I Don't Care if I'm Repeating Myself
Easter has the best candy. Ever. I mean, peanut butter filled chocolate eggs?







Chocolate marshmallow eggs? Mini eggs? It's crazy. Maureen has a small dish filled with those mini eggs, which are like a highbrow equivalent of m&ms.

Sigh.

R.I.P. L5Y
So here are some action shots of us in the pit for L5Y at CAP. I'm still so bummed I'm not getting to play it again in the foreseeable future.

Gary and me posing for posterity.

Guy practicing some crazy run and Gary testing his pseudo-chime.

So Much Music, So Little Time
I have 6 scores in my possesion right now:

Pajama Game
Last 5 Years
Evita
Music Man
West Side Story
Little Women

It's crazy. What's even crazier is trying to keep them all straight in my head. Luckily, Pajama Game gets returned this weekend. I've fallen absolutely in love with the cello book to Evita. I'm having a wonderful time playing it. It's so inherently Andrew Lloyd Webber - fantastically crazy meters (10/8 and 7/4), lyrical parts, interjections, insane recitatives. The funniest thing is that in hearing one show you can instantly pick out what he used in his other shows. "Bustopher Jones" from Cats is the same as "Good Night and Thank You" from Evita. Too funny.

So-So Morning, Better Afternoon
Hit traffic right on the parkway. And why??? Not because people were rubbernecking an accident. But because people were rubbernecking the aftermath of an accident. How sad is that?

But I got to work and tried to call Dr. B's office to make sure my authorization went through. Which it hadn't up to that point. So I mentally re-arrange my whole schedule, and re-figure what I can do when.
Get through work in one piece and head to the rehearsal. Which I actually make on time and catch most of the music. Not bad. Evita's a nifty piece of work. Only about 2 hours or so, which is lightweight compared to the Rodgers and Hammerstein epics. Plus it's got some nifty little things here and there for strings. So I was done waaaay earlier than I thought. So I went to Target to buy new underwear in case I can't get to the laundromat this week. I figure underwear is something I can always use more of. So I walk in for underwear and a birthday card. Walk out with a fabulous black sheath dress, a black tee shirt (seeing a pattern here?), a birthday card, a gift, some "clean-as-a-whistle" soap, oh yeah, and some underwear. And a new dress always makes me feel good. Plus it looks slightly Holly Go-Lightly, so that's always cool.

Then I drive home (it's still light out at 6:45 p.m.!) and upon arriving home find out the doctor's office called with my authorization and I'm good to go. So I can kind of enjoy my day off on Wednesday and be all sorts of efficient.

What's in a Rob Roy Anyway?*
A day of cello-ing. That's what I thought I had in store for myself. I had the following schedule in my head:

8:15 a.m. - Leave for Bethpage for the first West Side Story rehearsal. Pick up coffee along the way.
8:45 a.m. - Arrive at rehearsal early in order to introduce myself get settled, etc.
12:00 noon - Leave that rehearsal and head to Freeport to assist Jill.
3:00 p.m. - Leave that rehearsal to head to C.A.P. to sink myself into bliss by playing "Last 5 Years"
5:45 p.m. (approx.) - Finish L5Y and find somewhere delicious to eat with Diane.

Here's what actually happened:
8:25 a.m. - Finally get out the door after futzing around.
8:27 a.m. - Discover heinous traffic due to parkway being closed at my exact exit.
8:28 a.m. - Swear profusely while trying to re-navigate route.
8:57 a.m. - Make it finally to Bethpage High School and practically run around the building to find rehearsal.
**During rehearsal, the director comes in to introduce himself. It turns out to be the pit orchestra conductor from when I did West Side Story SIXTEEN YEARS AGO. He tells the new conductor that I'm "really good." No pressure there now!**
12:00 noon - On my merry way to Freeport. Listen to my voicemail message from Chris. Which I think is going to be him confirming me using my comp ticket for Diane. He tells me that the last 2 performances are CANCELLED. WTF? What? I don't get to play my favorite show again? Not to mention that I'm still owed some money for doing the last show. I scramble to call Diane and tell her not to bother schlepping out to Old Bethpage, return a call to my mother and proceed to sob the rest of the way to Freeport. I also try to call Chris, whose voicemailbox is full.
12:30 p.m. - Make it to Freeport where I find the rehearsal in progress and play along. I play 2 songs and they break for lunch! (Do I have timing or what?)
3:30 p.m. - Finish rehearsal and take Shenique home.
4:15 p.m. - Finally get home and make plans with Diane and Kick to go to a funky restaurant.

We went to this odd restaurant. It's this Chinese restaurant that looks like it was in someone's house. But it had the requisite cheesy vinyl bar and same Chinese menu. I forwent my usual chow fun and got some sizzling something or other that had scallops, chicken and pork. It was pretty good. Since the restaurant looked so old school, I really wanted a Singapore Sling, which contains:

1 1/2 oz gin
1 oz lemon juice
1/4 oz sugar syrup
1 1/2 tsp powdered sugar
2 oz club soda
1/2 oz cherry brandy
lemon slice for garnish
maraschino cherry for garnish

*But alas. No Singapore Sling listed on the menu. They did have a Rob Roy, which sounded neat, but contains:

1 1/2 oz scotch
1/4 oz sweet vermouth
Angostura bitters to taste
maraschino cherry for garnish

Which wasn't really what I was going for. So I wound up ordering a Jack and Coke instead. Which actually hit the spot and was quite tasty. But we had good conversation and enjoyed dinner. We laughed a lot and just relaxed. Grabbed some coffee (and I a peanut butter sundae!) and went back to their house and watched "Curb Your Enthusiasm." All in all, a nice night. Not too shabby.

George and George on an Awful, No-Good, Bad Day
So today was just chaos, chaos at work, running around all aimless like and frustration. But now I'm nestled in after stuffing myself silly with Taco Bell, watching a cute little monkey talk to cows (George #1) and am now listening to George Gershwin. (George #2).

Slowly. Ever so slowly, the bad-ness of the day slips away. What is it about bad days that just linger, like a sheen of something you can't quite rinse off. It just permeates things.

I'm thinking it calls for a peanut butter filled chocolate egg to really banish it away for good. I'm convinced that Easter has the best candy. I mean, chocolate marshmallow filled eggs? Peanut butter filled eggs? Chocolate truffle filled eggs? It just can't get better. And that's not even mentioning those mini eggs that are like big m&ms.

So some chocolate, and then solitaire to properly cleanse my brain of this awful, no-good, bad day.