Monday, March 27, 2017

If Kafka wrote stories about clowns

...that's what our current government is like: Kafka stories about clowns.

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My little lymphoma dog is back on chemo after a neutropenia-induced vacation. She's tolerating chemo well, but that may be the prednisone she's still on. It makes her hungry all the time. She who has been underweight her whole life is now a tank.

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My best friend's husband is very ill.

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The overuse injury (thank you, Simon Fischer and Nathan Cole) I flirted with last week seems to have settled down.

Otherwise, I feel well physically, better than anytime in the last couple of years. I'm able to run a bit over 50 miles a week, mostly slowly but sometimes a little brisk. I sleep well.

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I still haven't recorded the audition pieces, and I am stressed out about it. I was supposed to record today, but I bailed on it. I wasn't ready and I knew I would get very frustrated if I tried, and I just didn't want to deal with that. I have already missed one deadline and am about to miss a few others, and it's my own damn fault for picking these pieces that are over my head. Why why why? Even I know that for auditions you're supposed to pick something that's sort of easy and then polish it; you're not supposed to bash through something that's so far beyond you that you (and everyone listening) are on tenterhooks waiting for a flub...Every once in a while I remember it's only music, and of course I'm not going to sound very good, and if I want to go to a camp I need to make these recordings and not think too hard about what I really sound like and look like. But, sigh. It's sooooo god-awful. He said I should play that fluffy Nardini duet and something from Suzuki 3, and he was right.


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