I'm BAAAACK!

I'm hoping that it's been long enough that the busy-bodies who invaded my space have gone away. If not... maybe I'll write about them! LOL

I decided that it was just too much of a hassle to try to add everyone who wanted to read my blog (why anyone would really want to is beyond me! LOL), so I'm making it public again.

I'm in the midst of a number of crises in my life. First, my "housing agent" - the one with whom I share office space - has just informed me that he wants me to move out of the office I just moved IN to and instead move into a 7 x 9 space with no door, situated right behind the reception area. Now, I moved out of a perfectly good office across town to THIS office because it was nicer and in a more up-scale neighborhood. Keep in mind, also, that what I do has a major level of confidentiality associated with it -- people share private health information and confidential financial information. To transact this type of business in an open-air office space is unthinkable.

What compounds the situation, is that we are smack-dab in the middle of fourth quarter, when sales goals are uppermost in everyone's minds and I run like a chicken with my head cut off to get each of my SIX partner agents to their numbers for the year. I don't have time for this crap! What's WORSE is that he tried to blame his staff for necessitating the move. He told me that there was "a great deal of animosity among the staff" about me being located in the back office and that I'm not "adding any value" to the office by being here. I went to the staff to apologize to them for not "being there for them" and they looked at me like I had two heads. They all told me that they weren't the least bit upset and that they couldn't care less which office I sat in. I cannot ABIDE liars -- especially those who lie for NO GOOD REASON!!!! Turns out that he and his wife want to empty out their offsite storgage unit and put all of the files in the space I'm currently occupying. If we weren't in the middle of fourth quarter, I would pack my bags and move the hell out of here. I don't want to work with assholes! As it stands, I'm trying to carefully balance things here until January 1 -- when I hope to have other accommodations lined up.

On the homefront, Ali is freaking out over the renovation which is a simple FROG project (finished room over garage for those who aren't familiar with the term). I was in an all-day meeting yesterday and when I took the first break at around noon, I had six messages on my cell phone. One from a customer, one from an agent, three from Ali and one from my contractor.

Listening to the first message from Ali, one would have thought that they had blown off the end of the house and that the walls were falling in. Turns out, that they weren't able to do the stairs just as we had wanted due to insufficient head room... so they took up more space than we had originally thought. This is something about which our contractor had warned us and he had even shared with us his plans for an alternate placement in the event his suspicion was correct. Still, my contractor was upset that Ali had cussed out his workers and Ali was upset because the workers wouldn't listen to him.

Ali went on and on about how there were cigarette butts all over the place and that they left the windows open when they went to lunch, etc, etc. I was expecting a war-zone when I finally got home at nearly 9pm last night. Instead, I found a very nicely framed stairwell, a floor that was swept clean and two stray cigarette butts outside the garage door. I had to apologize to the workers this morning and then 'discourage' Ali from visiting the worksite on a daily basis. It turns out that I went to school with the carpenter -- I've known him for over 20 years. He told me this morning that Ali acted like a child yesterday -- ranting and raving and then squealing tires down the street and around the corner. David asked if he always behaved in such an immature manner. It's kind of embarrassing to hear a friend talk about your husband that way. I'm starting to hear the words of my psychic ringing in my ears, "if you DO decide to move back in together, you'll have a fight before it even happens." Oy ve. Will I EVER learn?

I've taken a sabbatical from choir for the remainder of the year. I don't know if I'll go back or not. I DID get a spot in the local symphony chorus for their annual concert. That starts after the first of the year. I'm looking forward to it.

Well, my lunch half-hour is over. I really must get back to work.

Welcome back everyone. I promise to try to update more often.

Sometimes I Wonder

I wonder if circumstances are trying to communicate something important to me, or if they're just circumstances.

I wonder if the reason things aren't falling into place is because they're not meant to -- or if it's just a bad streak of luck.

I wonder if the headaches and upset stomach are my body's way of warning me that all is not well, or if I'm just sick because I have a bug.

I wonder... then I remember the message that came through loud and clear as I agonized over this decision in the first place... "just love him."

Hmmm... I wonder.

ANNOYED!

So, here it is 6:14 pm and my 6 o'clock appointment has yet to show up... neither has he called to say he's running late... nor did he pick up his frickin' phone when I called HIM! I hope that he's well and safe -- truly I do. But if he's not smeared on the side of the road somewhere, I'd like to beat him upside the head with a heavy metal object.

HOW RUDE! Don't people realize that my time is in high demand? Don't they realize that I could have scheduled several other people in the time slot they so flippantly vacated without so much as a courtesy call. Don't they realize that if I'm not meeting with people and writing business then my bills don't get paid? Don't they realize, or do they just not care?

GRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!

Busy bee...

Sorry to keep my faithful few in the dark. I've been up to my eyeballs at work and in my personal life... both with a small medical fright and with a renovation project for the house designed to make "A"'s reintegration more comfortable.

I haven't even touched the new piano in weeks... nor have I prepared for my symphony chorus audition which is next weekend. CRAP! Where does the time go?!?

My New Toy

This is my 1927 A-III Steinway Heirloom Grand piano.

I'm in heaven...

Farewell

To My Loyal Few:

Thank you so much for all of your support these past several years. Due to an error on my part, this blog showed up in some search engines under my real name and, therefore, some people from my "real" life happened upon it. I will be taking it down tonight, as it was never my intention for it to be accessible in this manner. It's been my haven -- my safe space -- to write whatever I was feeling or thinking, regardless of how ugly it may have sounded. This freedom to share my thoughts without fear of reprisal has now been violated and this space can no longer be what it was intended to be.

Who knows, I may pop up somewhere else on Blogger - only time will tell -- but for now, I bid you all adieu!

The Sleep-over

Call me a glutton for punishment. Call me an idiot. Call me wishy-washy or even down-right insane. All of these would probably be true today. "A" invited me to dinner last night -- so I went. The food was great, the company was pleasant and the evening reminded me of some of our better days together when we were living in Austin.

As the evening drew to a close, he kind of invited himself to stay the night. Although there was no sex (Ron), we did sleep together. My thinking was that he would be as miserable as I was and thus see the sense in us continuing to maintain our separate homes. The night WAS miserable, but this morning he was ready to start looking for a home together. I finally had to tell him that I'm NOT on board with that idea. I felt so trapped last night... uncomfortable... my space invaded and my lovely, quiet existence disturbed. He's pushing me and I don't like it. I know that I need to make a stand once and for all. I can't let things keep dragging on like this.

The thing is, I know that he loves me -- if he didn't there's no way he would put up with the emotional roller coaster I've had him on this past year -- but I know too that the moment he's won me over, he'll turn right back into the man I cannot stand to be with.

Go ahead, "idiot, glutton for punishment, wishy-washy, insane!" It's nothing I haven't said to myself at least a hundred times already this morning.

Reality Check

My manager says I'm not looking at things the right way, so I thought I would pose this question to my loyal readers (the four of you ARE still out there, right?) ;-)

What premium are you willing to pay for a product in order to buy it from a company you like or a person you like?

Let's say you could get product X for $1,000 from Company A, which is a very reputable company but you don't have a personal relationship with anyone working there.

Let's also say that you could get product X for between $1,100 to $1,500 from Companies B, C, D or E, but they're companies you've never heard of.

Or, you could get product X for $1,600 from a charming sales person who works for one of the old bulwark companies that's been around forever, hence I'll call it Company F.

There is no difference in the product, save the company name printed on it.

Which product would you buy? Even if you LOVED the sales person and were a die-hard fan of Company F?

On Returning Home

Our return flight to the States was long and exhausting. We arrived in Norfolk at 10:50 and after collecting luggage and driving home, ended the trip officially at about 11:30 pm - nearly 24 hours after starting the day in Berlin.

I found the return to be difficult. My body did not want to adjust to the time and my mind did not want to return to the mundane after such mountaintop experiences in Europe. I found that I was faced with a number of decisions:

• How to tell "A" that it's time for us to put an end to things once and for all (something at which I completely suck because I'm a COWARD!)
• What to do about my job situation (the company has implemented a number of changes that have complicated my job 200 fold.)
• What do do about my LIFE!

This trip left me feeling as if my life has amounted to squat thus far and that I want to make a significant change. I don't know what that change might be, as I'm really not suited for much besides marketing, sales and singing. At first, I thought about going back to school... or doing an immersion course in a second language... or selling everything I own and backpacking across Europe... but I couldn't identify any real plan or defined course of action... I just knew that THIS isn't it. My mom asked me what I would be if I could be anything in the world -- and it took me back to the origins of this blog... a 40's torch singer. Not much call for those these days... but I meant it!

Funny, for all of my angst about my future, the world did not stop turning and my bills did not cease to be due so, for now, I've resigned myself to just work hard and hopefully save enough money to travel the world. For now, I have to get back to my life, such as it is, and make a go of it.

Day Nine: Finale

After a whirlwind run by the Reichstag and the Brandenburg Gate last night, we checked in to the Park Inn Alexanderplatz for our final two nights of the trip. It was a very modern high-rise hotel and upon entering the room, I was struck by the configuration: there was a glass shower immediately in front of the door, a water closet off to the left behind a mirrored door, to the right - a sink and vanity, and then a small twin bed against the wall, flanked by a small desk. The room reminded me a bit of a train berth, as the whole room was about the size of a postage stamp! It was fine for me because I paid for a room alone -- but I wondered about my fellow choir members who were sharing rooms -- especially with that glass shower!

We had the morning off and then were scheduled to visit the Pergamon Museum, where we would have approximately one hour to tour. Our director and our two members missing passports were sent off to the US Consulate to get replacements and our two organists would be taking a taxi to the Kaiser-Wilhelm-Gedachtniskirche, where we would perform our final concert this evening.

We were to meet two local tour guides, who were to lead us through the museum - but they were nowhere in sight. After a few phone calls, it was determined that we should have picked them up by bus along the way. Nearly 30 minutes later, a guide shows up -- but he is forbidden to give a tour inside the Pergamon -- he is, instead, a guide for the Germany museum of history. So, with 30 minutes remaining before we have to board the buses for our final rehearsal, we grab our audio guides and sprint through the museum. The Department of Greek and Roman Antiquities was truly amazing and the Pergamon Altar (180 - 160 BC) was colossal! I made a side trip into the Islamic Art wing and found myself completely lost in the maze of silk carpets, mosaics and reconstructed buildings. I was one of the last to return to the bus and could have spent a whole day browsing in this wonderful museum.

The Kaiser-Wilhelm-Gedachtniskirche was built along side the original 1895 church, which was a memorial to Kaiser Wilhelm I. In 1945 the building was virtually destroyed by Allied bombs and the ruins were left as a reminder of the era's suffering and devastation. In 1961, directly at the base of the ruined building, a small-scale, modern church was erected. The octagonal hall is lit solely by thousands of colored glass windows set into a honeycomb framework.

I found the building to be depressing and very Gothic. The space seemed to swallow up sound as soon as it left its source -- both the organ and our voices seemed dull and muted. We had a very short window in which to complete an Andacht service and then a short concert before the church closed at 7pm. We all felt this was our poorest performance yet and I felt a bit odd singing Ein Feste Burg ist unser Gott (A Mighty Fortress is Our God) in a Catholic church - as this was the battle cry of the Reformation.

I think we were all relieved to be done with the concert and, as we left and headed to our last dinner at the Brauhaus Mitte, an air of sadness seemed to descend that our adventure was nearly over.

We ate our chicken and mixed vegetables gleefully and ordered halbes of the local brew. Finally, the recognition began and we gave our tour guides and drivers commemorative t-shirts. We even performed the song below for our dear Peter -- much to the delight of the other patrons at the restaurant. As we settled down, a young man came over to Billye and asked if we could sing something for his friend - as they were there for a bit of a bachelor party. We put our heads together and decided to sing, "I'm Getting Married in the Morning" We did our best broadway and the poor chap sat there staring at us blankly . It turns out that he spoke NO ENGLISH WHATSOEVER! It was great fun, though!

As we left the restaurant, word started to spread that a small group would be visiting the oldest pub in Berlin, guided by our dear Iain. We met in the hotel lobby and set off on foot (of course) for this secret location. On the way, Iain started to have second thoughts, I believe, as we were a lively band! (Iain is a confirmed bachelor and lives alone in a small village in France.)

We arrived to an empty pub and immediately changed the place for all eternity. We laughed and joked and watched Peter and Iain spar (the Scotsman and the Englishman). As we passed the midnight hour, we decided we should probably head back to the hotel, as we had to be at the airport by 8 am. Iain was kind enough to offer me his arm for the treacherous walk down cobblestone streets (and me in heels) and we decided to have just one more beer before turning in for the night. The two of us sat together in the hotel bar and talked for hours... and the last night of the trip soon became the most memorable. (Edited to add: but not for the reasons you may be thinking. Iain is literally old enough to be my father. He's a no-nonsense kind of guy who helped me to see that life's too short to run around with regrets, doubts and insecurities. I owe him a great debt for that.)

SIDEBAR: My Life as a Lyricist

As the trip progressed, we began singing silly words to the tunes of some of the songs from our repertoire. Finally, my true genius could shine -- for funny lyrics are my forte'. Following is an example, based on the Sacred Harp tune, "O, When Shall I See Jesus"

O, when shall I see Leipzig
In rain from up on high
And shall hear the voice of Peter in that morning.

And there's a flowing fountain
But the bus cannot draw nigh
And shall hear the voice of Peter in that morning.

REFRAIN:
Oh shout, "hurry"
Thou shalt mount upon the bus
And shall hear the voice of Peter in that morning.

Gird on the raincoat brother
And be prepared to run
And you'll hear the voice of Peter in that morning.

For the bus cannot go hither
To food or rest or fun
And you'll hear the voice of Peter in that morning.

(REFRAIN)

Our ears shall hear with gladness
That bathrooms are ahead
And shall hear the voice of Peter in that morning.

Our tongues shall speak the glories
Of dumplings ne'er again
And shall hear the voice of Peter in that morning.

(REFRAIN)

END

(c) Oh to be a 40's Torch Singer.
All rights reserved.

We sang this for Peter on the final evening. I think Iain's feelings might have been a bit injured...

There are other pieces on which I'm working for our "after party."

Titles include:

"Oh, Crap, I Accident'ly Turned Off the Organ"
"Deep Sleep (on a Plane or Bus to You)"
"You Be Naughty"
"When Will I Be Sightseeing?"

Maybe there's a future in the arts for me after all!

Day Eight: Leipzig

Our day began with a bus trip to Leipzig, where we visited Thomaskirche. This is the church where JS Bach was cantor for 27 years and where his remains rest today. Again, not quite "getting" us as a group, our head tour guide (Iain) allowed seven minutes for us to visit this church - not realizing how profound it is for a musician to stand before the resting place of such a great! As we stood there quietly, reverently, Billye began to sing ever so softly the Komm in mein Herzenshaus... there was not a dry eye to be found.

We had a few quick moments to spend at the Bach Museum and then it was back on the bus to head for Wittenberg. Thankfully, our dear Peter insisted that we be allowed to spend some time in Lutherstadt Wittenberg -- the capital of the Reformation. We saw Schosskirche, where Luther posted his 95 Theses, Marienkirche, where Luther preached and Lutherhalle, a museum dedicated to Luther and artist Luther Cranach.

We were then back on the bus and headed for Berlin, where our tour would end. To add yet another adventure to our journey, one of our travelers found that he was completely unable to keep up with the tour group and so had to have special arrangements made for all travel by foot. On this evening, he was put in a taxi and sent to the restaurant where we were all to meet in an hour's time. It was about a seven minute walk from where the buses were parked. Everyone took the hour to check out the church where our final concert would occur the following evening and to do a little window shopping. When we arrived at the restaurant, Ron was not there. Unfortunately, no one had gotten the name of the cab company, nor the cab number and, as far as we were aware, Ron did not have the name and address of the hotel with him. Thankfully, he DID speak fluent German -- but everyone was still quite concerned.

The tour guides and bus drivers went into action and finally, the police were called in. As we were about to finish dinner, we received word that Ron was fine. He'd been at the hotel all along and the hotel had called the tour company and they had tracked us down at the restaurant. Even though Ron spoke perfect German, his taxi driver did not! He was Turkish! We later found out that the restaurant had recently moved and Ron was taken to the old location and let out -- alone! Bless his heart, he was a good sport about it all. Thank God he was okay!

Oh, did I mention that dinner was sausage and sauerkraut? At least there were no freakin' dumplings!

Day Seven: Off to Dresden

Dresden -- a city decimated by the Allied bombings of World War II, has fortunately been restored to much of its former glory. In particular, the reconstruction of Frauenkirche (Church of Our Lady) has had a tremendous impact on healing old wounds.

I spent the day with my parents, walking the city and seeing the sights. Then we had a guided tour of Frauenkirche and various other buildings of historical significance. We ended the day with a visit to the Zwinger, where we saw Raphael's Sistine Madonna.

We finished the evening with dinner at Sophienkeller, where we were served more dumplings and sauerkraut! I left the majority of my dinner on my plate, as this was the third time in as many days that we'd been served the same fare. Between dinner and dessert, we were entertained by a magician, who moved from table to table. In an effort to see what he was doing, one of my fellow sopranos leaned across her table... near the candle... catching her hair on fire! I only noticed when one of her dinner companions jumped up and started hitting her in the head with his napkin. She was fine -- just some singed hair and a bruised ego -- but the stench of burned hair permeated the room for the remainder of the evening. Never a dull moment with this group!

Then, we were off to the hotel. Peter asked us who had not eaten their dumplings and the entire bus raised their hands! He surmised that the leftover dumplings had been smashed flat, dredged in powdered sugar and served again as dessert! The bus was soon rocking with the chant: "No more dumplings, no more dumplings!" We then got a complete stand-up comedy routine from Peter -- who had apparently had several halbes of Pills with his dinner! (Those are half-liter Pilsners, for those who require translation.)

We drove and drove and drove and drove and were beginning to wonder where the heck this place was! When at last we arrived at this less-than-attractive facility (which looked a bit like a cheesy motel), we were instructed to stay on the bus and that the staff would board the bus to give us our keys. The young man informed us that they had two pay channels that were FREE - but that one "must like titties". (Did he not KNOW that this was a church group?) Turns out they were porn channels. He also asked that we refrain from coming to breakfast all at once, as they would not be able to accommodate all of us. Fortunately, the rooms were very nice and there was a cute little pub attached where several of us enjoyed a good local beer with our tour guides.

In the morning, we tried to stagger our arrival at breakfast and much to our delight enjoyed the best buffet yet -- including caviar and smoked salmon! Looks can be deceiving. I would never have thought that this would be one of the most enjoyable stays yet (and NOT because of the porn channels, Ron!)

Day Six: If it's Tuesday it must be Weimar

There was an aggressive sight-seeing agenda planned for the day. We were given the option the night night before to go or to stay. The day trip was made to sound like a harrowing foray into the unknown and given the previous day's events and the fact that we had a full concert that evening, I opted out. I missed a trip to Wartburg Castle, Lutherstube (where Martin Luther translated the Bible into German), the Bach family home and historic St. George's Church. Everyone who went thoroughly enjoyed the trip, but I rather enjoyed the down time.

Sometimes, too much togetherness makes me cranky and I was feeling the need for space. I am definitely not a herd animal! The need for down time was punctuated by a splitting headache and an upset stomach, so I caught up on my journal entries and rested. It was a cold and rainy day -- just perfect for lounging about doing nothing. I sauntered down to the hotel restaurant for lunch and tried out a few phrases of German with my waitress. She smiled enthusiastically... but her English was far superior to my German!

Our concert at St. Marien Church in Bad Berka (click on "Geschichte" to see pictures) received a hearty standing ovation. The church was beautiful and the organ was designed and installed by Bach. With a full and swell and dozens of stops that had to be pulled, we saw a literal example of "pulling out all the stops" at the conclusion of the postlude. The sound was amazing.

Speaking of amazing, during "Amazing Grace," one member of our audience was moved to tears. Music truly is the universal language.

To add to our list of adventures, two members of our choir got locked in the church after the concert. We were all scheduled to change clothes in an outbuilding, but due to lack of space, Larry and Jeff decided to change in the church. Not realizing there was anyone inside, the Sexton locked them in. Thankfully, someone heard them shrieking like girls and banging on the doors and brought help.

Speaking of girls... we had three teenage girls on the trip as well. As we rode up to our rooms in the elevator that night, the grandmother of two of the girls shared a story about her youngest granddaughter. It seems that she had visited the hotel's pool, where she encountered several naked men. She told her grandmother about this and her grandmother, appalled, asked if she left immediately, to which Katherine replied, "No, Nana, it was okay. They had their legs crossed."

Priceless.

Day Five, continued: Man's Inhumanity to Man

We arrived at the camp and traveled down "Blood Road", which was a cobblestone roadway built by the prisoners. The sky was gray and there was a heaviness about the place, despite its location in a beautiful wood.

We watched a brief film about the camp and then set out on a walking tour. As I walked those streets and gazed at the ruins of the barracks, I couldn't help but wonder about the feet that walked them some sixty years ago. In places, stones had been left on the markers identifying the various blocks... Bulgarians, Jehovah's Witnesses, Jews, Senti and Roma... Women and children, homosexuals, deserters and conscientious objectors. Leaving stones at a burial site is a Jewish sign of remembrance. I placed several myself on the markers where there were none... someone MUST remember.

As we left the camp, we gathered around the Russian memorial to the survivors and victims. There, we listened to the Mourner's Kaddish and recited the 23rd Psalm. Our director and her husband then sang Adonai R'oi. It was a profound moment in a gorgeous setting overlooking the town of Weimar. How could such horror happen in the midst of such beauty?

Our evening continued with our visit to St. Stephan's Church (Buchenwald Memorial Church) where we were met by Father Muller and several of his parishioners -- none of whom spoke a word of English! They served us Thuringien sausages in the pouring rain and seemed delighted to see us.

After dinner, Father Muller explained the significance of the artwork on the church's altar. It was a free-form metal piece that was reminiscent of barbed wire. It was in three colors: black, gold and red. He explained that the Gold signified God, the Black, evil, and the red striving against evil and the blood that was shed at Buchenwald. The cross in the center had a crown of thorns that has been transformed by the risen Christ into rays of light.

We held a church service together and shared communion. It was a very special service, although few from the area attended.

We ended our evening with dinner at a local Rathskeller in the town center and finally arrived back at our hotel well after 11pm. It was an exhausting day -- both physically and emotionally -- but an experience I would not trade for anything.

Day Five: Prelude

Day Five began on a light note, as our dear Peter (affectionately referred to with our faux British accents as "Pee-tah") described our day thus:

"We are going to Buchenwald and meeting a person whom I do not know, paying them an unknown sum of money and getting some PDA devices. I don't know what they are or if we'll even need them. Unfortunately, the museum is closed today, but we might walk about the grounds, unless the gate is locked, in which case our entire trip will be for naught." I swear it was like having John Cleese narrating our trip!

He went on to tell us about his most memorable trip. He was studying in London and his professor took the entire class to see a production of Faust just outside of town. No one was particularly interested in attending - as the play is notoriously boring - but much to the students' delight and the professor's dismay, the entire cast was NUDE!

Day Four: Face to Face with God

Our morning began with our director's son announcing that he'd left his passport at the church the night before. Frantic phone calls were made, as we would need to cross the border into the Czech Republic that evening... but it wasn't looking promising. You'll recall that we had another member of our merry band without a passport as well. If they were not admitted to the Czech Republic, they would have to go on by another means to our next location -- Weimar.

With that cloud hanging over our heads we set off for Passau, whose long history goes back to Roman times. The city lies on a peninsula between the rivers Danube and Inn, near the Austrian border. Peter gave us a run down of our day, which included all of the things we couldn't do: we can't start our walking tour at the tower, because the bus can't get there and it's a long, long walk. There are services today, so we probably won't be able to see the cathedral and certainly all of the shops will be closed. It became comical. We dubbed our trip, "A Bridge to Nowhere" (in reality, it was called "A Bridge Across the Water").

Despite the low expectations set for us by dear Peter, we arrived at St. Stephan, the site of (purportedly) the largest pipe organ in the world, right at the end of Sunday Mass. We stood quietly in the back -- taking in the stunning sights -- until the service had ended, and as the postlude began, we moved down the aisle and turned to behold the most magnificent instrument I've ever seen. As the music began to swell, it sounded as if one was desperately pleading with God for mercy and I was moved to tears. To say that it was glorious is insufficient -- in fact, there are no words adequate to describe this experience.

As I stood there in awe, I noticed a little boy in a stroller, who was perfectly positioned to view the magnificent paintings on the ceiling. Just then, a broad smile broke across his face, his blue eyes danced and he reached up his little hands to the sky, as if to say, "pick me up, pick me up!" The painting above us was of an angel with outstretched arms.

As we left the church, our organists and director garnered an invitation to see the organ. They came back glowing and I doubt that their feet touched the ground the rest of the day! Come to find out, the organist who transported us all to heaven with his playing was a 22 year old substitute who was improvising based on a simple hymn tune. Astounding.

I spent the remainder of the day with our church organist and her husband, taking the walking tour that was supposedly impossible and enjoying every moment of it. We stopped for lunch outside the City Hall in an outdoor cafe for a delicious German meal of sausages, kraut and potato salad. It was a perfect day!

That is, until we got back on the bus to head for the Czech Republic. There had been no word on the passport that was left behind and we still had yet another member who would have to visit the Consulate in Berlin to have his replaced. We did what everyone does in times of trouble -- we prayed. We prayed for favor. We prayed that they would wave us through... and as we approached this foreboding structure on the Czech border, our prayers were answered.

Our elation at our easy entry to the Czech Republic was soon replaced with an uneasiness. The landscape had changed significantly... there were abandoned buildings and graffiti everywhere and as we drove toward our hotel, we all wondered what we might find there.

We now pause to bring you this word from our sponsor

Sorry to interrupt the trip log. I just have to say that I am in a blue funk since returning to the States. More than ever before, I loathe my job, am bored with my surroundings and long for something more... something different... something exciting. Mid-life crisis at 42?

I just want to pull the covers over my head and disappear... or better yet, sell everything I own and run off to Europe (DAMN, I sound JUST like my Ex!).

Day Three: Salzburg

Our second day in Salzburg began with a wonderful breakfast at the hotel consisting of fresh fruits and vegetables, bread and cheese, yoghurt and boiled eggs. It reminded me a great deal of breakfast in Turkey, only missing the feta cheese and olives.

Our tour included a visit to the Residenz, Salzburg's palace, which was the seat of the Salzburg prince-archbishops. I saw the rooms where Mozart played as a child. We also visited Mozart's House, where I bought my first tacky tourist item: a Mozart t-shirt. We then took a walking tour of the city center, including the open-air market, where we ate lunch and chatted with our fellow travelers. Unfortunately, one member of our group was the victim of a pick-pocket and lost all money, credit cards and her husband's passport in the process.

At four that afternoon, we arrived at Stadtpfarrkirche Saint Nicolas in Bad Ischl for rehearsal. The church is beautiful! Of special note is the organ: it is called “Organ of the Emperor´s Jubilee” as was donated to the church in 1910 by the Emperor Franz Joseph I for his 80th anniversary. The organ was redone by Rieger again in 1993. It has 3 manuals, 59 registers and pedals and 3.789 pipes. Our tour organist had to send in credentials and letters of recommendation in order to be allowed to play it!

We were scheduled to perform four selections during the evening Mass and then do a concert following the service; although, upon arrival, we still did not know which selections the priest had chosen for the service.

After rehearsal, we jogged down the street to Cafe' Sissy where we nearly inhaled our Wiener Schnitzel in order to be back at the church to change into our concert attire (in a glass-walled room) for the evening's services. In the midst of this chaos, our director's husband (Rusty) realized that he'd left his tuxedo pants at the hotel. Thankfully, another choir member had been wearing black pants that day - so Rusty ended up wearing a tuxedo on top, and black jeans on the bottom!

With three minutes remaining before the evening Mass began, Billye (our director) ran into the room where we were waiting and hurriedly gave us the order of service before herding us out the door and to the organ balcony (which was up a narrow spiral staircase). The service went off without a hitch and the concert received a standing ovation.

I think that our tour guides were quite taken aback. After suffering through the whining about all of the walking and myriad complaints from our older choir members, they were pleasantly surprised to learn that we could really sing!

Upon our return to the hotel, a group of us met in the lobby bar for a few cocktails before heading off to bed. All-in-all, it was a magnificent day!

All Roads Lead to Ausfahrt

Spending hours on a bus will turn the most civilized person into a silly sot. I noticed a plethora of signs that said "Ausfahrt" and when others noticed them as well, I quipped, "it appears that all roads lead to Ausfahrt." It was quickly adopted as a catch phrase during times when we were obviously not heading in the right direction. However, I must give credit where credit is due: our bus driver, Tom, could get that bus into and out of places I never thought a bus could go! We later learned that Ausfahrt means "Exit."

The Grand Adventure

I've just returned from a 10-day trip to Europe. I kept a journal, so I'll begin with our departure and work my way through the trip day by day.

Day One: Thursday, June 21st

We met at the airport at 8am for a noon flight to Atlanta and then on to Munich. It was a fairly uneventful domestic flight -- but as we boarded the plane, our director's husband (our tenor section leader) found that he had forgotten his music. Frantically, he called his daughter and asked her to FedEx it to him. Once on the ground in Atlanta, he called her back and learned that it would cost $90 to send the music and that there was no guarantee it would reach us in time for the first concert in Salzburg. I suppose it's a good thing that our flight out of Atlanta was delayed, because it gave our director an opportunity to have all of the scores copied for her adoring ADD hubby.

Upon arrival in Munich, we were greeted by our tour guides, Iain and Peter. I was assigned to the "B" bus with Peter at the helm. Our contingent consisted mostly singers and their spouses, our director, her husband and son. Much to our amazement and chagrin, we were immediately whisked away for a day of sightseeing -- even though it was 2am our time. We headed for Salzburg, where we visited Herrenchiemsee Castle. The castle is on an island and is accessible only by ferry. It was a perfect day, the grounds were beautiful and we thoroughly enjoyed our visit. As we were awaiting a return ferry, suddenly the skies turned dark, the wind whipped up and the sky opened. We ran for a covered walkway and stared in amazement as hail the size of jaw-breakers fell from the sky and covered the landscape. Several in our group were caught out in this meteorological anomaly and we all arrived at the ferry drenched to the skin. From there, we boarded the buses and went off to the Hotel Mercure, Salzburg.

After a quick change of clothes, we headed off to dinner. On the way there, Peter informed us that there would be a bit of a walk, as the bus couldn't get to the restaurant directly. (This, we were soon to learn, would be a recurring theme). We set off on foot, on cobblestone streets, after being up for over 24 hours and we walked... and we walked... and we walked... finally arriving at the restaurant well after the "A" bus! Seems there was a shorter route than the one we took -- however, we were fortunate to see a wonderful cemetery after which the cemetery in Sound of Music was fashioned. Later, our guide admitted that he'd been lost!

The restaurant, Stiftskeller St. Peter, was lovely. Our waiter was fabulous, as was the meal and company. My parents and I shared the evening meal with a lovely couple -- a retired Air Force musician and his wife, who is an artist and jewelry designer. Upon our return to the hotel, we all fell into bed, exhausted! Did you know that hotels in Europe generally aren't air conditioned? I didn't!

(Stay tuned for the next installment: Salzburg, Day 2)

Wheels Up!

After 18 months of planning, the big day has finally arrived. Tomorrow morning I head to the airport at 7:30am for our church choir's singing mission trip to Germany, Austria and the Czech Republic.

We will arrive in Munich at 7:50 am Friday morning (their time) and return from Berlin on June 30th. From Munich, we take our "luxury" tour bus to Salzburg Austria where we will visit Herrenchiemsee Castle, the Residenz (where the child prodigy Mozart often played), and Salzburg Cathedral, world renowned for its 4,000 pipe organ. We will also visit Mozart's House.

We go on from there to visit Passau and Karlovy Vary (which is in the Czech Republic and known for its glasswares and garnets!) I also understand there are some magnificent spas there, but I doubt we'll have time to indulge.

From there, we make a solemn visit to Buchenwald -- the site of a WWII concentration camp. We will be singing our second concert at a church which overlooks the site. Wow.

We go from there to Weimar, Eisenach and Erfurt where we will visit the places where Martin Luther translated the Bible into German, the historic St. George's church and St. Mary's Cathedral where Luther was ordained.

Then, it's off to Dresden, then Leipzig, Wittenberg and finally Berlin where we will do our final concert. There are four concerts in all.

Our repertoire includes:

• O, When Shall I See Jesus? - The Sacred Harp, 1844
• Come Thou Fount from An American Triptych - Setting by Leo Nestor
• Amazing Grace (acapella, with flute interludes) - Arranged by Richard Proulx
• Alleluia from Cantata No. 142 - J.S. Bach, arr. Walter Ehret
• Alleluia - Ed Harris
• Alleluia from Place of the Blest - Randall Thompson
• Komm in mein Herzenshaus, from Kantate No. 80, Ein Feste Burg Ist unser Gott - Johann Sebastian Bach
• Ein' feste Burg ist unser Gott (A Mighty Fortress is Our God) - Arr Hal H. Hopson
• Jubilate - Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
• Laudate Dominum from Vesperae solennes de confessore (K. 339) - Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
• Requiem - John Leavitt (a seven-movement work)

Our program at Buchenwald will include:

• Kol Nidre - Max Bruch
• Adonai R'oi (Psalm 23) - Gerald Cohen
• Credo - Jane M. Marshall (text based on an inscription found in a Cologne cellar where Jews hid, and Mark 9:24)
• Mourner's Kaddish

I will be back on June 30th and will try to have some pictures and wonderful stories to share.
It should be an amazing trip!

On Turning 42

This week I turned 42. That's really all I have to say about that.

As I reflect on the events surrounding the big day, it strikes me more than anything that the person who should know me best, doesn't know me at all. For example, I always seem to receive the most un-me presents from "A". One year, I got a bike... another year I got a sattelite radio... another a television. This year, I got a gold-dipped rose. It's lovely, I suppose, in a gaudy sort of way... but I have absolutely no clue what I'm supposed to DO with it! I don't mean to sound ungrateful... I appreciate the thought... really, I do... but a gold-dipped rose?

We did go to a great new restaurant though... at least I thought it was great. I was thoroughly enjoying myself -- tasting the wine flights that were paired with my meal of slow roasted rotisserie chicken pulled from the bone and sautéed with artichoke hearts, kalamata olives, crimini mushrooms and fresh herbs, finished in a smoked tomato and balsamic vinegar reduction (oh, but I digress) -- when "A" proclaimed that the reason he likes the desert and sailing is because it's away from people -- it's quiet, peaceful and serene -- and restaurants like the one we were sitting in make him feel uncomfortable and drive him crazy. I LOVED the restaurant. I LOVED being in the midst of people having a good time -- talking, laughing and carrying on. I LOVED being right in the middle of LIFE! That's when it struck me -- like a Mack truck on a downhill incline -- this is just not going to work. That realization took the wind out of my sails... sapped my appetite for the scrumptious cheesecake flight I was about to order and turned my mood from a bubbly champagne to a brooding Bordeaux.

Things didn't improve much when we got home. We settled in to watch a movie -- which he slept through -- and although we had planned for him to spend the night, I woke up alone this morning. He crept out in the middle of the night... didn't leave a note or anything. Guess he was disappointed that he didn't get 'dessert' either. Sorry... guess that's TMI.

I don't know how to reconcile these differences. Even if we split our time 50/50 between solitude and society, one of us will always be out of our element and miserable. Frankly, neither being miserable nor being with someone who's miserable particularly appeals to me. THIS is what faces me upon turning 42.

So, where is June?

Seems that Blogger is filing my June posts away in some deep, dark hole... Ah... the joys of technology.

Today was my nieces' recital -- one played piano and the other guitar. That was two torturous hours of my life I'd like to have back -- save for the sweet moments when they each sat beside me and put their heads on my shoulder. I love my girls.

"A" was supposed to come over today. It seems that I'm always going to his apartment... and even when he does stop by here, he rarely stays longer than a few minutes. It's as if he can't wait to get out the door -- like a goblin's gonna get him if he doesn't run away. Anyway, tonight, I was going to cook dinner and we were going to hang out here. When I called, he asked for a rain check. I wasn't surprised... a bit disappointed... but not surprised. I don't think we'll ever manage to live together again. We just want different things... and we each want them passionately. We have some wonderful moments together... but are moments enough to sustain a relationship for a lifetime? I don't know the answer to that.

I have an idea baking for a new website for me... I just have to identify enough public domain songs so that I can put together a nice repertoire without getting into any hot water. I think I'm going to throw my hat into the ring and see if I can get a band to pick me up as a vocalist. I've been haunting the audition boards here of late... I definitely have itchy feet (as my friend Tammy put it). I'll keep you posted.

A Fork in the Road

Yesterday I came upon a fork in the road... no, really, a four-pronged fork sitting on the road. I had to swerve to miss it. Perhaps we should ask Master Ron to interpret that one for us!

Yeah... but what does it MEAN?

So, in the wee-small-hours of the morn, I had this bizarre dream. In the dream, I was at the gym and one of the girls invited me to an event -- free overnight stay at an oceanfront hotel just for attending a 10 hour meeting the next day. I asked what the meeting was about and she said it was to become a Curves instructor. I promptly said, "I could do that!"

Not wanting to ignore signals from the Universe, I looked up opportunities at Curves... but really... when is it a "sign" and when is it just a crazy dream?

Things that make ya go, "hmmmmm..."

Last weekend, "A" (I guess I should re-name Mr. Small -- since we are no longer in a name-calling phase of our relationship) and I went out for Sunday Dinner at a local seafood restaurant. He was in a bit of a testy mood -- had been most of the weekend. As we sat there waiting for the copious amounts of food that he had ordered, a couple came in -- accompanied by a younger woman and sat at a table within my range of vision. I looked at the woman and thought that she looked very familiar. Everyone in the restaurant started buzzing around their table and, finally, the owner (or maybe head chef) came and sat down with them. As I stared at her (I hope not too apparently) trying to figure out who the heck she was, all of a sudden it dawned on me... it was my psychic! Well, she's not MINE, but she's the one I saw and about whom I wrote a while back!

The sight of her sent my mind back to her 'predictions' and I started reading back through my journal and my post about her on the blog. One of the things that she said to me was that I should find a house with the view that I want. That's always been a bit of a sticking point with me and "A" because he's a bit anti-social and wants to live out in the middle of nowhere and I want to live in a condo or small cottage by the ocean or on the bay. I thought we had reached an agreement -- that we would find a house with a water view. Well, over the Memorial Day Holiday, "A" got a bit in his cups and started talking about "the next house" he buys... once again, we were back to the "middle of nowhere" discussion. It makes me wonder if he was ever sincere about our compromise. It was not a very reassuring weekend and has me questioning the ground I thought we had gained.

It's That Time of Year

I'm learning something about myself these days. I'm learning that I'm a malcontent. I've been working for my current company for eighteen months... and I'm over it. No, really... I mean it... I'm over it! The working weekends, nights, driving all over hell's half acre to meet with people who don't even bother to show up 40% of the time. I am 100% pure-t OVER IT!!!

But here's the problem... I'm over it every 18 months and have been for these past 25 years. Do you know how long my resume would be if I listed ALL of my jobs? If I were an employer looking at my resume, I wouldn't hire me! LOL

Yep, it's that time of year -- only this year, I think I've run out of "do-overs." Guess I'll just have to figure out a way to be un-over-it. Any suggestions?

I've been away too long...

I promise to do better -- to write more often. Really, I do!

Sand

As I was straightening up this past weekend, I ran across a Journal that I started back in February of 2004 -- when Mr. Small and I were first facing separation. I took a weekend away down in North Carolina and did some writing while I was there. I actually wrote the following short story. I titled it: Sand.

A beautiful sea creature lives and frolics in the ocean deep -- safe within her beautiful shell. Tossed about by the waves, one day she washes up on a beach. Just as she nestles into the warm, soft sand, sea gulls begin to swoop and dive -- pecking at her beautiful shell, until at last it opens and its tender contents are devoured.

The tides rise and fall and, over time, the beautiful shell is worn smooth by the churning ocean waves. Years pass, and the shell continues the cycle: resting on the beach at low tide -- only to be swept once more into the chaotic sea as the tide comes in. This cycle seems to go unnoticed by the world and the shell bears her journey alone.

With each passing year, she becomes smaller and her memory of the beautiful sea creature she once was is but a faded memory. Bleached by the sun and tumbled by the sea, the shell bears no resemblance to her former glory. Even so, she basks in the sun on a bright winter morning.

All of a sudden, a careless traveller treads on her -- shattering her tiny, shimmering frame into a million pieces. The tide tumbles the pieces away and the once beautiful sea creature is reduced to nothing more than just grains of sand.

(c) Oh to be a 40's Torch Singer. All rights reserved.

It's Really No Secret!

(Note: This post was started back in March... I'm leaving what I originally wrote intact and adding to the end) I've been listening to The Secret on CD for the past several weeks -- mostly due to some derogatory remarks made about it at church. I always like to form my own opinions, rather than have someone else form them for me. As I listened, I was struck by the fact that the lessons it contains are also contained in The Bible... although they are lessons that are always presented with caveats, warnings and disclaimers in most protestant churches I have ever attended.

Let's take, for example, the idea that thoughts become things -- or thinking fat thoughts makes us fat, thinking bad thoughts brings bad things, etc. This was clearly stated in Proverbs 23:7, "As a man thinketh, so is he."

Next, let's look at the idea that we can have, do or be anything we want. That one is all over the New Testament -- I especially like the Red Letter text in Matthew 21 that tells us we can remove mountains and cast them in to the sea if we but have FAITH and that "all things, whatsoever ye shall ask in prayer, believing, ye shall receive." (Yes, I'm a KJV kind of gal - I love the poetry and grandeur of the language.)

(New Portion)
The part about The Secret that makes it truly challenging for me is the 'faith without doubt' part. I'm learning more and more that I have a doubting Thomas streak in me about a mile wide. I WANT to believe and yet find my mind bombarded with contingencies and counter-contingencies in case things don't work out the way I had hoped. This past week was a prime example. I had an opportunity to write a huge investment case -- five figure commission huge -- which, in my market is rare. I started the afternoon BELIEVING that it was already done... then, I started saying things like, "please pray that this goes through" and "cross your fingers" and "it's not a done deal yet, but I HOPE it will go through." Needless to say, I did NOT get the account. Neither was I able to go buy that car I test drove, nor the home that's on my Vision Board. I'm meditating and working on changing my thinking, but I have to tell you that it's not as easy as it sounds... and by typing that, I've just ensured that it will remain hard! LOL

The Secret is NOT for skeptics. It's not for doubters, nor is it for realists. The Secret is for those who can still muster child-like belief... for as it is written "Whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child, he shall not enter therein." Mark 10:15 KJV

Random Thoughts on a Snowy Thursday

I didn't think I'd get to post anything about snow this year, it's been so unseasonably warm here -- but we're starting to get the first flurries of the season and the temperature is forecast to plummet tonight with windchills in the single digits. It sure is pretty coming down, but damned if folks around here aren't down right ignorant trying to drive in it! It's not sticking to anything and the temps are still above freezing, but you'd think we were in the throes of a full-blown blizzard. Traffic's a mess already. Oy!

On the man-front, things took a bizarre twist late last week. The Chef called me, sounding rather odd and uncomfortable on the phone. He said that we needed to talk before I came up there for the weekend (scheduled for this weekend). I said, 'okay' and then it started... when he told me he wasn't still married, that wasn't entirely true... they are still married, but it's complicated -- too complicated to explain over the phone. I told him to give it his best shot. He went on to say that they married for immigration reasons (I don't want to go into too many details for obvious reasons) and that they had an 'open' marriage. Of course, I told him that I had absolutely no interest in participating in such an arrangement and promptly cancelled my reservation for my weekend get-away. I guess that stack of reading material will just have to keep waiting, because there will be no quiet morning at the B&B for me any time soon.

I did break down and join Match. So far, it's been a real source of entertainment, if not the best source for finding appropriate men my age!

I'm finding out that there are some seriously disturbed individuals on that site! This one guy sent me an e-mail and, based on his profile, I had zero interest in him -- but the biggest drawback for me was that he had a young child. That's one of my no-no's. I really don't want to be a step-mom again. I've BTDT and I have zero interest in doing it again... not because my stepson was anything less than a blessing - but his mother, on the other hand, was not!

So, to make a long story less long, I e-mailed him back and said that I didn't think I was the gal for him and that my long-term plans did not include becoming a step-mother. Well, boy, howdy did he write the most scathing e-mail you've ever read... beginning with, "well, thank you for making life decisions for me" and berating me for thinking I have some kind of crystal ball to peer into the future. I very calmly reminded him that we're all on the site looking for someone with whom we can envision ourselves living long-term or forever... and that I was NOT making life decisions for HIM, but rather for myself.

Then, there are the kooks who think they look great without their shirts and have 10-15 pictures of themselves sans upper-body attire. Really, they need a reality check -- especially the ones who claim that their chest is their best feature! The last time I checked, niether love handles nor man-boobs were workout goals at Bally's.

Oh, and then there's the "Mensan". He e-mailed me to point out how many times I used the word 'I' in my profile... Let's see, my profile is supposed to tell everyone who I am... I is the chief pronoun used to describe the self, but I digress. We exchanged a few e-mails and then he came back with some pompous crap asking me if I thought I was up for the 'challenge' of being with a Mensan. I told him that while I qualify for MENSA, I've never felt the need to join and that I was certain I could handle the challenge -- the question was whether or not I WANTED to! Let's see... how many 'I's did I use in THAT paragraph?

All-in-all, it has me wondering if it's even worth the effort. As I listened to the tape my psychic made for me one thing jumped out at me that I had missed while I was sitting with her. She said, "some people need to be married... you, on the other hand, don't. You're perfectly content just as you are." You know what? She's right! I am perfectly content... so why muck about with a good thing? I'm just sayin'!

I am an Owl

At least according to the Psychic I saw today.

A very dear friend of mine went to see her and raved about how accurate she was. I've been wrestling with the whole dating thing, so I decided to go and see what she had to say.

The first thing she said was that there are two children showing... I have no children. She said that it was possible that I might marry someone with two children or that I might have two pets that I consider my children. I guess I'm half-way there with the pets. LOL

Since my Ex seems to be making an effort to improve his outlook on life, I also wanted to know what the future holds as it relates to relationships. She said definitively, "you have not yet met the person you're going to marry." Further discussion took us to my Ex's date of birth and a reading surrounding his numbers. She nailed him -- more so that she did me -- she nailed him! While she felt that he does love me as much as he is able, that he is unwilling to compromise and, while she doesn't like to give negative readings, that she doesn't think we will stay together more than three months even if we DO get back together. She also addressed, without my asking, the nagging little voice in the back of my wee noggin that thinks he wants to get back together all of a sudden because I'm doing so well financially. She stated that one of the reasons he wants to get back together -- and immediately -- is that he wants me to share living expenses so that he can have more of the things he wants.

Anyway, she went on to talk about larks and owls. She said that larks and owls cannot peacefully cohabitate. When she defined a lark as someone who rises with the sun and an owl as someone who sleeps late and works late I saw us. Mr. Small is a lark... he is 100% morning person. I am an owl... I love to stay up late and sleep late. I'm at my best between 3 pm and 11 pm, as long as I've had my beauty rest.

So, not that I would ever make my life decisions based on the reading of a psychic... it was nice to hear confirmation that my intuition is intact and operating properly. That's another thing she told me -- trust my gut. If I follow that, I will be just fine.

Hoot-hoot!

The Power to Transform

One of the big influences on my life in the past year or so has been the work of Dr. Wayne Dyer. I first saw The Power of Intention on his PBS special and was intrigued by what he had to say. I ordered some of his CDs and began listening. Much of what he said resonated for me and, as a result, my life has been changed. One of the main themes of Dr. Dyer's work is that we are all part of the Universal energy... that we all come from the same source -- the God Source and because we are all made up of energy, we have the ability to attract energy into our lives. He posits that we attract into our lives those things on which we place our attention. If we place our attention on what we do not have then we attract more of 'not having' into our lives.

It all sounded good - but I decided I wanted to put the theory to the test. I started to implement his suggestions for living in harmony with Source Energy or God and my life began to change in some amazing ways. I established the practice of giving thanks every night before going to sleep every for the many blessings in my life and found that I became happier and more content with who I was. Then, abundance started to flow in my life and people began to reach out to me and pave the way for me to grow my business.

Not wanting to keep this all to myself, I decided to share the CDs with my Ex. I didn't really figure he'd listen to them because he's such a die-hard skeptic. However, he actually DID listen to them... and what's more amazing, he liked what he heard... and more amazing still, he has started making some of the same changes in his life that I made in mine.

Is it possible that six little CDs could change his life too? If so, then the Power of Intention is much greater than I ever imagined, because there couldn't have been a greater cynic and pessimist than my Ex. It will be interesting to watch.

To Match or Not to Match

It seems that online dating sites are all the rage in the over-40 dating scene these days. All of my single friends are winking away at Match.com and seem to be having a grand old time. Me? I'm skeptical. Mostly, I think I'm skeptical because I was on the cutting edge of Internet dating some eight years ago... you see, I met Mr. Small in an Internet chat room and we all see how THAT turned out. Of course, we've also seen how relying on friends and acquaintances to introduce you turned out too! LOL

I've been trying to come up with a witty screen name and intro. Tell me what you think:

Screen Name: 41SINK

Secure, independent, fun-loving professional seeking same for companionship and possible romance. No children - just an adorable terrier mix pup. I prefer to keep it that way. I like my life to be simple and am content living on my own.

My ideal match is someone who is sincere and spiritual and possesses a love for life and all living things. Ideally, he would also love live music (including symphony, jazz and big band), know how to dance (swing, rhumba, cha-cha, etc), 'get' indy films and be able to hold his own in an erudite discussion.

I'm not looking to play games... but I'm not looking to get married either. I'm just looking for true and sincere companionship. I am a deeply passionate person, but I do not believe that casual and sex belong in the same sentence.

If you feel that we could be a 'match', give me a shout out!
===============================
What say ye, oh faithful reader(s).?

Thoughts for the New Year

On 2006

This past year has been a tremendous time of growth and self-awareness. I have gone from dependence to independence -- from misery to contentment. I have made new friends, established a new career and come to grips with old wounds and losses. All-in-all, I would say that it was a very good year. I am thankful for the lessons learned, the abundance that has flowed into my life and the love that has sustained me.

On The Drummer

The end of 2006 saw the end of an old love and the possibility of a new one. My first foray into the dating scene was enough to give even the most battle-hardened veteran cause for retreat. Here's how the story goes: good clients of mine, after hours of discussions one evening, decided that they had just the guy for me -- a long-time friend and musician. This friend wasn't looking for a relationship -- just someone to listen to music with and maybe grab a meal or two for companionship. Numbers were exchanged and later that week a call came in from "The Drummer". He had a very pleasant voice and we had lots in common, so we decided to meet that weekend to listen to a local blues trio. Plans were set and I was looking forward to the event -- we spoke on the phone several more times and the conversation was easy and flowed naturally.

The night of the date, I took extra care getting ready -- I even made sure to have the proper heel height so I didn't tower over him, as he reported being an inch taller than me. As I pulled up in front of the club, I saw two men standing out front. One I recognized as the lead guitarist for the trio -- the other was a short, balding gentleman with coke-bottle glasses, rolled up blue jeans, no socks and dockers. As I approached, he addressed me and introduced himself as "The Drummer." Closer inspection revealed a glass eye and a forest of nose hair. I was taller than him by at least four inches.

Determined to make the best of the evening, we went inside to listen to the trio -- who, thank goodness, were VERY good! We chatted between sets - again, the conversation was easy - but I felt he was starting to get that romantic look in his eye(s) - so I tried to keep it light and casual. As the evening progressed, he started touching me when he spoke and leaning in to talk to me -- with the good eye aimed directly down my blouse. The piece d'resistance, however, occurred upon my return from the ladies' room, when I found him flapping and hopping about like an injured water fowl. I can only assume that he was dancing. If my mother hadn't raised me better, I would have flung myself on the floor laughing hysterically.

As the evening came to a close, he walked me to my car. Fearing the worst, I quickly unlocked the door and positioned myself behind it like a knight behind his shield. Again, I attempted to keep things very casual -- after all, I was TOLD he wasn't looking for a relationship -- but the look in his eye said he WAS looking for something less noble. I told him I'd see him at the New Years Eve party... but the next night he called and left a message to see if I wanted to go out again that night or the next... or the next. Ugh! I didn't return the call... or the one the next evening. Unfortunately, I didn't see him at the New Year's party either -- since I had a date with the toilet bowl, courtesy of the stomach virus so lovingly passed along to me by my nieces.

So, this less than promising entree to the dating scene has me a bit gun shy... is this REALLY something on which I want to waste my energy?

On The Chef

For those of you who've been pining for news of The Chef, fear not! I have learned that he is no longer married to the Salsa instructor mentioned in the article I found. He has called a number of times and e-mailed a number of times and I am going to visit near the end of the month for a special dinner at the Inn. He's promised me a tour of wine country and a nice evening out. Then, in February, he's going to come visit me!

I don't know what depth of relationship can be established with monthly visits, living four hours apart, and working opposing schedules... but the mere anticipation of seeing him again is worth its weight in gold!

On Work

I finished the year just $832.50 shy of my goal. It might as well have been $8,000... because in my business, 'close' doesn't count! Still, I am pleased with my results. This is my first year with the company and I finished in the top 25 in my region. My goal for this year is to DOUBLE my results! (something I WON'T achieve if I don't get busy right now!!!)

Here's to a fantabulous 2007!

Encroachment - 15-yard Penalty!

My next door neighbor -- the one who blows all of her leaves into my yard -- has removed my property line marker and proceeded to put her tacky-ass Christmas lights on MY property. I don't want to be petty at this time of year -- really, I don't. But first and foremost - who gave her permission to remove the property line flag? And second, what makes her think that I would want that trailer park yard art on MY front lawn?

Some people!

Time to say goodbye

After over a year of separation, I decided that it was time to have the conversation with Mr. Small about ending our marriage. I found myself thinking that I couldn't truly move on and even consider another relationship until I had closure with him.

I thought it was going to be easy. I had my words carefully picked. The reality was far removed from the calm, quiet resignation I imagined.

Of course, his first question was, "is there someone else?" For the first time ever, the answer to that was not so clear-cut. There really isn't someone else - but there is, for the first time, the possibility of someone else.

For the first time, he admitted to me his loathing of life, his thoughts of suicide and the utter abandonment he feels. There was a time in my life where I would have thought it my responsibility -- my duty -- to fix those feelings, to nurture and coddle and assure. Instead, I told him that I, too, have felt those emotions and that the answer to those feelings will not be found in anything exterior to himself - that he has to search within.

We talked for several hours about why and how and when this all happened. He once again asserted that winning the lottery would fix it all. When we were done talking, there was such a sense of sadness. I couldn't help but feel that if only I could have loved him enough that things would have worked... but I know that is not true - because the one person who needs to love him in order for him to be happy will likely never do so. I pray, though, that one day he may find inner peace and the joy that comes from being at one with your Source.

I wept for hours last night... my eyes still showing the signs of the "ugly cry" this morning - swollen, puffy and red. I wept for what could have been, I wept for the sweetness of his unconditional love for me and for my inability to love that way in return. I wept for the depth of his despair and for the little boy who's crying out to be loved and held and not sent away -- and I wept for sending him away once again.

It's time to say goodbye, my love. May you one day find peace.

Poetry -- it's what I do when I don't know what to do...

Talking for hours by a roaring fire
Dancing the dance of lovers
Advancing, retreating, all the while wondering what the other is thinking.

A tender kiss in the morning light
Frost on the ground
Feeling, reeling, not knowing what the future might be bringing.

A long drive alone with time to think
Has it gone too far?
Pacing, mind racing, is it just an indiscretion you’re not facing?

Days go by without a word
Emotions ebb and flow
Anticipating, heart aching, expecting too much? Is he reciprocating?

Too much to do
No time to think it through
Forgetting, regretting, I don’t know – do you?

(c) Oh to be a 40's Torch Singer.
All rights reserved.

This is your brain...

this is your brain on pheromones...

What is it about the mere thought of a person to whom you're attracted that causes all of your intellectual prowess to disappear? What is it about the memory of a kiss that short-circuits all logical function of the brain? How Pavlovian is it to become jittery and nervous each time the little letter shows up in the system tray of my computer?

I still haven't confirmed or negated the presence of a wife... but I have received a very sweet e-mail telling me what a wonderful time he had and promising to come visit in January or February. I fired back an innocent query about the person whose name I found in the article. Of course, in the hospitality industry, your weekends are not your own, so I don't really expect to hear back from him until Monday or Tuesday when the Inn is closed.

I really suck at waiting. It's not something I do well at all. I have way too active of an imagination and I create too many stories in my mind. It's sad, really... but it's just who I am.

How many hours til Monday?

Turd in a Punch Bowl

That's what I feel like tonight. I just can't help but feel that I've done something horrible and I just can't seem to let it go... I want him to call so I can know for sure... I want to e-mail him, but I don't know if anyone else has access to his account. This SUCKS! I can't sleep. I can't eat. I can't think about anything else. Surely there's some OCD in my psychological profile somewhere...

I keep saying to myself: "let it go, Lauren." I can't change what happened... but I can't forget how I felt BEFORE I found out about the wife.

Tick-tock, tick-tock... It's nearly 12:30 am... I need to TRY to get some sleep -- after all, I still have a whole butt-load of business to write before year-end. I soooooooo don't need any added stress right now.

Rat farts!

Tick, tock, tick, tock...

It's been more than 24 hours... no call... no returned e-mail (yes, I sent an e-mail... it just said that I had a wonderful time and that I hoped he'd keep in touch).

Of course, since yesterday's post, I've located an article about his Inn that seems to indicate there's a spouse... at least there was a spouse in December of '05 when the article was written. Funnily enough, I seem to recall meeting a woman by this name when I first checked in (she didn't take his last name, apparently). Now, I want to hear from him all the more so I can figure out what the hell happened! I soooooooooo do not want to be "that girl" -- you know, the home wrecker, the floozy who messes around with married men. I've been on the other side of that equation and I wouldn't wish that experience on my worst enemy. Why can't things just be simple?

I did, however, receive an invitation to return to the Inn on business to write policies on one of the employees... comped room and all... I wonder what his reaction would be if he walked in and saw me standing there? He just did not seem like the kind of guy who would DO that... but then I've been wrong before... horribly wrong.

Ugh!

Giddy

I know you're probably going to get whiplash going from my last post to this one -- but I just can't help it!

Last evening, I drove up to Skyline Drive for an exclusive dinner hosted by my region's vice president for the top producers on her "Round Table." We went to a very cozy B&B (I won't name it here on the off-chance that someone might run across the post -- I wouldn't want to incriminate anyone!) and had a scrumptious dinner and great conversation. Afterward, those of us who were staying overnight gathered at the bar for a nightcap, when in walked the chef. We all applauded him and he was a very pleasant fellow, so we started talking. Over the coming hours, nearly everyone else wandered off to bed and left the two of us sitting at the bar - still gabbing like we'd known each other for years.

Now, I have not spent one minute with any other man since the ex and I separated a year ago (can you believe it was a year Thanksgiving Day?) and I never really expected to find myself having those giddy feelings again - wasn't looking for it at all -- then as I was about to turn in, he leaned over and kissed me and my knees went weak. Suffice it to say that the evening wore even longer as we tried to weave our way through the "I hardly know you, but DAMN, I really like you" rush of emotions that come along with the first blush of a relationship. (Is this a relationship? could it be? do I want it to be?) So, today, in the wake of my concern for my father, I'm feeling like a silly, giggly school girl and find myself facing the age-old question that I never thought I'd ask again... "will he call?"

Stay tuned!

Daddy's Broken

This week, my precious father nearly lost his life again. Save for the marvels of modern medicine, he would not be with us today. Once again, his heart rate skyrocketed to nearly 300 and he lost consciousness. It was his internal defibrillator that saved his life. At his doctor's appointment the following day, they told him that he should stop driving... they might as well have told him to stop breathing.

My dad's been a day-tripper for as long as I can remember. Whenever things got rought at work or at home, he'd jump in his truck and take off for the Eastern Shore, or one of the state parks in North Carolina -- or go for a ride on the beach in Corolla. It's his way of escaping and relieving stress. Not only has this outlet been taken from him, but now he'll have to give up his part-time job as well (which I think he does just to escape my mom's incessant chatter). You see, he drives hearses and flower trucks for a local funeral home and spends days collecting and delivering death certificates.

It is so difficult to watch the man to whom you've always looked up -- the one on whom you've depended to do the hard stuff -- like open things, move things, and fix things -- become feeble and dependent. My heart is just breaking for him -- he's fiercely independent and I fear that losing his independence will leave him devoid of joy and purpose, causing him to deteriorate long before his time. I'm not ready for that... not yet... not ever.

My Daddy's broken and I wish I could fix him.

Owner of a Broken Heart and other random musings...

Last evening I got a call from a dear friend. I could hardly understand her and at first I thought we had a bad cell connection -- but it turns out that she was sobbing uncontrollably. Her Prince Charming had just dumped her and she was inconsolable. So, out the door I go with a box of Kleenex and a bottle of wine. I hate to see my friends hurting and this friend in particular due to the absolutely horrendous childhood she had. Her mother is literally a crack whore and this dear, sweet girl rose above her beginnings, worked her way through college and has become an upstanding member of society.

I chose the name "Prince Charming" for a reason -- her love affair with this guy is really a Cinderella story. He came from old money -- one of the most prominent families in town -- she from the aforementioned crack whore. She spent two years of her life trying to prove to him that she was worthy of his love -- only to find out that it is an emotion of which he is completely incapable. I wanted to knock him upside the head last night as she sobbed in my arms. Despite all of her self-realization and therapy, still she couldn't help but think that if only she had tried harder, had a better pedigree, been prettier, smarter, or more patient that he wouldn't have left her. She is, unfortunately, the owner of a broken heart and I was completely helpless to do a damned thing about it.

In other news...

What the hell are people thinking? Yesterday I was sitting at a stoplight and on one corner was a Citgo whose gas cost $1.98 per gallon on the opposite corner was a BP whose gas cost $2.10 per gallon. There wasn't a soul at the Citgo and there was a LINE at the BP. I KNOW that it was not due to any type of boycott of the Venezuelan-held company -- the people around here aren't that politically aware -- so I just have to say, "what the fuck?" In my little economy, twelve cents per gallon, times 13 gallons equals $1.56 and THAT's one whole cup of 7-Eleven coffee!

In YNPFLN news, the lady with the yard full of plastic flowers has just traded out the purple flowers for a sea of bright orange ones. {{SHUDDER}}

And in the "What's the Matter with Kids Today" category... the little shits threw my carefully raked bags of pinestraw into the middle of the street, where someone collided head on with one of them, ripping it to smitherines. Don't they have anything better to do? Really?

And finally, in the "Life Ain't Fair" category... my favorite manager just told me that come January 1, she will no longer be my manager. That was bad enough... but I found out that she's being replaced by two... count them TWO pantywastes. There's not enough backbone between them to make a good cat. Grrrrrrrr

A Silly Break from the Wall-to-Wall Election Coverage

1. Explain what ended your last relationship? Negativity

2. When was the last time you shaved? Sunday

3. What were you doing this morning at 8 a.m.? Pouring my second 16 oz cup of coffee.

4. What were you doing 15 minutes ago? Reading Sheri's blog (thanks for the tag... I knew I should have stopped reading before number 30!)

5. Are you any good at math? I hope so -- I'm a financial specialist!

6. Your prom night? I had one... it was about three weeks after breaking up with a long-time boyfriend. I took a friend with me.

7. Do you have any famous ancestors? Rumor has it that we're related to William Lloyd Garrison.

8. Have you had to take a loan out for school? Yes. Thankfully, it's long since paid off.

9. Do you know the words to the song on your myspace profile? I ain't got no such thing...

10. Last thing received in the mail? An offer for Dr. Wayne Dyer's latest CD set. I promptly ordered it!

11. How many different beverages have you had today? Just two -- the above-referenced 32 oz of coffee and some bottled water.

12. Do you ever leave messages on peoples answering machines? Every day. It's part of what I do... being in sales and all...

13. Who did you lose your CONCERT virginity to? Sheri, you ARE kidding right? You mean there's another definition for Concert Virginity than the group you saw at your first concert? YIKES! My first concert was Air Supply, followed shortly thereafter by the Doobie Brothers... I'm old too, Sheri!

14. Do you draw your name in the sand when you go to the beach? Abso-freakin-lutely!

15. What was the most painful dental procedure you have had? Four wisdom teeth surgically extracted at the same time... two had roots wrapped around my jaw bone and I woke up in the middle of it all. I'm just saying...

16. What is out your back door? A yard and my neighbor's house.

17. Any plans for Friday night? R-E-L-A-X with a nice bottle-o-vino.

18. Do you like what the ocean does to your hair? Hmmm.. let me think about this... it gets salty, sandy and stands on end... uh, yeah... love it! (NOT)

19. Have you ever received one of those big tins of 3 different popcorns? Yes, my step-grandmother used to give me one every year for Christmas. Ho-ho-ho...

20. Have you ever been to a planetarium? Absolutely! I took an astronomy course as part of my junior high gifted and talented program. It was fabulous spending the summer in a darkened planetarium with that good-looking guy from Deep Creek with the dreamy eyes...

21. Do you re-use towels after you shower? Yep - I'm clean, so what's the big??

22. Some things you are excited about? My trip to Germany & Austria next summer, and the possibility of winning an all-expense paid trip to Cancun!

23. What is your favorite flavor of JELLO? I don't really care for the stuff, personally.

24. Describe your keychain(s)? A blue hand.

25. (there was no question 25 on the original, so I'm making one up) How glad are you that the elections are over? Happy, happy, joy, joy... I'm so sick of the friggin commercials I could scream!!!!!

26. Where do you keep your change? In a big flower vase.

27. What kind of winter coat do you own? All kinds. It's embarrassing really... I'm planning to donate at least three of them to the Salvation Army this winter.

28. What was the weather like on your graduation day? It was gorgeous! It was sunny and warm, with a nice breeze.

29. Do you sleep with the door to your room open or closed? Closed. If not, the pupster wanders around the house and barks at anything that moves.

30. Did U read this far? I hope you did! Now you are tagged!

I Just Don't Like the Way He Parts His Hair

My grandmother used this expression when referring to people for whom she felt an inexplicable aversion -- much the way I feel about the Democrat candidate for Senate here in Virginia (Jim Webb). Granted, I'm very much an independent and rarely align myself with the Democrat party -- still, this man just sets me on edge.

Unfortunately, his Republican opponent is far from a viable alternative -- at least not for me (George Allen). This is a man with whom I've sparred regarding the proposed Constitutional Amendment banning gay marriage. It's not that I'm a rabid gay-rights activist, it's just that marriage has always been a state issue -- not a federal issue -- and certainly not a CONSTITUTIONAL issue! I'm not comfortable with all of this talk about Constitutional Amendments to ban this or that or the other... not in a country founded on freedom of religion and speech.

Anyway, I didn't intend this post to be a political advertisement -- but when I went searching for an alternative today that would allow me to actually cast a vote without vomiting during the act, I found the Green Party candidate, Gail Parker. If her jingle doesn't make you want to run right out and pull that lever, or dangle that chad or whisper a prayer that your new e-vote really counted, then I don't know what will... check it out! Vote Gail "for Rail" Parker!!!

I'm just sayin'...