"Suffer in four bar phrases!" 2003-09-10 - 6:29 p.m.
*happy contented sigh of musically-induced exhaustion*
So yeah. I had my second lesson today, and it went really well. Whatever Dr. Flute Teacher said, it just made sense. The lightbulbs were going off over Mangofarmer's head at, well, light speed. You know? My only thought was, why didn't anyone teach me this before?
*ahem AHEM Bitchy McEvil COUGH cough*
She actually called me a joy to teach. Jeebus. I'm a joy because I'm quick to pick up little technical things all these little freshmen here probably learned years ago. Heh. Oh well.
Dr. Flute Teacher also gave my number to some Pushy Music Mom (not quite the same animal as a Soccer Mom, but similar) who wants flute lessons for her daughter. Eeeeeeeeek. Here goes. This daughter supposedly is 15. My sister, the awesome one, pleasegoleaveherlovin'andhappythoughtsbecausesheneedsthem is 16. This can't be that scary, can it? When it came to private teaching, Bitchy McEvil always said to just do it. Yeah. If that was her mentality, can you see why she was such a horrible teacher? If I were to just do teaching, I'd have gotten a sensible music ed degree and could have a job teaching Central Whereverville Middle School Band right now. But no. It is my humble opinion that you should be taught how to teach before you teach. And there should be some underlying passion there, you know? Just maybe I'm almost there, I want to spread my flute geek knowledge to the young citizens of Grad Schoolville, but..... eeeeek! Yeah.
Grad school implies a lot of stuff to think about. There are big papers and projects and such looming overhead in the distant horizon.
Yeah. Thinking. I'm not sure how I feel about that. Heh.