turning point, perhaps?

Sometimes in life I think we have the opportunity to recognize and realize a shift in our selves. I am thinking I may have just experienced one, and it is encouraging and refreshing. Days were getting just a tad too stale.

Resolutions:

Read better books

Watch better films

Find better friends

Be better self.

No problem, right? Ah, just ride it out and see where I end up....

advancing

The resume first draft - nearly done. Now for the rounds of critique. Everyone will tear it apart, help me put it back together. I like it the way it is, and I wish I could just hand it over to the job overlord, who would then grant me my destined employment, and I could go on my merry way. Not so. After this I will necessarily suffer much humiliation, rejection, disappointment and so on with the gloom. Hmm. (that was a medium loud sigh)

What else? (Thank you for asking) I am supposed to be preparing auditions, for winning a real job as a violist. So divided am I. But, it is progress, one could say. 

Determined

According to Radio Lab, one is set up for success early on in childhood, and they can measure this at age 4 based on whether or not one is able to forgo immediate gratification for bigger rewards later. I wish I had been given the test and could find out if everything were actually going to turn out ok now. I am rewriting my life. Well, at least my resume. I have to show what my brain is like without the viola. I have to find - (gasp!) - a non-music job. Ouch!

I know I can. I know I can. I know I can. I am, hence, determined. But, in this economy, how? I have a list of crazy ideas. Panhandling, dancing, selling stuff on ebay. All soooo creative. How about just plain old job in an office? You should see me typing this. It won't be the thing they hire me for. Anybody need an office violist?

Now is my moment of the day I set aside for resume refining. And THAT is why I am suddenly long-winded on the abandoned blog.

Phooey.

it was vacation

It has been vacation for a long time now, and I am forgoing the impulse to apologize to the great internet god of discipline about being away from my self-serving duty to "blog" (funny sounding verb, no? blogo, blogas, blogat, blogamus, blogatis, blogunt). (Blogunt? That one is fun!)

In any case, it is today that I am here; let me reflect on today.

Good. All done.

I read a worthy book last year, just week ago, called Eats, Shoots, Leaves. Brilliant! I know that I have reached grammar geek heaven! I have the un/fortunate dis/advantage of having been raised by a grammar perfectionist who would correct library books and magazines routinely. I counldn't continue a story with "wut" in place of "whhhhat" (emphasis on the aspiration), being stopped again and again to correct "to whhhhom" and other such horribly annoying practices for whhhich I am actually quite grateful now, now that I am so wise! Ergo, I was so tickled to find and read - cover to cover - with great relish - a book about the little bits of ink that we put all over our english. We don't agree on some of it, but then again, I am glad that we do not have an academy anglaise (not a sauce!), but it would be nice not to see so much punctuation slaughter!

And now, off - to the ice and snow - calling, outside.