My Life 10 Years Ago

My life 10 years ago? I barely remember, frankly. Probably because it bore so little resemblance to my life today. Still, it's amusing to look back in one's journal and laugh - or groan - or wince. Or all three.


2002

3 February   Semi-finalists (for the Studio) party yesterday OK. Large River Oaks house filled with Americana, wonderful folk art portraits, etc. Good food. A bunch of us ate around the island/breakfast bar in the airy kitchen, much jollier and easier than balancing one's plate on one's knee while perched primly on a couch. Again, hung out with J_ and S_. He keeps relating colorful facts and anecdotes to her about me. They are disgustingly in love, she billing and cooing, and he solicitous and adoring. I nearly threw up.
    I was never able to bill and coo with __ in public, since our relationship was clandestine, so I've never experienced firsthand the joys of being nauseatingly romantic in front of other people. Am certain, however, that it must give one a sort of smug satisfaction.
     This promises to be a very busy week, and my day off isn't till Sunday, which will have been a week and a half since my last day off, which I didn't take because I gave an outside coaching to D_ and made the chorus master copy for Abduction. So I'll be right grumpy by the time Sunday rolls around, what with all that, plus suffering from bearing witness to nauseating lovers' exhibitions of affection, and Valentine's Day looming up - as if I really need further reminding of my state of blessed singleness.

8 February   This very busy week of Studio semis and finals is over. I got to play the concert segment of the finals last night - the Cesare duet, the final duet from Carmen, and the audience sing-along of "God Bless America." The Handel was, I'm happy to report, the highlight of the entire evening. M_ and A_ and I were much more attuned to each other than in the scenes program; there was a wonderful hush over the audience; many compliments afterward. I felt I played well - surprisingly, I received many more compliments on my playing of the Handel than on the Bizet. I guess I underestimated the sophistication level of the audience.

9 February   Yes, today is Jeff Bowen's birthday, and yes, it is totally sad that I would, at 42 years of age, still remember the birthday of the boy I had a hopeless crush on in the 7th grade.
     I have become a Sex and the City addict. But I can't decide if I watch it to feed my fantasy of what I wish my own singledom were like, or if I watch it to make myself feel better that I'm not on that horrible "dating-having sex-hoping it turns into a relationship-breaking up-being temporarily disillusioned-putting back together your shreds of hope-telling yourself you're still fabulous" carousel.

17 February   Life plods on. I should be learning Samson and Delilah, but I keep putting it off. And I can't seem to decide on a novel to read.
     Maybe my dream of the unfinished poem the other night has something to to do with my inability of late to finish anything. But my whole life seems to be in limbo right now. Even work - J_ showed me an article in the Houston Press about the rather alarming effect of Enron's demise on HGO. It mentioned layoffs. Can HGO survive this? We've made it through difficulties in the past, but this one seems to be of much greater proportion. Frankly, I don't know what I would do, should worse come to worse. The thought of relocating is too much for me. I don't have that "vagabond gene" that so many people have; I want to stay in one place. Fear of change, I suppose. Embracing change as the only constant in life is something that has always eluded me.
     Oh, this "nothing time"! Nothing happening, every day pretty much the same. Better to feel something than nothing - even if it's teeth. (That's a line from Impromptu.)