Mit uber uber super de duper schmaltz 2003-09-12 - 6:17 p.m.
Pickle jar update (see previous entry), or why I am destined for the convent: after a week of trying, I opened the damn jar and did indeed have a pickle with my turkey sandwich.
Anywho, Mrs. Pushy Flute Mom left me a message this afternoon. So it looks like I may indeed have a flute student very soon. Eeek! Egads! And other such interjections beginning with 'e'! Yeah. But money is good. Money is very very good. I should pass around a collection plate in wind ensemble on Monday, for the "Buy Sarah a Plane Ticket Home for Fall Break" fund. That, or I could pick a nice corner, set my flute case out, and start playing... Jenn-of-the-granny-car tells me that it is important to put a bill or two in your case beforehand, otherwise people will just give you change. Good to know, I think. :)
Well, what the heck I'm I going to do with myself this weekend? No football and... no football make Sarah a dull girl. And it's not like Bumblefuck football is going to be on TV in Gradschoolville. Damn. I guess I have to use that time to practice or something. Gih.
Have I mentioned how much I love playing in orchestra? Even though Gliere might have been on lots of crack when he wrote the piccolo part to "Russian Sailor's Dance", in playing it today I had one of those passing revelations that really make life worthwhile sometimes:
Music makes me so happy.
*happy contented sigh of goofiness and schmaltz*
("Schmaltz" is an important musical term, of course.)
Yeah. Moments like those make you forget about the three million people who are better than you and the three people that held you back in undergrad and the three decades (times two) that it's going to take for you to pay off your graduate loans and realize, that you make music, and that is a joy and privilege above all things.
*schmaltz ad infinitum*
Well, I'd continue, but thankfully I just lost my train of thought, so I won't. Have a splendiferous weekend all. :)