Recital 2013

It's been almost a week since my voice recital in SSC School of Music. It's been quite fun.

We started with the solo song selection around February 2013. My teacher and I went through our entire "repertoire" and narrowed the selection to one. As you may have known, we picked Send In The Clowns. Its contender is Memory (from Cats). I thought it would be easier to interpret than to shift placements so I picked SITC. We spent weeks and months planning the "attacks" for each note and trying to keep the technique in my second nature and muscle memory. I had two waterloos: the ti's and the bridge. I did most of the song in my chest voice. I can actually do the whole song in my high chest but to add color or variety and for more security and ease... we shifted placements.

All of the recitalists rehearsed the songs and choreography during Saturdays. I missed one class for one song rehearsal but I was able to make up for it. I met a bunch of kids and a few adults. I met the other teacher and the pianist as well. Everyone was really nice. It was fun to have spent some days with them.

We had the last two rehearsals at the hall itself. It was humid on the first day but cold on the second. We practiced with the blockings, choreo, and mic. I thought my performance was okay on the first day but my teacher wasn't there to confirm since she was printing the programmes. My second performance was a little less okay than the first. My teacher was there and told me that my voice broke. Oh well. It always does! Ensemble numbers were okay but we barely harmonized especially on the finale. Must had been because of singing and dancing at the same time.

Come recital day, I woke up early for my salon appointment. We went to the one in GB3. Romeo was my stylist and I loved my make up! I ate my lunch in the car and I went straight to SSC. I saw my teacher and few students already there. We waited a while and started vocal and physical warm ups. We had a lot of downtime before our numbers so we chatted and the kids played.

My performance was okay... had my voice not broken obviously. It broke not in my waterloo part but after it. In hindsight, it must have been what my teacher said a lot of times before: don't rest once you finished your high notes... lead and keep the energy until the phrase is over. I just made up and covered the break with emotions. I wanted to melt that time, really and it kind of makes me cringe everytime I remember and hear the break in my head.

Most people said that the performance was okay. Kiddos said that the message of the song came across. Hearing those from 4 different people was a joy and a big leap from my "mechanical" performance weeks before the recital. I think I've gotten over the break already and I am now looking back at the performances in happy light.

I will improve and show you all better. :)

Excuse you.

Probably my greatest pet peeve is when people fail to cover their nose or mouth when they sneeze or cough. My annoyance goes to a higher level when those people do them in front or a few inches from me. I automatically look straight to the person and give him or her a piercing stare.

I find this very unhygienic, disgusting, and insensitive. Why include everyone else in your problem? Ugh.

I am sick at the moment. My nose is running and it is sore from all the tissue wiping. I blame the weather and everyone who sneezed and coughed near me, if not on my face. Tss.

Youch?

So... after 21 years of not having my arms waxed, I finally had them waxed a few hours ago. I had them done at the Lay Bare near us. It took them a few minutes to finish both my arms. They started on my fingers then worked their way up to my shoulders. It was tolerable at first but when they reached my elbow, oh the pain! I asked if they can do one arm at a time, they didn't respond. I got a bit annoyed so I said to myself that I would just endure the pain and get this over and done with.

My skin feels smoother now. It's kind of itchy though. They told me my skin is sensitive that's why I am having weird blood clots under my arm. Oh well. One more thing off my bucket list. :)

Where are the clowns?

The spirit of my Send In The Clowns interpretation is running through my veins and taking a layover in my heart. I know I told myself that I should move on from this feeling, from this thinking. But once in a while, especially when we have to perform something that would remind us of it, we all get off track.

My chest felt heavy during the last part and after my turn in rehearsal. It's the kind of heaviness you feel when you are about to cry. I came in 2 seconds late because I prepared my phone for recording my performance. I was asked to hurry up because it was almost 3 and we hadn't started with the dance yet. I thought my move was unprofessional so I immediately sprang up from my seat and asked the accompanist to start right away. I breathed deeply, tried to remember the context of my song in those 8 seconds of intro, and just let myself go.

So, yes, I got off key in the part where I always get off key... and it's quite irritating that I still don't get it even though I practice it a lot but let's not fall attention to that. The song was emotionally exhausting. That performance was the most exhausting performance I did in my entire life. I felt like I bared my soul. More than the off key, more than the questioning if it's worth it to break my walls down to mostly kids who have yet to live more life to understand me, more than anything, I felt that same pain 10 months ago. The fear. The hurt. It was like I transported myself back to that time. The time that I really want to forget and move on from. To add to the misery, here I am 10 months after. Still not knowing how my life would turn out to be. Still filled with questions, confusions, a few "what ifs" here and there, and just being irritated that I still haven't found what I have been looking for.

Isn't it rich?
Isn't it queer?
Losing my timing this late.

Where are the clowns?
It's almost next year.
Send in the clowns.

Gastroscopy

As scheduled, I underwent gastroscopy this morning. I fasted for more than 6 hours before the procedure. Not eating was easy. Not drinking water was hard. I had the urge to drink water after waking up. My rebel mind even dreamt of biting a Cloud 9 bar (of all the food?!) then spitting it immediately after remembering the gastroscopy.

We came in the department 30 minutes early. Some paperwork had to be done and a few questions had to be answered. One of the things that bugged me early this morning was the question, "Are you employed?" addressed to my mom. Well, I digress. Just imagine what I thought about that line.

I was accompanied by the nurse to the hallway. My mom had to wait outside. I waited for a while in the couch and then transferred to the armchair for the IV. An older woman came before me and I just stared. I wanted to see what would happen. I was a little scared but I kept consoling myself that all the pain would only be in the IV. I would be sedated in the whole procedure. When it was my turn for the IV, the nurse found my veins too thin. It took her a few minutes to finally insert the IV. It was really painful! There was a time when the needle was being pulled back and forth through my skin. I thought it was weird but I figured that she knew better than I did. Also, have you ever seen your hands find something underneath the bed sheet? That was how a part of the IV insertion went. The hand moving left and right like a wiper was the needle while the bed sheet was my skin. It felt bad. I can't believe the woman before me only took seconds for her IV! I pretended to be strong for the people looking at me... and well, for myself. True enough, I believed I was strong and endured the brouhaha of the IV.

After a while, I went to the gastroscopy room. I met my anesthesiologist here. I met my doctor and fellow beforehand. If I'm not mistaken, there were around 6 people in the room with me during the procedure. I laid on my left side with my legs curled (favorite part!). Fetus position-ish. They placed some heart monitors, bp monitor, and oxygen. I thought the oxygen was pretty cool. When it was put in my nose, I breathed through my mouth for a good 3 breaths because I thought that the oxygen would surge fast into my head. Well, paranoid me. It wasn't like that at all. The air just flowed gently out of the tubes. Last time I had oxygen, I wore a mask, not the tube. I was given local anesthesia after that. Mouth spray. I had that a couple of times already so I was okay with it.

Before the procedure, the nurse said some of the patient's history (oh yeah, 3rd person) for everyone in the room. I thought that was cute. I was rooting for her good speech in my head. Well, it's not really a speech. I was just happy that she was there, standing confident and talking. Right after her lines, I felt like my right hand was being chopped slowly. Staggering pain coming from the IV. It almost felt like Twinrix was being injected into my hand. It was the sedative. I don't really remember which happened first, the speech or the sedative. It doesn't really matter. Instead of moving my hand away, I jolted my head to the direction of my right hand. I might have looked like an owl who just saw its meal. Haha! In hindsight, I should have moved my hand instead of moving my head. Either a nurse was holding my hand firmly or I was too careful about my already painful IV to wiggle it around. After the pain, I laid calmly again. After maybe 3 seconds, I was sedated. Goodness! How strong must that have been?!

I woke up in the recovery room feeling high. I saw my mom and I asked her to take a picture. Tears were falling down from my eyes and my nose was snotty. I don't know why! I had to ask for tissue. After a minute or so, my mom left and I tried sleeping again. It didn't work so I just closed my eyes and placed the blanket over my head because the light was too bright! Not much help really but it was something. I sang Firework in my head. Half-worrying I might have forgotten. After many attempts, I got the song right and tried giving sleep another try. Still didn't work. Though I felt like I was floating, I told the nurse that I was okay. They removed my IV (much to my dismay, removing it didn't remove the pain) and I went straight to the bathroom! I went to my mom afterwards then to the doctor's clinic. My doctor discussed the results and I am for ultrasound in 2 weeks!

My right hand is bruised as I type this. My throat feels okay. My eyes feel sleepy. I am okay, technically. It was cool having experienced it, though I really didn't know what happened. I only hope to be fully okay soon enough. :)

Me at the recovery room. Still high from the sedative.

Why?!

I missed lunch today (or yesterday, technically) because I got so sleepy due to the heat. I slept a good 4 hours or so! I couldn't believe it because I slept 3 hours after waking up in the morning. If that confuses you, let me give you numbers. I slept at 4 am, woke up at 10, slept at 1, then woke up at 5 pm! I felt like I was jet lagged or something! Anyway, that's not my point, really. It's the dream that I remember I had in those 4 hours of siesta.

I was in a lobby of this modern building with some of my college friends. From the lobby, you can see a huge  wall slide where people from, I guess, the 3rd floor can slide all the way down to the ground floor. It's a pretty amazing sight. Especially seeing people clad in pure white while sliding. Anyway, for some reason, I was transported to a room like the GSR in St. Scho. The room was occupied by my *drumroll* former med school classmates. Well, I can't really say if they were the ones but in my mind, I knew they were supposed to be the ones. I had this one week pass where I can sit in their classes and just be a med student. It felt so weird. When I entered the room, only a few remembered and there were a lot of mumbling. I even gave a note to the professor that I was in med before and I am on my one-week visit at the moment. I sat beside my friends and the lecture started. Listening to the lecture made me remember why I wanted to leave. It made me remember the stress and the self-doubt. It was awful. It was weird.

Funny how, of all the times this past year, I dreamt about this now. Now that I made a deal with myself that I will move on and be happy. What's up, mind?! Messing with me? April Fools joke to myself, is this?

Oh well. Moving on with what I have now and trying to be positive again.