I went to the diner to get my birthday wishes :) tonight... and he's not there. Fired they said.
I'm bummed.
I've emailed him and hope he emails back, but he's not done that yet... so he's probably gone forever, unless I run into him at the laundrymat or Albertson's.
Oh well. It was nice while it lasted.
Adios, Ricardo. :(
(BTW, aren't those are cool candles -- look at the color-coordinated glow! They're from The Glow Company in the UK.)
My my, I really have work on this "time" thing -- I'm even late for my own birthday!
It went to bed pretty late but had to get up to see my shrink... man, I hate that, it really screws with my (albeit weird) sleep. I barely made it back without falling sleep somewhere in Hollywood, but took a delicious nap in the afternoon.
[Oh, the best birthday present: after four drafts of our outline for the mini-musical and oodles of hours in meetings in person, on the phone and emails, we got greenlit this morning to move on to the rough draft. YAY! That was also delicious.]
By the time I woke up, my collaborator, bookwriter Myrna, did a down and dirty rough draft of the book, and she and lyricist, Kellen, took me out to an Indian dinner. YUM!
We got back to Kellen's house at 11:30, shot a little footage for the documentary then spotted our songs til 4:00 am... we're pretty much on schedule now and I managed to get a little nauseous because we started talking about the music... my area. The thought of all that responsibility made me a bit crazy, until Myrna assured me we'd all be in all of it together. Thank goodness she and Kellen are so even-keeled and respectful... I'm a bit "wowed" at how well we're working together.
Anyhoo, more on that process later... just wanted to share what this year's birthday was like so I don't forget. Funny thing about birthdays... they're really "just another day" -- and yet they're so, so special, no matter who I spend it with or what I do. I guess it's the one day I get to celebrate ME without any guilt! LOL
It was a wild success -- talk about leaving them wanting more! Ran out of appetizers. (Filipinos don't understand the concept and stuff their plates -- I didn't find out until very late that I couldn't get them french-passed). Ran out of cake. (The hat was mango/mango filling, the jewelry box was mocha/macapuno filling and the hatbox was chocolate/chocolate mousse filling -- and everyone wanted more than one piece!) The fashion show with my mom's clothes over 50 years was a smash... and people just hung out and hung out!
Mom looks great, doesn't she?
It's almost been a week and I'm just now getting back to "normal." I learned a lot this time around... for what I envisioned and what I actually executed... oh, I gotta stop it beating myself up for what it wasn't... thing is, I get my perfectionism from my mother...
Oh heck: It was lovely!!!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM! :)
So I just came back from the diner... and yakked all night with Ricardo (from Guadalajara, which is where this "sun" is from)...
Read hands. Had fun! Exhausted because of stuff to do for Mom's party, but envigorated from the reading... felt like I was back in my own skin again, finally. Gotta do that more often!
Hasta luego-- :)
It must be that full moon again.
Went to the Pisces full moon meditation tonight and ended up going out to Hollywood and eating outside on picnic benches with Maria at a tasty (and packed) Mexican food stand, El Gran, on Santa Monica and Vermont... wow, cheap and delicious! How fun was that.
But Pisces being Pisces... fluid, dreamy, nebulous, vast... I had to come home to do some composing for the next assignment. Looking for music in a ballroom setting (1700-1800s or so), and ended up at YouTube watching the Cinderella of my childhood and her Prince, Stuart Damon.
Wow, could not stop crying... I love this song... and whatever it is that it brings up in me...
A quick aside -- almost 20 years ago I was at a "meeting" of sorts and ended up sitting next to an older Stuart Damon... and we had to hold hands for a few minutes... and I remember thinking to myself, "My God, I'm holding hands with fucking PRINCE CHARMING!" hehehe How did he get away from me?! -- or rather, where is he now?!?!?
Of course, without realizing it, my idea of a "Prince" was formed by seeing this version of Cinderella and Mr. Damon. But I can't let go of Paolo Montalban either (I wrote about him ad infinitum already) but of course, I have to put his version here also.
I never ever believed a Prince -- or a love -- could be Filipino. Until I saw that.
===
Or maybe it's just that I love that song... AHA AHA Rodgers and Hammerstein! And I do love those tenors.
Help.
Lastly, today... here's a gift my brother, Mike, shared with me. George Harrison being channeled by ukelele virtuoso, Jake Shimabukuro.
Tonight the guitar, ukelele and I -- we all weep.
Edited: 3/5 to include:
To bring it all together and talking about PRINCES, check out the PRINCE lick at the end... it's a tribute on VH1 to George Harrison with Tom Petty and others, and even George's son (his doppelganger!) is on stage too (can't miss him). PRINCE KICKS ASS!
I can't believe my nine-year-old nephew Kevin turned me on to this video -- it's on his MySpace (where he says he's 16...)!
First, here's the finished product: "White and Nerdy"
But it's THIS GREEN SCREEN I found today that has me ROTFLMAO....
Wait til the end... Donny's in good shape for a soon-to-be 50-year-old man, I CAN'T KEEP MY EYES OFF OF HIM!!!
Wow, what a night!
Just got back from the MBar in Hollywood where the Academy of New Musical Theatre had the final class of the Performer's Workshop. These performers were also introduced to some of the pieces written for by the Specialty Music Workshop folks that I "accidentally" (?) got into -- I thought it was just another free class, when at the end of the first Saturday, they said "Composers, please stand." So I did. Then: "Lyricists, go get yourself a composer and start writing!"
When they asked for music, I wanted to turn in the song I'd already written wrote for my writing class, "Elephant Man" exercise. The lyricist, Patricia Zehentmayr, agreed, and off it went through the selection process... and three people liked it and considered it for their set! Three months later I find out... yay! It's still in the program!
And boy did we luck out -- Sylvin Janson was terrific! Truly, one of the strongest performers there, and for my money (she said modestly), he had the best set of all. He walked on there with the confidence that many of the "newer" performers lacked, so immediately, the audience (and my guests and me!) relaxed.
My concern about the song was that it wouldn't work outside the context of "Elephant Man" -- that was what the majority of the notes we were given brought up. "It's haunting, but what does it mean?" Short of completely rewriting it -- well, we did nothing. I crossed my fingers very tightly walking into the venue tonight.
But one of the first people I see is Sylvin. He comes up with a huge hug and I tell him I'm so happy he's doing it. He says he loves it, and based his whole set on it! I gulp. I have no idea what to expect -- except that I know it will be sung well.
Well who knew the guy was a writer too? The "patter" between his songs and their set-ups were handled by an absolute pro... talking about dreaming, illusions, dog walking, paint ("The FUMES!" :)... and to finally end on "Illusion Ends" -- he did more with it than I could ever have imagined. His whole lead-in to the song was beautiful and profound, and absolutely smooth from what came before.
I was so proud -- of me, of Patricia, of the Academy, of Sylvin... my "baptism by fire" could not have ended better. I told him after the show he did wonders, I was so happy, and heck yeah, I want to work with him again! He said over and over that he loves it... what a great feeling that it is for me! I'm finding out that's how these colloborations work... this was a great one.
Now I'm going to write him a thank you note -- and tell GO FORTH and make us lots of money! LOL
Thanks again, Sylvin... you made me forget that I thought I was a crappy composer. Not one muscle or blood cell in me believes that anymore.
===
EDITED 2/22: A note from Elise, the Associate Artistic Director, to the writers included this:
Sly also did a really lovely job on "The Illusion Ends". I’m so glad you (Patricia) made it just in time to hear Sly’s haunting delivery – and congrats also to Madley. What a gorgeous song. And Sly’s set-up made it all make so much sense in context. I heard several people around me saying "What a beautiful song!"
Beautiful?! Wow, BEAUTIFUL!!! A word I've ached to hear regarding... anything.
Feeling so grateful right now...
===
EDITED 2/23: A note from Patricia, our lyricist; EDITED 3/18 to remove names:
I got feedback from [SNIP] who all said ours was the best song in the show! [SNIP] They said Sylvin was the best performer.
OMG, this is real! There were mighty big folk at this show.... gulp, gulp... :)
===
EDITED: 3/16 because you've been asking:
Illusion Ends
I'm so used to getting my energy up at 9:00 pm and going to bed around 6:00 or 7:00 am -- I sit at my computer and actually do creative work (music, web stuff, etc.). But today I got up early because I had a checklist of things to work on... and now at 3:35 am THIS GIRL IS FRIED.
Of course I had to get something to eat, but because I'm feeling lousy and alone and not immersed in work, it was all comfort food at the coffee shop -- did I mention the chocolate milk, the ice water for chewing and the mint I'm sucking on now? The thought of all that grosses me out and I'm hardly comforted.
Maybe I had to get over Valentine's Day... ah, The Great Debate. "My choices have been fine in life," "If I was meant to have kids, I'd already had them," "You're an artist and healer, love must mean something else to you."
Bullshit.
I feel like hell, I'm wired beyond belief with the amount of work I've been doing (good work, not schlocky shit!) and I'm just plain lonely.
Yuck.
Have been waiting all day to hear the news about my Uncle Tim Medina -- Mom and Dad went with his wife to the hospital at 1:00 am this morning because he was unresponsive to her touch... They called me at 8:50 and 9:00 am this morning and EVERYONE who knows me knows I am VERY ASLEEP at that time of the morning so when I heard the phone ring, I assume it's not good news. But I couldn't reach them.
Uncle Tim and Auntie Li are my parents closest friends nowadays. They live about 1/4 mile from each other and have been having fun during their retirement years, gambling, travelling, playing poker. They both even played along with me to make a mini-video for my parents 45th anniversary. (Click on the photo and take a gander, they're so sweet!)
After getting a zillion busy signals, I finally reach my mom.
"It's been busy for a half an hour, Mom."
"Oh, everyone's calling because of Tim."
"So... how is he?"
"He's okay, honey. Just a mild stroke. He knows your Auntie Li's name and his sister's name, but he didn't know ours. But that's okay. He's able to get up, he's just a little confused right now. The doctor asked him how tall he was and he said 7'6" -- and of course, Auntie Li jumped in and said, "Honey, you're not a basketball player!"
Mom said they stayed with them from 1:00 to 9:00 am until some of their family could come, and when they went back to the hospital in the evening, the place was packed. Uncle Tim will be celebrating his 80th birthday this year, a few months after Mom does... lots of people are there to wish him and apparently he's going to be okay for awhile.
That's good, good news. I just didn't want to hear that another uncle had gone.
And I'm right in the middle of planning a big birthday bash for Mom's 80th on March 24... everything is just getting so "mortal" right now...
I'll write again about me and my "musical" music sometime... just feeling blue and under the weather. I've been so stressed at the amount of web work I have to do, plus music to write my head is spinning. I've got to learn how to shut it all off without eating like a horse or drinking like fish or my body is going to scream.
It's been two days and I'm still recovering from the Krew Konvention weekend here in L.A. -- two Stars on Ice shows, a fantastic program "Too Darn Hot", many meals, brunch with His Krewness and a lovely run-in with his mom and sis.
All after five years of not being in touch at all.
Yes, still need recovery. My head is spinning.
Oh gosh, I'm only 10% awake... good riddance on the typing.
Just woke up in my new desk chair having dreamed up a whole summer camp musical type thing... it was written, rehearsed and all performed while I've been sitting here asleep... probably isnpired by Dreamgirls last night...
The Big G.A. was in it (you know, the 4th grade crush boy)... and I was trying to get kids interested in being in it... Lots of dancers/singers... like "Grease" last night too... interviewing people in now... it's a "phenomenon"... wish I could remember...
Last yesterday late afternoon as I was walking to the car after finally buying a new cell phone (YAY!), I saw the hugest full moon in the sky starting to rise of the Glendale hills.
Wow, it was beautiful.
I had had the Full Moon Meditation on my calendar, but following with my new "guiding principle" of the year, I didn't RSVP to go so as not to disappoint anyone if I decided I didn't want to go. What's the principle?
"Promise nothing -- deliver everything."
But after seeing the moon -- hell, I all of a sudden felt tons better and called and headed out there, I didn't want to be anywhere else. You see, I LOVE THE MOON. It has always been something beautiful for me, and this year, I knew as I was trying to grow up from "helpless maiden" to "grown woman" that this symbol and meditation would be right up my alley.
Well, little did I know that in Esoteric Astrology... um...
THE MOON IS DEAD. hahahahahaah
I'm sorry, I can't stop laughing at that! The reason the moon is so full is because we're getting the full reflection of the SUN'S power, and NOTHING from the moon. hehehe I've been "worshipping" a big ball of nothing! hahahaha Just goes to show me how fleeting beliefs and ideas can be... and everything is still a-okay.
I've had it.
I don't know why, but those are the three words that come to mind for this morning, the first day of 2007.
First of all though, I have to say I had a GREAT TIME this Christmas because my brother and his wife and daughter all came up from San Diego. And even though there's only me and my two brothers, when all three of us are "home" with our respective families... well, I couldn't be in a more joyous space. I love seeing my nieces and nephews together and my sister-in-laws sitting at the table and my parents hardly talking, just loving being around us! And it was great fun "camping out" with the San Diego gang... I haven't lived with my brother and my parents like that since... forever. I really enjoyed myself and even got the best present (that I put on hold HAHAHA during Thanksgiving) -- A SEWING MACHINE! I haven't had one in years and now I feel complete! LOL
Things were winding up in 2006 on a weird note though... I was supposed to leave from the Bay Area back to LA Saturday, after both my parents and my brother and his family left the house. But I couldn't get up. My body wouldn't let me do it... I was just feeling... sleepy. So I slept for hours on end, only waking to eat or start watching a show on TV. Fortunately half my car was packed, so when I finally got on the road I wasn't too tired. Remember, I'm the one who falls asleep while driving long hours in the sun... and I didn't fail myself hauling down Interstate 5. Three short naps though, is all I allowed myself (15-20 minutes) and a couple of rest stop breaks. I did good time, enough that I could still get to my appointment at 8pm in Corona (an hour away) for a New Year's party I was supposed to read hands at.
But coming down the last 50 miles through the Grapevine... I started feeling sick. Like my throat was acting up and I was starting to get a cold. I made a note: take some Airborne as soon as you get home.
I pull in, park all cockamamie because I need to unload my car -- and my key won't turn the lock in my front door. HUH? I try it again, both the dead bolt and the doorknob -- nothing. HMmmm. Has my ex been here over the break? Or worse, my landlord? Did I pay my rent? Yes. Was there an emergency, like plumbing or something? Shit, I hope not.
Tick-tick-tick... I go to the back bathroom window, which is fortunately still cracked open, and open it all the way. There's no frickin' way I can hop that window. So I get the box containing the new sewing machine out and try to step on it. Fortunately it's a strong box, but I'm STILL not going to get up into that window -- and last I recall I almost killed myself doing it last time. Hm. Terrible time to have a dead cell phone.
Hm... okay, Plan B. Go across the street where some kids are playing. Ask them to ask their dad/uncle if they can help me get into the window and I'll give them ten dollars. Uncle says in Spanish he doesn't want to get in trouble if I'm not the owner of the house. I just look panicked and say I am, and all three of them -- Jesus, Jose and Alberto -- come over. Jesus, the 10-year old, climbs up the bathroom but cannot open the front door. Oh dear. In goes 8 year old Jose, followed by Uncle/Dad Alberto. Geez, my apartment is a mess, but at this point I don't care. They got my tools out of the tool box and pound the doorknob out of the door, and squeeze the latch out with a screwdriver. Success! Or is it? Now I have a big gaping hole in my door and I can only get out with a screwdriver. UGH.
Anyway, rush rush... I AM LATE. Should I just cancel? Not show? Call the lady that booked me to run interference? I already know it's going to be a trying party... it's a "family" party of 65... that means kids. It's in Corona, so it's not hoity-toity... oh Jeez, just drive.
After I drop off $10 to the kids across the street, I'm on my way, and of course miss a big turn off and take myself at least 10 miles out of the way. When did the 210 become a long freeway to San Bernadino??!? Shit.
I show up, yes, I'm 45 minutes late. The host seems to be okay and sets me up right away in a quiet room, away from the screaming kinds and the adults with the hookah. There's apparently a list so I don't have chase anyone down for readings. I get water, swallow hard and start.
I know I'm booked for 2-3 hours, so I keep going until it's midnight, and for the first time even get translated into Arabic for a grandma. the youngest was an eight year old... so sweet, these kids, and refreshing too. But right after all the 12:00 yelling, I start looking for the host. I've done three hours and want to try to find out how to proceed. Should I continue and finish the list? Is this fine? What about payment?
I'm asking and asking for her, every one person that comes in. Everyone says they're getting her, but she never shows up because "she's holding a kid." Oh dear, this is trouble, I can feel it. The host then sends in her husband, a scary, double-thick eyebrowed man with a Napoleon complex who has had a few too many to drink. This is really going to bad.
He cuts in line from somebody else and sticks out his hand. I sit him down -- and earthy guy at that, not responsive. He says, "That's it?" Fuck, I'm defensive. I ask if he has any questions. You came at 10, right? he says. I say, no, 8:50. He says he'll ask his wife. Then he says, how much? I say your wife negotiated for $100/hour, and it's been three, almost four. "For that?" he says. OH FUCK, I think. I even count out the cards of how many people I've read [and helped!] that night -- he's not impressed.
He sticks his hand out again, and now I'm looking and shitting bricks, trying to find anything that he might relate to. Normally, I can find something for anyone, but this guy was falling asleep and drunk. Miserable... he's miserable and I'm miserable times 3.
So he stumbles out and I hear the big fuck say "It's bullshit" as some 10-year old walks in eager as anything at 12:45 am. I send her out afterwards to get the Mom. Then I send the NEXT one out to get the mom. And the NEXT.
Finally, it's 1:15 and I turn my light off and go to the bathroom -- and Mom and Dad come in. He won't look at me but says what do I owe you. I buck up: "I was here from 9 and it's 1:15 now. So that's $400. He says "$400?" The wife is says, yes, she's been here all that time. He says louder, "$400?" I say I was a little late, so I can give it to you to $350. He shoots the wife a shitty look and she caves: Okay, $300 is enough. You weren't able to read all of us."
Yes, that was true, so I say that will be fine, and smile as gloriously as I can, take the three $100 bills he practically throws at me, saying thank you and packing my shit up as fast as I can. She and I are able to say a polite thank you and good night as I take off into the night.
===
I'm home now, freezing because my space heater died before I left for vacation and although I was anxious to get into my electric blanket, I had to type this out so I wouldn't forget it. I felt so lousy all night, with that asshole saying "it's bullshit" but I have to remember I helped and entertained a lot of people tonight. I worked my throat off and I did good.
And tomorrow I'm going to have a lot of fun spending that hard-earned dough on a delicious new cell phone to get rid of the taste of the evening tonight. I'll think about that the whole time I'm cuddled up watching the Rose Parade, finally enjoying the new year.
When I was a little very little (2? 3?) my godmother, Tita Sol, told me I used to stand in front of the TV pretending to conduct music, right there along with Mitch Miller. She loved that... she even taught me my first song, "More" -- that standard by Frank Sinatra! No nursery rhymes for me, in any language, I had to have the "real stuff"... Little did I know I would be so involved in music growing up (high school), and so crappy as a conductor in college (the first time around), and then be back to it again later in life. I obviously lost the cojones I had when I was this little girl's age. Oh, where is she now?! (Me, not her.)
I just found out my other godfather, Tito Tony, died last Thursday, so I'm going to San Diego and meeting my family to attend all the... everythings. So, so sad... he will be missed. Christmas this year is already bittersweet.
Hello all,
I’ve met with my advisor and we’ve decided that there is a great deal that is promising in the music I've presented.
The program is an ambitious one and will need, in his professional opinion, a period of time for work and refinement.
We haven’t given that period of time an end date yet because he would like me to concentrate more on my creative process than on a calendar.
Any plans for this November are off and we will see how my creative process goes.
I am very happy with this outcome right now and know that I am on the right path with this music.
Thanks everybody for your continued support.
Madley (née Sheila)
It was 82 degrees outside today, the first day of Daylights Savings Time... I've got a lot of nerve talking about rain.
(Yes, God, I'm grateful for where I live :)
Raindrops on roses...
I used to think rain was God having himself a good cry, for whatever reason God would need to have a good cry. It happens so rarely in my life that I would be happy for those rains... and it had to be for good because the next day, especially obvious in L.A., the sky would be beautiful. Clean, clear, crisp, fresh. Days like that are even more rare than the rain days, and I feel really "connected" to all that is greater than me.
Tonight I had a good, good, earth-shattering cry. Release and a cleansing... a knowing. And tomorrow... a clean sky.
I finally got my jury date today for my November 28 recital, after weeks of asking for it... I knew it was coming. Today confirmed -- Halloween at 3:30 in Prof Myers office.
My nerves are shot. I can't calm myself down.
So I call for down-to-earth support... and got exactly what I needed.
"Remember Ilia at Nagano. Mental discipline. Ten days of focussing on being focussed, to push the fear out, to get rid of the nerves. Be a machine. You can do it. Focus on being focussed."
So I have my notebook. I'm focussed, because the only other choice is fear, and complete breakdown. I put this picture of him the second he finished his winning long program right at my desk/piano. Thanks, Nancy -- thanks, Kulik.
Just because...
I saw this program being created in the summer of 1998 almost daily through the viewfinder of Ilia's video recorder. He didn't have a coach at that time and wanted to review his practices... how lucky was I?
Yes, THAT lucky.
Oh, and here's one nice piece from 1998:
Enjoy!
Okay, that's not really his entire last name, but it's part of it! LOL
===
Oh jeez, I'm SO FRIED and yes, Andrew, I almost COMPLETELY forgot to eat today because it was my first day back of class at the Academy. We were supposed to have met with our groups (check :) and as a composer I was supposed to have four sketches based on Oscar Wilde's "Lady Windermere's Fan" (um... no check).
I was so stressed out that I was only bringing in one of the four -- frickin' perfectionist that I am, had one done that was -- how do you say, DA BOMB -- but nada on the others. But because of my "honest outburst" at the beginning of class (I said if I were on Top Chef, I would've gotten me and my collaborators eliminated :( and my polite asking at break, we got a reprieve until tomorrow night. WHEW!
Pero ahorita mi cerebro esta CANSADO.
I'm fried... learned that from my new friend at Harry's (Diner). Handsome food server de Mexico who's fun to flirt with when I need some kind and gentle, yet male energy. :) Yo puedo practicar mi español y he gets to serve me food! :) He works two other jobs, one being mortgage loan stuff (yeah, I have stuff to learn there!) -- can I just say that AMBITION is nice on this soccer dad -- and he gave me his card. :)
A sight for aching eyes, and getting Oscar Wilde out of my head tonight... ¡hasta mañana!
I'm so bummed -- I missed the bank. I knew lack of sleep last night, added to exercising with Andrew means I would take an afternoon nap, but I didn't think I'd go for two hours. Ugh.
But what was weird was that I was having one of those "Pay attention, this is a LESSON dream" dreams... and I have to write it down now before I forget the dream AND the lesson.
===
I don't when this was, but I was still living in this apartment, and yessirreebob, it still was a wreck. And Yvette and Tyler were still alive! I don't know where they came from but they were really sweet and I was ecstatic to have them back... until ANOTHER sheltie and ANOTHER pug came out of the woodwork somewher and I had FOUR dogs in this teeny, tiny place. I was really upset because I couldn't love them all equally until I could figure out which were MY REAL DOGS. I walked them and looked for clues, but it was so subtle... I hated it.
So I'm in the house feeding this melange of animals, and all of a sudden I hear a knock at the locked but open security door. "It's me, Tillman -- can we come in?"
"No, damnit! I told you, no one comes into this mess ever, it's fucking embarrassing... DON'T."
But it was too late, and there was Tillman F. from freshman year at college walking in. Damn I wish I could remember his last name so I can google him... I just sent an email to my college roommate Betty, hopefully she'll remember :) Tall, (over 6') handsome, and very British -- I have one picture of him somewhere at a Halloween party at a dorm party where you're supposed to dress like your roommate... we're holding drinks and I'm sure we're both smashed... I can't remember the night as much as I remember that picture... I wonder where the hell that is... I also remember I saw Rocky Horror for the firs time that year on campus and he was dressed as the Tim Curry character in fishnets, etc... and I seriously didn't know what going on. That was quite a phenonemon for a kid from a middle class, mixed neighborhood.
Anyhoo, Tillman walked in, didn't care aobut the house and came up and hugged and kissed me quite warmly. Funny, I knew it was Tillman, but he sounded and acted like Hugh Jackman, with a kick-ass Aussie accent. That's okay... not so bad! Hugh Jackman as Rocky Horror... oh, I digress.
In followed his mother, his father, his sister, her boyfriend, a crazy brother and a girlfriend, all casually dressed because they were in traveling mode.
Wait. I thought I was the girlfriend. But no, she was a hometown girl in Australian -- and the feeling of around was pretty sad... and anticipatory, as they were all anxious to get in their shuttle van and catch the flight home.
We all went outside into the driveway and people kept themselves busy... someone took a tour of a cemetary, somebody was playing frisbee with the four dogs, and The Girlfriend let us have time together. That was weird. It felt like he was my boyfriend... everyone knew it, and didn't care, including The Girlfriend. But I guess she knew Tillman had decided to go home to his life with her and it was killing me. Fortunately, she wasn't one to gloat, and he was in his last throes of saying goodbye.
We finally gathered into the van... on the way to the beautiful International airport that always shows up in my dreams (it's NOT LAX for sure) and got out wandered around. More waiting, more hugging from him and sad, sad kisses. But I couldn't get him to stay, as much as he loved me... he needed to go home. It was like I was the affair or Other Woman, everyone knew it but were okay because they liked me and knew the inevitable outcome. So most were tippy-toeing around us.
It felt really good to be wanted like that, even though it was another airport scene (i.e. Parrish!) and I was devastated. Finally he snuck me into an elevator so we could be alone -- sorta. Some Filipino (younger) lady got in there too, just staring away and I remember the irony of that -- but he didn't care. More hugging and kissing and tears... and acceptance... so, so strange. I'm half-awake watching this dream and thinking Why the hell am I dreaming about TILLMAN?
Then we have to go back to the gate area. I begged him... please, please stay with me. I'll be anything you want... just stay. I can't bear missing you, I won't survive.
Finally, he said it. "I love you, you know that, and I always will. And I don't want you to change, I want you to be who you are. But I'm going to go home and be with her. She's different and I need that -- she's a grown-up."
GULP.
DOUBLE GULP.
But before I could react to him... he said, "All is not lost though. I have somebody I want you to meet and I think you two might get along."
It was Tillman's twin... only now he really looked like Hugh Jackman (or maybe I'm more awake and I'm crossing my fingers and toes). And he was dressed very -- grown-up -- not in a suit or tux, but in adult clothes. So much so that I knew HE could be an adult and I could be -- well, adult too, but not force myself to be "the structured one."
Oh my goodness.
I smiled a big smile as we shook hands... and I knew I was in a good, hopeful place. And in real, waking life, I knew I had to GROW UP if I was going to ATTRACT that too...
Ah, that was the lesson. Now, on to find that picture of Tillman...
SAVE THE DATE: My Final Recital
... and the beginning of a new chapter! :)
Dearest family and dear, dear friends,
It's all systems "GO" for the Sheila S./Madley K. Senior Composition Recital to receive my B.A. in Music.
Please save the date:
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
7:30 pm
Occidental College's Herrick Chapel
Los Angeles (Eagle Rock)
(Anyone know of a local grad student or semi-professional who might be willing to conduct an award-winning 7-9 minute chamber orchestra piece, please point them my way asap!)
Invite to follow -- YAHOOEY!
Sheila/Madley
===
Took forever to send that out to my nearest and dearest, BUT IT'S BEEN SENT! YAY!
More importantly, I have a RECITAL DATE, the huge campus chapel and a potential Jury date end of October.
Good old Norm, my therapist, really nailed me on "trying to look good by going to therapy but not doing the work -- especially when you are one of the most CAPABLE people I know."
Wow. For once, I really heard that, from someone strong and firm, objective, who's feelings I wouldn't be afraid of hurting if I had a visceral reaction to that statement (which I did) -- and had no agenda except for my best interests.
I was thrown -- I told him I couldn't agree 100% with that statement and that 85% was more true. "I wouldn't have been where I am now, looking at the hardest time of my life, if I hadn't been in therapy at all."
And yet he was right, I needed to seriously STEP IT UP, because my very firm agreement with him was that I would (1) either finish the recital by December 31, 2006 (a date I choose carefully), or (2) let it go forever and GET ON WITH MY LIFE.
I'm choosing to finish it, and today, two days after booking everything and having my first meeting with my composition prof -- it's REAL and THERE'S NO WAY IN HELL IT'S NOT HAPPENING.
For my jury there are going to be NO SURPRISES. I've been through this before! And getting my B.A. is only a step on the way through to the rest of my life.
WHEW. It feels good to say that.
Next -- catch up with all the events I've been to lately -- most recently (Sept 26) -- The Contender finale at the Staples Center -- GO GRADY!
She told me this weekend she had a dream that her daughter called to tell her she and her husband were pregnant -- before her older brother and HIS wife were.
I just told Diane I'd log it here so we could see if that prediction was going to come through... maybe D's psychic! :)
(... because I'm so behind with these posts...)
Born out of necessity (couldn't afford the gym fee) but now it's actual goal: today I started training with Andrew for my first 5K!
Can't believe it... but today wasn't too bad. Remember, I did run 12 miles a week at one time... well, 23 years ago with a trainer who held my hand down to get me not be embarassed and run (it worked!).
It's gonna be in Dec or January... right after I GRADUATE so I have another goal and I don't just fall into depression...
Looking forward to this!
