OSU and Nostalgia

I feel guilty about not blogging too often. You would think that with writing journals everyday, this would be super easy, but I have to think about what I want freely displayed on the internet. There are stories about people at ProMusica (not necessarily bad stories but still I don’t want to invade people’s privacy or anything) that are better off left at ProMusica, and there are thoughts too raw to publish for the world just yet. By that I mean, at this point I have rediscovered the true art of journal writing which I haven’t really made use of since middle school. In all academic writing the purpose is to make a point. But the purpose of writing a journal is to find one. If you were to read the journals that I used to keep semi-regularly when I was younger, which you won’t, you would see that my thoughts jump around but then combine together in the process of writing. In an academic paper, you’re supposed to have finished making these connections and what have you by the time you start writing. You begin with a goal in mind. With walkabout journals, the goal is to just write until the page fills up. This can yield interesting results, and my inner perfectionist isn’t ready to just copy+paste them into a blog. What do you mean I do the same thing when I write a blog? Lies!

So I may as well start with Thursday. I didn’t write a journal on Thursday because I didn’t go to Walkabout; I played with the band at OSU and went home. Well, that was the plan. I actually played with the band at OSU, went to choir (well, hung out with Jesse in a practice room) and went to Prospice and then went home. It’s a good thing the OSU concert was informal, because we weren’t really ready for a real performance. I think overall we played decently though. What’s more, I really enjoyed the experience. I realized that if I could just go to band everyday and that were it, I would be perfectly happy. I guess that makes my intended major in performance sound like a good choice. One would expect that to lift my spirits more than it does. I guess I wish I would suddenly come to some other conclusion, something that I could be more confident about. I need to find more confidence somewhere if I’m to go through with this performance thing. Things can still change though: either my goals or my disposition to them, or both.

I was disappointed that the choir didn’t actually do any work. Mr. Griffin hadn’t managed to sleep much the night before and realized early in the day that he was in no disposition to teach. I still got to say hello and everything. Plus, I was happy to spend time with Jesse. I did some thinking when we were in the practice room. Jesse was playing songs she had written on the piano. I’ve barely done any “composing” (hahaha, I’ve done no composing—I’ve done musical doodling) ever, but through formal piano training I was able to show off my awesome arsenal of piano repertoire. Jesse has taken a few piano lessons here and there, but she’s done a lot more musical doodling. The songs mostly aren’t overly complicated, although she’s tried using more interesting progressions lately. The problem is, she hasn’t finished these songs. But even though I can say “oh! Tritone substitution!” Even though I can recognize patterns, I really don’t feel confident trying to make stuff up myself. I think that’s kind of too bad. I’d like to mess around with that some when “free time” happens.

My Name is Miriam, and I am an Internet Addict

Today, I essentially spent the entire day making calls for the SAB gala. There wasn't really anything else I needed to do, and there were plenty of calls to make. I still find it hard to explain, comprehend, or admit how very much I detest having to do this and how very slowly it goes. I can't believe I spent the whole day doing this, I think I counted maybe twelve calls from my spreadsheet at the end. I don't understand how I managed to break that up over so many hours essentially not doing anything else. I think I'm also really self-conscious about the time I spend in general because I don't want it to seem like I'm ever sitting around doing nothing or wasting time or in fact doing something I'm not supposed to be doing.

The last is a fear that derives from another fear: that I will start to abuse the presence of a computer right in front of me for hours at a time with no one watching over my shoulder. You would think, being the good responsible person that I am that this wouldn't be an issue. And, I certainly intend for it not to become one. But especially through college comp, I have developed a habit of compulsively checking blogs and Facebook and webcomics in an effort to "break up a task" or more honestly, to avoid it. After that, it became something I just expected to do as soon as I'd gotten on the computer. For example, tonight I was on the computer for a full hour before I started to write this journal. I complain about not getting enough sleep, and then I get home from CYSB to not just write my journal and move on, but to dawdle about on Facebook, to check blogs, to look at visitor stats on my own [lame excuse for a] blog. The point is, all wisdom says that I should have just written this journal and gone to bed. Even better, I could have practiced piano first, which I haven't done nearly enough in general the past two weeks. This concerns me. I have never accessed Facebook from ProMusica, but I can because the SAB often works through it. I am worried that it will too quickly become a habit and I'll get myself into some problems.

Seriously though, can one be addicted to the internet? I remember when this guy from AA came to talk to my summer health class and I believe he said that an alcoholic "drinks to get drunk." I remember because he commented that he hadn't understood that definition to begin with because he didn't understand that this wasn't the case for everyone—that getting drunk was not the only purpose to which alcohol could be consumed. So what is the parallel for the internet? I think there really is a numbing effect, a calming effect to staring at a screen. There is something then addictive to constantly checking for updates. Do I make excuses for myself? No, I haven't done anything wrong yet. But I think the fact that I even think that I would—that I think just going to Facebook once would lead to a downward spiral—is kind of telling. Could be that I worry too much too. That one shouldn't be discounted either.

But I did make use of ProMusica's slow internet connection to prolong the time between phone calls. I would decide that there was something I should check first and have to load several internet pages at a crawling pace. Then I would think, I wonder if Julia has sent me an email asking me to do something else? (Doubly wishful thinking and procrastination!) This never managed to be the case. Katie apparently came in for five minutes or so but I didn't even see her. I think we're finishing up these phone calls on Thursday except for the one person who told me to call on Monday. Except that's not really true, because there were a few places I made excuses not to call and then there's a list of ideas of things to acquire that don't necessarily have a specific company or store attached to them and those will eventually become more phone calls too. I really, really, really just want to be done with this. I'm not going to my placement tomorrow and I'm surprised to realize what a relief that is for me. I really hate to get too negative, and I expect that anything that rubs me the wrong way is all the better of an experience, but I'm still just as glad to get a day off. Now, if only I could sleep in too…

Monday Blues

Do you want to hear about my weekend? Sorry, I don't want to write about it right now. It's a bit late. I don't even really want to write about today. Suffice it to say that the concerts went beautifully and there really isn't much more to be said about rehearsals anyway. Sorry, I'm not feeling like exerting much energy.

Something has been catching up with me today. Maybe it's just Monday, maybe it's that I didn't get a weekend, maybe it's because everyone around me is sick and I'm fighting something off (even if there aren't other symptoms) but I'm just tired, slow, and having trouble summoning up enthusiasm. I did various random, unconnected tasks today. Five thirty seemed really slow in coming. Even though I start somewhat later than I did during school, I'm using my mornings so I'm not really sleeping in. Part of my brain still thinks everything should be over by three o'clock. The other thing about school is that there's a change of scenery at least every eighty minutes or so. Things change, focus changes, and the day gets broken up. But I spent my whole day in the same room working from the same computer and my patience started getting thin. The computer was moving really slowly too.

Perhaps the most "exciting" thing that happened today was actually after I left the office. My dad drove me home and we were maybe five minutes away when I realized I had Julia's keys in my coat pocket from when I'd fetched some things from her car. So we got to go back downtown. I felt bad because when I called Julia she was getting ready to leave. One of the things I really want to do over Walkabout is actually stay organized with everything (I thrive on mess) but I've come to realize over the past couple of days that I just don't pay much attention to where I put things. You would think I'd have figured this out by now, but normally I just don't try very hard. Lately I've been intending to keep things together and in its proper place, but when I scamper off to do something, I'm bound to just set down a water bottle or, apparently, keep someone else's keys in my pocket. I've always like mess anyway, though. I'm not saying that entirely bitterly, even. Mess feels familiar and welcoming, kind of like I like old beat up books because there's evidence that they have been "loved." I'm probably just crazy, or at least I like to think I am. OK, I'm going to wrap this up because this will just get even sillier and more pointless the farther I go. I may as well just stop.

Chillaxin’ at the Southern

Yesterday was a pretty slow day for me. Most of it was spent at the Southern theatre for the rehearsals. We don't need to do a whole lot there, and I really can't help with most of that anyway. What's more, the little niche backstage where I spent my downtime had a TV and I have a tendency to be completely stupefied by those things. I think it's actually because I almost never watch TV, so when I do, I have a lot of trouble pulling my eyes away even though I really don't care about what's on. I have a feeling, therefore, that I may have missed some opportunities to at least ask to help because I just wasn't paying attention. The other thing is that when Julia left and I didn't know where, I really didn't have any way of knowing I wouldn't get lost wandering around the Southern, so I decided to stay put. I think I heard the weather forecast six times yesterday.

The first rehearsal at the Southern was open to senior citizens, and we handed out cookies and juice at break. That is, Katie and I handed out cookies and Juice to guests while Julia hunted down Vadim and Gary to confirm some things. There's not much to say about the open rehearsal. We were supposed to take pictures too, but I have a feeling they all came out blurry. People kept moving before the picture had actually taken.

After that, I really didn't have much to do. There were more rehearsing, but that didn't require anything from me. The niche backstage I mentioned earlier with the TV felt sort of like a cross between how I envision a dorm room and the back hallway. It was about the size of the back hallway, with chairs lining the edges in a similar arrangement. Where your office would be, there was in fact a non-functional elevator. There were two narrow tables covered in a mess of things and a bulletin board covered in things I mostly didn't read. There was a printout of a cyanide and happiness comic and a picture of the stage manager with the caption "who's your daddy?" The stage manager and a couple other people who worked at the theatre (I'm not sure exactly of their jobs) spent their time back there, as well as Julia some and Tim and a few musicians would come out at break.

When the rehearsal s ended, we had to bring everything over to the Josephinum. The harpsichord and some stands and chairs were shoved in a van and Julia drove us over to the Josephinum taking a stop first at Chipotle. Setting up went really quickly because there were a couple seminarian students helping, along with Katie and a friend of hers. We had to put stage lights on all the stands because the light isn't great there. Julia had just finished saying how she used to have to tape down all the chords but hasn't the last couple of times and no one said anything when I almost tripped over chords. I guess I'm just talented or something.

More, Better, Meetings

I don't want to just copy and paste my Wednesday Journal because I don't want to get gossipy. You see, on Wednesday there was an operations meeting between Tim Russel who is ProMusica's music director, Tom who plays trumpet in ProMusica and the CSO and I think does the contracting for ProMusica as well as maybe other things, Janet who is ProMusica's executive director, Julia who is my mentor and head of operations, and me. I don't think I necessarily said anything negative, but the most interesting thing for me was the social dynamics of the meeting. Negative things were said about some people, interesting decisions and comments about musicians were made, and the atmosphere of the meeting itself had me intrigued. I suddenly was extremely excited to have this Walkabout.

I think I accidentally saved yesterday's journal over Thursday's, which is rather unfortunate. I could probably retrieve it if I wanted. But anyway, I mostly talked about my visit to Reynoldsburg High School of Musicians in the Schools. I was mistaken for the musician instead of an observing intern. (I went by myself and Julia went somewhere else.) That was… interesting. I think it was overall a good experience though and turned out pretty entertaining when Hannah, the violinist who was supposed to actually work with the students got there. The kids made me laugh. It was a quartet that's performing today at solo and ensemble. Speaking of which, good luck to everyone today with that! J

More Calls and the SAB

February 3, 2009

When I arrived today I was in somewhat a better temperament than yesterday. I think the strangeness of this last weekend hadn't worn off completely yesterday and I was already somewhat overwhelmed to begin with. (Friday I had an audition at Duquesne and I spent the whole weekend in Pittsburg. Sunday night I went to a Columbus Symphony Youth orchestra concert and spent half the concert driving around looking for parking. Literally. I arrived at intermission.) The venting I did last night, both through my journal and at my oboe lesson, seemingly eased most of that tension so that from the beginning today could go better.

Even so, I did eventually have to go back to the list of potential contacts for donations for the student gala to make phone calls. I think I did better today, or at least I contacted more people and didn't spend as much time fighting with myself. After getting a blunt "no" a few times in a row I had to stop and regroup though. And I know that when I stopped my patience was somewhat thinner. I had to put together some directions for school visits and I was not in the mood to encouragingly urge to computers on but rather to curse at them, which I resisted the urge to do. As the day closed, I also became increasingly aware that I was not really done and that before I really had time to eat dinner I would have to come back for the Student Advisory Board meeting at seven o'clock.

I got home a little after six and my wonderful mother had put my share of the meal that she and my brother had already eaten in the microwave when she heard the garage door. I still was eating and running and this really ground on my nerves, I think because I felt like it was past time to be done for the day. School ends at 3:00 (…ish. Before at Linworth, after at Kilbourne) but my day at ProMusica ends at 5:30. And when school is over it's over, but I had to drive back before I'd really even been at home. I had that same tense, distressed feeling of dread that I experienced before all my late nights writing paper and such this year. Much worse than the day after was always the day before when I spent the day wondering if I'd really finish and if I could really make it through the night. And even with all my resolve and determination, there was always a fatalistic feeling that it would just never end and I'd never get to sleep. Now, instead of a never ending night I feared a never ending day. The knowledge that even my two all-nighters turned out not to be all that bad after the fact could not erase despairing cynicism.

Incidentally, I actually somewhat enjoyed the Student Advisory Board meeting. It felt kind of like a Prospice (Kilbourne's literary mag) meeting, only with more people who were, generally, more on top of things. Plus there's the part where at Prospice I was somewhat the leader people were looking to whereas this was my first SAB meeting and even though I'd had things explained to me beforehand I was still getting feel for how things worked and what we were doing. But I felt like we were discussing similar ideas for how to promote the student gala (as opposed to how to get submissions for the literary magazine) and that the social structure was following the same sorts of patterns. I also guess I hadn't really thought that much about how much time I'm spending working completely on my own, or just with Julia. I think interacting with peers was kind of refreshing, even though I have been going to band class. Maybe I also rejoiced secretly in the fact that many really weren't all that more on top of things than I was and that already. In any case, my day ended well enough so I must get some sleep before tomorrow's madness.

WALKABOUT UPDATES!!

This week has been absolutely mad and I just haven't gotten to update the blog. Honestly, I've barely done anything but go where I'm needed and conk out as soon as I get home. ProMusica has two concerts this weekend and that makes for long days. I'm just going to put some (probably edited) excerpts of journals up and the full journal about yesterday I think. Ready? Ready?

February 2, 2009

Today I felt almost as if I had just started school during exam week. There's a similar kind of pressure in the air and I really barely understand what needs to be done and what is going on. Not that I'm not being taken care of or anything like that, but I'm certainly in danger of being overwhelmed.

That said, the only thing that I did today regarding these concerts, besides review my schedule for the week, was attend the weekly staff meeting. The meeting, at 2:00 is the main source of my confusion and all the aforementioned emotions and sensations. As another analogy, part of the Passover seder is the tradition of four children, one wise, one wicked, one I forget completely , and one simple who "doesn't know how to ask." I have never really identified with that explanation of the simple child until today at that meeting. There were more things I didn't know or understand than I knew where to begin asking questions and too much information to hold onto and process. I felt my attention slipping even as I tried to put pieces together, I think because I wasn't really getting anywhere. It was kind of like what might happen if I were put in an advanced calculus class. Since I've taken a semester of calc with Char, I'd have some sense of the general ideas and concepts, but many would be entirely unfamiliar besides some obscure reference that might have once been made, and overall I wouldn't have a clue what was happening. When asked at the end, "do you have any questions?" I wanted to give a heartfelt yes, but I just didn't know what to say.

Mostly, however, I was doing work for ProMusica's Student Advisory Board with Julia's other intern, Katie. Katie won't be around as often as me, but she is actually on the Student Advisory Board (as opposed to my only having heard of it when Jen lined up this Walkabout) and I think she's also been working with Julia for a while. I think this put me kind of on edge because I had just one more impetus not to do dumb things—which will ultimately be unavoidable because in reality I just don't know about this kind of stuff not to do or at least say something stupid. We were working on the student Gala at the beginning of April, first coming up with ideas for things that might be used in a raffle or silent auction (or something) and eventually contacting businesses asking for donations.

I have always hated fundraising, always neglected to do it whenever possible, and generally dislike both asking for things and talking on the phone. This also accounts for why my interims were generally unspectacular. So, after drawing up the list and finding contact information for the first business on it (Chipotle) I stared at the phone. I rechecked the phone number and went over what I had to say. I stared at the phone. I picked it up and started to dial but it asked me for a password. I think the phone thought I intended to listen to its voicemail message. I learned I needed to press "line 1"(or "line 2," line 3," etc) if I wanted to actually dial out. I stared at the phone. I made the call.

I expected to do this a few times and stop hesitating. Not so. Every time, I had to stop, pull myself together and rally myself as if I were doing something truly difficult or even dangerous. It's amazing, I'll walk out in front of people and play oboe any day, even walk up and sing a song I barely know, but making phone calls asking for donations was nerve-grindingly hard beyond anything remotely rational. And I don't know how I might go about explaining that to Julia because it's kind of important to be able to do it. Not that I can't do it, I just… dislike it heartily.