Four weeks in and all is well

Happy Fourth Week of Advent! While that is enough to celebrate in and of itself (well, mostly because it means Christmas is nearly here), this year there is extra reason to rejoice (ok, maybe this would have been more appropriate last Sunday... lol). Today marks the fourth Sunday that the new translation of the Roman Missal has been used throughout the English-speaking Catholic world.

I have been excited about the new translation for over a year and a half after attending a workshop for musicians. As someone who has studied Latin (not that much, but enough to know the Mass parts) and also knows the Mass in Hungarian along with understanding enough Spanish, French, Italian, and German to follow along some what, it was easy to see how great of a gift these translations would be for our Church. Compared to the languages listed, the English one was hardly an accurate translation of the Latin. "And also with you" does not translate to "Et cum spiritu tuo" like "Es a te lelkeddel" or "Und mit deinem Geiste" or "E con il tuo spirito." Conversely, "And with your spirit" as in the new translation is a perfect fit. I don't know a word of Tagalog but just looking at the text for the Confiteor shows that "sa aking salà, sa aking
salà, sa aking pinakamalakíng salà" shows that "through my fault" is repeated thrice and with an additional word the third time. (All of the translations, except the Hungarian, are from "The Traveler's Mass" page on http://www.angilella.it/missa/ )

Another big advantage with the revised translation is the uniformity throughout the English speaking Catholic world. In the past, there have been different translations (albeit with only small differences, but differences nonetheless) in different countries. This became interesting with a group of Catholics from different English speaking countries like the English Mass community that I was part of in Hungary. The new translation solves that problem.

I know that many people were unhappy about the revision. The use of more sacramental vocabulary was off-putting to those who want the Mass to be as common as possible. They argued that it was foolish to "go back 40 years" and have to relearn something "so ingrained." "Bah Humbug!" say I! The Mass is not something common. It is a miracle. An amazing gift that we could never fully comprehend. So why should the language used be anything less? And as for relearning... go to daily Mass for a few weeks. I can't guarantee that you'll get it perfect right away but the extra grace will benefit you in more than just remembering to say "and with your spirit!"

Finally, a very clever parody as to why this is such a good thing. Just like sacramental language sounds funny in this setting, so is "kitchen English" ridiculous for the most sacred ritual on Earth. I doubled over laughing as I read this out loud to my family after a friend posted it on facebook.

(http://www.commonwealmagazine.org/blog/?p=16347 although, many of the people who commented didn't seem to realize that to make something worth parodying it has to be good. They seem to think that this is an example of why the translation isn't wonderful... silly people.)

"Behold, I tell you [some] myster[ies]"

Thoughts from last night's performance of (about two-thirds of) Handel's Messiah in no particular order...

1. Singing "Thou Shalt Break Them" with a "clothespin on your nose" is HIGHLY inadvisable. It may result in much of the choir and orchestra turning around to attempt not to laugh and the audience to stare in bewilderment. Also, it is painful. When it comes to extreme nasality: Just say no!

2. The group has grown. It was so enormous (100 was the program count) that there were not enough chairs and a handful of the basses ended up sitting in the pastor's lounge behind the organ and slipping in to stand next to us sopranos for the choruses. I've missed singing with a good group of people but having some great basses next me was an extra treat. Especially since...

3. Thanks to some rearranging after my solo, for the last chorus and the second time we sang the Hallelujah Chorus, I was right next to Erik who was one of my best friends in high school... with our former choir director on his other side. Talk about a blast from the past. It was like being in AC Choir all over again. The only thing we needed was our friend LaKedria singing "For Unto Us A Child Is Born" with us :-D

4. (Actually from rehearsal on Monday) A fire engine drove by. And, yes, this time it really was a fire engine ;-) "Glory to God"

5. There are reasons that "The Trumpet Shall Sound" is typically played on a piccolo trumpet. While I am sure there are people who could play it fantastically on a regular B-flat, the two trumpet players we had.... could not. To put it nicely. It was a hot mess. I kind of felt bad for the soloist (my high school choir director) because it seemed to be throwing him off.

6. There were some really fantastic high school kids singing solos. In particular, "The People That Walked In Darkness" -- honestly, the kid's breath support was unreal. One almost had to wonder if he was circular breathing.

7. I've learned my lesson: always bring water out with you if you're not sure about an intermission. By the beginning of Part 2, I was getting drier than dust and it didn't help my solo ("If God Be For Us"). I managed to get through it and it could have been much worse, but it also could have been much better. Even so...

8. Here's a really shocking tidbit: If someone has an summa cum laude degree in voice performance, there is a good chance that they can sing decently. Which my former choir director might have known ahead of time had he ever come to either of my recitals in Ohio (high school senior recital or the one I gave this summer -- both of which he claimed he was coming to) and heard me sing (or, I don't know ... cast me in a musical in high school) before this. The hug and shocked approval that I got from him was amusing. I often say that all of my music teachers have gotten me to where I am today. Most of them, thanks to their support and encouragement (my hs voice teacher, all the SHU profs -- huge shout out to MH who is most directly responsible for my still pursuing music) but this man because he pushed me to succeed simply to prove him wrong. That I AM a musician and DO deserve more than just two chorus numbers in a musical my senior year of high school. [rant over :) ]

All in all it was a good evening.. so nice to be singing real rep again and with a good chorus!

Why I'm glad I skipped 6th grade

Extreme Makeover Home Edition has a profound ability to clear my sinuses. I don't watch it very often but it seems that every time I watch it, I tear up, if not outright cry. Today was no exception. The family getting the new house this week suffered something I can't even begin to imagine. Two years ago, the sixth grade son killed himself as a result of terrible bullying at school. The rest of the family - mom, big sister, younger brother, younger sister, and aunt - have been unable to move on because of this horrific memory which is so deeply associated with their house.

Sixth grade is rough. Things are changing that you don't understand. Old friends may be making new ones and leaving you in the dust. Someone may decide that you're "not cool" and convince the rest of the class to avoid or bully you. That can make all the difference in the world between being happy and miserable at school. Middle school is brutal even without additional problems.

As the title of this post suggests, I never was a sixth grader. I was homeschooled through fifth grade and then begged and begged my parents to let me go to a tiny charter school as a seventh grader the next year. Despite this, I've seen the ugly side of 6th grade. Last year, when I was teaching in Hungary, one of my classes was the 6a class at the bilingual primary school. I saw them twice a week for music and English class. While there was a little bullying in the 5a class and the 7th graders were getting into teenage angst, the 6th graders were well known as the worst class in our program and for good reason. They were wild and uncontrollable, loud and disrespectful, crass and bullying. There was one favorite target; I'll call him Aaron. Aaron is the son of one of the other English teachers and was not adjusting well to living in Hungary. In a lot of ways, he made an easy target for them. The only one in the room who didn't speak Hungarian and so could only participate in half of the classes, he was also quiet, reserved, and unmotivated.

Aaron frustrated me. He was so unmotivated. I could be standing right next to him translating the Hungarian part of the lesson using simple language (fast, slow, etc) and he would blankly stare at me while saying "I just don't know anything about music." Well... with an attitude like that, it's unlikely that you ever will. Despite my frustration, I had immense empathy for him as the odd one out in the class because that was me ten years ago. I was the one American girl in an all Hungarian school. He had it easy compared to that. My classmates weren't nearly fluent in English. I could barely communicate with them. And, yes, I was bullied. While my class was a seventh grade class, there were many of the same problems. Name calling, reading a book during the break only to have the boys slam it shut, it wasn't fun. In fact, that semester was one of the darkest of my life. Although the year before when I was at a "Catholic" high school back in the States was worse at school, the combination of bullying with hating where I was put me the closest that I've ever been do doing something drastic. I don't know why my parents ignored the morbid notes that I left on their bed multiple times, but it's a good thing that I never did anything more than pray I wouldn't wake up the next morning. I know what it's like to be Aaron. The difference was when I accepted that I was stuck in Hungary whether or not I liked it and that I might as well make the best of it. Despite my happy ending (I fell in love with Hungary and have been back twice since that disastrous beginning), it could have been much different and I sincerely hope that things turn around for Aaron too.

Watching Extreme Makeover today, what hit home the most for me was the fact that my baby brother is in sixth grade. When the big sister was asked what she missed most about her brother, she remembered his jokes. Every time I am home, he's got at least a new joke or two. And when one of my sisters hears one, I get texts/facebook messages sharing the newest. John's not in school so bullying there isn't a concern right now (This is NOT a push for homeschooling! If I ever had kids they would not be homeschooled unless that was the absolutely only option) but bullying can take place anywhere. There are enough dangers and diseases harming kids, this is one that is completely preventable. And must end.

I don't know if I want to laugh or cry

My thoughts... stream of consciousness as I was watching the video. This was originally written as a comment on another blog. I'd love to know what you think of the video and/or my analysis. Yep, it's my typical acerbic self :)

True - college is too expensive.

Dentist who would rather be working at McDonalds -- scary. What if everyone thought that way? Who would our doctors be? Only those with parents rich enough to put them through college debt free. How can we expect that those people would 1. want to and 2. be suitable for the job.

Building new libraries adds nothing to the quality of education at a college? That's just laughable.

If we were graduating geniuses from college would we be this unhealthy of a nation? I don't have any statistics and maybe this is partially stereotypical but the unhealthiest people (especially when it comes to obesity) tend to be found among those who do not go to college.

Since when are we in a war in Pakistan?

The man at 31:27 is recommending that people run not walk away from the idea of going to college because it won't help them when they have no money for food and no water from the municipal taps. Who is going to manage those municipal taps if not a civil engineer? And how will that civil engineer gain the knowledge to do so without a college education?

There is no value to having a college degree if everyone else has one. If this is true, then one can compete even less without one.

I do agree that it can be too easy perhaps to do well. However, this does not negate the value of the education. So much of college is what you make of it. The student who does the bare minimum to pass (or to get the 4.0) will not be nearly as successful as the one who works above and beyond that bare minimum.

The most successful college of the future will be online. Where there will be no interaction between students and teachers because it will be all automated with a professor (who was educated how?) teaching hundreds of students. Not to mention that this method would be worthless for medical, engineering, and any other hand-on field (including my own specialty which I'll mention at the end). At that point, why bother doing anything more than just reading a textbook or the information online for free?

If I had kids, I would not want them educated in a school by teachers without college degrees. I definitely do not want to have my health in the hands of doctors, nurses, dentists, therapists, etc who do not have advanced degrees!

A note about myself and where I'm coming from. I graduated a year and a half ago with a bachelor degree in music, specifically voice performance. That degree could not have been completed online. It's an impossibility. One cannot learn all of the skills needed to compete in the world of opera without advanced training with personal instruction – in real life. Actually, a bachelor degree is the bare minimum as nearly all successful opera singers need the additional training of a masters degree with continued lessons and coachings well beyond that point. You can say that I did not study something “necessary” and that it's not “practical” and that I really didn't need to study something that will provide such little assurance of employment. I beg to differ. For a number of reasons, I was not singing professionally or even on a high community level last year. Neither was I taking private voice lessons. I cannot put into words how that pained my soul. I need music. I can't say that I need it more that God, and I could survive without it if there was no possible way to pursue it but I would be hardly a shell of the person I am now. For me, my degree was for myself more than for the purpose of getting a steady full-time job. I am currently working at McDonalds, Toys R Us, and just got a job as a preschool teachers assistant. I could have started any or all of those right out of high school. But where could I have gone from there?

Open Letter To My Soon To Be Former Landlady

So, I'm getting kicked out of my house, thanks to my nutso landlady. Because she is, quite literally, crazy, I know that nothing I could say to her would break through her skull. To satisfy my need to express my feelings towards her, despite the fact that she will never see this, I am writing this letter. I'll call her Ursula, because it's a good villain name (and it's what her parents conveniently named her).

Dear Ursula,

I was very sad to see the email you addressed to me for a number of reasons. After past experiences, I am not surprised to see you make such a bizarre and over-reactive action of telling me to leave. Your handling of the situation, however, really saddens me. To say that I am not angry would be a lie, but stronger than the anger is pity.

Yes, I pity you. I cannot imagine living with such OCD/anal retentive-ness that a simple request for privacy in a room I am paying to use would result in throwing me out of your house. That must be a very difficult life. The idea of being so upset over being asked not to clean a room that you have no reason to ever be in and to let the people who are paying you for the use of the room arrange the furniture in the way most comfortable to them is unfathomable to me. If these are considered "unreasonable demands," (your wording, I believe) especially when phrased in such a respectful, diplomatic way as C. (my roommate) and I did, then I can only imagine what the reaction would be should we have actually wanted something extreme. Thankfully, we will never have to find out.

You may notice that I mentioned C. and I phrasing things together. This is because that is exactly what happened. In reading (if you actually did) our email, you should have seen that everything was "we" vs. "I," it was signed by both of us, and sent from her email address. Most people would have interpreted that the email was from both of your tenants. I am at a loss as to how we could have spelled it out more clearly. The fact that you singled me out in your response and told me that while I have until December 15th to leave, C. can stay as long as she likes was appalling. As was the fact that you sent the email, addressed to me, to her address. I think it is incredibly sad that a grown woman would stoop to such levels. We have communicated many times via email both when I was living here previously and also in the past two months. There was absolutely no reason to attempt to avoid dealing directly with me. That was nothing short of childish. The same can be said for the additional emails which you sent to C. mentioning me and your asking that I leave prior to contacting me personally. Your assurances to her that you hope she will continue living here are laughable. What incentive could she possibly have for staying now that it is painfully obvious that we have no rights as renters and are, essentially, paying you for the privilege of house-sitting for you?

In conclusion, I will be out of your house well before your deadline. Additionally, I will make sure to be gone this Thanksgiving weekend while you are here so as not to disturb you by anything "unacceptable" that my presence may entail. Finally, if I ever see you advertise this room on craigslist or anything similar (which I anticipate you will be doing soon), please be assured that I will be writing to the website and/or posting an ad of my own warning people. While I will not stoop to your level and make unintelligible statements (They are crazy, wahh, wahh, wahh) I will absolutely tell them the truth. That you do not consider the renters to have any rights, they may not arrange things in their room, you do not want them to change the temperature so that they are comfortable, and, above all, you will give them no lease so if you change your mind about them living here on a whim, they have no recourse when you evict them.

Sincerely,
Rose

An old story with modern application

A hermit was meditating by a river when a young man interrupted him. "Master, I wish to become your disciple," said the man. "Why?" replied the hermit. The young man thought for a moment. "Because I want to find God."

The master jumped up, grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, dragged him into the river, and plunged his head under water. After holding him there for a minute, with him kicking and struggling to free himself, the master finally pulled him up out of the river. The young man coughed up water and gasped to get his breath. When he eventually quieted down, the master spoke. "Tell me, what did you want most of all when you were under water."

"Air!" answered the man.

"Very well," said the master. "Go home and come back to me when you want God as much as you just wanted air."

That is exactly how I feel about music right now. I NEED music in my life. It's not just that I want to be singing. I NEED to be singing. There is as longing in the depths of my soul to be learning new music, polishing old pieces, and performing. Unfortunately, I must not be at the drowning level yet as my attempts to do anything more than sing in the choir at my parents' church (where I don't even live anymore) are being thwarted no matter how hard I try.

I can't want it, anymore

I'm ready for 2011 to be over. It's been such a crazy, long year filled with one crap-tastic misadventure after another. Yes, there have been good things too, but I feel like I've dealt with an overabundance of crud. And some of it has really caused me to reevaluate my life. Specifically the area of relationships.

The title of this post quotes a song from the musical Wicked. I can really relate to the whole song right now, but these lines in particular came to mind this weekend:

GLINDA: Elphie, listen to me.
Just say you're sorry
You can still be with the Wizard
What you've worked and waited for
You can have all you ever wanted
ELPHABA: I know
But I don't want it
- No - I can't want it
Anymore

As Elphaba continues to say, I feel like "something has changed within me; something is not the same." My whole life, getting married and having kids was just what I expected would happen. This was strengthened by the fact that I grew up in a town where many people do just that at a young age. And, for some people, that is exactly the right thing.

I went to a baptism this weekend. My childhood-best-friend and her husband were having baby #4 baptized. Things were hectic with all the guests and visitors and tons of kids running around, but when I saw her last year (at that point with 3 little ones) she seemed happier than I've ever seen her. And I'm glad for her and her family. But I can't even begin to imagine living that life. It's just not me.

And that's ok.

The past few months have changed my focus on relationships. I've gone from praying constantly for "mysterious future husband" to "mysterious future husband who I'm pretty sure is XXX but don't know for certain" to halfheartedly being back on CatholicMatch and finally, to where I am today:

I don't think I'm meant to get married. And, based on my progressively worsening experiences with guys, that's probably the best thing for society. Over the past few days, I've looked back at my past relationships and relationships I wanted to exist. With the exception of one great guy whose personality and mine would have created a giant disaster, I have had some pretty "special" experiences. Stalker, a holier-than-thou porn addict, the gay guy, rad-trad whose extreme views I'm still recovering from, the list could go on. (Haven't actually dated all of these guys but they liked me and/or I liked them and/or we dated) However, none of those hold a candle to the latest disaster.

Who is in jail.

Now, before everyone gets super worried, I'm fine. I wasn't involved nor was I in a relationship with the person (THANK GOD for both of those facts!). All the same, it was such a shock because no one would have ever expected what happened and he was someone who I really respected. And, unfortunately, it's not something quite as benign as running one too many stop lights.

So, especially since this comes on the heals of this summer, I'm just completely disenchanted by the idea of a relationship. It just seems to be the wrong thing for me to want. I want to sing. Yes, I realize that swearing off guys does not guarantee a career as a performer but that's what I'm going to focus on now.

After the baptism yesterday, I went to Pittsburgh and auditioned for an opera with a small opera company. Those two events, juxtaposed, really clarified things in my mind. Maybe it's just that "I can't want it, anymore." And, if that's the case, at least for today, I'm fine with it.