Sang "Voi che sapete" in Vocal Performance class today. I remembered the words this time around and my pitch and breath support were better, but it was bizarrely impossible to sing in character. Hence the subject line.
It seems I can't do anything halfway nowadays. Oh no, I can't just become a bit more interested in Les Mis; I have to stay up till 3am thoroughly sticky-noting the Brick. (Oh dear. "To sticky-note" really should not be a verb, especially one with a 1500-bloody-page book as its object.) It now has a little yellow halo going 3/4 of the way around it and a piece of paper shoved in the back with fanfiction ideas scribbled across it. And likewise, I can't just move from being boyish to being one giant gender muddle; I have to snap like a slingshot back into a strange affinity for swishy skirts, corsets, lace gloves, and unforgivable abuses of eyeliner.
Oh yeah. And then there's work. Standing up for four hours at a stretch actually isn't so bad when I consider that in two days I've earned back all the money I've spent on ebay this semester. It's actually very nice: although I'm still relying on my parents to fund my education, I'm no longer actively begging them for cash. And I can spend my money on what I want, not silly little details like rent and food, so I'm spending away in order to have plenty of fripperies already bought when I actually have to support myself. (Translation: I've found an excuse to blow lots and lots of money on pretty clothes and be deplorably, gloriously shallow.)
Also, cash flow = money to spend on groceries and Chinese food = no more cafeteria food yay. I actually wouldn't be surprised if I've built up a resistance to small incidents of allergen cross-contamination, because there's absolutely no way I've gone through over a year here without some incident of cheese getting on my food without me knowing. The cafeteria's too squalid for it not to happen.
It seems I can't do anything halfway nowadays. Oh no, I can't just become a bit more interested in Les Mis; I have to stay up till 3am thoroughly sticky-noting the Brick. (Oh dear. "To sticky-note" really should not be a verb, especially one with a 1500-bloody-page book as its object.) It now has a little yellow halo going 3/4 of the way around it and a piece of paper shoved in the back with fanfiction ideas scribbled across it. And likewise, I can't just move from being boyish to being one giant gender muddle; I have to snap like a slingshot back into a strange affinity for swishy skirts, corsets, lace gloves, and unforgivable abuses of eyeliner.
Oh yeah. And then there's work. Standing up for four hours at a stretch actually isn't so bad when I consider that in two days I've earned back all the money I've spent on ebay this semester. It's actually very nice: although I'm still relying on my parents to fund my education, I'm no longer actively begging them for cash. And I can spend my money on what I want, not silly little details like rent and food, so I'm spending away in order to have plenty of fripperies already bought when I actually have to support myself. (Translation: I've found an excuse to blow lots and lots of money on pretty clothes and be deplorably, gloriously shallow.)
Also, cash flow = money to spend on groceries and Chinese food = no more cafeteria food yay. I actually wouldn't be surprised if I've built up a resistance to small incidents of allergen cross-contamination, because there's absolutely no way I've gone through over a year here without some incident of cheese getting on my food without me knowing. The cafeteria's too squalid for it not to happen.
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