�Tuesday afternoon is never ending�
6:39 a.m.
Yesterday started with a wonderful Latin class. Sure enough, there were chocolatines, croissants (courtesy of one of our classmates), strawberries with yogurt and juice (courtesy of Patsy), and coffee (courtesy of food services). In anticipation I had not eaten breakfast, and it was just perfect. We read our poetic translations, first the Latin original, then the English (or French, or in one case, Yugoslavian) to the rest of the class. There were some very fine versions. I handed in as much of our wombat story as we had completed and all my verb synopses, and it�s over. No more Latin unless I take it next fall.
Lunch was a veggie and cheese wrap in the cafeteria, where I was joined at my table by a group of students whom I invited to the composers concert that evening. Two of them actually came! Walking from the student union building to the music department I met my baritone coming the other way, both of us with arms out, hands facing heavenward, quizzical looks on our faces, asking the gods, �What is this?� as white shit sifted down on us. Luckily it didn�t last long. Oobleck I think I could have handled, snow not.
Then I taught a last lesson and another lesson to my deferred student, hung around and sat in on the rehearsal with her accompanist of the one I am considering failing (I can�t believe how little regard this girl has for the fact that she is wasting our time. She came to the rehearsal totally cold, hadn�t sung a note beforehand, still making rhythm mistakes in her music, and when I looked at her score while writing in 123-4-56 over a dotted quarter-eighth-quarter-note rhythm in 6/8 time, there was not a single marking on her page. What the fuck am I talking to her for during lessons if she doesn�t make note of any of it?), then found Hubby where he was setting up for the composers concert and took him home for supper, which was leftover salmon pie and cooked frozen corn. Buddy Boy is off on a field trip to Ottawa and returns this afternoon, which turns out to be a logistical nightmare as well, but surely you�ll hear more about that later.
When we got to the university for the concert (quite early, I might add), I decided to check in to see if my buddy list was lit up, and lo, there I saw bindyree�s name and was reminded that I hadn�t set up the tape to record her show. So I rushed home, programmed the VCR, and returned with 10 minutes to spare. Phew! The concert was quite long, there being about an hour�s worth of music in both halves, Hubby having interspersed recorded electronic pieces with performed acoustic compositions. Surprisingly, there were no stinkers (except possibly for one guy�s MAX piece called Beats & Bytes consisting completely of techno-sounding guitar and percussion music) and some actual winners. Very impressive.
Afterwards we went out to the Li0n where I downed a couple of Li0n�s Pride and had a fun time at the end of the table where my husband was not, basking in the attention of good-looking men less than half my age. Ah, some things never change. We got home quite late and I wanted to update then, but Hubby convinced me I should go to bed immediately, even though it always takes me a while to fall asleep. My feet were like ice, so I warmed them between his legs until he realized that his thighs had become cold.
Now I have to get to work cleaning and preparing the house for guests (party tonight after the chamber orchestra concert plus the violist is staying with us again) and teach the last of my students before their juries tomorrow. If I take deep breaths, I will get through this without going crazy. I�m hoping that works, anyway.
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