Can I just repeat that? I'm going to graduate in December.

The Language Arts department at Wuthering Heights Community College agreed to award me the single credit I was missing in lower division English based on the twenty-five credits in upper division English I'd acquired at two universities. About damn time, too.

I go in next Monday to fill out the graduation application with Linda, my new best friend at WHCC, because I have something like four departmental waivers, course equivalency forms, and approval signatures to attach to it. I want make sure the paperwork is faultless, oh yes I do. She wants to make sure it's correct as well. That's her job. Part of her job. Bless Linda for taking my quest to graduate to heart and making sure it happened. I think I'll bring her flowers.

Meanwhile, Journalcon is producing some behind the scenes drama which is standard stuff in my convention-running experience. It's kind of fun, actually, in the "we'll laugh about this later" sense. Okay, we're laughing now. No matter what wacky last minute antics occur the convention is going to be a heck of a good time. I am so looking forward to it. I am so ready for it to take place. Running a convention is a part-time job, and four out of the six of us already juggle jobs and school. There was a solid reason why I initially didn't want to be involved with the convention. I've worked on cons before, I know they're a lot more work than they seem. But I'm not sorry I joined the committee at all. It's been great to work with everyone. Even the meetings were fun, and I hate meetings.

I took my first big test in History tonight. It was to be based entirely on class lectures, nothing from the books. I have no idea which class lecture notes my professor was working from, but I assure you I studied my very good notes, reviewed all the quizzes and handouts, and I had to guess at fully ten percent of the questions. I was appalled. I think I can count on a C, but probably no better than that unless the rest of the class sucked worse than I did and he grades on a bell curve. It's depressing to feel prepared and then get sucker punched like that. I haven't missed any classes, but I don't remember any mention of a pamphlet called The Awful Disclosure of Maria Monk, for instance. I doubt I would forget that title. So I didn't do very well, I suspect, and I'm only concerned because I need to know how to study for his tests. I'm smart enough to do well, but based on my experience so far I'm not on his test wavelength and that could be a serious problem.

In the other class the Bach prelude is coming along. I got some help with the fingering, and the proverbial lightbulb went off over my head as I realized the chord structure is what 'Ave Maria' is based on (Gounod nicked it from Bach!). That helps my understanding of how to play it; now I can hear it in my head. I have run into a slight technical problem, though. My hands are too little to reach a full octave.

I forgot about this. It was a problem twenty-five years ago, too. No stretching exercises in the world will allow me to play the upper and lower end of an octave simultaneously. Luckily, it's not really necessary. It would be handy, but I can fudge it by hitting one note a breath early and coming in on the other note on the beat.

I can play four measures of a non-trivial prelude with both hands reading both clefs and it sounds like Bach after only one lesson. I should stop underestimating myself. I'm a musician. Just because I stopped playing and singing for years doesn't mean it's not all still there. I was active at the professional level in my field by my late teens and the information is hardwired. I'm going to stop whining about not wanting to be challenged. My Jewish New Year's resolution: stop whining so much.

Oh, one more thing. I fired a client today. I rarely get to do this. Sure, we need more clients, not fewer, but we need the kind that actually book with us. There's a woman who's pumped me for information three times (more, I think, but three specific times within the last year) and then booked her trip on the Internet or used miles instead. This is fine, I understand sometimes things come up and it makes more sense to go with another option, but I'm not 411. You ask me to book you a trip, take my data, and book it yourself? Haven't actually spent any money with us in the last two years? Made me work hard for nothing several times in a row? You're fired. The ex-client was huffy about it, which cracked me up, despite my perfectly polite email declining her business. She was displeased with my "attitude." You know, the attitude that I should be compensated for my time.

I will never understand people like that if I live to be a hundred. But I don't care. I'm graduating, I can play Bach, Journalcon is just around the corner, I'm going to Waikiki next month, and I got home in time to watch the season opener of Buffy with John. I'm a happy person tonight.

Past Life The Index Next Incarnation