'Tis the Season

So...when did December happen?!? Someone told me the date yesterday and I was seriously shocked. Not just as in, "Wow, I knew it was the 7th, but I just can't believe how fast this week has gone by!" but rather, "Wow, I really have no concept of time and fully believed it was somewhere around the 3rd." It happens when you don't look at a calendar.

My main regret in being so acutely unaware? The neglect of my Christmas decor.

When I say decor, I'm using it in the singular sense of the word: this advent calendar is my one and only. Unless you want to count the mounds of snow outside my cabin.

This chocolate beauty was purchased in Germany in mid-October on my way back from San Francisco. We always had an advent calendar growing up...mom's was hand-sewn and crafty, and unfortunately neither of those descriptors are in my personal vocabulary. BUT chocolate is. So when I saw this (and was informed that it would be infinitely more expensive if available in Russia), I got a jump-start on the holiday season.

And then, forgot. About a ***calendar filled with chocolate***!!! Who is this person!?! I hardly know myself anymore! Answer: One who keeps way too much chocolate in the house. To the point that a chocolate calendar is left huddled in the corner, wanting for attention. NO LONGER! I successfully got up-to-date with little effort, and threw a Reese's shaped like a Christmas tree into the mix for good measure.

So, what's happened in the week that managed to escape my notice?

In order of random thought:

1. I have a roommate. He has yet to make himself visible, but I've heard him scurrying away overhead. My Russian neighbor/colleague refers to him as "Jerry." I. Hate. JERRY!
People, I've dealt with a mouse or two in my time...I'm OVER it. My neighbors on the other side can't understand my disdain. Today I was told how adorable, small, and cute little mice can be. If I was starving to the point that I needed to eat a rodent, I might find them somewhat attractive. Otherwise, get thee hence!

2. A holiday part to kick of the Christmas season!!! Two years ago, I was in Moscow for the first time. And attended a Christmas party at the home of Lyuba, the English teacher for some of our Bolshoi artists. It was one of the most magical evenings in my life, albeit that I understood approximately 25% of what was being said. The singers all broke out some American Christmas carols, and then followed them up with Russian, Ukrainian, and Armenian folk songs. Fabulous food, fascinating company, and an overall sense of awe at the foreign cultural experience that was that evening.

Fast forward two years. Same house. New and familiar faces. Understanding about 90% of conversation and actually engaging and playing a part in the evening that I had before only witnessed. Music, food, friends...and a reality check. Two years ago, I never would have envisioned that I'd be where I am today. And therein is the true beauty of life. The unexpected. Twists and turns that occasionally bring you around full circle.

For the others, this picture was a joke. But in my case, this was how I felt sooner than I should have. I'm a fading flower post-midnight it turns out. (Really, that should read post-10 pm, but that's slightly embarrassing).

3. I got fired by my Russian teacher. No joke. She had had enough of meeting with me at the early hour of 8:30 am and informed me that her complexion and health were suffering because of it. She tried to pass me off to three of the other teachers (these are individual courses) and I was flatly refused each time. Word has it there might be one who's willing...which would be convenient, given that I'd like to learn this language someday.

4. I started studying. For real. This was before getting fired. And after. It's exam month my friends. And while grades might be irrelevant in this stage of life, academic performance and the challenges therein will never lose their attractiveness. So it's back to the books. I have a serious amount of grammar to master.

5. Snow. It deserves its own number here.

And that's a December snapshot. What's your month looking like thus far? Hopefully it's chocolate-filled! 'Tis the season!

Thanksgiving Someday

Remember when I bought a turkey and was ecstatic about my newly-found life purpose? That purpose being to stuff and cook said bird.

Well, it's still in my fridge. And I haven't exactly determined when Thanksgiving will take place in this household, but I'm preparing for it nonetheless. Pie crusts are made and filling them is on the itinerary for tomorrow. I've cubed and dried bread for stuffing and have all the ingredients to brine the bird. I'm adopting the whole "If you build it, they will come" approach. If I keep gradually preparing, maybe my schedule will open a window for bird bake-age. And, especially critical, maybe an oven will appear in which to do so. I'll keep you posted on the status of said Thanksgiving miracle.

Despite the lack of Thanksgiving in my household, I successfully crashed another Thanksgiving feast with the offering of a pecan pie. I don't care for nuts. Or pie really. But when you happen across hard-to-find pecans and have been told that it's your host's favorite? Done and done. It was always one of Grandpa Rhodes' favorites, so I happily enjoyed a trip down memory lane while making it. And given my love for multiple Thanksgivings, a pie was a small price to pay for Thanksgiving Round One.

Ate turkey, check. And more importantly stuffing, check. Pie, check. Gratitude? Feeling it.

Two years ago I celebrated my first Thanksgiving out of the country. In Moscow. And would have never guessed I'd be living here today. I'm so grateful for the unexpected. For the twists and turns in life that take you to places and in directions you yourself never imagined.

I'm grateful for possibility, for scheming and dreaming, for success and even for failure. I'm grateful for the ability to change, to grow, to adapt, and to learn. And to eventually become.

And most especially? I'm grateful for all the people that make the above possible.

Happy Thanksgiving! Round One...

One Vote for Hibernation

In case you didn't know, today is Thursday. I offer this reminder because...I forgot.

I like to think that I am not alone in my forgetfulness. Opera World has an odd schedule with sporadic free days and an ever fluctuating schedule, which can be both a blessing and a curse. In this case the latter, as knowing what day it is loses its significance. Monday isn't dreaded when it's your day off. Saturday isn't the weekend and Wednesday isn't a halfway marker. It might seem like a ridiculous justification, but it's one of mine.

And I need justification. In forgetting that it was Thursday, I stood up my Russian teacher for an 8:30 am Russian lesson. I was even awake and functional at the hour, despite a late night rehearsal yesterday evening. And when I say functional, I mean it in every sense except that of knowing what day of the week it is.

Not only does it get difficult to remember days of the week, but now time is also becoming an issue. In this case, I believe my excuse is legitimate.

Exhibit A:

Any time the sun rises after 9 am and sets just after 5, I'm convinced that having an accurate sense of what time it is becomes an impossibility. Beyond a sense of time, I also have a very limited desire to do anything productive. I really have only one thought on my mind: hibernation. Let's take a lesson from the Russian bears, which are unfortunately scarce in Moscow.

So, in the end, I blame my forgetfulness on humanity's refusal to hibernate. It's the only logical explanation! Back me up?

What the NaBloPoMO???

So, on October 31st I read a post from one of my new blog best friends (this making friends via blog is an entirely new concept for me--loving it!) who participates in the NaBloPoMo. Don't worry, I had to look it up too...the only thing it brought to my mind was the string of substitute expletives I like to use when dealing with UPS. As it turns out, it stands for National Blog Posting Month, which is apparently going on as we speak! The NaBloPoMo challenge: pronunciation. I dare you to try and pronounce that string of letters. It almost brings Russian to mind. But not quite. Second (and actual) challenge: write a blog post every day for the month of November.

I'm not a quick one to jump on the commitment bandwagon, so I was a bit reticent to declare any intentions of participation. I decided to try blogging for two days in a row and see how it went.

Answer: I did NOT want to write anything tonight.

I've always loved writing. When I was in the 4th grade I was selected to attend a writing conference at the nearby university and promptly came home, convinced I would be a great author, and set up a writing station where I could get allow my creativity to really flow. This "station" happened to be in our basement storage room on a TV tray. I emptied out my neon green Kindergarten binder...I was so over that child's play...and filled it with empty sheets of paper. After writing one horror story for a competition sponsored by the Goosebumps series author, and NOT winning, I moved along in my ambitions. Like I said, commitment isn't always my forte.

Despite the fact that I did not pursue said career as renowned author, my fascination with words never went away. But where I like to write varies. Occasionally that might be for the masses. Meaning my 8 followers...thank you family! But in my life I have also found that writing often equivocates to cheap therapy. Translation: journal. Somehow putting thoughts onto paper frees my mind up enough to see them in a different light. But even when I write for myself I'm inconsistent. And that's something I'd like to change.

So I'll start by declaring my intentions and commitment here in the public arena. Here with Day 3 of NaBloPoMo. Committing myself to write, to clutter up your feeds, and to see if somewhere along the way forcing myself to use my words helps me rediscover them.

A Girl Named Candy

All relationships require effort. End of story. (Not really). But some are more complicated than others. While I believe that working in the opera business has trained me to quickly recognize high-maintenance behaviors, I am nonetheless mortal and, in so being, occasionally fall victim to relationships that are less-than-desirable.

Meet Candy.

At first glance, she seems so simple. Even familiar. But on closer acquaintance, things get complicated.

I try not to ask too much of her, but pushing her buttons even lightly tends to send her into nonfunctional disarray. It would seem I can't find the right combination to induce a proper response.

Originally, I thought she was just a washing machine. But she actually comes complete with weather forecast...primarily clouds and rain. With occasional snow and...leaves???

She thinks she's world class...

...but is often too smart for her own good.

Take, for example, our Halloween Holiday celebration. That afternoon I decided we should spend some quality time together. So I gave her some dirty clothes...always makes for a nice time...pushed a few of her buttons, and waited. But apparently she wasn't in the mood. I tried to coax her out of her sulking, non-responsive state, but after 20 minutes found no success. I checked back in an hour later to see if I could get her going. No luck. I gave up. I'm only willing to work so hard for Candy on Halloween...

About three in the morning, I woke up with a start. Apparently Candy had decided it was time for the party. And gave me a mini-heart attack.

The next day, I decided it was time for Round 2: I put in a load, pushed some buttons, and walked away, waiting for a response. And I got one...about 2 hours later. Apparently there's more than one temperamental lady in the house.

So, I guess you could say we're still working on our relationship. But for the time being it seems we've come to a mutual understanding: when laundry needs to happen, it should not be done with any type of time frame. This machine's got a mind of her own.

Talk about high maintenance. Now you know what to expect the next time you run into a girl named Candy.

When's the Best TIme to Start Over?

When you think about living in a foreign country, the first things that come to mind are the glaring differences: location, language, culture, traditions...some days the list seems longer than others.

But beyond the apparent contrasts lies a realm of subtle differences, perhaps less noticeable but equally noteworthy. The daily details.

I was working late one night and glanced over at my phone to check the time. And the beauty of the numbers almost took my breath away. 00:00.

Military time.

There was something in seeing those numbers that reaffirmed the newness of each day. No matter how the 23 hours 59 minutes passed before it, you still arrive at 00:00. You wake up to a clean slate, a fresh start.

And I can't tell you how often I need those. Definitely more than every 24 hours!

The reminder to shake off the past, forget negativity, redouble your efforts, and LIVE is always invaluable. And while I don't care to witness the moment every evening...this lady needs her beauty sleep!...I'm happy to know that 00:00 exists.

Life is not a dress rehearsal. Stop practicing what you’re going to do and just go do it. In one bold stroke you can transform today.
~Marilyn Grey