Damn you treadmill! DAMN YOU!

I don't know if it was the massage I had that morning or the fact that juggling everything has left me tired, but I was running like a 90 year old with a broken hip on Saturday. I was doing yoga on Wednesday and the instructor demonstrated a full back bend and I thought, "Hey! I can do that!". Well, when I was 8 years old I could do that. I really could do the backbend, but my back muscles were NOT in the mood and I have never been so tight in my life.

Massages to me are a luxery and I get about 3 a year when I really need it, usually for my ankle. It's weird when you really listen to your body, it speaks loud and clear. Since my life is very different than it has been over the past year, I've been going through an adjustment period.

No longer can I drag myself out of bed at 3:45 am, go to work, run errands and work out and be done by 2 or 3 and nap all I want. I am now a slave to the classroom and those little torture contraptions they make you sit in (I swear they were more tolerable when my ass wasn't as bony). I now wake up with a greater purpose, which is nice, but I'm not sure if I'm getting any more sleep. I kinda shoot out of bed when Ross leaves whether I'm ready or not and am so anxious about sleeping through the day that I can't sleep at all! Who is this girl and what has she done with Jen???

But in my antsiness I was up by 7 am on saturday and Sunday and did a total of about 6 hours of homework. Could I actually graduate from college? It seems such an easy task for everyone else I know to get that stupid little piece of paper, but it has been a struggle for me. In school one semester, a semester "off" to work and catch up on bills and so on and so forth. It was as though I could use any excuse life could offer up to NOT do it. Why?

Beats me.

So it's over. I have no excuses. No shiny new boyfriend, no medical disaster, no creditors (well, there's always those), no "focusing on my health". Just getting on with it.

So today is shaping up nicely. I did weights, core, and yoga this morning. I was hoping to start running outside agian, but snow and cold is YET AGAIN in the forecast. I had an orange the size of my head for breakfast and will have the most delicious romaine and artichoke salad with vinegarette before I head out the door. It's weird. I'm gone from 11-6, but I do not get hungry. My body definitely needs the fuel and by Piano I am ready to pass out, but I have no desire to eat. What's even stranger is the fact that when I get home I am hungry, but not so much that I tear through the kitchen on a bender. I will fix that this week, because I can't go on feeling that crappy. Don't get me wrong, I'm eating enough calories (and certainly make up for it on the weekends if I don't), but I've had a liberal and luxerious schedule eating and convenience-wise so it's just one of those things I have to figure out in time.

Quarter Life Crisis is Officially Over. Resume Normal Activites.

Wow. Time to repent.

I haven't been working out. I mean, I've been running my butt around campus hauling about 40 pounds of crap, but nothing intentional.

But I'm not concerned. For the past couple of weeks I have been juggling ensemble with the record label and my "real job" and school, but I had my last day today. The director of Athletics and Events for the university (which is Div 1) agreed to write me a stunning letter of recommendation and offered to update it as needed and they threw me a nice little party with cake, which I passed up.

Yup, I passed it up. The description from the baker of the cake started out with, "well, it begins with a pound of chocolate..." It just made my stomach turn. Perhaps it was also because people expressing sincerity about me makes me ungodly uncomfortable.

Upon leaving (and no, I wasn't escorted out by security), I didn't know how to feel. I looked at kids on the ice whom I had known since they were born and what life that place is filled with and I felt a bit sad. I was kind of in shock. For 5 years that has been my "place" and my excuse for not finishing semesters and my crutch in general and now I am without it.

When I got home, I didn't know what to do wtih myself, so I did a bunch of homework. I will take it as a good sign- a sign that I have better things to do. And I am better than that. I guess part of me was afraid that I would lose everything I had gained upon walking out the door. I walked in an insecure, overweight, obnoxious and lost 19 year old. In that place I found the woman inside who was always looking for a way out. A hottie emerged. I have 2 long purple scars on my ankle from snapping it on the ice. I have discovered courage. I know I'm not one of those people who would let someone die right before their very eyes without doing something. I lost 90 fucking pounds. I saw children born. And then skate. I have made more friends than I can count and learned that the world is not my enemy.

I met the man I'm going to marry someday. Someday.

I did all of that within those walls. I have made peace and found gratitude for those experiences.

Now, I just wonder where I'm going to take my zamboni ride on my birthday.

So.... School is good. No, it's awesome. The label is running pretty smoothly, though the album title for the new release is horrendous. The last release will be hard to beat. It was a campaign for Colorado music (called "Colorado Cuts") and we snatched up some great names for the project. It was reviewed by the Denver Post which lturned into a piece being done about us by the NY Times and led to us putting on a concert featuring a little known band at the time that was in our class (and I don't mean year, I mean the actual classroom) called The Fray. It was in this tiny auditorium with bad sound and our professor presented them with this UGLY little cake congratualting them for being signed by Epic.

Yeah. That would be tough to beat, I suppose.

The ensemble, which I thought would be the highlight (how in the hell to spell that word?!?!?!) has been a huge drag. It is possibly the nastiest, smelliest, cattiest flute section i've ever dealt with and they showed me their distaste for me the second I walked in the door. I don't know who they think they are fooling. It's a Division II school with an un-noteworthy ensemble and a director that gives repetoire totally out of their reach. But then, who am I fooling? I need the easy A.

The girl that sits next to me is a sight. She is me 5 years ago. Very young. Standoffish. Thinks I'm a total bitch. Overweight. Uncomfortable in her own skin. Plays very immaturely. They all do. I just want to shake them and yell, "What the hell is the matter with your studio teacher!!!"

God, if she only knew. If she didn't play in a marching position with her bell right in my ear (is she doing that on purpose?). I have resorted to bringing an earplug for that side.

So I've rambled on a bit here, but it's been exciting. I get to record music on the same soundboard that recorded the Beatle's "Abbey Road", which to me is the coolest thing ever (Carribou Ranch donated it to the school). My party is coming up and it should be a riot.

I haven't been concerned about weight. I weigh 5 pounds less than I did last year, which means I'm getting a handle on this whole seasonal weight gain. While I haven't had any intentional exercise, my body has adjusted accordingly and I don't experience ravenous hunger and haven't caved to the food on campus. In fact, I've been eating a particularly raw diet and I feel so good. The exercise thing will change tomorrow as I'm off to the base to workout with the new recruit. Boot Camp, here I come!!!

Confidence: RESTORED

Well, the audition went well. Please note the following post will be laden with an extraordinary flex of ego.

I woke up this morning with a sensation I haven't felt in a long time (get your mind out of the gutter!).

My heart was racing.

My lip was twitching.

Audition day!

I had some green juice and toast. Took a shower. Did my make-up (yay!) and headed down.

Confession: I did take my little shooter of whiskey. For those of you that find this a sick practice, wake up. Some of your most revered musicians- classical and otherwise- can't even play unless they are completely stoned. Barry Bonds has nothing on these people. I never got a perscription for barbituates or some other drug because they are addictive. I chose Wild Turkey because A) it's pretty strong and B) It tastes like shit. and C) My grandmother told me to. It doesn't cloud my judgment or my senses (I obviously need those) and it makes my heart stop racing and my lip and hands stop shaking long enough to get through it. I mean, how drunk can you get off of 2 tablespoons of whiskey?

Anyway. When I arrived at the audition site, I noticed a little group of girls. It had to be them. The flutes. The director of course had put us all together so I could hear how it was going inside the room. I'm no Galway, but those girls were making some stupid mistakes. Mistakes that aren't caused by nerves, but makes their professor look really bad.

I had my share of fumbles, but my tone came through just fine. It was drilled in my head during my early days in Aspen that the edge I would have would be NOT sounding like some frou-frou little dainty flute player, but playing with strength and richness. The director took notice. I finished my first passage and he welcomed me to the ensemble and said "you are going to light quite a fire under their asses, that's for sure".

So now that my nerves have settled and my confidence has recieved a very ecessary boost, I'm left a certain "Ohmmmmm". Good stuff.

I have got to figure out my workout situation. This snow isn't going away anytime soon and after next week I won't have my super luxerious athletic facility anymore (or the sorostitutes to go along with it). I now have my own school's facility, but I have to wait for things to calm down after I get everything in order (locker, lightrail pass, schedule, etc...) I feel like a bit of a schlub, but the looming 5k will keep me focused, hopefully. Now if could stop eating everything in sight. I struggle on the mondays before and after TOM with this because I have all of these fresh groceries, my appetite is insatiable and I'm usually just bumming around the house because it's my day off. I need a plan of attack now that I will be around more often. Must keep busy. Must journal if necessary. Must do whatever it takes to GET CONTROL. I'm in a process right now of facing the music and this is a part of it.

Leap, and the net will appear

I believe whole-heartedly in this theory. I have been charmed to have the faith that no matter what happens, it will be alright in the end. If it's not alright, it's not the end.

I quit my job today. The same job I've had for 5 years. It's amicable and they are throwing me a party and now the girl who has been there the longest will be there no more. I'm taking my panties out of a wad and getting on with it. 19-24 are some pretty formative years. I shed that outer skin, learned that I can't always be the hero and nothing ever really goes according to plan and how to butterfly a 6 inch gash and seperate parents spitting on eachother over a bad call and that despite the fact that she's an Olympian and a professional figure skater, Michelle Kwan is a really nice girl.

And what can I say? I love a good hoopla over me.

I will miss it terribly and I can't convince myself otherwise. These people have opened up their lives to me and allowed me be a part of their children's lives. I think I may be doing a lot of babysitting.

And in honor of this decision as well as my 25th birthday I'm throwing one hell of a party. It's called skank n' swank and I'm looking for a big, cheap room to throw it in. I think everyone should be required to throw a bash every 5 years or so just to celebrate the fact that they are still upright.

What??? Do they speak english in What? English, motherfucker.... DO YOU SPEAK IT"

Sorry, Pulp Fiction flashback.


I remember sitting in my advisors office when I was starting school downtown and she said to me, "now, as a former performance major, you probably want to keep up with an ensemble... You know, to keep you straight".

I thought she was joking. Surely, she was joking. You see, my major is a mix of entertainment, copyright, law, publishing , record labels, and LOTS of music classes thrown in. Piece of cake, I thought. In a way it is. In another way, I'm sitting in "advanced" theory classes with people who couldn't count out a 4/4 rhythm to save their lives. They spent hours upon hours in their rooms playing air guitar and learning a few chords, but never bothered to learn the music itself. Never learned to analyze it or to know where it actually comes from. But they are and always willl be the Lords of "Cool".

And we wonder why the industry is in shambles (thank all of those budget cuts in music programs, people).

I never knew how lost and out of place I would feel.

I faced the reality of being a classical major and the grim statistics that would face me upon graduation ( 248 symphony jobs per 11,000 graduates. WTF?). I accepted that I would probably never make enough money to cover the cost of attending a $30,000 music school. I concluded that I love music too much to ever not consider it as a career, but there were many avenues I could take to facilitate my passion as well as my need to eat and be warm. Hell, I even hate performing (I would have to take 2 tables spoons-yes, tablespoons- of wild turkey just to be able to consider wandering onto stage, something I finally got over). So my decision was made and it was pretty easy.

I love the possibilities this degree has brought and will bring me and the subjects are fascinating. I just can't help but be absolutely heartbroken when something that by title represents music, but at times is so far from it.

So, next week, I will wander into a symphony audition. Hopefully, my mad skillz (haha) will cover up the pad job that needs to be done to my Powell. Believe it or not, I have grown to love auditioning. Especially group auditions. They're just so dirty. The put you all in a circle and make you practice in front of one another while you are literally scrutinized in every possible way. One of 2 things happen:

1) You are shitting yourself because you are obviously 10 times worse than anyone else and you now have to play in a small dark room (or better yet, behind a screen with a panel looking down on you).

2) You realize that you have nothing to worry about because you got lucky on a fast passage and you know in five minutes you will be laughing it up in your future professor/director's office.

I've been pretty lucky in this department. I have always walked into an audtion with a natural sense of inferiority, but the outcome always makes my ego obnoxiously huge. A little fear never hurt anyone, right?

So, after my faith and confidence have been shot the past two years by the people who started emo, I'm going to walk into that audition room and get it back. I seriously need the Samual L Jackson confidence in Pulp Fiction, with a wallet that says "BAD MOTHERFUCKER" and all. And then I will get on with my life.