouldn't be too shabby of a summer!

Sunday was a monument and museum marathon. We made stops at the Air and Space, American History, and Holocaust museum, along with checking out the White House and all the major monuments along the Mall.

As a special Memorial Day weekend treat, we were able to witness the Rolling Thunder motorcycle parade through DC, a group honoring veterans and drawing special attention to POW-MIA issues (just learned this on their website). Despite this happening agenda, we still managed a side-trip to the waterfront to visit the fish market and enjoy some fresh seafood. That had been deep fried. It was almost like I was back in Texas...

Monday was my first day at "The Trap" but it was a light enough schedule that we still had time to make it to the Arlington National Cemetery. I have to say, despite the traffic and the wait to get in, this was an amazing Memorial Day experience. Volunteers place a small flag in front of every headstone in honor of our veterans, and it was a truly awesome sight.

And that's a weekend! 4 days, 9 states, the fantastic little joys of road tripping, the even greater joy upon arriving at the destination and completing said road trip, and some serious sight-seeing on what must be one of Washington DC's busiest weekends! Nothing like a slow, relaxing start to summer, right??? :)

Photographs (excepting the Wolf Trap pics) brought to you by:

Tim: photographer and road-tripping friend extraordinaire!

Family Members

2010-05-17T19:38:00.007-07:00

My sister wrote a lovely little blog post recently entitled "Les souvenirs de chemin." Not to be outdone by my younger sister, I decided to seize inspiration from her stroll down memory lane and then one-up her. What any good sister should do. My inspiration is telling me to share this clip with you, in case you're unfamiliar with Penelope.

Back to topic. Here's my train of thought: "Les souvenirs de chemin"--->"Les chemins de l'amour": a Poulenc song Karlie performed on her senior recital at USU--->On said recital, Karlie dedicated a song to me. I teared up, having flown out from Michigan to be present. The lyrics of said song were this:

I hold your hand in mine, dear,
I press it to my lips.
I take a healthy bite
From your dainty fingertips.

My joy would be complete, dear,
If you were only here,
But still I keep your hand
As a precious souvenir.

The night you died I cut it off.
I really don't know why.
For now each time I kiss it
I get bloodstains on my tie.

I'm sorry now I killed you,
For our love was something fine,
And till they come to get me
I shall hold your hand in mine.

Needless to say, it wasn't the sentimental tune the dedication may have suggested. But I get ahead of myself. After dedication, emotions--->appearance of our 12th family member and emotional evolution from tears to laughter. One more arrow just for good measure--->SEVERED ARM!

Not your average thought process, but my family doesn't exactly exhibit regular behavior. Many a family memory/event can be directly associated with the severed arm, also known as the groping hand. Along with its debut on the recital stage, the severed arm was also the highlight of Karlie's wedding, the entertainment at a happening Michigan Valentine's Day party, and most recently the gift the Houston Aloha hotel bestowed on my father upon his visit and birthday. The groping hand is most frequently found in showers, beds---as even the grandparents can attest, and packages. It has made the trip from Utah to Michigan multiple times, in both suitcases and packages, and it's made its way to Houston several times as well. For being a dismembered member, it's quite well traveled.

I had a friend visit from San Francisco this winter who came up with the genius idea of the hand emerging from my attic, much to my roommate's joy. One of the highlight's of my life may have been when my nephew and the groping hand were first united. Hearing the word's "severed arm" escape from his lips made my heart melt.

Reminiscing about the severed arm truly leads to a lovely little jaunt down memory lane, for which I must thank my sister and her post. And despite my blatant claims at one-upping, I will say that I think Karlie wins this round. I will never forget the moment when she stood on the recital stage in a beautiful gown, concluding a wonderful recital with a stage hand bringing out the severed arm on a silver platter. Perhaps you're now catching the brilliance of her song selection "I take your hand in mine."

For the record, the groping hand/severed arm is currently missing. Watch yourself. Who knows where it may turn up next?

Answer me this...

2010-04-19T22:31:00.002-07:00

Did you or did you not think that my life ended with my grandfather's death? My blogging history might imply this was the case. (Truth: No. My life continues.)

Is it really necessary that golf be a silent sport? Somehow I feel that if I have to curb my inner animalistic instincts to cheer and exhibit emotion it's not a sport. Maybe a discipline. Despite the oddity in mannerism, I find myself attracted.

Would you believe it's possible to hemorrhage a vocal fold WITH a surfboard? And sound like a man for a healthy two weeks? (TRUTH!!!)

On an even more unlikely note, could you even begin to fathom lip allergies? I do. But I'll spare you the details.

Why is water so fascinating? Fountains, rain, the ocean. My current obsession is the water wall at our downtown Wells Fargo building. I could happily watch it for hours. Or at least an hour.

WHY are there salads at the Cheesecake Factory titled "Weight Management Salads"? And who in their right mind is going to order one?! I feel like it's an insult to the subconscious mind, that a healthy eating alternative must only be associated with weight management. And because I'm insulted, I would never order one. And I get cheesecake too. Just to stick it to 'em.

Upon meeting me, do you or do you not envision me dancing on a stage for thousands of people? In a nightgown? As appropriate or inappropriate as that may sound, it is a current activity in my life. Don't judge. Bless you Tchaikovsky and your little show Queen of Spades.

Just ponder those little tidbits. You can get back to me when you begin drawing profound conclusions.

Glen Adams Rhodes: 1921 ~ 2009

2009-09-20T22:26:00.007-07:00

Glen Adams Rhodes, beloved husband, father and son passed away on September 12, 2009, at his home in American Fork, Utah. He was born September 25, 1921 to Alonzo and Clara Woffinden Rhodes, the second of three sons. Glen and his wife, Lona Walker were married July 17, 1942 and their marriage was later solemnized in the Salt Lake Temple. He called Lona his "jewel" and they celebrated their 67th wedding anniversary this year. Glen and Lona were blessed with five children: Larry (Shauna); Kent (Chris); Dennis (Kris); Julie Ann (Ronald) and Randy (Kelli). Glen worked for 36 years at U.S. Steel Geneva Works; he became general foreman of the open hearth and retired in 1980. Glen was valiant in his testimony of Jesus Christ; he believed that the key to happiness was following the Savior. He served as ward finance clerk, Elder's Quorum President, Bishop and counselor in the American Fork Stake Presidency. He and his wife served in the Provo Temple Baptistry for seven years. They filled a four year stake mission and served as missionaries in San Jose, California. His good nature and warm sense of humor made friends wherever he went; he had the talent for making everyone feel comfortable and at ease. Survivors include his wife and five children, 31 grandchildren, 36 great grandchildren and his brother Don (LaVerne) of Idaho Falls.

A thought from the funeral home that I loved:

We should remember - sorrow shared is sorrow diminished.
If a friend of mine gave a feast, and did not invite me to it, I should not mind a bit. But, if a friend of mine had a sorrow and refused to allow me to share it, I should feel it most bitterly. If he shut the doors of his house of mourning against me, I would move back again and again and beg to be admitted, so that I might share in what I was entitled to share. If he thought me unworthy, unfit to weep with him, I should feel it as the most poignant humiliation, as the most terrible mode by which disgrace could be inflicted upon me. He who can look on the loveliness of the world and share its sorrow, and realize something of the wonder of both, is in immediate contact with divine things, and has got as near to God's secret as anyone can get.

– Oscar Wilde

The song that my uncle performed at their 50th wedding anniversary, and is truly a beautiful description of my grandparents:

Look at us
After all these years together
Look at us
After all that we've been through
Look at us
Still leaning on each other

If you want to see
How true love should be
Then just look at us

Look at you
Still pretty as a picture
Look at me
Still crazy over you
Look at us
Still believin' in forever

In a hundred years from now
I know without a doubt
They'll all look back and wonder how
We made it all work out

Chances are
Well go down in history
When they want to see
How true love should be
They'll just look at us

So many thoughts, stories, and emotions have been flooding my mind over the past week. Riding to Kindergarten in the basket of his bike, fishing on my birthday, watching in awe as he made the nickel vanish, picking cherries in the backyard, the constant quest to find the missing pocketknife at USU, homemade ice cream, Purple Turtle, driving into the mailbox, and so many more. His last three words whispered to my Grandmother a few days before his passing were "stay with you," a final testament of the love and devotion that I watched throughout my childhood.

Every time I left their house (built with his very hands) he would say, "You're a good one, and you can quote me on that!"

It definitely goes both ways. He was a good one.

Michigan Memorial Montage

2009-05-22T21:43:00.012-07:00

Here's to two years of great people and great memories!

1181. 42nd Street. Air hockey. Angelos. Ann Arbor. The Arb. A-squared. Afternoon Delight. Auditions. Bacon Fest. Baptisms. Ben & Jerry's. Big House. Bingo. Blimpie Burger. Braces. Breastfeeding. Brian Regan. BWW. Car. Celtic Tenors. Chicago. Chocolate fountain. Christmas tree. Cider Mill. Coaching class. Costco. COLD. CPK. Culinary Expeditions. Detroit Day Trip. Diet Coke. DMA. Donuts. Earrings. Enrichment Dinner Groups. Eugene Onegin. Fall. Family Bidniz. Farmer's market. Flights. Friday night-in. Football. Friends. Garage karaoke. German tutor. Go Blue! Graduation. Green. GSNO. Hair. Hill Street. Hippie Hash. Hoedown. Homework. Hommus. Hot chocolate. Houston Grand Opera. Ice Cream Social. Ice Sculptures. Illness. Institute. Israel. Italy. Katz. Kerrytown. Knitting. Kroger. LA. Laptop. Lessons. Lindsey. Locker. London. Man lunch. MASTERS. Mexican Town. Michigan Stadium. Mingles. Missionaries. Mocktail. Moore School of Music. New York Philharmonic. No Thai. Northside Grill. Nouveau New Years. NYC. Office parties. Opera. Parents. Party girl. Pathetic Trio. Pedicures. Pi Day. Ping Pong. Planner. Pontiac Trail Party House. Post cards. Practice. Public Transportation. Recitals. Recordings. Rock Band. Roommate Date Night. Rug. Russian. Settlers of Catan. Severed arm. Sidetracks. Silas. Singers. Soirée. Somerset. Sondra. Song Class. Stucchi's. Sweater Party. Sweetwaters. Thanksgiving turkeys. Toledo Zoo. Trees. UMS. Undergrads. UPS. Visitors. Wapakoneta. Weddings. Wolverines. Yoga. Yo-Yo Ma. Ypsi Lanes. Zingermann's.

Feel free to lengthen the list with your memory contributions!

GOOD-BYE MICHIGAN!

Monday's Man

2009-05-18T07:20:00.004-07:00

My younger sister was kind enough to share this list of inspirational thoughts with me yesterday, in the spirit of the Sabbath. May they fill your heart with the same peace, joy, love, and fear that I experienced.

1. If you have five dollars and Chuck Norris has five dollars, Chuck Norris has more money than you.

2. Chuck Norris can sneeze with his eyes open.

3. Chuck Norris can kill two stones with one bird.

4. When the Boogeyman goes to sleep every night, he checks his closet for Chuck Norris.

5. Chuck Norris doesn't read books. He stares them down until he gets the info he wants.

6. There is no theory of evolution. Just a list of creatures Chuck Norris has allowed to live.

7. Outer space exists because it's afraid to be on the same planet with Chuck Norris.

8. Chuck Norris doesn't sleep. He waits.

9. Chuck Norris is the reason Waldo is hiding.

10. Chuck Norris counted to infinity-twice.

11. There is no chin behind Chuck Norris' beard. Just another fist.

12. Chuck Norris doesn't wear a watch. HE decides what time it is.

13. Chuck Norris can slam a revolving door.

14. Contrary to popular belief, America is NOT a democracy. It's a Chucktatorship.

15. Chuck Norris' tears can cure cancer. Too bad he's never cried.

16. When Chuck Norris looks in the mirror it breaks, because it's smart enough to know not to get in the middle of Chuck Norris and Chuck Norris.

17. Chuck Norris has already been to Mars. That's why there's no sign of life.

18. Who would win the race between iron man and superman to the moon?..................Chuck Norris.

19. Superman wears Chuck Norris underwear.

For more Chuck Norris facts, you can visit "Everything you always wanted to know about Chuck Norris: but were too afraid of roundhouse kicks to ask."

SO over Orthodontia

2009-05-14T22:29:00.003-07:00

Many of us experienced the beauty and wonder of braces during our youth. The constant food stuck in your teeth...aching...automatic decrease in age...who doesn't want to relive those amazing times from their teens?!

Me? I say bring those times back baby! Why wouldn't a nearing-25-year-old want to feel more youthful? Aside from the fact that I got lectured about sitting in an emergency row airplane seat only a week ago...It is happening though. Apparently Ortho #1 made some mistakes, causing gums to begin a continuous receding process, amongst other minor issues. So round two seems to be in order.

9 am tomorrow. SICK.

Graduation!

2009-05-13T18:44:00.005-07:00

May 1st, 2009: GRADUATION!!! For as long as I can remember, I've planned on getting a masters degree, with a doctorate following shortly thereafter. Who wouldn't want to spend as much time in school as possible?! I assumed that checking off the second degree would feel a bit like the first---nice to have completed, but really just another small step down the long career path with miles to go before I sleep/eat/live, etc. However, it felt AMAZING!!! None of that small step business...and I was really glad I decided to participate in the ceremony itself.

I dragged my roommate Kara along and she was quite the supportive family member/roommate/friend. I owe all of the following footage to her skill, save the photograph in which she is pictured. I'm sure she could have taken even that under pressure though...

One of the undergraduate singers I coach received an award, so we got to perform! Nothing like rockin' a little Puccini...in COMPLETE DARKNESS!!! Please look at my music---not to be confused with the black hole that is the music stand. At dress rehearsal we had a bit of a discussion regarding lighting, and I was assured all would be well. Aside from the bit where I couldn't tell what I was supposed to be playing, it really was fabulous. Who wouldn't want to improv Puccini for a crowd of music school students though? Seriously. :)

My university cares. With the high number of swine flu reports rampant in Michigan, we were provided/forced to be hand-sanitized before AND after receiving our diplomas. We were also told we needn't shake hands. Which is of course the option I chose. I couldn't risk the plague...so I curtsied. Alright, not really. BUT there were people at the larger university commencement who felt it was appropriate to fist-bump the president of the university. Classy. And all in the name of health I'm sure!

Kara and I went out for a graduation dinner celebration afterward, and found that we had graduation groupies. Or just some friends out for a bite before seeing a movie. I prefer to think the former. While this may have been an accidental occurrence, it was the one that most made my evening. They did a brilliant job of playing my family: Dan (pictured on the far right) decided that we should go around the table and have everyone say what they liked about me. Once I finally finished, they didn't have much time before the restaurant closed, but they really made the time they had count. Seriously, though, this will be one of my favorite Michigan moments. It was so wonderful to be with friends and to hear them sincerely share how/why they valued you. It felt like family---the word I would probably use to describe what the Hill Street ward has been to me. I'm truly grateful for the friendships I've gained in MI. It was also a nice reminder of the power of positivity. I left that night wanting to be a better person, so I could try and be the girl that warranted their kind comments. Someday. Maybe after a doctorate...

So...from Kindergarten...

to AF High...

USU...

And the University of Michigan!!!

With a DMA yet to come...at an undetermined time. Here's to a break from school and "real-life" experience in the opera world!

Time Change

2009-04-25T13:20:00.004-07:00

Finished.

I played my last jury on Friday, and I'm free of the University of Michigan School of Music (excepting graduation, practicing, and one of Kevin's juries which I'm trying to pawn off). It's almost a bit surreal looking back on the past two years---how fast they've gone by, how much I've learned, how many years of my life have been drained from my soul...Even now as I type I gaze down at my hands in astonishment, and find myself greatly changed.

Graduation is May 1st, but somehow it seems a bit anti-climactic. My roommate Kara will be representing my family at the ceremony (still accepting applications for other family members) and I'll get to perform with one of my singers, but I think I'd feel far more fulfilled if I went to MIT and could do the following to celebrate my piano degree.

A piano drop?! Sign me up to pick it up with my bare hands and throw it off the roof! There's a climax, a celebration, a true sense of completion.

Despite the lack of a piano drop, I will say that this time in Michigan has been one of the most fulfilling of my life. So hard, but so rewarding....and still so hard. The recovery process will take some time, but the healing has already begun: therapeutic blogging, running, yoga, showering, sleeping, etc. I'm looking forward to the coming month in Ann Arbor/Utah, preparing for San Francisco and reclaiming aspects of life that I lost in pursuit of my masters degree.

Decision Day

2009-02-21T05:48:00.002-08:00

The problem with life is it's uncomfortable. For some reason or another, progression seems to go hand in hand with change, which is certain to lead to discomfort. SOLUTION: Abandon all hopes and desires of progression. Problem solved, right?

So...it would appear that my decision day has finally come. After a series of four auditions, I find myself headed to San Francisco for the summer, accepted to Michigan's DMA program (2 more years of school) and last night, Houston (yes Christine, the city) called to bump my contract offer for 2010 up to 2009. I was so excited that I stole a car and went to Chili's to get a to-go order of queso and molten lava cake (see entry below)! Thus, my craving and my excitement were satisfied. (For the record, the stolen vehicle was my roommate's). Despite being overwhelmed with joy at the thought of a warm winter, a return to the city and friends I love, a GREAT career opportunity, and being nearer Jonathan Fuentes---I want to get my DMA. I don't want to leave MI. **GASPS**

Yes, my friends, after complaining about the weather, my busy schedule, and my non-existent dating life for two years, I don't want to give it up. Because I have a cute apartment that actually feels like home. I have roommates that I love and are my best friends. I've found people that appreciate "Family Business," aka "Family Bidniz" and are willing to play with me. My ward rocks the casbah, and it's small enough to actually know everyone in it---I should probably work on that. And I have the greatest possible teacher in my field, albeit one of the most stressful. And fantastic friends at school who all want me to coach/play for them next year.

I'M COMFORTABLE DANG IT!

But I think I might regret staying. My teacher has recommended I defer enrollment in the DMA program and take the job for at least a year. I have until Wednesday to decide. Which means a weekend of emotion and conflict, the latter being something I occasionally enjoy but the former being something I avoid at all costs.

Why can't someone just make decisions for me? And WHY are my plans thwarted every time I attempt to become Dr. Rhodes?!

Symptoms

2009-02-11T17:57:00.005-08:00

Illness is frequently associated with doctors, medication and the like. Thankfully, technological developments have assisted in breaking those ludicrous ties. After approximately five weeks of illness, ranging from fever to sexy man voice, I find myself somewhat healed---enough so to realize that everything I needed to know concerning my disease could be found and diagnosed online. I ran a refined search on "the plague" and am now lobbying to have Wikipedia's "List of Historical Plague Outbreaks" modified to include the 2008 episode labeled "S. Rhodes' Pontiac Trail Plague." Feel free to track my progress on the link provided.

Despite being physically freed from the constraints of illness, I now find myself living in waking fear of catching the diseases which infest the masses surrounding me. Most prominent amongst my concerns? Pregnancy. That may catch you a bit off guard, considering my current state of singleness. BUT one of my colleagues with whom I share a keyboard is infected with child AS is my sister with whom I converse on the telephone---and we all know how easily the airborne virus of pregnancy is spread. "But Stephanie," you say, "what could possibly lead you to believe that pregnancy is contagious and that you may have it?" I answer with the following illustrations:

EXHIBIT A: Chili's Molten Lava Chocolate Cake of AMAZINGNESS

EXHIBIT B: Chili's Queso Dip. Golden Goodness!!!

And there you have it. My answer: CONTINUOUS CHILI'S CRAVINGS. For nearly 3 weeks, I've been haunted by visions of the images above. I wake up in the morning, glance in the fridge as I grab my meals to take to school, and shed an inner tear when I find neither queso dip or MLCK are on the menu. (No offense intended toward our meal-planning efforts Kara). Some of you may believe this is just a witness of my Office obsession, subconsciously manifesting itself in my appetite. You may be right. Chili's has played a critical role in several episodes...

Either way---pregnancy or Office side-effects---my plight is clearly one that is not to be ignored. Once the world has been educated on the "S. Rhodes' Pontiac Trail Plague," I will begin the research which will allow me to publish my current condition. Whatever it may be. Someday I may also take a bus ride to Chili's (it wouldn't be quite as satisfying a trip without involving public transportation), but only once the strain of the crave-causing virus has been identified. Until then, may we all find strength in our immune systems. And in the fact that pregnancy is, in actuality, NOT contagious.

In the Wild

2009-01-11T20:41:00.006-08:00

"I don't believe in coddling people. In the wild there is no healthcare. In the wild, healthcare is "Owe, I hurt my leg. I can't run, a lion eats me and I'm dead!" Well I'm not dead. I'm the lion. You're dead!" ~Dwight Schrute

There are those of us who are lions, and there are those of us who are dead. If you're reading this, you're most likely not dead. If you'd like to remain in that state, consider the following scenarios to effectively combat illness:

1. You've got a sore throat? Bit of a cough? Scratchy voice? Solution: Go spend the night in a smoke-filled bar/dining establishment and cheer loudly for Oklahoma in the BCS National Championship game. They'll only be defeated because you---a lion---weren't playing on the team. If you're dining at the Arena, I might recommend the Monte Cristo. Brilliant.

2. You (let's say you is a female in this scenario) wake up the next day sounding like a man. A bit unusual, but not too serious. The best way to handle vocal gender confusion is to take it to school, play auditions for most of the day and then come home. To get ready for a studio party that night. Stay out until 11:30, eat lots, talk and laugh in your man voice---how often do you really sound this seductive?!---and then stop by the grocery store to purchase some nighttime cough medication.

3. Saturday morning. You've got a bit of a Tylenol Cough&Cold hangover. Chug some orange juice, go to class---yes, some people actually have the good luck of class on Saturday morning so you, in this scenario, will as well---and then go out for brunch with friends afterward. Who cares if you can't utter audible phrases at the moment? Your un-showered, medicated self in jeans and sweatshirt should be shared with the public. How else can they learn to appreciate such natural beauty?!!!

4. If the lion in you has yet to emerge, at this point you should probably go home, put on sweatpants to further enhance your natural beauty, and medicate. A couple movies and a half cup of cough syrup later, you'll be ready to roar! In fact, maybe you should lure people into your lair under the pretenses of watching a "movie" and infect them all! An effective tactic to divide the weak from the strong.

5. Having successfully distinguished yourself as a lioness, forget the pride and crash on the couch, using what little time you have left of the weekend (Sunday already?!) to contemplate how to survive an upcoming week of coachings and a pending audition with no voice. Which leads to #6.

6. Conveniently have planned a weekend getaway/job audition in a warm location where sickness can not possibly exist. After all, you've earned 80 degree weather if you're the lion and not dead!

California here I come!!!

...

Jim: You work here, don't you want good insurance?

Dwight: Don't need it. Never been sick. Perfect immune system.

Jim: Ok, well if you've never been sick, then you don't have any antibodies.

Dwight: I don't need them. Superior genes. I'm a Schrute...and superior brain-power. Through concentration I can raise and lower my cholesterol at will.

Pam: Why would you want to raise your cholesterol?

Dwight: So I can lower it.

Winter Wonderings

2008-12-18T20:16:00.003-08:00

There's no place like home for the holidays. Especially when your family puts you up in the exercise room. Always comforting to know your family will make room in the inn. Even if you're not pregnant. Speaking of which...my little sister is! I wish she'd timed things a bit better so she could have birthed a baby Jesus for the family Christmas pageant, but she's not due until the end of June. I suppose we could postpone the pageant...

And the snow? It's everywhere! Tuesday night in Ann Arbor we got a fresh blanket. It was Roommate Christmas that evening and in an effort to get myself in the mood for white hot chocolate (it smelled like popcorn and turned out a bit sketchy--no offense intended Kara), I decided to shovel my driveway. Here are my problems with snow shoveling.

1. I like straight lines. I always have. But in an effort to achieve them while shoveling, I find there is always a bit of leftover snow that escapes me and lines the edge of my beautiful rows. I can't stand this thin line of snow. It taunts me. I heard it. I suppose I could be a true perfectionist and vanquish the thin line, but since my driveway already takes over an hour to shovel--I really spend time focusing on my shoveling technique. I'll work on speed next---it seems useless. Never mind the fact that halfway through the shoveling process, the driveway has already accumulated another inch of snow.

That's all I care to say about shoveling. Except that I secretly love/hate it. Or not so secretly.

In conclusion, I changed a diaper today. We're babysitting the 5 nieces and nephews while their parents are in CA. It had been a long time since I had last changed an infant, for which I'm grateful and will continue to be so. I also helped write/wrote my brother's research paper. 3 and a half pages. Intense. And I practiced piano with my niece for a bit. Most importantly, I got my hair cut. I only do so when I'm in UT, which isn't very often, so I find myself grateful once again.

And I like snow. Especially when there are mountains and ski slopes to go with it. I'm learning to snowboard over break. My brother, who is now approximately 6'2"--YAY for tall boys!, will be my teacher. Still dealing with the concept of a 16-year old teacher.

Here's to 3 weeks in Utah!

The END

(DISCLAIMER: The snow shoveling man is, in fact, not me. I'm just sayin'...)

Intervention emails?

2008-12-09T06:20:00.003-08:00

I opened my inbox this morning to find emails from the National Body Challenge and MHealthy Wellness Assessments, the U of M's health program. One had the subject heading, "Why We're Fat." Talk about a slap in the face from the great beyond. Included was the following quote by Thomas Jefferson:

"We never repent of having eaten too little."

Harsh. I suppose that means we should repent for eating too much. I won't do it. But I am going to the gym. The mystical powers of the internet and email were too perfectly timed to disregard. And I repeat, harsh.

Trendy...

2008-12-07T20:37:00.006-08:00

I'm all about introspection. Pinpointing trends in my life, evaluating my behavior, finding myself flawless, and moving on. So...not entirely true, but as I was uploading some pictures this evening from my camera, I caught a trend worthy of contemplation.

Yes, the trend is food. Apparently, the past two weeks of my life have been joy-filled because they were food-filled.

I went to Texas. Which meant, I had to have Tex Mex. And go to Barnaby's, the greatest salad establishment in the state. Niko Niko's was a must, since good Greek food is almost non-existent in Ann Arbor and I hadn't been to PF Chang's in over a year so...Compound this with the fact that it was Thanksgiving and you're probably beginning to understand why I had such a great time in Houston. Eating myself into oblivion. (For the record, there was only one day I ate pie for every meal).

Upon returning to MI, it was evident that a Second Thanksgiving was in order. First, my roommates and myself are really just that grateful. Second, we had no leftovers. You decide which was the primary motivation, but it clearly had to happen. And about Twelfth Thanksgiving is still sitting in our fridge. The beauty of leftovers.

This trend might seem problematic. Could eating so much, so consistently really be that healthy? I appreciate your concern, but rest assured that it is unwarranted. Why? Because food fills me with joy. A simple cup of hot chocolate piled with whip cream, chocolate chips, and anything else that I can throw in it, makes all seem right in the world. And if I have developed such a knack for enjoying the simple pleasures of life, should I feel guilt or concern about that talent? I hate to be consistently stealing the words of another, but take the example of Michael Scott:

"I enjoy having breakfast in bed. I like waking up to the smell of bacon- sue me- and since I don't have a butler, I have to do it myself. So most nights before I go to bed I will lay six strips of bacon out on my George Foreman Grill. Then I go to sleep. When I wake up, I plug in the grill. I go back to sleep again. Then I wake up to the smell of crackling bacon. It is delicious. It's good for me. It's the perfect way to start the day."

So simple, yet so profound. Perhaps a bit dangerous considering the injury which ensued, but the premise was accurate. Food = Happiness = Health. I could see this evolving into a top-selling self-help book...something about healthy living and living healthily not being synonymous. More focus placed on having a healthy appetite, and a healthy figure. It's a message our society needs to hear. Comfort food is a constant! It will ALWAYS comfort you!

And this is my life as evidenced by my photos of the past two weeks. Cradling the 2nd Thanksgiving turkey may have been a bit much, but...I've burned far too many calories typing this post, so no apologies. A quick run (or slow waddle) to the fridge is in order. Bon appetit!

Who Am I?

2008-11-23T19:12:00.004-08:00

Might seem like an intense title for a blog post. Inspired by Zoolander, of course it rings of depth and profundity. The answer to the question Derek poses to himself? "I don't know. I guess I have a lot of things to ponder."

I have justifiably been taking Derek Zoolander as an example in my life and pondering the same subject. Who am I? You might be asking yourself why, and rightfully so, someone as confident and humble as myself would need to reflect on such a topic. Here's why:

We all know that media portrays only truth, and there are obviously situations in which people transform personalities/physique completely. While I have yet to turn into a steroid-eating, woman-chasing monster (my man-hunting has not yet reached monster qualification levels), I do feel that I occasionally experience the duplicity of personalities this movie so clearly portrays. In this film, drugs are the transformation catalyst. In my life? Stress.

Here I sit in Houston, having finished the opera, my Masters recital, and a series of stressful auditions, and I find myself a calm and overwhelmingly pleasant individual. While in Michigan under the strains of graduate school, I tend to feel more like the woman pictured below. No, it is not actually me, though I do tend to react to stress by dressing in a similar fashion.

I admittedly let stress get the best of me on occasion. I become more abrupt, less conversational, and make appallingly racist jokes. When I leave the pressure of my program, I look at my planner without hyperventilating, I do crazy things like read for pleasure, and I still make racist jokes. I mean, a girl's got to be a little consistent...

While it's clearly not ideal to be at least two individuals (I want to name at least one side of me Bon Qui Qui in tribute to my "outta da hood program" sistah), I feel comforted in knowing I am not the only one who finds it difficult to cope with the stresses placed upon me (primarily by myself). My dear friend Michael Scott understands the realities which I face. Some of you may recall the Season 3 Episode entitled "Safety Training." This is the plan he develops to more effectively help the Dunder Mifflin office understand the dangers of stress in the workplace, depression being the primary side-effect in his example.

"You may be asking yourself, "What am I doing on a trampoline?" Well, I thought I'd bounce here for a while, relieve some stress, and then move on with my day. Not! Here's the plan. Dwight, is going to gather all of the office workers and all of the warehouse guys, we're going to have another safety seminar. Only this time, where's Michael? Oh my God! He is on the roof! Now I have got their attention. I... tell them, about the cold hard facts of depression. And then I say, "Hey! You ever seen a suicide?" And I jump. And they freak out. And they get to see... the dangers of depression with their own eyes. Nice side note: They might think "Hey, I should have been nicer to Michael." But that's... not why I'm doing this... Then, I land on the trampoline, take a couple extra bounces for fun. I climb off, walk around the corner... Ta-freakin'-da."

I have no immediate plans to implement such an example in my life, as I am content with my current reflections. Simply recognizing my dual-personality and my poor habits in coping with stress have inspired me to make some changes in my life. I don't know what they are yet, but hopefully those inspirations will follow shortly.

Observations aside, I got the job I flew to NYC to audition for last week! It's in San Francisco and I'm psyched! (But not in the crazy way I've been discussing in this post). "Ta-freakin' da!" Here's hoping I get a year round job next....:)

How sweet it is...

2008-11-19T22:14:00.003-08:00

I love what I do. Even more importantly, I love that there are people who love me and support me in what I do. I just spent a wonderful weekend with my parents who came to visit me, see the opera I've been working on all semester, and listen to my second Masters recital. I'm afraid I was a bit stressed over the weekend with a research paper hanging over my head and a recital to play on Monday, but I loved having them here.

It was also an amazing sensation to play a recital for a hall filled with so many of my friends from the various aspects of my life: church, school---I guess those are the only aspects of my life, but still...:) I loved walking out from the green room following the performance and seeing so many of the people who make my life possible in one place. Thank you to all those who put forth so much effort to be there!

Do svidaniya

2008-11-08T21:33:00.003-08:00

At this point in the semester, survival is the objective. Successful survival is the ideal. Life starts feeling a bit like a video game: I have to beat a level and in order to do that I have to first destroy the freaky little monsters, then jump over a lake of fire, and finally kill the big bad creature at the end. (So what if I haven't played video games since the original Mario Bros when I was 8!) Point being, with each obstacle you pass successfully you're one step closer to winning. Or surviving in this metaphor.

Well...I totally made it past the freaky little monsters! I played my piano dress rehearsal for Eugene Onegin today and now I get to bow out and let the orchestra step in. I'm finished with the opera.

UCTSOMPWWSTSMPTTMLOCFR

2008-11-04T20:28:00.003-08:00

I believe that in today's society one must be wary of the acronym. When the need arises to mask the complexity of an operation behind a series of capitalized letters, the validity of such an organization is drawn into question. In truth, I reference only one specific acronym---UPS. For those of you who spend time on www.acronymfinder.com, let me clarify: I am referencing United Parcel Service, and not Underwater Photographic Society as you may have initially suspected.

I wage an ongoing war with UPS. It consists of me purchasing articles online (I'm actually an Amazon Prime member, and make good use of that membership), and UPS attempting to deliver them. I miss the initial delivery, as I tend to be away from home ALWAYS, and they leave me an official notice which says they'll try again the next day. Sometime between the hours of 8-11, 11-3, or 3-5. So could I possibly arrange my schedule so they can deliver it in that time frame? Needless to say, I miss the package, they repeat the process, refusing adamantly to leave anything at our house without a signature. My free 2-day shipping becomes free 2-week shipping while my packages gather dust in a warehouse 20 minutes away.

I occasionally make the sojourn to Ypsilanti, taking my knife with me of course, and brave the UPS facility. As I did today. The forces of Utterly Pathetic Service were aligned against me and just as I handed over my package slip, all the power died in the building. This left me stumbling blindly about in the darkness (with knife in hand of course), knocking over towers of packages, and eventually taking shelter in a vacant brown delivery truck. Or maybe not---BUT in the twenty minutes I waited for the computer system to reboot this wouldn't have been an impossibility. I was thrilled when I could finally learn the status of my package. As the Unhurried Product Salesman pronounced my package sentence, I could do nothing but gaze at him in horror and disgust. My package had been returned?!?! Without me receiving notification? (For the record, UPS claims they informed me on a postcard. But delivery was most likely attempted somewhere within a 24-hour time when I was expected to be patiently waiting at the door for a delivery). And thus passed my Ultimately Pointless Sojourn.

The acronym won this round. But thankfully I am not alone in dealing with the complexities of UPS.

Please stay tuned for updates concerning the status of my package which was supposed to ship my PowerbookG4 to the magical land of CA for repairs: UCTSOMPWWSTSMPTTMLOCFR. I mean, what good is only a 3-letter acronym anyway?

All in a day's work...

2008-10-12T17:33:00.005-07:00

You can learn how to anything online. But that doesn't necessarily mean you should.

I believe in do-it-yourself projects. Sometimes. Mostly when it saves me money. Or just when I get random urges to beat "the system." That invisible world of "they" who are out there to take my money because I know nothing about "their" line of specialty. The automotive repairs "system" for example. Whenever I have to take my car in for repairs, I have no choice but to believe what they tell me, smile prettily and hope for a nice employee and a discount. I have no power, because I know nothing about cars. Vicious system. I no longer have a car in an effort to protest against "them." (Amongst other more practical reasons, such as it dying and leaving me stranded in Wapakaneta, OH.) Anyway...

On Monday, September 22nd, my hard drive died. And no, I had NOT backed up ALL my files, but thank you for asking and reminding me of my idiocy. Thankfully, I didn't lose much, but I AM still mourning the loss of this summer's pictures. Without a functioning hard drive, I found myself facing a decision. New computer? My 12" Powerbook G4 is my child. Could I really replace her so easily? Plus a new laptop is quite an investment (I'm committed to remaining in Mac realm) and I'm not sure I can take that type of financial plunge at the moment. The only other alternative was repair. But $300+ to spend on a child who's natural lifespan would be no more than another year or so...

I chose Option C. The "I can learn how to do anything on the internet so why should I pay a professional?" route. Here's how my last Wednesday night went down.

BEFORE:

AFTER:

SOMEWHERE IN BETWEEN:

Feel free to note the amazing method in which I kept the 1,789,343 invisible screws sorted.

After a couple hours of intense concentration (I can see why 12" Powerbook repairs are more expensive--tiny parts!) I had completely taken apart my computer and resassembled it with a new hard drive. The only casualty was the F2 key. With great anticipation I pushed the power button, having renewed my child's life--bringing her back from the dead if you will. And...

It didn't work.

But I really enjoyed myself! And just for the record, I think I might have just gotten a faulty new hard drive. There's no way the error could have been in the repairs. Needless to say, my baby is now safely scheduled for a doctor's appointment to diagnose her current illness. (I will NOT tell them I tried repairing it myself.)

MORAL OF THE STORY: Do not attempt do-it-yourself projects if you see the *****VERY CAREFULLY***** in the instructions. Chances are you're not qualified to deal with directions that come in CAPS and are surrounded by foreboding stars.

Extraterrestrial Evidence

2008-09-09T20:46:00.008-07:00

If you were wondering if "returning to Michigan" is synonymous with "dropping off the face of the planet," this entry is to reassure you that it is. Which makes me scientific evidence that life exists beyond this Earth. Add that to a resume!
POINT: I am alive, and slowly taking control of the life that awaited me here in this northern wilderness.

The semester started almost before I arrived, my first meeting with the conductor of our fall opera (my teacher) was scheduled for the Sunday before school started. I arrived Friday evening, and immediately set up camp at the music school. Aside from the time I spend sleeping--which I value VERY much--I have maintained that camp and done so at least somewhat effectively. The opera's going well, my Russian's improving rapidly and I now know a plethora of words that I'm sure will be enormously helpful in everyday conversation: eternity, sermon, fate, duel, etc. But who ever said that opera was practical?

Speaking of practical, I've started filling out JOB applications. Yes, it might seem a bit strange to you that I would actually abandon my calling in the classroom and my short-term summer jobs, but the time has come...maybe. More school is not entirely out of the question as the DMA program here is quite compelling. Anyway...how many jobs do you have to apply for that require a headshot?!?! Well, ALL of mine do. Welcome to the world of performance! So while I was in UT I did a quick shoot with an amazing photographer and instead of doing JUST headshots, we decided to have a good time. She just happened to have a leopard print umbrella on hand...
Here are a few of the pics:

You can check out more of Brooke's work here or on her blog. She's fantastic (and you'll probably see some gorgeous pictures of my sister Dani's wedding as well).

So, here are the current cities under consideration for future residency. Let me know your preferences as I have yet to decide mine---though the decision will most likely be determined by a future employer. :)

Houston, TX
Washington D.C.
Los Angeles, CA
San Francisco, CA
Miami, FL

Here's to a crazy fall of auditions, opera, the "rebuilding" of the MI Wolverine football team, and my last year of life as a student! Maybe...

Jail Break

2008-08-25T08:22:00.009-07:00

Frequently people neglect to see the similarities in my profession and serving time in jail. Understandable considering there aren't many. But I will ask you to consider for a moment, the black and white striped prison attire of yore. And the usage of the expression "behind bars." Now, consider the following taking special care to note the colors of the image:

Yes, that's right. Black and white. And stripes. Anyone ever thought about how musical measures are referred to as "bars" and that university practice rooms are actually called cells?
Well, the latter is a blatant falsehood and the similarities may end there, but I thought it was a topic worth considering. Especially since during my stay in Utah I have spent approximately 9 hours a day seeing black and white---keys, scores, you name it. I'm up against a serious deadline, so I wasn't leaving the house, my appearance was far from attractive and my hygiene was becoming questionable. (All tendencies experienced while serving time). While going stir crazy, I realized something needed to be done. Something drastic. So, instead of just stepping outside like a normal individual, I left the state. On a jet plane. (Insert music here).
My weekend in Houston was fantastic. It was a melding of my worlds as I introduced friends from my Utah life to my Texans. Got a dose of Tex Mex, more chocolate chip cookies than could possibly be good for any individual, and a healthy new mindset. Which made coming back to the keys today the wonderful job that it is, instead of drudgery and jail time.

As proof that this actually happened---I DID leave the piano room---I have pics of me with people that were known to be in TX over the weekend.

Adam Smith. Only two simple words that describe the funniest man alive. Adam Smith.

An evening out at the Galleria Mall and Cheesecake Factory.

ANN!!! She's beautiful, talented, fantastic--and now she lives in Texas! Could things get any better?!

Sondra's dinner appetizer at Cheesecake Factory. Just one of the many reasons we get along exceptionally well.

Ever heard of Lip Venom? A lip plumper for those who might long for a fuller look. This condition is called Venom Lip, the direct effect of an allergic reaction to the aforementioned product. I think if my lips had this type of reaction you might not see my face anymore.

My Utah State friends, now transferred to Texas.

Only a weekend, but it was a needed and well-rewarded escape!

Bon Qui Qui

2008-08-19T13:28:00.004-07:00

Occasionally I incorporate random phrases into my every day conversations---typically quotes from movies, The Office, or the hilarious happenings of my everyday life. This video goes out to my High School girlfriends who at lunch today heard me use the expression "Do not get loud with me." (Please read that with the slang dialect as it is somewhat difficult to provide a transliteration).

If "I will cut you" is not used in your daily conversation after watching this video, you may need to see it again. Enjoy!

2008-08-11T18:41:00.006-07:00

Things happen. People lose their heads. In this scenario it happened to be the groom, but in the Rhodes' home, you never know if you might be next. Not to imply that we live in a hazardous environment--I did just return from the land of Middle-East terrorism--but I will say that the stress of two weddings in two weeks creates a bit of chaos. Two weddings you say? I could handle that easily. Well, compound the insanity with a move.

While our home isn't exactly mobile, in about a month our family will be. For some time my parents have kept a small "For Sale by Owner" sign in our frontyard. (FSBO for those of you who prefer professional terminology). With the market being what it is/was, this didn't mean much. But 2 days before my return from Israel, I was informed that the house hadsold. As the new owners would like to be in as soon as the possible, it was expedient that we find another home. This picture was clearly my first choice, but it didn't seem to meet all the families' needs. For those interested, the Utah Rhodes' camp will be moving up the hill and down the street from where we currently live in Alpine. I will maintain my current residence in Ann Arbor, but rest assured that my transient lifestyle will continue and my location will change in approximately 8 months.

With the sale of our home has come frenzied house cleanings, inspections, and house shopping, all within the two week/two wedding time frame. Welcome to our lives. Lest you misinterpret this entry and it's suggestive photos, no one has lost any heads. The brides are in fact behaving admirably. Above all, my mother is nothing short of a miracle worker, preparing countless intricate details for each of her daughters "days" and maintaining a functional (mostly) household at the same time.

This is a representation of my mother's exceptional talents.
For those concerned about my well-being amidst the insanity, fear not. My tribute speech for Karlie's wedding is nearly prepared and I skillfully escaped tying bows around the 300 guest gift boxes by not so skillfully tying bows. Basically, life is good. 2 days to the first wedding and only another 16 to the second! Heads should be able to stay intact for such a time frame. Thankfully I'll be here to witness any loss of limbs or sanity, while enjoying the beauty of my sisters' nuptials.

2008-08-07T07:20:00.007-07:00

Approximately 33 hours, 3 flights, 2 layovers, and 5 movies later.....I'm home!!! It's hard to believe the summer flew by so quickly. Watching the movie Prince Caspian on flight number one seemed to pinpoint a bit how I felt. Leave reality for a while, have some amazing adventures in another world, and then--almost as if it had never happened--you're back in reality. Which is also fantastic, but completely removed. Doesn't get any more profound than Disney.

Needless to say, it was a fantastic month. Here's why:

My friends!!! I would say the primary benefit of my work is the number of fantastic people I get to meet. Singers can be a bit overwhelming, but for the most part I thoroughly enjoy spending my time with them.

The place!!! Israel is a truly fantastic country. The scenery is unbelievably diverse, as are the people. I went with Karlie to get her bridals done and was mind-boggled when the photographer told me he never wanted to visit. His first reason was the terrorism. Valid, but it has subsided considerably over the past few years and Tel Aviv, for being a big city, actually has one of the lowest crime rates in the world. His next concern was that it was a third-world country. The conversation had to end there. You can't argue with ignorance, but please note that Israel is NOT a third-world country. In case you were wondering. Anyway...these pictures are from Jerusalem, Nazareth, and the Dead Sea.

Last, but definitely not least, is Yotel. I had an 11-hour layover in London beginning at 9:30 pm. The prospect of sitting up in the airport all evening, following a 5 hour flight and looking at 13 hours more was not a happy one. Thankfully in Heathrow they have a small hotel (Yotel) with the smallest rooms imaginable, but television, movies, AND free internet. Basically, the greatest invention ever. Which brought my trip to a nice close. Long live the Yotel.

And now...I'm home!!! So, anyone who's in Utah---look me up and let's do lunch! Here's to a fantastic summer!

Living Nightmare

2008-07-31T01:19:00.008-07:00

I hate the umbrella. Typically it's some obscene shade of neon and being waved high in the air. Behind it is a hoard of people with cameras, sunburns and fanny packs. And yesterday, I became what I hate. One of those people mindlessly following the umbrella. And it wasn't just any umbrella. Check it out.

My irrational disdain of such tourism was thrown back in my face. With a Wal-mart umbrella. Talk about irony. BUT...I have to say that this tour was for the best. While in principle it was not my ideal, I saw far more in a day than I would have on my own and I learned some interesting facts. Here are a few that I enjoyed.

Tel Aviv has a population of only 260,000 but on any given day there are a million people in the city. Apparently everyone commutes in to work. Needless to say, there are some serious traffic issues.

60% of the world's diamonds are exported from Israel.

Apparently Nazareth in the time of the Savior had a population of only about 150. If this is true (I inherently doubt everything tour guides tell me), Mary's situation as an unwed, expectant mother, seems even more amazing. Only a real woman could put up with such small town gossip.

I'll save the other interesting facts for a later blog, but here are a few pictures from the day.

Hanging out at the Jordan River where baptism has become a strong tourist attraction. For a small exorbitant fee you can pay to be dipped in these waters.

The Mount of Transfiguration.

An olive press in the ruins of Capernaum.

Along with these sites, we made stops in Nazareth, Tiberias, and the Sea of Galilee. More pictures will be added in the future in case you're desperate to see them. I will say that while it's interesting putting places with names you've heard you're whole life, if you didn't already believe in the events that occurred there, seeing them commercialized will do nothing for you. This being said, I'm grateful I got to see them and look forward to my Dead Sea trip tomorrow!!!

When in Rome

2008-07-24T00:57:00.001-07:00

Once upon a time, I was in Italy....

Life in the Lobby

2008-07-21T09:47:00.002-07:00

I live in a hotel. The Basel Hotel to be exact. More accurately, I live in the lobby of the aforesaid hotel, since apparently I was assigned one of the 3 rooms in the hotel that doesn't get wireless internet. This being the case, I've gotten to know the hotel staff very well so I can put in quality time on Skype and checking my email. Despite the inconvenience of being a permanent fixture in the lobby, I am VERY grateful for my internet service and decided I should blog my appreciation. Not just about my internet, but my life in Tel Aviv. So here goes...

I live in a hotel. Which means I have maids. They make my bed, tidy my room, and bring me fresh towels every day. I haven't lived at home for a while, so this is quite novel and refreshing. I could really get used to it. Beyond the housekeeping, I get free breakfast every day. And it's amazing!!! Lots of salads (Israelis are really into salad for breakfast), veggies, fruits, eggs, pancakes, pastries, cheeses, cereal, yogurt, etc. I love food and even more importantly, I love having someone make it for me. So life is pretty sweet. I don't have a washing machine which is a bit problematic, but it could be worse.

My hotel is approximately a two minute walk from the Mediterranean Sea. There are plenty of sandy beaches, gorgeous sunsets, and refreshing salty breezes. I've always loved the ocean (especially when I can actually see the bottom) and it's reinvigorating to be able to go for a seaside stroll at the end of a long day at work.
Only negative would be the sand that manages to take over my existence.

I get to go to work every day doing what I love. Not everyone is so lucky in real life. I play the piano for a living and will for the rest of my life. Which is fantastic!!! On top of that, I'm currently working with some top people from the business and getting wonderful job experience that I know will help me in the coming years and job applications. Beyond resume building, I learn A LOT from all these people. Sometimes I learn what I don't like and what I don't want to be in the future, but that's also quite useful, so...I'm glad I came!

I meet amazing people everywhere I go and Tel Aviv is no exception. First, there's the White family. Ashley (Mott), B and there wonderful family have been so kind to me--picking me up for church, having me over for dinner--basically just being family away from hope. It's always wonderful being around such strong church members and they have made my stay in Israel much more enjoyable. There are other members of the Tel Aviv branch who are equally friendly and have been very interesting to meet. Just an interesting side note, but our church meetings are typically conducted in four different languages: English, Russian, Spanish and...whatever they speak in the Philippines. Quite the international experience.

Beyond church, there are wonderful singers and wonderful people in this program. It's always fascinates me to hear peoples stories. So many different people in this world and so much to learn from all of them!

Finally, being here in Tel Aviv has made me especially grateful for all the wonderful relationships I have at home. I have so many people I value in my life and being away from all of them just makes me appreciate them even more.

Basically I have a wonderful life. And it's pretty great in Tel Aviv. I'm tired and looking forward to some time in Utah, but I'll miss my little existence here in Israel. But mostly due to the fact that once I leave I'll have to start making my bed...

Shalom

2008-07-08T11:08:00.002-07:00

I have no desire to ever learn Hebrew. In case you were wondering. It just sounds difficult and I can't even read the letters, so it's out.

As you can probably deduce from the above statement, I made it to Israel. I got to Tel Aviv Sunday evening, started opera rehearsals on Monday and have been busy ever since. Coming from Italy the work load's been a bit of an adjustment. Something about having a pausa in the middle of the day that just makes everything feel more relaxed. And the Italian attitude in general. Here in Tel Aviv I've only had two long days at school, but it's felt like a week. Partly because I picked up some type of virus on my flight to London and have been suffering from a cold (in the hottest climate ever), but regardless it's been long.

That being said, I absolutely LOVE it here! Tel Aviv is breathtakingly beautiful. You can see the beach and the Mediterranean from my hotel window and it's lovely. And even better, the program is fantastic! My conductor loves me and is arranging for me to work with some Russian conductors on the opera I'll be doing in Michigan in the fall. The program coordinator gave a masterclass last night, and it was brilliant. And really well attended---about 400 people! I play for one tomorrow, and I'm really looking forward to it.

The people in the program are very friendly and lots of them are very talented as well. My roommate is from Mexico City and is one of the nicest girls ever! We won't be roommates for too long because her boyfriend will be coming to Tel Aviv next Wednesday, at which point she'll move out---but that just means my own room! The other pianists here are incredible, which is a bit intimidating but more inspirational than anything. Most of them are older and have a lot of great advice and helpful suggestions.

Basically, life is good. And I'm in Israel. è tutto.

Urbania: Places and Faces

2008-06-29T10:09:00.006-07:00

On Time

2008-06-27T01:32:00.002-07:00

It's hard to believe that I've already been in Europe for five weeks. Despite the slower pace of life in Italy, time still flies. Tonight we have our final concert in Urbania and tomorrow I'll begin my official week of vacation. The itinerary looks promising: 2 nights in Rome, 2 nights in Naples, 2 nights in Florence, and a final night in Bologna. Then I catch a flight for London, spend an evening there and then fly to Tel Aviv.

It's the oddest feeling, but I often get the sensation that I live in multiple worlds. Per esempio, I have this life in Italy at the moment. I go to school, I have rehearsals, I go grocery shopping, I eat gelato--basically I've settled into an Italian routine. I have fantastic friends, a great roommate, etc. but tomorrow this world will vanish. The people I've met will all go their separate ways and I'll then have to start a new life in Israel, where I'll stay just long enough to create a world and then leave.

All the above makes for an interesting lifestyle and it just happens to be one that I love. There are negative aspects, especially the good-byes and the transiency, but I wouldn't trade it for the world. I get to meet fantastic people from random places around the world, study cultures and languages---all the time doing what I love and making music. And best of all, at the end I get to go home. To a semi-divided world in Utah/Michigan. Pretty sweet setup.

But the end of an existence is always a bit sad, hence my reflections of the day. Urbania has been wonderful and I love the Italian people and culture more than ever. (I've decided to retire in Italy). And I'm really looking forward to Tel Aviv and my rough sojourn in a hotel with free wireless. So...here's to the end of an existence and the beginning of another!

France, Italy...guesses for next year?

2008-06-07T03:35:00.010-07:00

Birthdays are fantastic. I mean nothing can beat that amazing feeling of aging overnight. Here's how June 5, 2008 went down:

I'm not normally much of a cereal fan, but this specific type, "Vitalis," especially the frutti di bosco flavor, is brilliant. I'm considering eating the cost of shipping multiple boxes home. It was the perfect way to start the greatest day of the calendar year.

I went to school to continue my commitment to education, occasionally perceived as avoidance of the real world, and the Scuola had gotten me a beautiful rose. Wanyi, a fellow pianist from Michigan, was my sidekick for the day and, more realistically, my entire time in Italy.

During our 30 minute class "pausa," we hit the Thursday morning market. Picked up some fresh fruit, porchetta panini, and calamari, but mostly just enjoyed the fact that it was a beautiful day. (It's tended to be a bit rainy thus far in my Italian experience.)

Urbania is small but beautiful and everywhere you look there's a hill that looks picture perfect. This is the view down the street from my apartment.

A little gelato appetizer---they don't eat dinner here until 8:30 or 9, so I swear it's necessary!

Went to dinner at a small hotel and it was fantastic! It was the 4 pianists, the director of the program, and one of the faculty coaches.

This was the antipasti. Delicious!

The dinner party.

It also happened to be Jennifer's birthday---another one of the pianists, so we went in on a cake that was pretty freakin' brilliant. Unfortunately we didn't get home from dinner until just after 11:30, so the actually eating of it was postponed until Friday. It was worth the wait and topped off with some amazing gelato.

I had planned several wishes over the past year, so even though I was candle-less I found a way to make do.

Overall, it was a lovely day. The most interesting bit to me, however, was in pondering last year's birthday in France with a mixture of nationalities in comparison to this one in Italy AND my 22nd in Utah. It's really just interesting to sit back and watch where life takes you. And wonder where I'll be next year on June 5th!

Should I take a Home Lunch?

2008-06-04T11:19:00.010-07:00

Remember how exciting your very first day of school was? My Grandpa would give me rides to Shelley Elementary in the basket of his bicycle while my mom was teaching school and I loved it. Quality time with Grandpa AND Kindergarten rocked. Remember recess? Naptime? Storytime? Who wouldn't want to go to school?

And yet, somehow along the road we reach this stage.

Hopefully with a different outfit, but you get the picture.

Let's just say that it's been a while since I looked forward to my first day of school. BUT...this week I had my first day of Italian class and I was SO excited! I got to Italy last Wednesday evening quite late---mostly due to the fact that I'm in the middle of nowhere. In Italy. Seriously, it took about 5 hours to drive here from Rome. The nearest train connection is 1.5 hours away by bus. It's gorgeous and 100% authentic Italy, but it's still isolated which can occasionally be equivocated with boredom. Anyway, by the time Tuesday rolled around and Italian classes started I was so excited to go to school that I could hardly keep from skipping. (I refrained.) Not only did I get to find out which level I had tested into, but I would also become immediately fluent in a day! Realistically my expectations weren't THAT high, but I was excited. And I did make the top class, in case you had doubts. :)

Point of this rambling being...it was nice. It took me back to those days when life started with the school year. It still does, but somehow it's become a little more overwhelming and less exciting. But my first two days at Scuola Italia have been nothing but enjoyable and it's quite refreshing. Maybe it's the school, or maybe it's it's just that I'm in Italy. Either way...va bene!

Postcard from Wien

2008-05-31T02:11:00.006-07:00

Since an actual postcard actually takes an enormous amount of effort, here's my solution...

The Games We/I Play

2008-05-26T12:31:00.005-07:00

I have a little game I like to play in Vienna. It's called "How long can I go speaking only German and have people think I actually understand and speak the language?"

Still working on that title.

And the game, since normally it only lasts about two sentences.

Tonight I made a significant amount of progress, however. I went into one restaurant where I asked for a place and was told they didn't have one and I should go to the same restaurant around the corner. Realistically, I only understood the general gist of that, but it was all in German and I still figured it out, so...5 points for me.

No one else gets any points in my games.

I went to restaurant number 2, was escorted toward the back of building and given my choice of going to the left tables or the right. I chose the left in German. I managed to order from a German menu (not too difficult since I knew my last Viennese meal needed to be Schnitzel). Still...I awarded myself 10 more points.

I felt that things were going very well, especially when they brought me a schnitzel that was twice the size of head. A difficult feat, you might say, considering how happily I award myself points. Nevertheless, it was true. I couldn't see the plate beyond the schnitz. I was gnawing happily away when the waiter returned. He threw off a quick phrase and smiled at me. My blood turned cold and I felt points slipping from my grasp as I just stared up at him and smiled blankly. He continued to stand there smiling politely, and I panicked. Too much eye contact, and still no German coming from my mouth. His phrase still hadn't registered in my brain. Occasionally the quick ones just take a moment before I realize what's been said. STILL NOTHING! There we were, for what felt like an eternity of misunderstanding. What was I to do?! Abandon ship? Quit the game when I was so far ahead? (Who knows of what or whom.) It could not be! There was only one solution...I smiled some more, nodded, and buried my face in the schnitzel.

I knew it was over. I'd been called out. But when he returned to see if I had finished, he spouted off another German phrase and I QUIT! I took off running. Okay, not really. But I did tell him that I spoke only a little German and hadn't understood. So he replied in English, saying that it was not a problem.

But it was. When he brought the check, I found that dinner cost me not only 18 Euro, but also 15 points.

Wien

2008-05-23T07:17:00.003-07:00

I have a confession. Until just a couple days ago, I never realized that "Wienerschnitzel" was called as such do to it's derivation in "Wien." Or Vienna as we folk call it back home. So, yes, I'm ignorant. I'm hopeful that until now, you were as well, only as a testament that I'm not alone in the world.

Since I've visited several cathedrals in the past 48 hrs (if even that) I feel inclined to make one other confession. While I enjoy travelling, I don't enjoy sight-seeing. I hate feeling guilty for not wanting to be on my feet all day. I feel obligated to spend every second seeing things that blur into indistinction after cramming as many sights in as possible. So I don't do it. I'm a weak sight-seer.

My roommate on the other hand is not. I actually have two at the moment in my surprisingly fabulous hostel. One is a 20-year old med student from Canada (first language French) and the other is from Germany, here to visit for the weekend. The Canadian, Jennifer, has her guidebook and is on a mission which I totally respect. Carola, on the other hand, is the one I spent today with. We grabbed breakfast at the hostel, went to the Morgenarbeit mit Musik (show horse excersing) and then toured the Hofberg palace, focusing on the Sisi museum and the silver collection. Then we stopped for lunch which consisted of Viennese "Sachertorte" and a Diet Coke. It was lovely. I choose to eat like that. Now I'm home for a rest before braving at night at the Staatsoper. Totally psyched.

It's the home for a rest part that I thoroughly enjoy. I think I don't mind sight seeing if I don't feel constrained and obligated. So maybe I'm a bit too strong-willed. Regardless, Wien is fantastic. My German is rapidly improving with Carola's help and I'm slowly overcoming my fear of speaking Deutsch in public. Slowly. I'm running out of patience with the whole "pay-by-the-minute" internet thing, however, and as a result am looking forward to my apartment with free wireless in Italy.

And so I've confessed, I've contemplated, I've narrated, and now I bid you "Auf Wiedersehen." Which has nothing to do with any of the above.

***Pictures forthcoming: when I'm not on a public computer.***

Scientific Calculations

2008-05-21T03:29:00.006-07:00

People are always throwing around the fact that 60% of your body is water. Except sometimes the fact is 75%, sometimes 90%, etc. Regardless, I am convinced that after an extended flight, the body's composition changes to approximately 104.7% water--based on a few quick calculations. And the conviction that if I'm offered another beverage in the next 24 hours (which is 100% possible as I have yet another flight from LHR-VIE), I will be sorely tempted to accept and then throw it right back at the flight attendant. Or whatever politically correct thing steward/stewardesses are now called.

Irrational? Perhaps. Just politely decline the beverage? No can do. My ability to accept or decline the drink is governed by a higher power, a universal law which tells me that I paid for the flight, including the drink, and I better drink it. On another level my senses tell me that most likely my body is getting dehydrated and I really should take it, for my own health. As if that weren't enough, I know that "X" (stewardess, flight attendant, waitress, or whatever) does not come by my row in the economy class to offer me beverages every ten minutes, in which case I better seize the opportunity to get a drink while I can.

Result: Far more trips to the airplane lavoratory (of which I have an irrational fear of being sucked out) and the feeling that, as aforementioned, I am now composed of 104.7% water. Not a fan.

Anyways...made it safely from SLC to NYC. Barely survived my six-hour layover at JFK, carefully avoiding the health hazards which were scurrying about in the lounge where I purchased and ate my dinner. This was quite the interesting experience. It was amazing to me how unaffected people were by the birds landing at the table beside them while they were eating. Perhaps in a park that's more than natural, but we were INDOORS! I just missed a picture of a bird taking down a french fry. At the table next to me. I joined with the norm and decided that I could handle the birds. But then I looked down and knew I needed to leave.

It's a bit interesting to consider, though, how easily humans adapt to their surroundings. You can see how things once viewed as disgusting: cannibalism, for example, or abject poverty and living amongst animals could become normal. As proven throughout history, mankind can survive in even the most dreadful circumstances. And I survived JFK.

A skip across the pond and now I'm hanging in the London airport, where I can not afford anything. Primarily because I'm surrounded by names such as Gucci, Dior, and Prada---the three stores are literally right in a row to my right---but also because the measly US dollar accomplished nothing when compared to the pound. End of story. I do appreciate London thoroughly, however. There's something about traveling abroad and still arriving in a country where you understand the language that is extremely comforting. But hey, who wants comfort? Let's go to Austria.

The Fist of Fate

2008-05-18T14:00:00.005-07:00

Fisher missed his second free throw. And I knew it was destiny---we would win. After an amazing rally in the last 2 minutes and a series of impossible 3-point shots, fate had handed us a gift. Fisher was 100% from the free throw line up to that point. One last three-pointer and we'd head into overtime, where our momentum would have given us the win.

2 shots later, the game was over. And so was our season. 2 days later, I am finally able to express the sense of disillusionment and loss I have felt. Our miracle resurgence was truly brilliant, but in the long run it couldn't compensate for a slow opening. And it will take some time to recover, but I do believe healing will come.

So now for a bit of self-evaluation. I've always enjoyed sports, but something this year of my life has turned me into a minor fanatic. I actually watched portions of the NFL draft to follow my Michigan boys. I'm planning my fall recital around Michigan football. I haven't missed watching a Jazz game since school ended. I know stats, heights, birthdays and hometowns of most of their players.

WHY?! From where is this newfound passion derived? And as Derek Zoolander would be inclined to say, "Who am I?"

A bit extreme, I realize. But it would be interesting to pinpoint the psychological cause of my sports obsession. If you can provide an analysis (free of charge), please feel free. Otherwise I'll continue to ponder the mysteries of my universe.

On an almost completely unrelated note, for those of you interested in orchestrating my love life, please use the following picture as a guide. Please especially note the height. While any set-ups comparable to this are welcome, the real thing would be ideal.

Life Happens

2008-05-04T18:24:00.006-07:00

After a brief resurgence in my blogging, I was once again silenced by the cosmos. My desire for self-expression through online verbalization became secondary to the insanity of schooling. In a nutshell, life happened. And it was a whirlwind.

Funnily enough, life continues to happen and here's where I am now...

UTAH!!! I surprised my family and came home to spend some quality time before...

VIENNA!!! Where I'll be staying for a week while auditioning for teachers at the Vienna Conservatory before...

URBANIA!!! Italy---where I'll be playing for an opera program for a month and studying Italian for 3 and 1/2 hours a day! Following which I have a week off to play in Italy and then catch a plane for...

TEL AVIV, ISRAEL!!! Here I'll be playing an opera for the International Vocal Arts Institute (IVAI) for a month, while avoiding all dangerous personages.

And so the whirlwind continues. Just when you think you've reached the calm of the storm, you start looking ahead at what must be done. And you realize that the storm is called LIFE, it never pauses, and you just need to hang on for the ride.
Life happens.

Luck o' the Irish

2008-02-25T11:21:00.006-08:00

Today I'm stressed. And it's because of these three men. They call themselves the Celtic Tenors and starting on Wednesday they will be my employers. Only for 12 days, but still...

I got an email from Daryl Simpson (on the left) on February 8th, informing me that the C.T. were in need of a pianist for a portion of their U.S. tour--apparently their normal M.D. had to be out of town for that stretch--and asking if I was interested in the job. Fiona Murphy, an Irish mezzo-soprano I worked with in Houston, recommended me to Daryl whom she went to school with. I WAS interested but needed to know more. Especially since the C.T. do a mix of classical, Irish, pop and sacred music and pop and Irish are FAR from being my specialty. By that evening I'd gotten an offer and by Sunday I accepted. Who can resist an Irish accent?

So...I leave on tour Wednesday. I miss a week of school---stressful!---and the week I get back just happens to be one of the craziest of the semester. And it turns out that some of the C.T. music is illegible and based on my ability to improv--not one of my strengths. I'm a bit overwhelmed. So what better thing to do than blog about it?

Obituary

2008-02-21T21:34:00.004-08:00

"Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave
Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;
Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave.
I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned."

~Edna St. Vincent Millay

On the eve of Sunday, February 17th of the year 2008, a true hero was lost. She went quietly--she who was beautiful and brave, though perhaps not witty and intelligent. And maybe not actually beautiful. But she was kind, loyal, and sometimes trustworthy. Now she is gone. And I do not approve. And I am not resigned. Bertha Lucinda Cirrus was my lifeline.

Bertha is survived by me, her somewhat abusive friend and owner, who drove her mercilessly across the country. From Utah to Colorado, Colorado to Utah, Utah to Houston, Houston to Michigan, and finally from Ann Arbor to Cincinnati and partially back. The demands placed upon Ms. Cirrus were many, and she rose to them occasionally. Above is the last surviving photo we have as a couple--taken just after Bertha had collapsed on the roadside, requiring not 1, but 4 brand new tires.

B.L.C. (Almost B.L.T.---something which I truly love) decided she could endure this life's travail no longer as she trudged north on I-75. We had driven from Ann Arbor to Cincinnati that morning. The roads were icy and the sky gray, nothing too out of the ordinary for a Michigan winter. Conditions cleared somewhat as we neared our destination, but after I completed my audition for Opera North--a summer opera company in New Hampshire--we took to the highway again, only to find conditions were not as favorable. We passed through a rainstorm which washed the dust of this earth from Bertha, leaving her spirit to fly free to the heavens and me to walk down the side of I-75. The autopsy indicated a water pump which had "gone out," causing the timing belt to shred, which in turn encouraged the pistons to misfire, burning out the engine through this series of events.

I felt only a jolt and loss of acceleration. And then I was stranded. For a long time. In Wakapeneta, OH. My roommate Maggie and my friend Christine had to drive nearly two hours to rescue me. My friend Amita and I in the meantime got to know the folks at the Comfort Zone diner, the local highway patrol, and a very nice tow-man extremely well.

And while Bertha gave her life in my service, I will conclude that I'm not overly sorry to see her go. She was a gas guzzler. A greed fiend and an unreliable, false servant. Better to be free of her clutches than wonder when she would fail me.

But I loved her just the same. So...adieu. Addio. Auf Wiedersehen. Later.

From the Heart

2008-02-14T21:19:00.004-08:00

Happy Valentine's Day! If I can still say that at 12:20 am. I haven't blogged for some time now, but I feel that this holiday has warranted the occasion. Primarily because it's led me to ponder. And what better way to ponder than in a written blog that can be accessed by anyone online?

It's amazing how we can move through our lives blissfully unaware of how far the sphere of our universe extends. Who's noticing you? Who's watching? Who remembers the remark you tossed off so casually to them? At the root of all the rhetorical questions: how aware are we of those beyond ourselves?

I got a valentine today. Plus three. Which makes four valentines total if my calculations are correct. My roommate Jess gave me a Sponge Bob (not sure if that's one or two words)gummy hamburger goodness, Jason Jones gave me a chocolate fish---yes, a fish---Brian gave me a heartfelt Power Ranger card and then someone gave me a surprise.

I came home from school and there was a card waiting on the porch with my name printed across the envelope. And inside was an unsigned valentine from a "secret admirer." Novel and exciting, right? Anonymity holds a certain magic for the human psyche. Which holds true in my Valentine's Day scenario. But this card was so much more than novel. It was beautiful and it was sincere--by far the best Valentine I've ever received.

The message was straightforward. This person had formed initial judgments about me which he felt were incorrect and warranted apology. He then proceeded to write how his opinion of me had changed over time and concluded with an expression of gratitude for our friendship and the influence I've had on him. My words don't do it justice, but the sincerity of my beautifully scripted valentine made an impression on me. As a result, I've been thinking. So here are some thoughts:

Few things have meant as much to me recently as the sincerity which this writer was able to achieve through anonymity. If such sincerity seems rare, then what do our lives consist of in actuality? Are we living life only on a surface-level and never actually letting our true feelings permeate our actions and being? Not to suggest that everything in this world needs be deep and life-altering. But aren't their times when things should be said? Things that mean something? Are we afraid of honesty? Of the risk we run when we show a true piece of ourselves?

Beyond that I've been thinking about how unaware I am of the people in my life. I know they're present. I love having them there. I love talking to them. But how much to I invest in them? Do I treat everyone with the value and worth they warrant? Do I really care? The rhetorical questions may be getting a bit old at this point, but I'm inclined to think that they might be warranted to shake me from my sphere of oblivion. I think I'm too quick to listen lightly. I think I don't ask enough questions. I think I don't really know the people whom I interact with on a daily basis. I think I need to be more aware. I think I need to see something somewhere beyond myself.

And finally comes the issue of judgment. My admirer, if that's the appropriate term, initially thought me vain and self-centered. And I'm sure those are true to some degree, as I have owned up to in the previous paragraph. But I would hope that fundamentally, those characteristics are at least somewhat inaccurate or compose a small percentage of my personality. That being said, how many people have I typeset into a box based on initial impressions? To some extent, judgment is necessary and appropriate. But am I open-minded enough to let someone prove me wrong? Is there finality in first impressions or do I take them lightly enough that they can easily be forgotten if incorrect?

The questions are rhetorical. The thoughts posed will continue floating around in my mind. I do know, however, that someone made my day. Sincerity and honesty made Valentine's Day '08 one that I'll never forget. And I haven't even begun to mention the rockstar "Where's the Love?" party we had at 595 Landings....

Horoscope

2007-08-20T23:59:00.001-07:00

My horoscope said I should blog today. And I must do as my horoscope instructs, so...

Tonight I gave an FHE lesson on Bonnie D. Parkin's talk from LDS General Conference called "Gratitude: A Path to Happiness" Check it out because it really is a wonderful message. In my effort to live my lesson, here are some things I am currently grateful for.

*The Office: "Would I rather be feared or loved? Um... Easy, both. I want people to be afraid of how much they love me." ~Michael Scott.
Need I say more?

*LaSawndruh: Have you ever wondered if there was more to life, other than being really, really, ridiculously good looking? There's not. Except for being perched atop lengthy limbs. Bless Sondra and her 6'1" athletic stance.

*Media Mail: Today I sent 6 boxes through USPS and since they were all books, cd's and dvd's I got media mail pricing. I sent approximately 125 pounds of books from Houston, TX to Ann Arbor, MI for just over $50. Nothing short of miraculous in my book.

*Diet Coke: Would life be the same without it?

*Hurricane prevention awareness: I'm glad Hurricane Dean decided to head South. But I'm also grateful for the Hurricane Preparedness 101 I got over the weekend.

*Maps: Kind of a weird obsession, but I really can't wait until I have a study with a massive world map on the wall. For now, the fact that I can use them to plan a driving route suffices.

*MOM: Could I make a gratitude list without including my mother? Here's to the woman who gave me life and is still my lifeline.

*Poetry: Brushed up on some Shakespeare sonnets. Love literature.

*Humidity: It's definitely got it's negative aspects, but for the most part I prefer it to the arid desert.

*Deodorant: The heat/humidity protector.

*Wit: Let's me honest, some people don't have or get it.

And, finally, in tribute to the 2004 classic that I watched this evening, Napoleon Dynamite: GOSH!

Here's until the next horoscope tells me to blog...

I'm Just Sayin'...

2007-07-12T08:38:00.000-07:00

So, while I typically try and keep this blog light and entertaining, I'm going to go ahead and vent to the masses for a moment.

We had dress rehearsal for our final concert that's tomorrow in Lucca. The gala, if you will. And at this dress rehearsal I played 4 pieces for the first time with the singers. That would be fine if they were standard arias or lieder, but fear not. They weren't. Needless to say, it wasn't the best "dress rehearsal" and we're having another tomorrow morning. Who wouldn't want to do several dress rehearsals of a concert? I mean, really? I'm just sayin' that I think this could have been organized a little better. Maybe add some rehearsals with the singers to my schedule? Or start the music more than a week before the concert?

So...really, it's not such a big deal. Last week's concert experience went about the same except it was a thousand times more intense. And it came off fine. As will tomorrow's. Actually it will be more than fine, it will be exceptional. It's all in the attitude, right?

And that's all. Just a little bit of venting to diversify my blog. :)

2007-07-11T14:35:00.000-07:00

This is me at a piano. Not an unusual sight. But this just happens to be the same piano on which Madame Butterfly was composed. Puccini anyone? Basically, if you're not a music nerd this means absolutely nothing. But it's going to be in a frame on my wall when I get home. Next to the massive Madame Butterfly poster I bought and Puccini's picture. Call it a shrine if you will.

This picture was taken last Friday night in Celle de Puccini, the summer residence of the Puccini family. I Solisti, the group of singers I play for gave an evening concert out in the gardens and it was absolutely beautiful. And really just one of those "how cool is my life" moments. How many people get to give a concert, singing/playing Puccini arias in the exact place where many of them were written?

As if things couldn't be any better, the concert was followed by an amazing home-cooked Italian meal that took 3 hours to eat!!! Loved it! We had two rounds of appetizers, then two different pasta courses followed by a main course of roast and potatoes and topped off with some amazing sweets---a lemon tart type of dessert and another that was layers of chocolate mousse in a tart. Big fan. Not only was the food an amazing cultural experience, but I also happened to sit at the end of a table with two of the native Italian speakers and ended up speaking Italian for most of the 3 hours! If you can think of a better way to spend an evening in Italy, let me know, because this seemed pretty much ideal---the complete cultural package!

On Nutella

2007-07-05T04:42:00.000-07:00

I'm going to go ahead and say that Nutella should be the 6th of the 5 food groups. I'm pretty sure it can hold its own against the others. What are grains, vegetables, or meat when considered next to the sweetness of such an amazing spread? The importance of proteins pales in comparison to the necessity of Nutella. I could envision a whole day in which Nutella played a significant role in each meal. Good thing I have a bike...

By Request: Cinque Terre

2007-07-03T15:14:00.000-07:00

This post is officially dedicated to those of you who noticed the recent "pausa." Here are some more of my profound writings. :)

Based on several of my rose-tinted blogs, you might think that my life in Europe is perfect. And 99.9% of the time, it is. Saturday was an ideal illustration of absolute perfection! I woke up early so that I could catch an 8:30 bus to Cinque Terre, which consists of 5 small towns along the Ligurian Sea that are connected by a hiking trail. A group of my friends from the Lucca program decided to take on the 5-hour hike between the cities, and it was one of the best things I've done in Italy!

The first stretch from Monterrosso to Vernazza and the second, from Vernazza to Corniglia, were by far the most difficult. The weather was gorgeous--around 85 degrees with a nice ocean breeze and every other step there was another "postcard-perfect" view . We took some downtime in Vernazza and my friend Christy and I took a dip in the ocean as a refresher for the next hike. Needless to say, it was fantastic. We were in a small, cove-like area that opens up to the city and it officially qualified as a surreal moment.

We stopped for lunch in Corniglia and I treated myself to a Caprese focaccia, a little ravioli, and OF COURSE, gelato. Excellent all the way around. I have absolutely no complaints about my eating experiences in Italy. Not that I typically have complaints against eating, but...

One of the highlights of the hike for me was our second ocean swim. Just before we reached the 4th town, Manarola, we stopped to cool off in the ocean. To get down to the rocks---no beach, just free-stylin' it like the natives---you had to climb down a long set of stairs that ended with a rope that helped you get down to the rocks. And by rocks I mean massive boulders. We spent about an hour just soaking in the sun and swimming in the Ligurian Sea. I don't often find that I'm a "carefree" individual, but that makes carefree moments all the more worthwhile. Our rock/beach stop, and actually most of our Cinque Terre experience, I had not a care in the world.

Insomma, Cinque Terre era bellissimo. Good company, great food, fantastic scenery, perfect weather, and hiking! And then add the fact that they're all in Italy. Could there be a better combination?

LINK TO CINQUE TERRE PICS:

Cinque Terre Weekend

Sunday

2007-06-24T14:32:00.000-07:00

Occasionally in life we happen across the surreal. I currently seem to encounter it every day. Today it came in the form of San Leopoli, a small comune in the Chianti region of Tuscany. Picture rows of olive trees and breathtaking vineyards scattered across the rolling Tuscan hills that are dotted with villas. That's where I spent my afternoon. Like I said, surreal.

I was the designated page turner for a faculty concert, featuring a trio playing Mozart and Dvorak. We caught a bus there that took me back to the days of high school choir tour. Only difference was the bus was about 1/3 the size and the company was all significantly older. Our driver was really nice, but definitely a little crazy in the way he took on the winding Italian roads. I found myself extremely relieved when we took an hour and a half break in the small town of Greve. Who wants to be sick in a bus filled with faculty? I saw my career vanishing with my mounting carsickness. All was well, however. Grabbed a diet coke, a bench, and some fresh air and felt fine by the time we started the second, and much shorter, leg of our journey.

When we reached our magical destination in the heart of Tuscany, I felt like I had found myself. Odd, I know, but you know how you occasionally meet people who you just click with? You skip the whole "making friends" process because somehow you just already are? It's like there's a piece of you in them and vice versa. I decided that happens with places too. After the concert we went for an evening stroll through the garden of the comune: the scent of fresh rosemary and lavender scented the postcard perfect view. Everything was still and serene, and gazing out at the landscape, it was like I'd found one of those soul friends. It's difficult to explain. But I discovered a place where I could just exist as me. No defenses, no mental barriers---I could just breathe, relax and know that I was safe while defenseless. It's like going home. Or really trusting someone. Just feeling whole. It happens more often than I used to think; it's just a matter of awareness. But it happened in Chianti.

il fine settimana

2007-06-24T00:46:00.000-07:00

The concept of a "week-end" is beautifully universal. This week Friday came as it always does and I was truly grateful. It was as if once the faculty determined I was a functioning pianist, they decided to schedule me for as much as they possibly could. No complaints because this would have to fall into the "good experience" category, but my day's are frequently more intense than one would hope for while sojourning in Italy. HENCE, my excitement for the weekend.

This weekend I decided to stay in Lucca and "take it easy"---a favorite expression of Lorenzo Malfatti whom I work with. Friday night I met up with friends for dinner and we made a nice, un-Itlian, chicken alfredo. Alfredo is definitely an American invention, but it's one I enjoy. It was one of those wonderful summer evenings when the temperature's beautiful, you've had a fantastic meal, and then you get to just sit and talk with friends. Or in this case, several people that I didn't know who I'm now friends with. :) A refreshing change from the standard bar pilgrimage.

Saturday I played the part of tourist with gusto. My new roommate, Kelly, and I started of the day with a fantastic brunch of fresh cantaloupe and prosciutto sandwiches and then grabbed a Frommer's guidebook and went to town. Literally. Lucca is an incredibly old city that is basically a walled fortress. "La mura" that currently stands was the built from 1544-1654, and it was the 4th set erected. The town is filled with ancient churches, quaint markets, and gorgeous scenery. We visited several of the churches, grabbed some gelato, and wandered through the shopping centers. And it was absolutely wonderful. One of those times when you remember you're in Italy and it takes your breath away.

I found a clothing store that needs English-speaking help and if they're willing to hire me under the table, I think I'll just stay here. There's so many things about life in Lucca that I love. I line-dried my laundry yesterday. I bicycle everywhere. While I'm busy, stress is something that doesn't really exist in the Italian culture. Olive oil is inexpensive and amazing! Eating in general is a joy, but considerably healthier. In a nutshell, I love living here. Going home will be a serious culture shock. It makes me homesick for Europe just thinking about it. So I won't.

20.06.07: A day in Lucca, Italy

2007-06-20T11:21:00.000-07:00

6:45
Woke up. Without any help from my alarm clock. I'm getting back into a relatively early morning routine which I love! It also helps that by 11 pm I'm so exhausted that going to bed is the only thing that sounds fun. When did I get so old?!

7:00
Beat the boys to the shower. Since our day's don't officially start until 9, they're not up until about 8. After writing that, I realized that most of you don't know my housing situation. I live with an Italian family which consists of Cesare, and his son Giacomo who is 26. There are also 2 boys from the music festival who live in this same house. Yesterday I got a roommate so I finally have some female company! Definitely felt a little foreign living with 4 guys! Anyways, back to important matters: I bought a new shampoo in town yesterday and it got my day off to an amazing start!

8:00
Started the day off with a little Italian study. I have GOT to learn some more verb conjugations! Pretty much I walk around using lots of infinitives or just sticking an "o" on the end of French verbs.
Ate some amazing Italian granola called "Vitalis." Pretty much makes my life every time I eat it. One of those simple pleasures.
Biked into town for Italian. I'm becoming a big fan of my bicycle. Never mind that it's 100 years old, is completely rusted over, and feels like it could fall apart at any moment. We spend a LOT of time together during the day and I feel like she really understands me.

9:00
Italian class. This was a little intense today. The teacher told us an hour into class that we were finished for the day and that he was leaving. Apparently we weren't reacting enough to what he was saying. It's a little rough trying to just spit things out in Italian though! Even after he said we were through and asked us if that was ok, no one said anything, so I had to once again pretend like I speak Italian and told him that we wanted to learn, please continue, etc. I can understand his frustration, but I'm not sure that he understands ours all the time. It ended up being a great class, nonetheless.

11:00
Had a coaching with Donna Brunsma, one of the coaches that directs the program I play for (called Solisti). I have to play a recital next Tuesday and the program has 16 arias and a few songs that they want to make sure are up to par. The coaching was fine, but the singer didn't show. LAME!

11:30
Group class with Lorenzo Malfatti. Lorenzo is a wonderful Italian who's lived in America for some time but knows everything about Italian music. He did a Fulbright study with Aaron Copland. Despite his useful information, the man is about 85--no exaggeration--and I frequently get frustrated because he doesn't always seem to be quite on top of things. Which would be fine in any other type of setting. But it's frustrating trying to put together a recital program when he's not up to organizing it until a few days before.

12:30
Played a voice lesson and got PAID! Yeah for making money! Especially when it's in euros.

13:30
Learned music and sweat approximately 5 gallons. It's been SO hot the past couple of days. And it's really humid. Which wouldn't matter if air-conditioning were more popular. Oh well!

15:00
Played for coachings with Lorenzo and Donna. One excellent thing about the program thus far is that all of the faculty really like me, which I have a feeling will come in handy at some point down the road. I especially like working with a coach from the Florence Conservatory, Rolando Russo. He's fantastic! Donna's also great. She worked at the Florence Opera for 10 years, and the Chicago Lyric for 21.

20:30
HOME!!! Checked the emails, made some pasta (Love the Italian staples!), chatted online, searched for apartments in Michigan, and updated my blog. Chatted a bit with Cesare to work on my Italian. He speaks no English, which definitely makes for good practice!

And that was my day! For all of you who were wondering what my life is like in Lucca, that gives you a snapshot. And some background for future blogging!

22:35-NIGHT!!!

Where did you spend your weekend???

2007-06-17T12:21:00.001-07:00

"You may have the universe if I may have Italy."

~Giuseppe Verdi

As I watched the sunset over the Arno on Saturday night, the universe and Italy were both mine. It was one of those magical moments when time freezes, the noise of the crowd dims, and the world is yours. The sunset only lasted for 30 minutes, but my entire weekend in Florence was rose-colored.

Certain moments capture this weekend best:

Karlie and Lauren (her friend from Annecy) had a pizza waiting for me when I got into the Florence train station. As if seeing my sister couldn't get any better!

Some of you who know about the audible knot that I've had for 5 years in my right shoulder. Karlie gave it her magic massage treatment, which was much needed after my first week in Lucca. While that might seem like a random comment, it was something that altered my spirits considerably and set the weekend off wonderfully. That warrants mentioning.

In 3 days I sampled around 15 flavors of gelato. I did NOT eat all of that myself, but sharing flavors between 3 of us made for a wonderful weekend of Italia's finest! And let's be honest, gelato is heaven on earth.

While we're on food, our hotel had a free breakfast buffet. Nothing like Geneva's, but it was a definite plus. I'm a big breakfast fan.

If there is such a thing as a perfectly-timed and executed day, that would be our Saturday. It really was phenomenal how everything aligned in our favor. We started off the morning at the Galleria degli Uffizi, the oldest art gallery in the world. We only waited in line for about an hour before we got in, which is a feat considering our hotel owner guaranteed us it would be at least a four-hour wait. Then we went to see Il Duomo, climbed to the top of the tower for an aerial view of Florence, and finished off the afternoon with panini and people-watching in the Piazza della Signoria. Did some shopping, spent some time on the Ponte Vecchio (the oldest bridge in Florence and one of the few that survived the bombings in WWII), sunbathed at the Palazzo Pizzi, and wrapped things up with an amazing dinner at Fuori Porta. I had spaghetti with tuna, tomatoes and olives in it and it was one of the best things I've ever tasted. GO ITALY!!! We ended the night overlooking Florence from the Piazzale Michelangelo, watched the sunset, caught a bus back to the hotel and had an amazing night's sleep. AND EVERYTHING WENT SMOOTHLY! Like I said, it was a perfectly-timed day. And considering the number of times traveling that things aren't...

We hiked 414 steps to the top of the Duomo. Not that bad. But then we walked all day, climbed a steep hill to the Fuori Porta, and then a seriously steep set of stairs to the Piazzale Michelangelo. But what was waiting at the top of those stairs? A gelato stand!!! We'd joked about it during the climb, but only in fairy-tale Italy was it actually waiting there at the top!

This morning we waited in line for the Galleria dell'Accademia extra-long to compensate for our perfect Saturday. But the wait was entertaining and well worth it. A portion of the Accademia is a museum of musical instruments and since Karlie and I are nerds...it was cool!

The crowning moment of the day, though, and possibly all of Florence was seeing Michelangelo's David. You see pictures of the David your whole life. It's one of Michelangelo's legendary masterpieces. But until you stand before it, you really have no comprehension of it's beauty and majesty. I was awestruck. Looking at the intricate detailing and contemplating Michelangelo's mastery, the only emotion that can somewhat describe what I felt was reverence. I've always enjoyed and appreciated art, but there are few things that I would consider as inspiring and as moving as the Statue of David.

We had amazing sandwiches, shopped around this afternoon: I bought Karlie the best perfume I have ever smelled in my life, Calvin Klein "In2U." Go smell it sometime. Or find my sister. Anyways, HAPPY BIRTHDAY KARLIE!!!

And finally, we said good-bye at the train station. And Karlie had tears in her eyes. There's something about sisters. It's a relationship unlike any other and I wouldn't trade it for the world. And when you take that relationship and stick it in Florence...it's just that much better!

Italia

2007-06-12T13:56:00.000-07:00

You are reading the blog of the new and improved Stephanie Rhodes. Today marked the commencement of my new exercise/diet regiment. I realize that Tuesday is a random day to start something like this, but since I arrived in Italy on a Monday and didn't get situated until evening rolled around, today just made sense. Resolutions include:

A limit on daily gelato intake
Whole grains
Fresh Fruits
Veggies
Meat, if affordable
Daily run/bike around the wall of Lucca = 2.5 miles (This might not seem like much but please do consider that I already walk and bike EVERYWHERE I go.)

Please feel free to guess how long this new routine will last.

Today's off to a great start! One thing that's really helped out my diet (of a day) is the water here. There are fountains all around Lucca with "potable" water that's apparently fresh from the mountainside. But all the Italians drink it so they told the students here to do so. Unfortunately, there are different types of bacteria in this water than in ours, so...we'll just call it a dietary aid. Normally it only takes about 3 days for your body to adjust, but I'll keep you updated. I went running this evening around the wall and it's absolutely beautiful. The sun was setting and it made the landscape even more breathtaking. I love the use of color in Europe. All the bright houses and rooftops against the green grass and trees just make life seem a little more cheerful.

And that's it! The new me. We'll see how long she sticks.

I'll leave you with my thought of the day. This stems from the fact that I'm in Italy, that I don't speak the language, and that I managed to fake my way into the intermediate Italian class by modifying the French I know into Italian. Our placement exam was an interview and while I understood what I was being asked, replying was definitely another story. BUT, as with life, when learning a language the best way to do so is by speaking it. It feels risky and it's daring, but that's life. So I totally made up Italian answers. The end.

"I am always doing that which I cannot do, in order that I may learn how to do it. ~Pablo Picasso

Life's a risk! Live it!

Sisters in Switzerland

2007-06-10T10:13:00.000-07:00

Switzerland is a great place. But Switzerland with this girl is an even better place! This weekend has definitely been one of the highlights of my time in Europe. I left Nice on Friday afternoon and caught a flight to Geneva to meet up with my sister, Karlie. She's currently studying French in Annecy, about an hour and a half bus ride from Geneva, so it made a convenient meeting point. Despite the convenience, trying to find each other was far from being so! Kar has no phone, mine only likes to work occasionally, and the train station in Geneva isn't the smallest. After getting several phone calls from my mom and traipsing across the city to the other station where my sister WAS NOT, I finally found her waiting exactly where I'd been an hour and a half earlier. Despite a rough start, our weekend ended up being fantastic!

Friday night we started our self-guided tour of Geneva. We walked along the lakeside, checked out the famous fountain "Jet d'eau," and then walked a REALLY long ways to find a restaurant called Cafe du Soleil. And it was well worth the walk! This cafe is famed for its fondue, and I am happy to testify in the fondues behalf. It's amazing! The creme brulee and mousse du chocolat were not found wanting either.

The next morning we experienced one of our favorite parts of Geneva: the free breakfast in our hotel. Packets of Nutella, light, flaky croissants, cheeses, meats, granola, need I go on? I'm just sayin'...We decided to eat enough for two meals. It seemed like the economical option. Afterwards, however, we decided we needed a work out so we spent the entire day on our feet. We spent the morning in Geneva and went to the Jardin Anglais with its famous flower clock and the St. Pierre Cathedral. Both were absolutely amazing. The hike up to the towers of the cathedral was a bit rough, considering we each were about 10 lbs. heavier than when we woke up, but I'm still blogging, so I survived.

We then took a train out to Montreux, a smaller town on the other side of the lake and walked to the Chateau du Chillon. For me, this was probably my favorite afternoon of my entire European stay thus far. I love the mountains! And I live in Texas, so it's been awhile. But the Swiss Alps are amazing and with their majesty comes a peace and serenity that revitalized my "I can't believe I've been doing homework again" self. We headed back to Geneva around six to catch dinner at another fantastic restaurant, "On y mange du poulet." Translated, it basically means that "here one eats chicken." Guess what the specialty is on their menu? You got it! Chicken! And it was probably some of the best chicken we'd ever eaten. (I feel like I can speak for both of us Kar).
Today was Stake Conference and the 25th anniversary of the Geneva Stake. It was a really neat program with speakers that had been there with President Ezra Taft Benson at the original organization. After church we went to the Jardin Exotique and followed it up with a quick stop at the Musee Adriana and a guided tour of the U.N.'s Geneva headquarters. And that was our trip to Switzerland!
I conclude this entry of "Sisters in Switzerland" with one of my favorite expressions in the French language, due to its unique conjugation, and send it out to my sister who's currently on a bus to Annecy: Tu me manques! (I miss you!)

Stay tuned for next weekend's episode..."Sisters in Florence!"

On Aging

2007-06-06T06:29:00.000-07:00

"A man's age is something impressive, it sums up his life: maturity reached slowly and against many obstacles, illnesses cured, griefs and despairs overcome, and unconscious risks taken; maturity formed through so many desires, hopes, regrets, forgotten things, loves. A man's age represents a fine cargo of experiences and memories."
~Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, Wartime Writings 1939-1944, translated from French

I'm now 23 years old. "Mon anniversaire" passed rather uneventfully. Went to school, came home, ate lunch, took a nap, bought some toothpaste, ate 2 packs of PIMS single-handedly, and then had an International birthday dinner with a few friends from Mexico, France and Spain. I heard the equivalent of "Happy Birthday" sung in 4 different languages. The most entertaining was English, due to the heavy accents.

At the end of the day, it was just another ordinary day (as birthday's tend to be) and it was absolutely perfect. As I did a mental summary of the past year of my life, and then reflected on the past 23 years, I decided that, for me, the ordinary things about life are what make it truly extraordinary. Basically, it's the simple things happening every moment that add beauty and dimension to our lives.

So here's to the ordinary things that have made my life "a fine cargo of experiences and memories"!

Sunshine * Laughter * Sisters * Being pulled in a kayak behind a speedboat at Lake Powell * Having a family plan that lets me call my mom whenever I want * Watching movies from Netflix and ordering in dinner with Jenn * Attempting to diet and failing miserably * Running * Being outside * Putting on makeup and getting ready to go out * A fantastic first date * Sharing ice cream with my girlfriends while venting about the ridiculous boys in our lives * Not having to set the alarm clock * Reading a good book * Crying when you haven't let yourself in months * Thinking * Making lists * Getting emails * Watching a sunset * Going to church * People-watching * Playing piano * Learning something new * A hot shower * Pedicures * Going shopping * Cafe Rio * Having a bad day and knowing that somehow life has to get better * Working with a singer * Talking politics * Staying in when it rains * Making plans and setting goals * Failing often and succeeding sometimes * Always waking up in the morning * Having someone smile at you * Trying something new * Loving someone

Life's not perfect. This year of my life's been far from it. But if I had to give a summary of my life today, it would be extraordinary. And I owe it all to the amazing people in my life and the extraordinary beauty of "every-day," ordinary living. Let's see if I feel the same at 24. :)

"We turn not older with years, but newer every day." ~Emily Dickinson

PICS: Marie-Therese, Marie, Daniele and I at my birthday party.
The hideous pair of slippers that Daniele gave me for my birthday. She rocks!

It's a Small World

2007-06-04T05:44:00.000-07:00

What a weekend!

Started out in Monaco on Friday afternoon, and I loved it. Would have loved it more if I had loads of money to spend in all the ritzy boutiques, but it was fun nonetheless. The casino, le Jardin Exotique, the panoramic views...it was all fantastic. But my favorite part? The Musee Oceanographique! If you're ever in Monaco, I highly recommend it. The bottom 2 floors are an aquarium (which I didn't know before going) and, although I've never been one to get overly excited about fish, this was awesome! I broke out my iPod and turned on "La mer," classic French song, and it was a bit surreal. And that's Monaco in a nutshell!

Saturday there were 3 noteworthy occurrences. #!-I slept in until 10:30! Might not seem like such a big deal, but I haven't been able to sleep since I got to France, so it was miraculous! Got my day off to a great start! #2-I went to the flower market that happens every morning in Nice. It's breathtaking!!! I love flowers in general and the variety at the market was unreal. Fantastic scents, gorgeous colors...truly beautiful. #3-There was a type of "fair" going on along the Promenade des Anglais called "L'Italia a la table." Inside a series of enormous tents they had displays of everything edible Italian. Cheeses, meats, pastas, treats...you name it, it was there. Once again, there were some amazing scents! And although I'll be sad to leave Nice the end of this week, I realized that Italy will definitely be bearable.

Sunday was the definitive day of the week! Randomly found out that one of the elders in the ward went to school with my sister Karlie. Also met a girl who had arrived in Nice to meet up with her friend and travel around Europe. She just happened to be from Orem, UT and goes to UVSC! Small world! She'd been in France studying (French) for 5 weeks and was just returning from Paris. So I totally ran around with two girls from Utah for an entire afternoon/evening! It honestly was a bit odd to speak English nonstop, and I found myself constantly wanting to respond in French. New sensation. But I was reminded of the beauty of companionship! While my solo traveling routine is convenient in many ways, it's also nice to have people to share in your experiences. So Melissa, Melissa and I roamed throughout Nice, revisited the chateau, waded in the Mediterranean and ate a fantastic French meal! Random acquaintances, but now friends! It was probably one of my best days in Nice. When I came home in the evening, I also found out that I have a new apartment-mate. He's from Madrid, Spain and speaks almost no French so I've been picking up Spanish and he's been putting his English to good use! And while it's not the best French practice, it's nice to have another person to talk too.

Last interesting development of my life came today. There are 2 new students in my class and it turns out that one is from Houston, Texas! It really is a small world. It seems to be the pattern of my life that as I start getting settled in a city, I immediately have to uproot. Apparently it's no different here. This will be my last week in Nice and then it's on to Italy. While Italy will be equally amazing, I can't help but feeling like I'm leaving home all over again. Such is life!

Updates for my Daddy!!!

2007-06-01T14:13:00.001-07:00

This entry is officially dedicated to my father. Apparently he reads my blog! I have been rather lax with my entries lately, as he pointed out, so here come the updates.

That being said, my week has seemed pretty ordinary. Granted I'm in France, so ordinary's a bit different, but...The weather has been a bit bizarre. "Mistral" winds have hit, bringing in cold fronts and rain at random points throughout the week. That's contributed to my "home" lifestyle, because I don't fancy being out and about in the rain much. Also, I've had a great deal of homework as of late. I haven't had to conjugate imperfect subjunctive French verbs in a long while and I'm definitely rusty! But mostly, I love ordinary. Not in the negative connotation, but in the sense that I'm settled in here. I truly feel an attachment to Nice and the people here that I know and love. It's hard to believe that I'll be leaving it all behind in only a week.

Today was a bit more eventful...I went to Monaco! But that's another entry. :)

PICTURES OF THE WIND-TOSSED MEDITERRANEAN: One of the few times the beach has been empty!!!

Closest to the "red carpet" I'll get!!!

2007-05-29T05:33:00.000-07:00

Cannes: Check out some of the mid-sized yachts in the background. Seriously, those one's are the mid-sized.

L'eglise

2007-05-27T08:06:00.000-07:00

This might seem like a bit of a surprise after Friday's homesick entry, but I NEVER WANT TO LEAVE NICE!!! Yesterday I found the church and it was such a fantastic experience that I've seriously had thoughts of just moving here permanently. Probably would need to find a little funding to do so, but...I'm sure I could pick up a sponsor or two floating around Cannes right now. A few people in that town this weekend who I'm sure wouldn't miss a little extra.

Speaking of the festival, it was nice. Didn't spot any celebs, didn't really see any films...basically it was just a good opportunity to do some serious people-watching while enjoying the "ambiance" of the film festival. I've decided that if I ever am back in town for the film festival, I'll make sure to bring a couple guys in dark suits and shades with me. I'll put on a big, floppy hat, sunglasses, and heels, and see how many people I can fool into thinking that I'm someone trying to go "un-noticed." That would be true entertainment.

The more adventurous aspect of my trip to Cannes was the bus ride there. I had a kind older gentleman approach me at the bus stop to make sure he could catch the right bus. I hoped I was at the correct stop so I told him yes, although I had my personal doubts. Anyways, we ended up on the right bus, of course he sat by me, and OF COURSE he had the WORST breath I have ever smelled in my life. This wasn't a problem for the first 30 minutes of the trip, since we didn't talk, but once he started chatting...I've really been out of luck with the odor experiences lately. Needless to say he talked for the remainder of the 2 hour trip. He must have been really desparate to talk to someone, because I only caught about half the things he was saying since he had a bit of a slur to his speech and absolutely no enunciation. He was also potentially crazy because the things I DID understand were pretty far out there. One minute he was telling me about a new fountain in Antibes, the next about how many tourist were in town :), and then he started on a story about his friends who had lost their arms and legs. I gave one word answers periodically, nodded, smiled, etc. Remember Dean? But apparently one word answers were more than enough. Because he just kept going. At least I had an entertaining ride, although a somewhat rancid smelling one.

Sunday was church and it was great. I actually understood everything that went on, mostly because I know the English version well enough to figure out the French vocab that I didn't know. I even gave an answer in Gospel Principles! I loved hearing a meeting conducted in a different language though and it was interesting hearing sister's in Relief Society give their opinions on what a testimony was--the lesson was on an October conference talk. AND I got to play the piano!!! The hymns sound terrible in French! It's a gorgeous language, but if you actually sing French with all the nasality of the language, it's not so hot. Still, it was fun. Talked to the missionaries, got a B of M for Danielle, caught the correct buses to and from...chalk it up as a successful day!

And that was my weekend! Anyone else have a good one? Or an extra-long one for that matter? It's Memorial Day, right?