Last Friday we set out for New York. Seven days of auditions, meetings, reunions. We heard a million renditions of Je suis encor and Lenski's aria, heard a great monologue about tuna fish (well, only peripherally about tuna, really.), and passed by Nabucco for fried zucchini and pizza. (Don't judge.) I saw alums from the opera company, favorite students from my first teaching job - one who was newly engaged - and some intrepid souls from undergrad. (I have to say that we all look pretty great...there must be some wrinkly, saggy paintings in all of our attics!)
We got back to DC on Friday in just enough time for Lindsay & Craig's rehearsal dinner. (It was here. I can recommend the food - fantabulous!) After being away for a week, burning the candle at both ends and staying up a wee bit too late with my college buddies, I made it just through the dinner before I was a sloppy pile of Please Take Me Home. My saintly hubby was awesome.
Yesterday was the wedding, and it was a blast. I spent the morning transposing a Tracy Chapman tune into a key that I could maybe sing along with (mama ain't got no consistent low D flats...maybe after a cigar I would!), going over the solo that Lindsay picked (a pretty tune called "Makin plans" by Miranda Lambert) and generally freaking out. It's amazing to me the amount of anxiety I have over singing, when it's always actually pretty easy once I get going...but I've been pretty crazeballs at the prospect of doing this little gig. It's family, after all, and I wanted to do it well. (My apologies to my poor colleagues who had to listen to me whine all week. I'm done, I promise!)
So, we get to the part of the service where I'm supposed to sing...and the monsignor passes right by it and moves to the next part of the service. Um, whaaaaa? So, I'm standing next to the piano, freaking about about singing, and the next thing I know they're blessing the rings, and I'm slinking back to my seat. I look over to Lindsay's mom, who is saying " After this. Just do it. She's gonna be mad if you don't - she really wanted that song." And yours truly is feeling AWKWARD. I mean, do I hijack the wedding?
(For the record? If the mother of the bride tells you to hijack the wedding, you hijack the wedding.)
They finished a prayer section, there was a momentary lull, and I looked at Glen (the fantastic guitarist) and said "Let's go." His eyes got big in disbelief, but he started the tune, bless his heart.
And it went off pretty well. WHEW.
We had picked the recessional at the rehearsal earlier that afternoon (IZ's version of Somewhere Over the Rainbow), and Jeff (violin), Justina (piano) and Glen rocked it out, sight-reading style. Fantastic.
The reception was at the Hay-Adams - GORGEOUS. I met some fantastic people, got to sit next to Liz Crenshaw and her husband (I was on her show a few years ago - it was like old home week!), visited with family and generally had a kick-ass time.
And today? I've found myself ensconced in the most perfect Sunday. Gorgeous weather, no agenda...naps and breakfast burritos and sitting in a pool of sunlight on the porch with the pets as hubs dozes in front of the football game. There's a lawn mower running somewhere nearby, and a neighbor kid is learning how to rollerblade on the side street. It's one of those days that, if I could, I'd put into a life-size snow globe and step back into it when I was grumpy or lonely or just plain out-of-sorts.
Hoping your day is filled with sunshine and unstructured time.
- beautiful fall days
- reconnecting with family and friends
- singing well enough to make people cry (YES!)
- hanging with my little family