Blood's a Pumpin'

Disclaimer: I haven't realized how long it's been since my last post. Please forgive me, but as you read on you will see that my mind has not necessarily been around a computer recently.



I just returned home from lunch with Karl at The East India Club, a members-only gentlemen's club in St. James' Square. So many Victorian novels and stories suddenly breathed into life as I found myself not in Pall Mall, but the equally renowned St. James' Square. My elitist blood is pumping after lunching in the building shown above. I'm sure you don't have any difficulty in understanding why. Peeked into the window of the men-only smoking room and the beautiful library (both full of leather armchairs, but, as it was midday, decidedly few leather men).

I'm making a phone call to the airline/site through which I booked my flights to see if I can extend my stay by 2ish weeks tonight. Most likely will be returning as planned, but one can always hope. I cannot hear out of my left ear and currently feel that spending 8 hours in a pressurized environment wouldn't be all that good of an idea at this point. I'm off balance and feel like I have a fish tank in the left side of my head.

What have I been up to since I last updated, aside from being sick. Where to begin? What- you didn't think a nasty bout of illnesses would pin me down, did you?

Trying to remember back... On the 3rd, a Saturday, I saw Salome at the Royal Opera. I think it's required of my immune system to be shot when I go to the opera. My seat was 2 from the wall, stage right, as high as I could possibly get. In short, it was difficult to see anything that wasn't happening within 15 feet of the front of the stage (unless I rested my chin on the ledge in front of me).

Breakfast with Jonathan the next morning (Sunday) in St. Christopher's Place. We had intending on going elsewhere, but everything in the entire area was closed. Lovely. I figured out that morning that Bond Street is incredibly long. Spent the rest of the day wandering around all of the extravagantly elegant men's tailors and sellers of accessories in Savile Row and Jermyn Street as well as other pretty bits of Picadilly/St. James'. I told myself I needed to go back. Funny I should end up there today...

Monday...don't remember.

Tuesday- bedridden all day until I joined the hashers for post-run socializing near Baker Street.

Wednesday found me on a train to/in Tonbridge for a massage by Alain, an occasional LSO extra violin. Our hellos had been cut short, so we finally had a chance to chat over tea and an attempt to assist me along the road to recovery.

Thursday- City of London Festival concert at St. Paul's Cathedral (sold out). You may remember my recount of last summer's performance of Bruckner 9 by the LSO. This summer was a very powerful Beethoven 9 with John Eliot Gardiner. Seat was a the foot of the stage-right steps, so I was given some surprised faces as the players were taking their places. Actually, they were probably thinking, "Why are you still here?"

I had every intention of spending Friday in recovery mode. I was mistaken. Phone call from Ivor in the AM asking if I could turn pages for the evening's NLS concert- Rossini's Petite Messe Solennelle. Of course, I said yes- and volunteered myself for the rehearsal, as well. At the interval of the performance, I sprinted to Pret for some fruit before what I'm sure would have been my first fainting spell. The stage light was shining directly at me, and I had no hair tie. That, accompanied with nerves and illness made for a shaky Ashley. Food was my saviour.

Saturday was Emily and Lucia's joint birthday party at Ivor's. Emily and Lucia are sisters I have known since last summer. We are all in both the choir and the running club together. Ivor's, of course, the choir conductor. His flat was beautiful...check out some photos of the garden on my facebook page. Adam and I departed at 3 AM. I heard of some hearty souls who remained until 6. By time we had left, we had stolen the dancefloor. A benefit, perhaps, of a duo of professional-training (since he was 4) and close-enough-to-professionally-training gave us plenty of reason to strut our stuff together.

Sunday- slept late, watched the British Grand Prix in the afternoon and the World Cup final in the evening.

Yesterday- watched 3 episodes of Top Gear, 1 of QI, baked cookies, ended up spending some time with Lex and Princess, met up with Adam to assist in the devouring of some leftovers.

Today has already been described, but I would once again like to remind you that I ate here today, and you didn't:

Soz.

Sorry for the lack of writing, everyone. I believe my excuses are justifiable. Last week the worst case of allergies/hayfever/cold I've yet had. Not entirely sure what it was. Although I did still accomplish things, I really couldn't concentrate to write anything. Now, after singing Handel's Israel in Egypt through from start to finish 5 times (plus some rehearsing) in 3 days, my voice has painfully ripped itself to shreds and opening the door to exhaustion.

In my last post, I mentioned two American girls, Morgan and Sarah. I spent Monday showing them around after an orchestra rehearsal. We started by taking the tube to the Tower so they could take pictures of the bridge and the tower itself. Morgan wanted to see Somerset House, so we got off and Temple tube. From SH, we walked to Trafalgar Square and did a super-quick walk through the National Gallery. I showed them my 2 favorite rooms as well as the Impressionist rooms. From there we walked to Buckingham Palace. Morgan was brave enough to carry out a suggestion I was given a while ago from Gerry (Rader). He had run into a former B'ham Palace guard, who told him a sentence that would supposedly allow entry into the palace. Morgan tried on the friendly cop standing at an important-looking entrance. He was confused, so he asked the 3 other friendly cops who were standing nearby. One had heard of it, but had never been asked. They all determined it must either be for a different palace or applied decades ago and had since been abandoned. Sigh. Still, we took a picture with the cops so as to record our attempts.

I spent Tuesday morning in Spa Fields behind my flat reading Pygmalion (for you uncultured lot, My Fair Lady was based upon this play). I commandeered a bench at 7 AM and read for the next couple of hours until I finished. For some reason, I left inspired to do some art, so I went home and drew Karl's requested headshot, of which I'm quite proud. Spent the evening with Adam, who was just entering the heat of his heavy week of work.

Despite hayfever (or whatever it was) that had just kicked into full swing over the course of the next afternoon, I still went to see The Marriage of Figaro at the Royal Opera House (Wednesday). My good intentions only survived the first half- my ticket was a standing seat at the back of the top balcony, i.e. not worth the exertion as the opera started at 7 and wasn't set to finish until past 10. So, at the 30-minute-long interval, I decided to nip into the chemist (pharmacy) behind the ROH for some sort of medication then walk home. Halfway home, I got a text message from Martin, one of the bassoonists in the ROH orchestra, asking how I was enjoying the show and inviting me to the pub afterwards. Feeling guilty, I hightailed it back to the hall...just in time for the show to have started 2 minutes before my arrival.

You may think I dejectedly (yet thankfully) returned home at this point, but you would be wrong! One of the workers in the lobby said, "You can't get to your seat, but we have an empty box, if that's ok." If that's OK?! Um, I can't complain about a private box upgrade from an £8 standing seat. [other worker], go ahead and take her up."

For the first 5 minutes or so, seated one box up and back from the stage, I attempted to figure out who was who onstage since faces were all blurs from the nosebleed section. My body then decided that it would rather sleep. 20 minutes later, I awoke in the middle of a plot twist. Opera finished (btw it was good), found my way to the pub, and enjoyed chatting with various musicians from the ROH, English National Opera, and a regular player (i.e. over 4000 of over 6000 performances) in Phantom of the Opera over the last 23 years.

Hmm... What did I do on Thursday? Ah, yes. I spent the entire day laying in bed attempting to recover. I watched 3 Top Gear specials and drank a lot of chocolate milk. Yes, I realize the latter wasn't the best for recovery, but it tasted maaahvelous.

Friday afternoon was installment 4 of payment for my drawing for Sean. This means we went for burritos at Chipotle on Charing Cross Rd. His was on the house as he'd been in every day for the last week and half. He's admitted that he has a problem.

Friday evening was reason to celebrate, as Adam had survived his busy work week. Champagne and a delicious/elegant dinner sufficed.

Saturday- wandered around some strange little town as Adam's car was serviced, then returned home for some more rest.

Sunday- LSO open rehearsal, horrific England/Germany World Cup game, and Haydn's The Seasons with Sir Colin. I was glad I decided to leave my flat relatively early, as the concert started at 7, not the usual 7:30. I picked up my ticket 2 minutes before showtime.

Monday- listened to flatemates' tales from Glastonbury Festival, then we all trekked up to Hampstead Heath to revel in yet another day of sunshine. From there, bus to choir rehearsal. I happened to look down as we were stopped. Ivor, our conductor, was sitting in his car with the top down right in front of us! I sprinted downstairs (from the top of the double-decker), and jumped into the back.

Tuesday- rehearsal at Cadogan Hall with orchestra and chorus. Approximately 200 people on stage, if not more. Right before the break, Ivor said, from the podium, "Ashley?" Of course I assumed he was just going to have me go sit in the hall to listen for balance or something. No. He had me come up to the podium and conduct the movement we'd just done. I am pleased to say I shook far less than last time, despite my knowing that the bass player in the orchestra in front of me is a member of the LSO!!!! Concert that night was amazing.

Wednesday- trumpet lesson with Gerry at the Barbican. 30 minutes of Halsey Stevens. Ran to Cadogan Hall from there. Rehearsal from 3. I was assigned to sit right next to the soloists, i.e. very near the audience, which apparently encouraged me to be a bit too enthusiastic.

I'm now, as I've mentioned previously, completely fatigued and shredded to bits. Spending the rest of the day resting before returning to the Barbican for the final concert of the season (the one at St. Paul's next week is actually part of the City of London Festival). One of my friends in the 2nd violins is retiring after this concert, so they're having drinks for him, and he invited me to join in the festivities! But until then- rest. Lots of rest. Alas, I only have about 2 hours...

Ascot, etc.

I have been on my feet and GOING pretty much non-stop since Monday what with hashing, rehearsals, concerts, Ascot, World Cup, dinners, etc. etc. I'll try to give you the highlights, although too much has happened to write absolutely everything here. If I took 370 pictures in two days, you can imagine how much I could potentially say.

I got to Waterloo in plenty of time for the 11:05 train to Ascot. It was quite obvious that it was nearly everyone's final destination as there were top hats and feathers galore. Some old Irishman who worked at the station immediately helped me out (even though I didn't need it) with the ticket machine. He asked if I was Irish and seemed upset when I couldn't remember the county where my family lived at one point. A homeless woman walked by as we were talking and told me how beautiful I looked.

I somehow managed to snag a seat on the train. The aisles and ends of the cars were completely packed of people who had to stand for the duration of the hour-long journey. I was amongst a group of 6 guys who talked to me most of the way there and invited me to join them. When we got to Ascot, one of them bought me a rose for my jacket. They waited for me at the entrance to the Silver Ring (but I was in the Grandstand). By time I got my ticket, they had vanished.

I stood around in the parade ring until the royal procession so as to keep my wonderful place in the stands. If you check out my facebook, I have some wonderful photos of the Queen, Prince Philip, and Andrew Lloyd Webber. I eventually realized that I was more in shock that I had seen ALW than the Queen, as I hadn't expected him to be there.

I placed all of my bets at the beginning, horses chosen mostly because of their names. Won nothing on the first race and immediately thought the whole day would be like that. Then my horse won the next race. And the next one. And the next two after that- 4 consecutive winners and 2 placers, overall (i.e. I won on 5 of 6 races)!!! By the end of the day, I'd paid for my entire day out and still had £13 in my pocket.

On the ride home, I stood in an aisle and chatted with three guys who all used to work for Proctor and Gamble. One of them now owns an IT company based right behind Trafalgar Square. One of the others looked vaguely like Prince William. They invited me to watch the England/Algeria match, but I had plans to head up to Camden to meet up with some hashers. I made it to the pub minutes before halftime. Shoulder to shoulder in the place. Changed. Tie. Curry. Bed.

Woke up early enough to make it to 5-hour Bart's rehearsal 20 minutes late. In the last 5 minutes of rehearsal, Ivor had us all move around and sit next to someone we "liked the look of." In short, just to get us listening a different way. Two seconds after we shifted around, he got off the podium and shouted, "Ashley- get up here." Completely in shock, I ran up to the podium and kept on chugging. By time I found my place on the page, I realized I was conducting what was supposed to be in 4 in 2, fixed my error, then spent the rest of the movement just trying to keep my hands from flying off my arms! I had a sort of involuntary Gergiev twitch going. No matter, I survived! Very glad he hadn't warned me about it. I'm going to be on edge every rehearsal from now on. So long as it doesn't happen in the concert....

I ran to the pub straight from rehearsal so I could get changed for a formal dinner at a hash friend's house in north London. Second outing (in as many days) for the Ascot ensemble (sans hat). Did my hair without being able to see the back of it (so I kept shoving flowers into it at dinner). LOVELY meal cooked entirely from scratch- delicious smoothie-type freshly-juiced raspberry/apple concoction, harvest soup, asparagus with secret sauce, lasagne, salad, potato salad, and DIY Eton mess for dessert. Charades, made-up dictionary definition game, and additional fun was had by all.

Vaguely slept in this morning. On the walk back home from King's Cross, I heard two American girls behind me saying, "This is King's Cross Bridge...maybe it's down this way?" I immediately knew they were looking for the Clink Hostel where I stayed last summer. How did I know? Because I made the exact error of turning down that road. I helped them out, they put their bags in the luggage room, then I played tour guide for a while. We walked down to St. Paul's, across Millenium Bridge, back up Blackfriar's Bridge, had lunch with Adam across from the Royal Courts of Justice, then walked back up to the flat/hostel. Likely meeting up again later in the evening, as they are only here for 2 days and would like the guidance on what to do in such a short period of time.

Adam has a 5-day tribunal in Reading all this week. It'll take him about an hour to get to Reading and an additional 20 minutes to get to the courthouse. He has to be there by 9 AM every day, won't be able to head back to London until 4:30-5ish, then will have to go back to the office for a while before finally being able to head home. Repeat until Friday evening. My schedule is also quite full this week: Monday- LSO and choir rehearsals and meeting up with Karl, Tuesday- hashing, Wednesday- Marriage of Figaro (with Sir Colin, I believe!) at the Royal Opera House, Thursday- some sort of club thing. It's going to be a very long week.

If I've forgotten anything, expect another post.

Neat Stuff.

I just tidied up the flat. Yesterday, I spent 6 hours painting- 9 doorways plus trim in a kitchen and hallway. Not pictures of them- the actual doorways and trim. Luckily someone else mopped, otherwise I'd seriously wonder what's wrong with me willingly doing all this stuff!

Dad sent me an email complaining that I'm not writing enough. Please forgive me, everyone back home, but I'm trying to wean myself off my internet addiction. So far, I'd say I'm doing a pretty good job. Sadly for you, that means less frequent news from Ashleyland.

Dad also pointed out that I'm not talking about music as much as usual. Perhaps I'm just failing to write about it. I'm still singing in Bart's- we have a concert on June 29 and 30 at Cadogan Hall (speak to me ASAP if you want tickets!). I'm currently only singing in the one on the 29th (which means I'm missing a hash), but will try to talk my way into both of them...although I'd *really* like to talk Ivor into letting me play trumpet on it... I'm not singing in the NLS, but I will still be going to their 2 remaining concerts.

Also will be going to most of the remaining LSO concerts. One of the reasons I haven't really been going to that many rehearsals is because they've been/will be gone, are doing sessions, etc. I DID go to the free lunchtime concert on Friday, though. The brass section gave a preview for last night's concert. Hot stuff. They did an arrangement of Ives' Variations on America. Of course some Brit had to ask the origins of the tune, as it's also "God Save the Queen." Patrick (tuba player. remember him from last summer?) said it was Beethoven's. It's actually older than that (I looked it up), but Beethoven and dozens of other composers have used it in their own compositions.

The hashers had 2 teams in a touch rugby tournament in West Dulwich (south London) on Saturday. I had NO clue how to play rugby until right before playing. After the tourney (a team dressed as Morris dancers won), we all watched the England v. US World Cup game. I painted a couple of George crosses on my cheeks and the other Ohio girl (from Dayton!) in the group was given a big ol' Union Jack right across her forehead.

Last night's World Cup game was much more exciting: 4-0 Germany! Poor Australia...

Strings 'n Things

I realize that I failed to mention that I went 6 consecutive days of eating at least one meal of Indian food. It all ended with my first trip to Brick Lane with Jenny, one of my flatmates. After looking through the markets, we needed some grub. Although she can't really eat Indian, she said we had to to 1) keep up my pattern and 2) because we were in Brick Lane. It took us about half an hour to decide which place to go, as there were people outside of each harassing us with discounts.

We made a good choice: free bottle of wine AND 30% off our final bill. This equates to £10/each for main, rice, naan, and wine. Unfortunately I made the mistake of ordering Madras, aka the 2nd spiciest thing on the menu. I magically managed to eat half of it, but this required me drinking 2 pints of water (I could have easily done away with another 1 or 2).

I attempted to order my ticket for Royal Ascot yesterday but it didn't go through. I tried again today. It worked. I called in the middle of typing this just to make sure. The phone call also made me realize that I NEED to get a new higher-quality UK mobile. I had to ask the clear-speaking Englishman to repeat nearly everything he said because my phone doesn't have volume controls. But as for Ascot: You have my word that there will be many, many, many pictures. Many of them.

I'm meeting a friend for dinner at 5, then an exciting LSO concert at 7:30- Shostakovich Symphony 6, Dvorak Scherzo Capriccioso, and Britten's violin concerto (with a substitute soloist who stepped in only days ago to replace an ailing Janine Jansen). Highlight of today's LSO rehearsal: Sir Mark Elder calling Joost, "Toast." I didn't hear what he said after that, but the whole band was laughing.

I FINALLY went inside of the Royal Courts of Justice yesterday. It's nice and all, but I have to say I was a wee bit disappointed that the outside is much more decorative. There was very little color inside, the paintings were grimy....but there was a room full of historic costumes which vaguely made up for the aforementioned faults.

Squidgy.

Last night was my 3rd hash. It took place at a pub near the Barbican, so not too far from home. You don't generally think of that area as residential, but some angry residents called the police on us for being too loud. When the cops showed up, I was in the process of being made to drink out of something that isn't made to be drunk out of (I'll leave it to your imagination) in front of the group. People were shouting, "They're coming up behind you!" This turned out to be nothing to be worried about. In fact, someone said, "No hats in the circle!" And the cops were pulled forward into the circle and made to chug a half pint (of water) each. In short, we didn't get in trouble.

Something I find interesting about UK vs. US English. I never thought I would have to explain what a "mini van" is to someone. Luckily we passed what's likely the only one in Britain in the process of my attempted explanation. I had more things like this to mention, but I've since forgotten them. I'm sure they'll come back to me.

I went to the National Portrait Gallery for the first time yesterday. I was incredibly upset with myself for not taking my sketchbook. Berlioz was playing in the shop, which made me happy.

Went to LSO rehearsal this morning for the first time in 2 weeks or so. The soloist for tomorrow's concert had to drop out due to illness, but was replaced, so she show goes on! They're playing Shotakovich

Sunshine and Water Guns

-unfortunately not on the same day. Tuesday night was the "Cannonball Run" with the City Hash House Harriers. If I haven't already told you about "hashing," please allow me to elaborate. In short, it's a running club. The starting/ending point is some pub, previously determined by the "hare/s" who marked out the course. We all meet there, drop our things, run all over the place, then ideally all meet back at the pub at vaguely the same time.

The trail is kind of like a treasure hunt. If you're at the front of the pack, you are the first to come to checkpoints. They generally fall in the middle of an intersection with no indication of which way the trail goes from there. To let the slower people catch up to them, they have to spread out and find the next leg of the trail. Sometimes the trail they find is a huge loop. The slower people spot them towards the end of the loop and take the shortcut. It's crazy.

As for the Cannonball Run- it was a reenactment of the Siege of Badajoz from the War of 1812 with water gun/cannon arms. We even had uniforms with our names on them. The one major downfall of the night was that it was freezing cold and raining. The rain meant that no one cared if they were pummeled by water guns. The cold meant the last hurrah at the top of a manmade hill was quite bitter.

I was called on at the semi-last minute to turn pages for the Bart's Chamber Choir Brahms' Requiem concert at St. Martin's last night. I also sold programs and CDs. I was highly amused by all of the Americans in attendance who kept saying, "I don't know how your money works here."

I seem to have not written anything about the NLS party last week. Epic. I was not-really-self-designated Pimms overseer. There were more people at the party than the concert. I ballroom danced to 80s rock.

I also haven't mentioned the hash gathering last Sunday. 10 or so of us met up at Clapham Common (a park in South London) to enjoy an absolutely beautiful day. We played cards, Rounders, and other random games. During Rounders, I was hit in the ankle with a line drive.

The LSO just returned from Spain. I obviously didn't make it to the Håkan Hardenberger concert last night, and I also didn't make it to rehearsal this morning. I needed the rest!

Not sure what I'm going to do with myself today. Tomorrow is a hash gathering at Hyde Park.

Problem Solved

I will be moving back to Exmouth for the rest of the summer as of Monday. This week's been quite an adventure. Sunday and Monday I stayed at Onslow Gardens with Iain from Bart's Choir. Tuesday and Wednesday I stayed at a hostel near Edgeware Rd. Thursday in Emperor's Gate, possibly tonight, too, otherwise Friday/Saturday/Sunday will be near King's Cross with Aziz.

Jonathan's flatmate is a concert pianist and professor, so I have a Steinway Model B at my fingertips. I spent the majority of yesterday playing it until I went to choir rehearsal. After rehearsal, the sun was setting and turning the tops of the Old Bailey (right across the street from the rehearsal church) and all the churches, including St. Paul's, a beautiful shade of pink against a very cloudy blue sky. And I didn't have my camera. I should have known to take it with me after Jonathan sent me text saying he'd just seen the Queen being driven down the street a block away from me.

Tonight is a New London Singer's concert two blocks from here. Gathering afterwards. It'll be nice to see some familiar faces for the first time since last July.

You can see I've not really been up to much recently. Trying to relax after sprinting around for two weeks. The LSO will be back from Spain on Wednesday for a concert with Håkan Hardenberger. Håkan shared some conductor tales at rehearsal the other day. Oh, how I love hearing conductor stories.

Righty-oh, off to practice.

What to Do...

A friend from Bart's choir invited me to stay at his flat for an indefinite period of time. Another friend of his lives there 3 days a week, as she has a house in a suburb but works in the city, but he figured this wouldn't be a problem. Unfortunately she fulfills the cold-hearted British woman stereotype. The first thing she said to me was, "So where are you going to stay until blah blah blah?" She continued by belittling every single one of my interests and potential professions. You can imagine the look on my and my friend's face at breakfast while she was saying all of this.

In short, I'm staying in a hostel tonight. I'm keeping most of my things there and at Exmouth Market. I'm going to try to see if I can find a hostel somewhere in South Kensington, as that's where I was the last 2 nights. I'll be staying at Jonathan's tomorrow night, which is about 2 blocks from where I've been evicted, and 2 blocks in the other direction from where I'll be Monday-Thursday, ish. There's an NLS concert at a church literally 2 buildings away on Friday night, too, which is just plain handy. But you may have noticed that this means I am homeless Fri/Sat/Sun nights. Will also be hosteling those nights, it looks.

In happier news, I went to a trumpet masterclass by Håkan Hardenberger, possibly the world's leading trumpet soloist, etc. 4 Guildhall students played for him over the course of 2 hours. When he wasn't standing up in front with the student, he was sitting next to me! Let's hope I picked something up through osmosis. He's rehearsing with the LSO this morning for concerts in Spain and London next week. You would be correct to guess I'm currently passing the time in the Barbican waiting for 10 AM.

I'm off to try to get rid of this worrisome feeling by booking a bed to finish out the week...

Phew.

I haven't had internet for 3 days. It's been kinda nice. It's about 1:30 AM. I have to be awake at 7. I'm currently staying with a choir friend in South Kensington. He doesn't have spare keys, and it requires keys to leave the flat, so I have to leave at 8, too. Let's hope spare keys show up on the set soon, because this is going to get really old really quickly.

Stayed in Lucia's flat north of King's Cross last week. Watched too much QI and Top Gear. Played tour guide for Dr. Howes and his wife. Walked all the way from the flat to Trafalgar Square, all through the National Gallery, back and forth outside, all over Covent Garden, partway back. I can't even estimate how far I've walked in the last week and a half- especially this last week. All I can say is that I SURE can feel it. Not pain, but the endurance.

Thursday night was my London Symphony Chorus audition. In short, I didn't get in because my high notes sounded "too pinched." I was instructed to take 1 or 2 "more" voice lessons and go back to him. Funny how I've never been told that, before, huh? Oh, well- now I have many many open evenings in my schedule.

Still, I am/was pretty devastated by this idiotic failure, so I made my way to the post-Bart's pub at Covent Garden, the Lamb and Flag. Perhaps you recall this from my going away party last summer. Same place.

Of the 1000's of pubs in London, I ran into 2 people I knew. One was Martin, the principal contrabasoonist of the Royal Opera. He played with the LSO on tour in Granada last summer and Dublin last week. We hadn't ever formally met, but obviously recognized each other. He was still wearing his tails, as he'd come straight from the Barbican after he finished the first half of the final Gergiev concert. It appears as though I have a strange way of serendipitously running into bassoonists. Better than violists, I guess.

The other person was a girl from the New London Singers. She walked in with the gang that came in with Martin- they kind of knew each other somehow, too. We made that awkward "hold on- I know you..." eye contact, but didn't take long to realize how.

I had a balcony seat (ick) to tonight's LSO concert. Got to the door and was given a Circle ticket! If the concert isn't too popular and there are few people in the balcony, they give the extra Circle tickets and close off the top floor. An American guy sat down beside me. The rest of his group was at the end of the row in front of us. I asked where he was from. "America." "Well, yeah. Where?" "Ohio." "You're kidding me. I go to Bowling Green." "I go to Bluffton." "I'm from Findlay." "Some of those guys are from Findlay."

3 random coincidences in a matter of days. Let's see what's gonna happen this week...

Not Nothing, Apparently.

Mother says I'm not allowed to say I don't have anything to write. I guess I have to write something, then.

I took my German professor, Dr. Howes, and his wife around yesterday. I had my first major London navigation fail of the trip, but forgetting that Tottenham Ct. Rd. and Charing Cross Rd. are in fact the same thing. Therefore, we had a little diversion via Regent's Street and Picadilly Circus on our way to Trafalgar Square. Once we finally saw Nelson, we headed into St. Martin's. The conductor of the evening's concert happened to be passing out fliers and came up to us. Dr. Howes said something about catching me in the act of networking. Just another example of my strange ability to be in the right place at the right time!

We had a bit of time before the National Gallery closed, so we headed there after tea in the crypt cafe of St. Martin's. A lot of the artwork has been moved around or sent off, so there were a lot of new things to see. My lover, M. de Norvins, is still there, though, so all is well.

Slept late this morning since I had nothing until LSO rehearsal at 4:30. Went to the city a bit beforehand so I could have my first proper pub grub. Toad-in-the-hole- one of my favo(u)rites!

Skipping out on tonight's LSO concert since I've heard them play 1/3 of the program(me) in 2 countries, 1/3 in 3 countries, and 1/3 last week. I think I'm going to call it an early night since I walked something like 12ish miles (19ish km.) yesterday. I could use some resting time.

Going to the Globe Theatre (Theater) on Friday evening to see Henry the 8th and Saturday to see Macbeth. London Symphony Chorus audition tomorrow evening and I have no idea what I'll be singing...

Green with Envy?

Friday involved LSO rehearsal in the afternoon at St. Luke's, followed by a conducting masterclass in the evening with 3 lucky guys, one of whom was only 20!

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I can't say that Dublin was or was not what I expected, as I didn't really know what to expect. It is not unlike English towns/cities. In fact, one of the percussionists behind me on the bus from the airport to the hotel said, "Do you even feel like you're in a different country?"

I woke up at 6 AM on Saturday morning, walked to Liverpool St. Station, took the Stansted Express to the airport. I only had a purse, no checked bags, but I still had to stand in line to get my passport checked. I was sent to the front as the line wasn't moving very quickly and they thought our flight should have priority for some reason.

While I was waiting at the gate, who should show up but Claire, a friend of mine in the first violin section! She decided to fly on her own since she lives much nearer Stansted than Heathrow. It was nice to have company on the flight.

We arrived at Dublin airport a little before the LSO flight, so we grabbed a bite near the arrivals gate. Took the first coach to the hotel. From there, I wandered around on my own from about noon until 5. I somehow ended up a block from the Jameson Whiskey Distillery at about 2, so I decided to do a tour. While waiting for my turn, I took a picture for a Dutch-speaking Belgian couple. We chatted for quite a while (in English) about their kids, who have studied abroad all over the place to become fluent in various languages.

I was selected to be one of the taste-testers at the end of the tour. The tour itself wasn't really that exciting. Afterwards, the 10 testers were given a bit of Jameson to compare to a bit of Johnnie Walker Black Label (a "premium" Scotch) and Jack Daniels (the best-selling American whisky). The smokiness of the Scotch was absolutely vile compared to the Jameson. JD is just awful, period. Only 1 of 10 said the Scotch was the best. We got a nice little certificate afterwards, names printed on them, even!

On the way to rehearsal, I decided to stop for coffee at a Starbuck's. Perhaps it was punishment for not going into a local place. No matter the reason, I somehow managed to get locked in the bathroom. Handily enough, there was a "pull for assistance" cord. Banging on the door wasn't getting anyone's attention, so I decided to pull the cord. I got a free coffee out of it!

Right before the rehearsal began, the orchestra was informed that the ash cloud forced them to move their flight to Frankfurt up 2 hours....meaning they had to leave the hotel at 5:15 AM, breakfast at 4:45. There was talk that the flights might be cancelled and that they'd have to take a ship to Liverpool, then a train to London, then a train to Hannover for the second of 3 Germany concerts, missing the one in Frankfurt. No worries- they made it!

The concert was sold out, but there were returns, so I managed to snag a Choir Balcony (i.e. behind the stage, above the orchestra) seat. A wee bit more expensive than I was hoping, but it was the cheapest in the house. General Admission allowed me to find my way to the front row. Sat next to an Irish guy who's my age, called Niall.

Back at the hotel after a quick bite, I sat in the lobby with Carmine, Ginette, and Jorg. Bought a half pint of Guinness, which I soon wished to have been a full pint. It's apparently a different recipe over there. MMMM!

Walked to the aircoach stop at something like 1:15. Bus didn't come until 2 something. I think I watched a marriage end in a fight on a Dublin street not far away from me while I was waiting. Almost called the police on the man. After a nap in a chair near the check-in point, finally was able to get my passport checked. No one else was there, as it was only about 3 AM. No one was in line at security. Once I was through security, no one was in the airport, ANYWHERE until an hour went by. Very surreal.

Back in London, all I had to do was show my boarding pass from Ireland due to some sort of lovely agreement! Looks like I'm going to be going back to Ireland since it's not at all a hectic trip!

Breakfast with Jonathan at 8:30 on the other side of London tomorrow morning. As I still feel vaguely like a zombie, I believe it's going to be an early night for me.

Don't Rain on My Parade.

Very brief update today as it was a relaxed day.

Rehearsal in the morning. I think I accidentally fell asleep a couple of times due to jet lag kicking in. I could hardly even wake up in the morning. I went, though, so I could partake in the post-rehearsal festivities. Maxine, a first violin, has opened a makeshift shop of sorts in her sitting room to make way for new purchases. I found a hat for Royal Ascot!

I came back in the afternoon, rested, eventually decided to move up onto the roof. It was nice and warm, but large intimidating dark clouds were swiftly moving my way, encouraging me to move back to the kitchen.

Picked up a sandwich at Tesco, then went to the concert. The second half was made up of Messiaen's Turangalila Symphony, which involves the strangest instrument in the world: the ondes Martenot. I couldn't see it/didn't know of its existence during the rehearsal, which made it all the more confusing.

Back to the flat just in time for everyone to meet me on their way out. Joined them to go down the block for some reminiscing. I was challenged to speak as long as I could with my apparently-convincing Scottish accent. I was given permission to stop when they realized I could keep going :)

Tomorrow's the Gergiev conducting masterclass. Next days' the trip to Dublin, which I still dont' know if I'm going to do or not....

The Eagle Has Landed

I won't bore you with every single detail of my trip, but will provide you with the highlights of my return to London.

Dayton's airport has free wireless. This is a very important fact that I had forgotten. Dallas does not have free wireless.

I sat in the 2nd to last row on the plane (which was a small one- only 3 seats in the middle, not 5, and did not have personal TVs), meaning I was between the toilets and behind the engines. Great sleeping sounds. There were 2 Australian guys behind me. We all had fun narrating the scene in the plane as everyone boarded. "Looks like the Crocodile Dundee's eyeing the seat beside you (me)!"

Thus was my introduction to my trans-atlantic flight neighbor, Tom aka "Standing Bear." No, he is not a Native American, but he is a NA spiritual practitioner. His teacher's name is "Rainbow Hawk." It took a lot to keep me from bursting into laughter when I heard that. Luckily (don't quite know if that's the proper word) the guy just goes by "Hawk." Tom/Bear and I spent about 3 hours (until dinner was served) talking. It didn't take long for him to realize that I am an "Old Soul." He said there are very few of them in the world. I completely see where he's coming from and agree. I'm sure everyone who's reading this also agrees. Tom/Bear is in England to visit "Whitewolf," his "soulmate," who lives in Cornwall.

I woke up just in time (and because of) to take part in the clamor of looking out the window as we flew DIRECTLY OVER the Icelandic volcano. It was neat to see the ash cloud from the sky. Alas, my camera was still asleep at the time.

Landed at Heathrow, in line at customs, realized I left my duty free purchases under the seat on the plane. Ran all the way back, had a trolly guy take me to the plane, found said purchases, ran back to customs, was the only person in line. The jerk who gave me a hard time the first time I ever came to the UK was one of my 3 choices of agents. Although it'd have been interesting to see if he'd changed his evil ways, I decided to try a new person. "Only 3 days? (since I'm going to Ireland Saturday- maybe)" "Yup." *stamp*

Boarded the tube. Picadilly Line closed halfway here. Transferred 3 times, dragged the suitcase up and down a billion flights of stairs. Finally made it to Exmouth at 3 PM sharp! Happy flatmate reunion. Shower, then immediately off to the Barbican! I sat backstage for the last 20 or so minutes of rehearsal, then went into the hall as the orchestra was getting off stage. Apparently mostly everyone didn't think I'd be here for another 2 weeks, so it was fun seeing everyone's faces- especially those who didn't know I was coming, at all!

Lovely dinner with Ginette, Jorg, and eventually Carmine. Concert, return home, visit with flatmates, BED!