It's weird. It's been over a year since the recital, and I can probably count the number of times I've listened to the CD on one hand. I guess listening to it only reminded me of what an emotional wreck I was that day. My dad flat out refused to go to my senior recital (note: a big deal), because he was "too tired", so I did nothing but snap at people the entire day. Combine the guilt I was feeling at being such a snot, the expected exhaustion, and of course the negative comments of such a "supportive" teacher as Bitchy McEvil, and I came home and cried for three hours straight out of frustration and wretchedness.

That, and all I could do for so long was nitpick, only focusing on each tiny(and not so tiny) technical mistake and not hear it for what it was- 45 minutes of music that was so clearly, well, me. I love every single one of these pieces. And I played them like I loved them. And that is all that matters.

All I need to do now is snap out of this fuzzy reminiscent haze and reconnect who I was: a flute player who played like I loved it and got into three good graduate programs because of that, with who I am now: a flute player who has forgotten all of that and who is slowly getting pulled into the soul-sucking vortex that is retail. Good things are out there. Really.

So yeah. I need a virtual kick in the ass or two or six. I need to re-apply to the Grad School, find housing in Grad School-burg, and practice.

Positive affirmation helps sometimes. Unfortunately feelings of positivity never last very long. So, I'm going to go watch the end of "Friends", practice, and then sit on my ass and eagerly await another stupid boring pointless lonely empty weekend night. Woo to the hoo.

Yes, I'm going to shut up now. :)

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