Is it any coincidence that at the same time our hibernating animal friends also go through the same increased frenetic preparatory activities? I don't think so.
Anyway, I'm going on the second fall season in a row in 24 years when I'm not beginning classes. Yet, I still have some of the same conditioned freneticism. This feeling last year was bothersome -- I was just settling in to a new state and city having moved that summer, I was maintaning an easy cosmetics job that I had already grown to hate, and was just about to start my new church job. I entered the cool New Haven autum season with a rather simple life (no, not Paris and Nicole's "Simple Life"): I had two great "gal pals," Svet and I had a tight one-bedroom apartment in which to explore co-habitation - I wasn't doing much more than work and church... But, I got kind of depressed. Dusk's early approach, my unflattering winter clothes, my strickingly short ackward-growing-out-stage of a boy-cut hair style left over from the last opera I did, all didn't do much to help me along into the first season of a lifetime of playing hooky from school. Not to mention we were living in a big college town. And not just any college town - Yale's college town.
And then September came. Something clicked in me around August 31st/September 1st. The first cool front of the season brought with it a gradually increasing amount of adreline. I decided even on my near poverty-line income level, and yes, even with the repayment of my enormous school loans fast approaching, that I needed a car. Not just any car, a new car. I didn't really have a reason to get a car. I mean, I walked to work, and could always get rides from my fellow church goers. But, something in me said that I needed to make a big jump and make my very first car purchase.
I bought my new Toyota on September 11th last year. Random.
I bought my new Toyota on September 11th last year. Random.
And about a week after that, I left my cosmetics job (a field I had been working in for more than 10 years while in school) and was placed in an office as a receptionist/admin assistant by a temp agency. I bought the car before I had the job. By the middle of October, I was the permanent receptionist at a nice little family office that paid me fairly. Not a lot, but fair. And by that point I had received my first pay check from church. That's when I learned exactly why people have church jobs.
I know all that doesn't really sound like much, and has nothing to do with music, but it does. I took some risks, got proactive and made some changes that seemed like big deals at the time. I went from a restrictive day-job surrounded by high school dropouts, to a desk job which allowed me to work on my resume, bio, website, networking and side projects for 6 hours out of an 8 hour work day. From my desk, I was able to organize concerts, gather choir members, plan recitals, and generally keep busy. Ok, so maybe I was using some of their nice stationary too, but never too much.
So, here it is a year later and I'm about due for a raise. I'm again wrapped in the complex weather induced blanket of emotions. What am I cooking up this time around? No new car, and I'm keeping my job this time around (well, for now, at least). But I am gearing up to make my professional stage-directorial debut with Harbor Opera, and something else totally top secret, but oh-so-cool. I should be able to make a big announcement about it in a few months. And no, it has nothing to do with being or getting prego. That's not on the schedule till 2010 (fall, maybe?). I don't think it's totally a coincidence that Svet and I are planning our wedding ceremony for the fall, either.
Beyond my top-secret project which is keeping my plate rather full, I'm learning how to write grants and to fundraise. I've got lots of ideas but no money to do it with. That is one part of the job description that should be taught in school. We all know that most parents try to talk their kids out of a career in music because there's not as much money in it as, say a doctor or lawyer. But, if we were all trained how to create and maintain the financial nuts and bolts of a career in music, maybe fewer parents could think of a reason to deter their kids from this life. (But then again, that would mean more competition for us. Ah, Natural Selection, you are kind.) I think Peabody offered a business of music class, which I totally should have taken. Alas. I'm learning now, though. Crash course.
I am excited to see what else the season cooks up.
I know all that doesn't really sound like much, and has nothing to do with music, but it does. I took some risks, got proactive and made some changes that seemed like big deals at the time. I went from a restrictive day-job surrounded by high school dropouts, to a desk job which allowed me to work on my resume, bio, website, networking and side projects for 6 hours out of an 8 hour work day. From my desk, I was able to organize concerts, gather choir members, plan recitals, and generally keep busy. Ok, so maybe I was using some of their nice stationary too, but never too much.
So, here it is a year later and I'm about due for a raise. I'm again wrapped in the complex weather induced blanket of emotions. What am I cooking up this time around? No new car, and I'm keeping my job this time around (well, for now, at least). But I am gearing up to make my professional stage-directorial debut with Harbor Opera, and something else totally top secret, but oh-so-cool. I should be able to make a big announcement about it in a few months. And no, it has nothing to do with being or getting prego. That's not on the schedule till 2010 (fall, maybe?). I don't think it's totally a coincidence that Svet and I are planning our wedding ceremony for the fall, either.
Beyond my top-secret project which is keeping my plate rather full, I'm learning how to write grants and to fundraise. I've got lots of ideas but no money to do it with. That is one part of the job description that should be taught in school. We all know that most parents try to talk their kids out of a career in music because there's not as much money in it as, say a doctor or lawyer. But, if we were all trained how to create and maintain the financial nuts and bolts of a career in music, maybe fewer parents could think of a reason to deter their kids from this life. (But then again, that would mean more competition for us. Ah, Natural Selection, you are kind.) I think Peabody offered a business of music class, which I totally should have taken. Alas. I'm learning now, though. Crash course.
I am excited to see what else the season cooks up.
