So Saddam is now dead. Big fucking whoop. I wish they would all stop gloating about it. So he died with "fear on his face". So he's a "broken man". Yeah, he deserved what he got, but it's not like any of that fixes anything that's wrong in Iraq, and frankly, I find such commentary makes me feel ill. If we're going to have highly publicized state-sponsored executions, the least we can do is just let them die and move on, without the endless descriptions and self-satisfaction.

I probably shouldn't post this, but sometimes things need an outlet.
There's very little I've ever regretted in my life, if anything. I once told that to someone, and the response I got was "well then you haven't really lived yet." Honestly, I think that's complete bullshit; just because stuff happens in life that really sucks, it doesn't mean that one can't take it philosophically, and not waste themselves on feelings that have no real value. What's done is done, has always been my view, and no sense mourning it. I gotta admit though, I think I've finally done or said some things I regret, and it pains me. It's kind of odd, since I've never really felt that. Wistful, yes, and often sadly reminiscent of certain idyllic times or places, and perhaps sometimes all of the "should haves" pile up for a bit; but nothing quite like this. I feel like I needlessly lost someone very close to me, and I think it's definitely my own damn fault. I suppose this will allow me to deal with these situations with much greater wisdom in the future, but it doesn't change the fact that, if nothing changes, it's likely I will always regret what happened. Then again, maybe in the not-too-distant future, I will be able to say "and that too has passed". At least a man can hope.
Yeah, cryptic. Maybe some who read this will know what I'm talking about. If no one else has any idea, I don't really care.

On the lighter side of things, I've been getting more gigs lately. Just today I was offered a gig to fill in for this cellist with a small musical theater group (at least that's what I think it is). I'll have to sight-read some 3 hours of music, but hell, it should be fun. And I got a Christmas Eve gig at some church across town. And VSA Wisconsin wants me to play at some conference of theres. And the Madison Symphony is having me sub for two concerts. And I'm playing the Vivaldi double concerto at my old high school this Wednesday, with a talented young cellist, and getting paid; something I would have done for free if asked, but I'm not one to turn down money that's offered. So yeah, my schedule's filling up, and frankly, I'm happy about it.

So I'm back home in Madison now. Overall my trip was success, despite failing to distinguish myself in any way in front of the teachers for whom I was playing. I wasn't able to practice in Wayne's apartment during the morning before my lessons, so when I played for Colin Carr I was completely not warmed up; moreover I had just walked 6 blocks in the cold (wanted to see more of the city), and, worst of all, I had to play for him in a dressing room with only a tiny chair to sit on (tiny for me anyways). It was, as they say, an unmitigated disaster, but thankfully, I will still have my audition to impress him. I'm sure he will marvel at my apparent progress by then. I didn't play much better at my lesson for Eddy, but hell, we've known each other for a couple years now and I've played for him a number of times, so it's ok, and again, I will actually have TWO tries for him (both Juilliard and Mannes). As for Lesser . . . I again did not distinguish myself, as I hadn't practiced much in 4 days (road tripping does that), but it doesn't matter, since he's now out of the picture, since I had the weirdest lesson ever with him. At the least, I learned on this trip that I WON'T be driving out for any auditions (except Indiana, since it's close by comparison), since it wreaks havoc with my chops. Good to know.
Strangely, I woke up at 7:30 this morning, despite not getting to bed until 1, and being completely exhausted after coming home yesterday. I was hoping to sleep until 10 or 11, but no dice, I guess. Maybe tomorrow . . .
Picked up a Christmas eve gig, which is good, cause I need the money.

So I'm on the last leg of my journey, will be back in Madison tomorrow. Had a great time in Rochester, hope to be back sometime. I must admit though, I'm definitely looking forward to being home. Eddy gave me some really great technical concepts to work on, and I'm anxious to get some quality practice time. Now that I know where I want to go to school (either Juilliard or Mannes), I have to make sure I have an amazing audition at one or both places. A little incentive for me to work harder than I have been.

So now I'm writing from Wayne's computer in NYC. It's morning and I have nothing to do until 12:45, when I'm meeting with the Stony Brook cello professor at Alice Tully Hall, and I can't practice, since his two roommates are still ostensibly asleep. I'm definitely already catching glimpses of what people love about this city, despite having seen very little of it as of yet (it was very dark and cloudy when I drove in last night). We were out at 10:45, having just finished practicing for a while over at Mannes, and the streets were still so busy, with so many folks out manning fruit stands and newspaper stands and whatnot. So different from Rochester, and definitely quite different from even Madison, where the downtown only really comes alive on Friday and Saturday nights. It's very cold and windy outside, so it's unlikely that I'll be wandering around much, outside of going from Juilliard to Mannes and then back here. And then I'll be leaving at 6:30 or so to drive to Boston; really just a quick stop and then gone. Which is fine, since I'll have to be back for auditions.
I'm thinking I'll be in Rochester Sunday evening, and staying all day Monday, and leaving after lunch on Tuesday; at least that's what Im planning as of now. We'll see if it actually works out that way.

Crazy weekend. Saturday night, me and a friend went to the bar at 11, stayed until 1, drank a good bit, and walked back to his place. I tried to crash there, since at the time I was too drunk to get home, but his roommates were up making all sorts of noise, so I was still awake at around 4 AM, at which time I figured I could drive home. SO I got to bed around 4:30, and had to get up at 7 the next day to coach chamber music. Then the following night (last night) there was a party at aforementioned friend's house, so I went, got shitfaced, hit the sack at around 3AM or so, crashed again, and got maybe 6 hours of sleep. So now I'm dead tired, still nursing a bit of a hangover, and just about ready to keel over. But frankly I needed it, I was made aware of something rather disconcerting last week, and frankly this time getting really drunk actually helped my mood about that a bit. Yeah. Alcohol=therapy.