Introducing: The M&M Series

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

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

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

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

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

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

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~