All good things must come to an end, especially vacations, which seem designed, when their last moments are slipping through your fingers, specifically for the purpose of breaking your heart. And though I had two glorious weeks to squander on things that weren't really obligations as much as experiences, the time still seemed far too short.
On a blisteringly cold Münchner day, bags in tow, Laura and I headed to the airport, said our goodbyes, and I, for the (how many times has it been this year?) time, hopped the country. Stepping off the plane into a blisteringly cold Sofiiski night, I caught a bus and eventually made my way back to my desolate, lonely, abandoned apartment, pining away for somebody to live in it after standing empty for two weeks.
I made the executive decision to spend the rest of the week getting my business back in order, and it's a good thing I did, because there was plenty of it. While in Munich, I heard back from the first of the grad schools I applied to. Things on that front didn't get off to such a hot start; the first email I received (six years after my last applications to institutions of high learning, six years after receiving packet after bulky packet in the mail, these processes have finally been digitized, truly bringing Academia into the 21st century) was my rejection letter from Michigan.
Good news was on the way, though - a few days later, I got the enormously relief-bearing email that I was in at USC,--my alma mater--no audition necessary. So I was going to Grad School.
I'm going to Grad School.
I could, at this point, delve into a theatrical account of all the anticipation and emotional ups-and-downs to which I've been subjected as the very nature of my future has changed and hung in the balance, but I won't; that would be silly and obnoxious. Or maybe I just did.
To make what would otherwise be short, insubstantial stories even shorter, I have, as of this writing, auditions at Westminster Choir College and, to my tremendous and happy surprise, Yale. I have yet to hear back from UNT, but all things in due time, I suppose.
What has ensued as a result of these pieces of news has been a mad scramble to prepare. I'm in a moderately precarious position - not currently engaged in choral activities, the music I need difficult to obtain in this corner of the Balkans, primitive piano skills more or less laying dormant, efforts to revive them sure to be a struggle. As I see it, I'm at several disadvantages relative to all the other applicants eying the same openings I am, and the only way I can possibly compete with them is to work harder than all of them.
So I will.
Anyway:
January 3rd was the day I dove, for the first time in my life, into the unrewarding, chaotic primordial swamp of tax returns - qualifying for Federal Aid means filling out the FAFSA, and filling out the FAFSA means doing your taxes, and as close to January 1st as possible. Seven (!) hours later, I emerged, mostly triumphant, having filled out the first 1040 (and Schedule C, and Schedule SE) of my life. And though it put me in the mood to unleash my accumulated wrath by devouring something unsuitable for being devoured (someone's head not being entirely outside the realm of possibility), it was another uplifting--for lack of a better word, as this subject has caused my adjectival vocabulary to fail me--sign of my impending Independence and Adulthood (Complete).
A few more days into the New Year, I had to bid farewell to fellow Fulbrighter Greg and his family, his grant being only a half-year affair, terminating on January 5th. We had one last ukulele-guitar-trumpet-clarinet session in the Sofia Metro, had dinner, and with that, that particular chapter of our collective stay came to a close. Come Monday morning, I was back on the research horse.
The New Year marked a slight shift in how I'll be carrying out my research. For the past four months, I've been living in the library several hours a day, studying books of venerable age and unsatisfactory readability, some in archaic Bulgarian. Now, my intention--being armed with a thoroughly basic basically thorough knowledge of my subject--is to actually get out into the field and watch Shopski Folklore being made by real people, a turning point as momentous, I suppose, as any academic shift can be. I have my attendance at several festivals lined up in the next few weeks, and perhaps a few personal interviews as well, if I can swing it. It could turn out to be, perhaps, both a good time and a good story.
So my time, it now appears, is at a premium. My days, for the past week and a half, have gone something like this: Wake up, eat breakfast, shower, go to the library, head out for a coffee and some studying, come home, answer emails, go to the gym, come home again, take a shower, work on audition repertoire, fin, repeat. This is a positive development, if viewed the right way. I'm certainly not bored--not that I ever really have been this year-- and I've found more than enough things to fill up the whole of my day.
The flip side of this coin is the stress that comes with it. The Westminster and Yale auditions are--and will continue to be, right up to the moment they're over--big, important, nerve-wracking affairs, and I will never forgive myself if I fail to prepare to the fullest extent I can. Life Goal Mode has most certainly been engaged, Life Goals demand a lot of time.
What has been mildly astonishing to me is that I haven't felt bad about being so busy. There was a time in my life when I would curse the Universe, the Establishment, or any other Power for dumping so much on me and keeping me so busy. But now, while I may not be enjoying having so much to do...I don't mind it so much. It's kept my mind off of petty things and given me little time to engage in some of the unhealthier habits in my life, Facebook being first and foremost among them. I am engaged and absorbed, to use affirmative, uplifting language, which, of course, we don't absolutely need to do. It's rewarding, not necessarily in an Utterly Fulfilling sort of way, but in a step-back-and-look-at-what-you're-doing sort of way. I am breaking the mental chains of my own laziness - out of necessity, yes, not quickly or efficiently, no, but it's happening all the same.
But before I devolve too much further into self-aggrandizing back-patting (which has been a regrettably common occurrence around these parts, and for that, I apologize), let me just say that there is no shortage of things I'm shooting for right now, and it feels, at once, both good and stressful.
Thus has been the substance of the weeks subsequent to my German Adventures.
Next post: The tale of my spontaneous trip to yet another wicked cool city of Europe. Keep reading! (Please?)
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