JaneAusten-itis

I've been a Jane Austen fan for a number of years now, but lately, there seems to be a huge trend in this direction. When the new Pride and Prejudice came out a few years ago, I bonded with many of my residents (I was an RA for 2 years) as we compared the 2005 movie with Colin Firth's much beloved classic version. (Side note: I am secretly so jealous of Keira Knightley. She is just a few months older than I am, and she's already played leading lady to so many gorgeous men. She was 17 when she kissed Orlando Bloom in Pirates!)

Back to the topic at hand:
I remember seeing The Jane Austen Book Club on a library shelf and I knew I had to read it. I wasn't incredibly impressed, and I have made no effort to see last year's movie based on the book. Last summer, my sister and I saw Becoming Jane, which we both loved (and not just because of James McAvoy) ... and I have yet to read that book.

The past few weeks, I've been even more inspired on this trend after having dinner with an old friend. A friend of hers had recommended that she read Mr. Darcy's Diary. My friend loved it. I happened to be in Borders the next day, and I had a coupon and a gift card burning holes in my pocket ... so ... the book leapt into my arms and convinced me that I must buy it. So I did. It started out slowly, and I wondered if I had wisely spent my $15 (before coupon) ... but ... as the story picked up, relating to familiar passages from Pride and Prejudice, I realized I thoroughly enjoyed it. As I was still on my Winter Break, I was able to finish it quickly without many interruptions. I do recommend it ... and I believe that after I re-read Sense and Sensibility, I'll have to pick up Mr. Knightley's Diary.

The day after I finished that book, I went to Target with my mother to pick up some last-minute things before my return to school. Two more books hopped into the cart, and I simply couldn't stop them!

Me & Mr. Darcy looked incredibly promising. A typical American girl (from NYC, as every "typical American girl" has to be from NYC, right? Why not someone from Minnesota or South Carolina?) goes on a tour of Jane Austen's London, and somehow she runs into the real Mr. Darcy from the novel. I suppose I should have guessed from the glaring grammatical error in the title that this book was not for me. As it was, I thought that while parts of the book were original, it obviously mirrored the plot of Pride and Prejudice and was overall not as enjoyable as I had expected it would be.

I started reading the final book, The Lost Memoirs of Jane Austen, this week. I started reading a chapter a night ... but ... lost my self-control to limit myself to only one chapter. I finished reading it last night! Such a wonderful book!!! Written from Miss Austen's own perspective by a Jane Austen scholar, it is a glorious tale of a romance. The fiction in the work is seamlessly interwoven with the facts we know of Miss Austen's life. The writing is exquisite. I'm so glad I saved this book for last, as it was an immensely satisfying read!

Unexpected kindness

A week ago, I pulled off the highway into the first gas station to refuel before meeting an old friend. I'd never been to a self-service station before, and I was surprised and pleased by the pampering I received. Sure, the employees were doing their job ... but I didn't have to exit my car and stand outside in the cold and they cleaned my windshield too! I was appreciative of those simple pleasures.
~*~*~*~

Yesterday afternoon as I walked down the hallway, I gazed out the large window overlooking the area. Thousands of wispy snowflakes were floating in the air. Pure white lace graced the ground, and when I returned to my car after evening classes, it was lightly dusted. I had offered to drive a new student home (a GA who has been in the country for less than a week!), and I unlocked and started the car so he could sit inside while I cleared off the snow.

"Let me," he said, gesturing for me to pass him the snow scraper. I acquiesced, and handed the scraper to him across the hood of my car. I stood there for a few moments, expecting him to pass it back when he'd finished with the passenger side of the windshield, but I realized that he intended to wipe away the snow from all the windows. Feeling extremely pampered and a little foolish (for not recognizing his gallantry immediately), I snuggled into my seat as the temperature in the car continued to rise above the freezing temperature outside.

So cute :-)

After spending a lovely Saturday afternoon out on the town, my relatives and I returned home to relax. While my sister and I helped our aunt unpack the groceries, our uncle disappeared. We ladies made our way to the living room to talk before starting the dinner preparations. There, in his favorite armchair, Uncle had nodded off.

Our aunt (who is in her mid-80s) exclaimed, chuckling, "Look, he's showing his age!" (Her husband is a few years younger than she is.)

Sister and I exchanged amused glances and attempted to stifle our giggles while Aunt launched into another of the many wonderful tales we heard that weekend.

At one point, Uncle awoke with a start.

"Are you done with your nap, old man?" Aunt asked.

"Yes, yes," he said in his gentle voice which was softened by sleepiness.

"What woke you up?" she persisted.

"You did!" he retorted, in a mockingly defensive tone, with a smile.

Sister and I convulsed with silent giggles at their good-natured banter. :-) So cute.

First impressions

As I anticipated the start of this semester, I found myself saying, "I should be graduating in May," not "I will be graduating in May." Knowing that I am technically taking more credits than I'm permitted to take (thanks to professors who are allowing me to audit classes), I'm nervous that I won't be able to do it all. I'm afraid of failure, and I keep joking about hoping to survive this semester.

Yesterday was a deceptively easy day because the office hasn't informed us peons of when our scheduled duty hours are. (Just kidding about the peons part. They do treat us well, and only once has a professor treated me condescendingly.)

Somehow I feel more confident now that while this semester will likely have its "Why did I get myself into this chaos?!" moments, I will enjoy the next few months. When I made music with the other members of my ensemble yesterday for the first time in several weeks, I was reminded that this is where I belong. This is why I chose this profession. If I can freely engage my heart and entire being when I make music, there can be no doubt. I will survive.

Relief

Last semester, like many musicians, I accepted a side job at a church. I've been involved in music ministry since I was 14, and I've had a paying church job for part of every year since I was 15. This position required me to serve in a different capacity, and I relished the opportunity to broaden my experience. (My salary was HALF of what I made at my job while at AlmaMater; the experience I have would command more than the little bit I was to earn from this church, but I considered that I was doing this out of the goodness of my heart.)

It was challenging at first, and I was surprised and uncomfortable with how the pastor and I didn't always see eye to eye. Last month, weather conditions prevented me from commuting to the church TWICE, and upon my reception of the position, it was understood that I would not be driving several hours from my home to the church over the Christmas break. I have not been there for over a month.

I enjoyed getting to know the other choristers, but overall, I was unhappy with my situation there. Spiritually, I felt unsatisfied. I didn't know whether I ought to quit; I didn't want to leave them in a hard place. I figured I'd give it some more time and try to change my attitude.

When I returned to my apartment yesterday, I saw that I had received a letter from the church. I quickly opened it, having no idea what the contents might be, and promptly let out a squeal of delight! The pastor wrote that the choir had struggled without my presence there over Advent, and he was concerned that my other obligations this semester (conferences and Spring Break) might hinder the music ministry. My tenure there was over, effective immediately.

Thank God! The pastor went on to say that this was no reflection on me, and then he extolled my personality traits and God-given gifts that he and the choir had appreciated, etc, etc, etc. He also offered to write me a letter of recommendation. I wrote him back a very sweet note wishing them well, and I'll send my key back. I couldn't have asked for this to resolve in a better way.

When I told my parents and another friend about this, I joked, "I don't think anyone else has ever been so happy to be let go." :-)

My brief vacation from blogging

I spent the last few days visiting family before returning to GradSchool. My sister and I had some precious bonding time at her school (frozen pizza + movies on Wednesday night, one of my few dinner specialties + good conversation on Thursday night). Very enjoyable.


While my sister had her class obligations on Friday, I drove a few hours to visit an old friend from AlmaMater. We walked around his current college town (very pleasant, my first visit there), grabbed lunch at a spunky restaurant (in which people write all over the wallpaper and on the tables- and it's encouraged!), and took in a movie. Fun times!

After that visiting, my sister and I both drove over to see our relatives who live somewhere between Sister's school and my school. Stories galore (!), more than enough amazing food, and some fun care packages to take back with us to our respective apartments. These relatives are so grateful to us for coming; they act like we're doing them a favor by visiting! Not at all! Sister and I love spending time with them, and we go because we want to see them! (And ... I have to admit ... I do enjoy being spoiled!) :-)


Now I'm back at GradSchool, and I'm far too lazy to go grocery-shopping. I have changed into my oh-so-comfy T-shirt and pajama pants, and I plan to go to bed early so that I am fresh for tomorrow's classes! 'Night!

I should have blogged the lost

A couple of weeks ago, I finally got around to ordering a book I needed. I'd bought the fantastic resource (Teaching Kids to Sing) about 4 years ago for a class, and it disappeared a little over 2 years ago. I searched through my chaotic room, through all of the places where I've kept textbooks, and anywhere else I could think to look. I've had to borrow others' copies of this book for my own research. I thought that I might have lent it to a friend and that it had become forever lost. So recently, I finally decided that I ought to order the $90 book.

It arrived last week and I was pleased to have my own copy once again. I didn't even mind that the cover of the supposedly brand-new book was bent because the packaging person hadn't been careful.

Today, I put that book in a box and carried it out to my car. I'm leaving home tomorrow for a short road trip (to visit my sister and other relatives) before I head back to school. As I was putting the box behind the driver's seat of the car, I noticed that the back of the passenger's seat had a pocket.

Perfect, I thought. I'll put my umbrella (a Christmas gift) in there so it's not just lying on the floor. It occurred to me that I ought to check the pouch, even though I'd never recalled using it, just in case a careless passenger had shoved trash in there or in case I found a misplaced map.

What did I find?

The book, of course. There I was, with one book in my hand, and the newly acquired copy in the box in my other hand.

When I manage to sell the new copy (because my older, beloved copy has my name written inside the cover with certain passages underlined), I will finally buy some of the other resources I'd like to own (but which I'm too cheap to buy 'cause I'm not sure if I really need them) with that money. In the meantime, I'll continue smacking my head against the wall.