All this time

I'm at my friend Liz's flat in Essex.  After an excruciatingly long week of rehearsals, I'm here to escape the city and to watch all of the Harry Potter movies back to back and eat fajitas and drink tea and sleep late and stay in my pyjamas for two days.  I ventured out of my bedroom to grab a banana and noticed that she's already printed out the Yankees season calendar.  This is the beauty of getting to know old friends again.  Liz and I got to know each other working on a show in Exeter nearly seven years ago.  There was lots of drinking and cavorting and merry-making and curry-eating, as well as an alarming amount of clubbing for yours truly.  And now, here we are, seven years later.  She's super-stoked that I'm singing at the ENO, and I'm just so tickled that she loves baseball.  Even if she is a Yankees fan.

I'm also catching up on my American TV shows.  Who knew that Grey's would take such a dark turn??  I'm trying to relax, drinking lots of water, and telling myself that I've got a full week to get over this cough that keeps waking me up and disturbing my otherwise undisturbed sleep.  I've got a full week to drink throat tender tea and get some of that crazy New Zealand honey that's supposed to cure all ills and take my vitamins and not do a lot of talking.  I have a full week.  And as my friend Jamie says, Mucinex is made of angel tears and I intend to get myself some TODAY.  Because we open a week from today.  And there will be 2500 seats with people sitting in them, and I'm gonna give it to them.  Nothing but net.  

I'm scared.

Through the looking-glass

The day didn't start out well.  I walked out the door to catch the bus, which was late.  I ran through traffic to grab the Tube, and caught the connection to the District line just in time, and then was stuck behind slow people on the stairs.  Got into the train station with five minutes to spare, and got stuck behind slow person at the ticket machine.  Flung myself through the ticket gate, only to see my train pulling out.  All of this, before coffee and before 10am.  

Made it to Blackheath for the sitzprobe with a minute to spare, warmed up, and then sat for about 45 minutes.  This is standard.  Sang my first act aria, sat and did Sudoku until lunchtime.  Made it back to the house, felt like poop, whinged about feeling like poop to the husband, who suggested I go and run out the boo.  Which I did.  

I still feel a little puny.  Throat is a bit swollen, nose a little drippy, but I ran for 33 minutes and felt loads better for having done so.  And I think most of the Tanglewood offers went out this week, which further reinforces that I've got no work for the summer.  It's hard to keep perspective.  I'm singing at this amazing house with a great cast and a wonderful orchestra and I really like it, yet I'm feeling dejected because a festival I didn't enjoy didn't invite me back.  Stupid stupid stupid.  But the grass is always greener on the other side.  Would I rather be starting out as an international mainstage artist or doing really well as a young artist?  Dumb question, of course.  No one wants to peak at 28.  At least, I don't.

Perspective.  That's what this gratitude business is about.  Perspective.  So here goes, from my side of the looking-glass.

1.  I have work.  Good work.  And a decent amount of it.  I get paid to sing things I like to sing.

2.  I have a sweet husband who keeps our life rolling while I'm away.

3.  I have the physical capability to go and run out the crazy when I need to.

4.  I have a nice, quiet, safe place to live while I'm here.

5.  I have supportive friends on both sides of the pond who are caring for me and my beloved while I'm away.  

And that, dear friends, is all she wrote.  Time to get ready for Mandy Patinkin!

Raising the bar

Total time: 46 minutes

Warm up: 5 minutes

Cool down: 5 minutes

Time spent chasing loose dog so he wouldn't end up in the street: 3 minutes

Running time: 33 minutes 

Yesterday was my free day; free from work, free from running, free from rehearsal.  Ayla and I went to her favorite French pastry place in Soho and then spent some quality time at the National Portrait Gallery.  We tried to catch evensong at the Abbey but discovered that it was at 3 on weekends, not at 5 as she had thought, so we ducked into Westminster Cathedral to look at the mosaics and defrost our fingertips.  It was getting into the evening and she had dinner plans, so we grabbed a quick cup of tea at Pret a Manger, aka "Pret Manager," as spoken by the tourists at the next table, and parted ways.  A thoroughly enjoyable yet effortless day. The only real effort was refraining from another pastry....mmmmm.....pastry.

It's a gorgeous day today - sunny, about 43, and breezy.  Perfect weather for running.  I told myself I would go for a 'long run' today to make up for that amazing pastry yesterday, and to see if I can push myself to last longer, at a slightly slower pace.  The good news is that I can!  

I still don't know how long those laps are around the park and with all the little paths here and there, I suspect it would be difficult to get an accurate mileage on it, but at last check, I was schlepping about an 11 to 12-minute mile, meaning that today I ran somewhere around three miles.  This is a huge milestone for me, as I've only ever run more than two miles on a track, a treadmill, and the Jolly Jaunt 5K last month.  This means I can do it on a semi-regular basis, and that I can probably increase my mileage over the next six weeks while I'm here.  

I went to the ballet with my friend Steve the other night.  Steve, like myself, is a young singer who's gotten a big break at an international house.  He's singing at the Royal Opera House, just around the corner from the Coliseum, so we're going to be seeing a lot of each other at the Pret that's halfway between.  We were settling into our seats for Manon and he says to me, "Oh! What are you doing on the 24th?  We've got orchestra dress if you want to come."  And I, excited and surprised to be able to say it, replied, "Um, I'm opening that night."  And we both laughed.  It's an amazing thing to be here.  It's an amazing thing to be able to walk through the theatre district and see that there are amazing works of music and theatre and ballet being performed, and that I'm in one of them.  It's also amazing to have the time and opportunity to do things like go to the Portrait gallery and evensong at the Abbey and get tickets to see Mandy Patinkin in concert (TUESDAY NIGHT!!!!) and still take a day for myself to go for a long run, go to the grocery store, and work on my knitting.  As I told my friend Bethy, it's like I died and went to opera heaven.  The people are nice, the production is good, the city is great, and I get paid too.  

But there's still work to be done.  I have to finish learning Midsummer, make dissertation corrections, and work up to 5 miles.  

Gratitude

1.  my housemate Zoe, who was kind enough to hang up my laundry yesterday

2.  french pastry

3.  old friends, new friends

4.  earl grey tea

5.  the best editor in the lower 48, who sent me corrections RIGHTAWAY