Jesus, there's a lot of stuff to do to this apartment before we move.
Mark and I thought it would be an amazing idea to tack up yards and yards of fabric to the walls, even creating a border in one the rooms made out of brown fabric. Cute, huh?
Well, taking it down is not cute. For the past hour I've been trying to take the fabric DOWN so I can give it back to Mark when I visit. And there's plaster in my hair, on my face, on the couches...
And HUGE holes in the wall! When you nail fabric to a wall, the nails go straight in. The fabric is so thin, that the nails almost bury themselves in the wall. So it's impossible to pull the nails out with the back of a hammer. So I've been pulling the fabric off the walls and ceilings (yes, it was nailed to the ceiling as well) hoping that the nails will come with it. Sometimes the nails were nailed into the ceiling at an angle, and when I pull, if it's not the perfect angle, huge chunks of the ceiling come out WITH it. And some of the nails don't come out at all. They're buried into the wall. COOL.
So, you're probably saying "Lindsey, there is a better way to do it." And my response to you is "No there's not. I've tried all the ways. And simply damaging the apartment to pull away the fabric is the best option. If you disagree, come over and do it yourself. You're welcome."
It's very weird and unsettling to be in a transition right now. I'm here in Columbia, just kind of hanging out and waiting to start my new life in Bloomington. I'm leaving in less than a month (and spending a week and a half out west) and I don't have any time to move FORWARD. So I'm just here, wasting time until the next portion of my life starts. It's kind of upsetting. Mark always calls with stories about his new life and I'm so excited for him, but he's moving forward and I'm just waiting. By myself. It's a weird feeling.
It's like, the only emotions I have time for right now are excitement and sadness. I'm excited about the future, but so sad about what I'm leaving behind.
Apparently Mark is eating tofu coconut smoothies. Who is my friend? It's weird that he's already started a new life. Kind of depressing for me as I sit on my ass and watch Will and Grace by myself.
But don't feel bad, readers (I'd be lucky if there were two of you). Tonight I made a good dinner and mixed lemonade with iced tea and picked myself up.
Sometimes I wonder why I'm going into early music, because the world of music is so vast and I love it all. Rachel and I are going to try to get together before I leave and work up some music for fun, so I've been going through new lit recently to find the perfect rep for us.
Would you believe that the only lieder I did in my college studies was Mahler? A LOT of Mahler, but nothing else. And I love Mahler, but there's so much out there. I like Brahms, but it's not my favorite--a little too folksy. So, I got some Strauss and went through it this evening.
What have I been missing? Of course I know his operas, and I know his virtuosic lieder. But there are a lot of understatedly beautiful pieces I had never heard that I can't wait to do. "Morgen" might be of the most beautiful pieces I've ever heard and I can't wait to put it in Rachel's hands.
And tomorrow the sun will shine again
And on the path that I shall follow
It will reunite us, fortunate ones,
In the midst of this sunshine-breathing earth...
How he sets that is so fitting and perfect, and it makes me wonder if Strauss was human to write it. Or if humans are allowed to make music so perfect...
So Mark moved out. He officially left our parking lot at 5:15 yesterday evening with a car filled to the brim with everything that "made the cut." His move was long, tedious, emotional, difficult, and wonderfully fulfilling at the same time. As a result, I was a schizophrenic mess when he left, which could only be quelled by my anti-gay-but-kind-of-gay-best-non-gay-guy-friend Neil (Neil, by the way, is NOT anti gay as in "I'm gonna kill me some gays today," but anti-gay in his "I'm obviously a top" macho-ness). We cooked, drank, ate, drank, talked, drank, played wii, and drank, all of which were very straight-gay activities that helped me deal with the passing of my gay-gay best friend.
I spent today by myself in my mess of an apartment, trashed with Mark's leftover belongings he tossed aside while packing when he realized his little Prism wouldn't hold it all. I spent much of the day wandering around and avoiding cleaning up the multitude of unorganized piles. I straightened my hair, edited my recital mp3s, discussed moving logistics with my mother, warmed up leftover salmon... And after stuffing my brain with as much Bravo reality tv as I could take, I decided to deal with the loss of my beloved gay in a
more proactive manner.
When your best friend packs up and heads off on the Oregon Trail to pursue an unknown career on the west coast and return indefinitely, it's easy to fall into a state of zombie-like shock. But I caught myself early, dried my eyes, made a craft-run to Walmart, and watched Kathy Griffin while crafting. As this was a favorite activity for me and Markie Jean, it seemed an appropriate homage to him. Since the beginning of time, I have been stealing the book covers from the bulletin board on the top floor of Ellis Library that have ANYTHING to do with music and I have been hoarding them in my room while I wait for an idea of how to use them. I found a stack of unused picture frames Mark left behind, and an idea popped into my head--why not crop the book covers and frame them, to be used as a decoration in my Bloomington apartment! It seemed like a unique idea--framing a bunch of visually interesting covers from a bunch of boring music books. So I did it. And to up the interest, I used different frames and I'll hang them seemingly unordered. After literally hours of cutting, rubber cementing, and centering, I ended up with 10 cropped covers and a sense of accomplishment.
I just went to Addison's with Whitney and crew. Sometimes I think I am a bit of an alcoholic, until I drink two beers and get drunk, and I realize I'm a regular consumer. So I'm a little drunk. (does that make sense? It doesn't, really... but it doesn't matter because I'm the only person who reads this)
Last week I ran a summer camp for COMP and was also the chorus master for Pirates of Penzance with the Missouri Symphony. What a week... Yesterday I sang a Bach aria from a lost cantata with members of MOS for their chamber concert. It was kind of thrilling to perform with professionals (even though I'm not happy with my performance), and it convinced me that I'm getting into the right field.
Mark is leaving next week (presumably). It's kind of weird. I'm not thinking about it. I'm not sad yet, but I'm not allowing myself to be. I imagine when it actually DOES happen that I'll be a mess. Ice cream and supportive friends welcome at this time.