"Oh Operator... information..."
Jun. 17th, 2003 05:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jaala(My new tactic for titles: quote at random any song heard that day. If, as today, I've heard no songs or didn't take notice of them, quote a song running through my head.)
I moved today, to my final destination in Sackville. I was sad to leave my interim hostess --we've become friends rather than acquaintances over the past couple of days--but I need to take care of a cat. The "new place" is way the heck out of town; it took me at least half an hour to bicycle back here. On the upside, I'm going to get plenty of exercise now, whether I want it or not. I also have the place to myself (until Imogen arrives, and aside from the cat), so it will be nice not to feel guilty about all the noise of my alarm clocks.
* * *
Though I do have access to internet at "home" (yay!) through an unlimited (yay!) dial-up (boo!) connection, I am at the Conservatory right now. My first piano lesson in two years took place here about four hours ago. It went well. The teacher thinks I am well on my way to being prepared for the Grade 6 exam in August, and she didn't find any huge flaws in my technique. At this point memorization (of both technical stuff and pieces) is looking to be the biggest challenge.
It sounds like it is safe to go back to the practice room and spend some time working on flute. Until about a minute ago, our Department's sole counter-tenor was practicing down the hall. Personality-wise, he is an absolute sweetheart (although very headstrong about the way he wants to sing), but he has a voice like a poorly played theremin, like a cheesy ghost sound effect, like that piercing whinny from an old tap or a rusted bathroom fan, like Bernadette Peters with a head cold[1]...
[1] Okay, not really. I just liked the way that sounded. Next to Mandy Patinkin in the video of Sunday in the Park With George, I grew to love Bernadette Peters' voice.
I moved today, to my final destination in Sackville. I was sad to leave my interim hostess --we've become friends rather than acquaintances over the past couple of days--but I need to take care of a cat. The "new place" is way the heck out of town; it took me at least half an hour to bicycle back here. On the upside, I'm going to get plenty of exercise now, whether I want it or not. I also have the place to myself (until Imogen arrives, and aside from the cat), so it will be nice not to feel guilty about all the noise of my alarm clocks.
* * *
Though I do have access to internet at "home" (yay!) through an unlimited (yay!) dial-up (boo!) connection, I am at the Conservatory right now. My first piano lesson in two years took place here about four hours ago. It went well. The teacher thinks I am well on my way to being prepared for the Grade 6 exam in August, and she didn't find any huge flaws in my technique. At this point memorization (of both technical stuff and pieces) is looking to be the biggest challenge.
It sounds like it is safe to go back to the practice room and spend some time working on flute. Until about a minute ago, our Department's sole counter-tenor was practicing down the hall. Personality-wise, he is an absolute sweetheart (although very headstrong about the way he wants to sing), but he has a voice like a poorly played theremin, like a cheesy ghost sound effect, like that piercing whinny from an old tap or a rusted bathroom fan, like Bernadette Peters with a head cold[1]...
[1] Okay, not really. I just liked the way that sounded. Next to Mandy Patinkin in the video of Sunday in the Park With George, I grew to love Bernadette Peters' voice.
