Hello, lovely readers…
The chunk of time between early autum and monsoon season in Portland is so beautiful. The air is crisp, but not too cold, the sun shows itself for a few hours everyday, and it DOESN’T RAIN THAT MUCH. The rain here in Pacific Northwest isn’t the same fat droplets that soak you to the core for and hour that we get back east. It’s the thin, almost misty rain that gets you pretty wet and an umbrella does you no good at all. Thats why even the exectives that work downtown rock the big ol’ Columbia hooded windbreakers over their suits. Burberry? Pshh. It ain’t waterproof.
My recital is three weeks from tomorrow (ACK!) so I’m in total overdrive. I haven’t learned a full recital since grad school, ergo I’m out of practice. At least after this recital, I won’t have my significant other giving me a full critique of his likes and dislikes AT THE RECEPTION. (grr.) Thanks to the ever changing roles of the young artist, I have, however, become very good at memorizing gobs of music at an astonishing rate. Three days later those braincells are murdered by the Hops festivals going around town and I can’t even hum you a tune. That’s neither here nor there.
The second show is fully staged and, as per usual, the rehearsal period has been filled with bad clothing, akward conversation, cluelessness, brilliance, and some of the loudest singing imaginable. Since I like my job, I will not go into any more detail here. If you really want more info, I’ll mime them for you next time we’re together. 
And now I leave you with a haiku:
No motivation, / want to lay around all day, / Can’t til Nov 17.
