My first final is tomorrow, and my voice jury. I've been sick, and haven't been practicing as of late to save whatever voice I have left...so the crunch has begun. My birthday was so much fun once the party got rolling. Some friends took me an hour south of Waco to see a drive through Christmas Light display! It was awesome...everything had moving lights, and there was a carousel, and all 12 days of Christmas...and hot chocolate at the end. Anyway -- I need to get back to studying and all that -- but I thought I should blog and let all who read know that I haven't fallen off the face of the planet!

Wow, let me pause a moment to unscrew my smile. Heeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaarrrrghghg. Ok. Better now. I just got done with a recording session for our Christmas Concert PBS premier (set for christmas, 2003). We're being videotaped. So we have to look happy, and joyful, and greatful to be there.

ha. Dr. Bailey looked at the dress rehearsal that they taped to fix problems, and he said it looked like we were chained to the risers. Pretty close. We were just trying to make an acurate portrayal. We recorded in front of an audience, and then locked them in so they couldn't leave for our re-recording of several songs. Ha. When they paid for their tickets, I bet they didn't know they'd be held hostage. I'm sure whoever watched the concert next year will really enjoy it. It will look great, and be very uplifting. Look for me up and to the right of the mezzo soloist smiling away. Looking happy, and joyful and greatful to be there.

Especially during the symphonic pieces that we were, essentially, a curtain to mask the risers. No other reason for us to be there -- we could have filed off and come back on after three movements of Vivaldi, but no. We had ugly risers to mask. So we stood there looking happy, and joyful, and greatful to be there.

Especially on the camera close ups -- the we were positively glowing. At least during the Forest scene from Tchaikowsky's Nutcracker I could envision all of the beautiful dancing. I made up whole ballets this week in dress rehearsals. So, it wasn't too bad tonight...but tomorrow we have to hold the audience longer to make up all the mistakes they find tomorrow in the review of tonight's performance. Oh goodie. (ok, now can we do measure 30-35 of the Sir Krisemas piece...ok that was great..thanks) Oh, and in between concert segments, we have a sing along with the audience. But...someone forgot that WE don't have words in front of us (the concert is memorized). So here we are three verses into "Hark the Herald Angels Sing" -- and the cameras are doing closeups of us going: Hail the ...hm hm....prince of peace...la la la la righteousness....light and life to something bring..........watermellon in his wings......mild he something something by...la la la la hmmmmmm hmmmmmmmmm la la la la la la la la.....HARK THE HERALD ANGELS SING! GLORY TO THE NEWBORN KING! That ought to look wonderful. Ok, I'm going to bed. I have a recital dress to finish for Jen's dress rehearsal tomorrow afternoon. Then I have to head to part two of happy, and joyful, and greatful to be there.

Alright, since my birthday is in 3 days, people have started asking me what I want for it....so I'm going to post a "wish-list" here:

1. coloring books -- my favorites are precious moments ones

2.victorian reproduction die cuts, greeting cards, namecards, punch outs -- anything I can use for my decoupage screen that's sometime in the future.

3.girly stuff -- bubble bath, nail polish, potpourie, candles (vanilla, cinamon, etc), and picture frames, gold or victoriany so I can frame some of the pictures I have of all of you!

4. The Silmarillion -- JRR Tolkien

5.pretty teacups. I love them -- I have them all over my house, and they're all over the place at antique shops and gifty places ....or

6. Of course gift certificates are always nice -- Hobby Lobby is Mecca, and The Compass too -- anyway. So, I've covered my bases for this year...and these are just ideas -- no one needs feel obligated, but I told some people I'd post ideas up...so there!

I've been having my feelings hurt by a friend of mine this semester, and have been mulling over what to do about it. My first reaction was to get irate, yell about how I "deserve" to be treated, list off all the things I've done for him, and then stalk off. Hmm.... then I read this from the book Christy, by Catherine Marshall (and by the way, Miss Alice is a Quaker -- hence the language)

"David, no Christian ever has a right to sever any relationship with anybody out of anger or pique, or even injustice, no matter how much he disapproves of someone's actions. It's our place to demonstrate reconciliation - not judgment or revenge or retaliation. That's God's business, not ours. Beware the chasms in thy life, David. Sooner or later thee will fall down in the chasm thyself. I suggest that you make the poing of talking to Ozias. Extend the hand of friendship. At least try it. After all, David, when the lines of communication are cut so that two people can't even talk, what have you gained then? All you've done is sever what may have been God's only route into a man's heart."

So what is a Christian to do when they are being treated poorly? "Turn the other cheek" comes to mind, but how does one do that without becoming a doormat. And then, should that be a consideration? Do we even get to take into account self? In the case of friendships, we're told that we need to set boundaries, and assert ourself when we perceive that we're being put upon? How does one draw the line? Any comments anyone?

I feel absolutely terrible. Mia sorella e stato simpatica e ora, io sono malata. (ie: My sister was kind enough to give me her school's running cold.) Did she stay sick however? No. In fact last night I hear she was running around in a snowsuit injoying Yakima's first snowfall. Darn it. Me? Sick as a dog. Not anything that one can skip class, or perhaps a choir concert over. Nope. Just walking around hacking up lungs, and blowing my nose every 32 seconds. And to add to the fun, waco temperatures, knowing full well that I'm homesick, decided to rival Yakima upon my return from thanksgiving. And I thought I was being clever when I left a suitcase full of my winter clothes at home so that I wouldn't have to cart them back in two weeks. I miss my hat and scarf too.

On the plus side, I am currently passing all of my classes -- I don't think my GPA is going to be very high. If I do well on finals -- and I do mean all of them, I might be able to keep them all b's -- but I currently have a C+ in Italian -- my lowest grade in a class since Spanish, my freshman year of highschool. I'm not happy. This will probably blow my 3.8 (probably, heck I know it will), and I'll have to make a 4.0 next semester to recover from slacking off this semester....oh did I mention I'm taking 17 hours next semester? Ah well. I'll worry about finals and money first. Then I'll worry about my 4.0 next semester. Ouch. Alright..I have to go finish a recital dress. Talk to you later -- after the recording session from hades tonight

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I hate choir. I don't care how many times I've written "submit yourself to the governing authority" all over my music, I still hate it. We had a three hour rehearsal tonight which stretched its way 29 minutes over. It was horrible....I'm sick, and that didn't help the mood at all. I hate the fact that since we aren't professionals they can take as much time as they want, keep us late, not give us a break (illegal were we paid) and then lecture us when we groan at "just another two minutes" and then threaten to flunk us if our attitude doesn't improve. Oh man am I tired.

On the plus side, opera is over...I'm registered for nearly all the classes I need to graduate, it looks like my independent study may actually go through, my birthday is coming up, and on the 17th I get to fly home. How's that for positive? Alright, I'm going to sleep now. Too tired to write, and I'm our of kleenex. I'm going to have to be creative.

The Christmas decorations are up -- along with three of the four Christmas trees and about a zillion feet of garland. This is my favorite holiday, and I'm leaving it with a new skill -- Becky Logsdon (old family friend) taught me how to knit. Now all I need to do is learn how to tat, and maybe how to weave, and there will be nothing textile related that I won't be able to do. Does 't that sound like fun? Making entire outfits that you've had a hand in, start to finish? I'm still thinking a deserted island or a small self-contained farm in the middle of nowhere would be a good place to test out one's resourcefullness. Someday perhaps. Anyway -- the two days of holiday feasting were wonderful. I didn't eat myself sick, but I savored every bite...who knew turkey was so delicious? And shrimp and stuffing. Oh man. Next gourge opportunity is my birthday -- 9 days and counting! I hope you're having a great holiday! I sure am!

Happy Thanksgiving!!!

The Fourth Wise Man

This is the story of the fouth wise man. His name was Artaban. He set out to follow the star and he took with him a sapphire, a ruby, and a pearl beyond price as gifts for the King. He was riding hard to meet his three friends, Caspar, Melchior, and Balthasar, at the agreed meeting place. The time was short; they would leave if he was late. Suddenly he saw a dim figure on the ground before him. It was a traveller stricken with fever. If he stayed to help he would be too late. He did stay: he helped and healed the man. But now he was alone. He needed camels and bearers to help him across the desert because he had missed his friends and their caravan. He had to sell his sapphire to get them because he had helped the man. and he was sad that the King would never have his gem. So he journeyed and in due time he came to Palestine and to Bethlehem, but again he was too late. Joseph and Mary and the baby had gone. Then there came the soldiers to carry our Herod's command that the children whoudl be slain. Artaban was lodging in a house where there was a little child he had come to love. The tramp of the soldiers was at the door; the weeping of stricken mothers could be heard. Artaban stood in the doorway, tall and dark. He had the ruby in his hand. When the captain came Artaban bribed him with his roby not to enter. The child was saved, the mother was overjoye; but the ruby was gone; and Artaban was sad for, as he thought, the King would never have his roby now. For years he wandered looking for the King. More than thirty years afterwards he came to Jerusalem. There was a crucifixion that day. And when Artaban heard of this Jesus who was being crucified He sounded woundrous like the King. He was going out fo Calvary. Maybe his pearls, the lovliest pearl in all the world could buy the life of the King. Down the street there came a girl fleeing from a band of soldiers. "My father is in debt, " she cried, "and they are taking me to sell me as a slave to pay the debt. Save me!" Artaban hesitated; then sadly he took out his pearl, gave it to the soldiers, bought the girl's freedom, and she was safe. Then on a sudden the skies were dark; there was an earthquake and a flying tile hit Artaban on the head. He sank half-conscious to the ground. The girl pillowed his head on her lap. Suddenly his lips began to move. "Not so, my Lord. For when saw I Thee anhungered and fed Thee? Or thirsty and gave Thee drink? When saw I Thee a stranger, and took Thee in? Or naked and clothed Thee? WHen saw I Thee sick in prison, and came unto Thee? Thirty and three years have I loked for Thee; but I have nver seen Thy face, nor ministered to Thee, my King." And then like a whiper from very far away, there came a low and sweet voice. "Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as thou hast done unto the least of these my brethren, thou hast done it unto me." And Artaban smiled in death because he knew that the King had received his Gifts.