Return....

I have arrived back in Binghamton and am currently resisting the urge to knock on the door of the guy down the hall and bitch-slap him for playing his music so loudly.  I am EXHAUSTED, but I kinda feel stupid asking him to turn it down before 10 pm on a Saturday night.  But once 10 pm rolls around, it is WAR buddy! 

Oh Lord, and then I have to work on Menotti all day tomorrow.  SAY IT AIN'T SO!!!!!!

I'm running back to Michigan and hiding under my childhood bed as soon as possible.

Useless Information....

Between no internet and traveling, I have been remiss in my posting duties. And I am about to get worse, as I am heading out to Baltimore and Washington D.C. tomorrow morning at the butt-crack of dawn. I will be back to regular posting next Sunday, so please bear with me until then. And, by all means, feel free to admonish me soundly in the comments section.

But now, I present to you my favorite bits of useless facts from my new book; The AMAZING Book of Useless Information by Noel Botham and The Useless Information Society:

• The first exposed breasts on television were those of film star Jayne Mansfield, who exhaled at the 1957 Academy Awards and accidently let it all hang out. Uhhhh, never been a problem I've had, but I have seen quite a few sopranos who should take this story as a warning.
• An excerpt from Kentucky state legislation: "No female shall appear in a bathing suit on any highway unless she be escorted by at least two officers or unless she be armed with a club." When I am in a bathing suit, I am pretty sure the pale skin works better to ward off would-be attackers than either cops or a club. But I carry a club anyway....you can never be too careful!
• Roman law stated that prostitutes were to either dye their hair blond or wear a blond wig to separate themselves from the respectable brunette citizens of Rome. I guess that explains Paris Hilton.....
• It is illegal to swim in Central Park, New York. Unless you just had a bad audition, in which case, all bets are off...
• Chocolate chip cookies are the baked goods most likely to cause tooth decay. Pies, un-iced cakes, and doughnuts are less harmful to the teeth. First off, who wants to eat an un-iced cake? Secondly, I am switching over to an all-pie diet. For the health of my teeth, of course!
• Studying the experimentally induced behavior in ants in 1888, naturalist John Lubbock noticed that insects that had too much to drink were picked up by nest mates and carried home. Conversely, drunken stranger ants were summarily tossed in a ditch. Which would explain why I kept waking up by the side of the road in college.
  
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Internet Problems...

I have been having internet problems the last two days, and it is kind of awkward to walk down to the store below me (where I am "borrowing" my internet from) and ask them to fix the situation. As a result, I have to hang tight until they do something about it.  I am flying out to Michigan tomorrow (EARLY!) for 48 hours and then heading to Baltimore.  I will try to post at Mom's house tomorrow, if I ever make it.

Thank you for your patience!

I feel better now....

Drivin' me crazy....

My friend Anne Marie recently went to New Orleans for a week to sing a concert and was kind enough to let me "car sit" while she was away.  While I lived in Boston, I had no need for a car, since having a motor vehicle is considered hazardous to one's health while living in the city. And, having driven there, I would concur with that statement.  In fact, I am pretty sure I almost had an aneurysm between trying to park and attempting to change lanes with unfriendly motorists blocking my every move.  And, while the Boston public transportation systems leave much to be desired, you at least had a choice between the subway or the bus, and most of the subway stops were covered, so at least you could get out of the constant Massachusetts rain.  

Not so here in Binghamton.  In fact, if the city bus comes within 45 minutes of it's scheduled time, consider yourself lucky.  If the weather isn't too horrifying, I generally walk the 15 blocks downtown to the gym and the library, because it is usually faster and I can get some cardio in at the same time.  And when the bus finally comes, the people on it are usually so horrifying that you are left wishing that you had hitchhiked instead.  Look, in Boston, EVERYONE takes public transportation, because the traffic is so awful.  Here in Binghamton, only the scary and mentally ill take the bus....and I am not sure which category I fit into.

So, as you can imagine, having a car for a week (without the Boston traffic) was AWESOME!  I didn't have to obey anyone else's time schedule but my own and, without the dreaded bus ride/walk to deal with, I went to the gym everyday.  And check out these biceps of steel! However, since it wasn't my car, I was hypersensitive about driving it, so I probably drove like an old lady most of the time.  And since I had access to the mall, Target, Staples and TJ Maxx, I probably spent more money than I should have this past week.  But how can you say no to a 9 pm run to Wegman's?  And the chance to wander Target without worrying about boring the person who was kind enough to drive you?  And don't even get me started on the two hours I got to spend in Barnes and Noble, just smelling all the new books.  What, don't tell me you don't have an addicted to that "new book smell?"  

I had to return the car yesterday and I almost walked out of my apartment this morning, thinking I could just hop in my car and run to the gym.  And then I returned to my apartment and started mourning my loss of freedom.

Blood on the Ice...

Saturday night found me in the stands of Binghamton's Arena, screaming "FIGHT!" while I stood on top of my assigned seat.  I'm not terribly proud of my actions, but rest easy knowing that they were fueled by the two small bottles of vodka I smuggled into the rink in my bra. Yup, in my BRA.  Because how the hell else are you supposed to watch sports, if not inebriated?  The same theory also works for opera.

I had tickets to the V-Day game of the Binghamton Senators vs the Philadelphia Phantoms, and I walked in without knowing a thing about hockey, other than that they happened to get into fights every now and then and no one had any teeth.  In actuality, no one got into a fight during the game, though they came close.  Which is how my friend and I ended up on our chairs, yelling like Roman citizens in the Coliseum.  Every time two guys got into each other's faces, we were ready to egg them on.  Too bad all fights were diffused before they began.  Stupid referees.

As for the booze, I'm not proud of my actions, but I am not a fan of beer and we figured we might as well add a little je ne sais quoi to the overpriced sodas they were selling.  However, pouring warm vodka (from the skin contact in my bra) into a soda cup whilst in the Ladies Room did sort of bring me back to my undergrad days.  And you have to be fairly tipsy to be willing to put your lips on a straw you brought into a sports complex bathroom.  I feel like I should be getting antibiotics today.

But I kind of liked the game....let's hear it for something that moves ten times faster than football (AKA: the most boring, mind-numbing game on EARTH).  And it was pretty easy to follow, which is key when you are kind of drunk and could care less for the rules of play.  And, quite frankly, hockey players are kind of cute, though I hear you gotta get to them early, before all the teeth go.  And I even have a Binghamton Senators sweatshirt, so that I would fit in better with my fellow hockey fans.  I am fully ready to be immersed in this new form of entertainment.

'Cause none of the fights are real in opera, and I gotta get my jollies somewhere.

Happy Birthday to Me!

I keep thinking that the closer I get to thirty, the more mature I am going to get.  Alas, it is not to be.  In fact, I am pretty sure I am regressing.  However, I get to have dinner with all my friends here in Binghamton, so things aren't all bad.

A post to follow tomorrow on my night at the hockey rink.

Yes, you read that right.  Hockey rink.

I am not cut out for this.....

I give up on this whole Outreach crap.  That's it, I no longer want to parade around in a pig suit, destroying my voice for the amusement of elementary school children!  Especially if I have to get up at 5:30 am for the pleasure of doing all that, plus unloading and loading up my own set. And, for God's sake, is it too much to ask to have my costume cleaned in between shows?  I hate to be a diva about this, but I don't have the coins to clean a fat suit on my own, and the outfit is starting to stand up on its own from all the performances I have sweat through.  

Today was especially delightful, because we were doing a "residency," which meant that we had to do four short "lectures" on our show and then perform for the amusement of 10-year-olds. YOU try explaining to a kid why you are a girl, playing a boy, who sings like a girl and looks nothing like a boy with these hips.  The best I could come up with is that "composers are sick bastards," and that isn't really proper to mention when talking with children.....and their disapproving teachers.  By the end of the four sessions, we were punchy beyond belief and were quietly making jokes about each other's sex lives under our breaths.

And every moment we had free, we all were snuggling up with our fat suits, trying to get some sort of shut-eye.  Which is difficult when you are sleeping behind your opera set in a cafeteria, while children scream around you....and the whole place smells like bad tacos.  And good tacos don't smell so great, so you can only IMAGINE what bad tacos smell like.  And when we weren't trying to sleep, we were figuring out how we could buy a cow from the stockyard across the street and save its life.  Dude, we totally have a truck to put it in!  

So, by the end of the day, we were exhausted to the point of insanity and kept shouting "Beaver Feces" on the car ride home.   Yeah, I know that makes no sense and is gross, but it is so HILARIOUS to shout, especially after you have spent the day around children.

Swear words work too.

Thursday...

It is rainy, windy and gloomy here today, which sort of matches my mood.  I have another Outreach/Piggy show tomorrow (call time, 6:45 am!) so I am sure to have further stories.  As for right now, I am sticking close to home and pounding out some more notes for Old Maid and the Thief...which sounds kind of dirty, now that I re-read that.

You want exciting news?  Then YOU go out in the downpour.  My chocolate frozen yogurt and I are just fine here, thank you.

Amen...

I am pretty sure I have this thought at least once a day...but I actually got a couple of degrees. No, mine generally goes more like "I should have been an accountant....or a cage-fighter," after I resist the urge to lunge over some jack-ass judges' table at a competition and teach them a lesson in manners.

NYC...

I am in New York City all day tomorrow and will not be posting, because I will be going and coming back in the same day and will be in BUS HELL!

Pray for me.

Gala.....

This past weekend was the big 60th Anniversary Gala for Tri-Cities Opera.  And while I didn't do much more than sing in a few quartets and in the chorus, I feel like I have been run over by a truck.  I suspect that is because I had to be in formal-wear for three straight days, which meant that I had to wear heels AND Spanx.  The Spanx alone took me about half-an-hour of blood, sweat and tears to get on, because those suckers don't mess around, and by the time I was dressed, I was ready to take a nap.

And there is so much to tell: the inappropriate outfits that the various divas showed up in, some which hadn't been updated since the 70's, the fights backstage, the voices of over-the-hill opera singers who wanted to get in one more performance to prove themselves, the creepy chorus members (who were members of the community, not singers...though some of them are kind of creepy too), the rude comments by the conductors, the awkward "celebratory" party afterwords for those who had performed......

Too bad I can't tell you about any of it in detail.

Yeah, I know, I have made it a point to tell it like it is on this blog, especially when it comes to the opera world, because SOMEONE needs to call them on their shit.  But too many people around here can get to this website and can piece enough details together to figure out who spilled all the dirty secrets of the Gala.  And while I may not like it around here, I certainly don't want to be kicked out before my apartment lease is up.  So please know that I am desperate to tell you everything, but I can't.

However, if you happen to see me on the streets, please feel free to stop me and ask for details. I would be delighted to tell you about all the goings-on, though it may take awhile.

Sorry guys, but every now and then I gotta watch out for my future.  My mother would be so proud.

Apartments...

As of right now, I am planning to flee back to Boston after my gig here in Binghamton ends.  So I decided to go on CraigsList this morning and check out what kind of apartments were out there, even if it is a little early in the season to be looking for single rooms.

HOLY MOLY, I have been spoiled by Binghamton prices for way too long.  For $160 MORE than I pay for my two bedroom apartment right now, I could be the proud owner of a tiny room with NO utilities included.  Lucky me!  In fact, my apartment here in Binghamton would probably go for around $1,300 a month in Boston.  Of course, there is the trade-off of being in a REAL city with a REAL public transportation and people with all their teeth, but I have been paying "dying city" prices so long that I forget how real people live.

And then I looked up the prices of apartments in San Francisco and now feel like Boston is a steal compared to the OUTRAGEOUSLY STEEP real estate market out west.  Insert sigh of relief here.

Desperate Housewife....

I have been a bit under the weather, so I thought I would cheer myself up with a bit of celebrity ridicule.  And, don't get me wrong, I love me some Rhianna and have professed my love for her several times on this very website, but her outfit here confuses me.  She has been rocking the dominatrix/Mad Max look for a while now, so it seems odd that now she has switched over to pearls and french blue.  And I am not sure if WASP-y women wear mini skirts with their "country club" outfits.  Especially if said mini-skirts hit one at a most unflattering length.  If that skirt came to just above her knee, her thighs would look slimmer and it might not look like she put on a white tutu and called it a day. And, judging from the hand gesture from her friend (who is mostly cut out of the picture) I would suspect that said friend is telling her the exact same thing.

So do us all a favor and dig those leather pants back out, okay? Thanks.

*Photo courtesy of The Media Circuit/INF

Ciara....

I only really know one or two songs that Ciara performs, so I don't know enough about her to declare whether I like her or not. What I do know is that I am shamelessly in love with her ruffled jacket and gold Louis Vuitton purse.  Look how cute that coat is...she is like an awesomely hip Little Lord Fauntleroy!  Do you have any idea how many outfits I would coordinate that coat with?  And, since I am an opera singer, people would forgive it's slightly kooky appearance because, after all, I am an artiste.

As for the purse, usually I am against Louis Vuitton on the principle that almost all their purses (which range from the ridiculous $700 all they way up into the thousands) are made out of laminated canvas and the only leather on them is usually the trim.  Which begs the question; why so much for a material I could get on any TJ Maxx purse, but for half the price?  And, since I know the truth about their materials, I secretly chuckle to my self whenever I see some poor, misguided "fashionista" lugging around one of those bags.  Good for you!  I can buy two well-made leather purses for the price you paid for that (snort) CANVAS.

But I kind of like the gold-plated Louis she is rocking in the picture.  Not only is it shiny (oooooh...shinnny), but I like the shape, since you can set it down and not worry about the whole purse tipping over and your tampons spilling out.  And, while it is gold, the color has enough black undertones that it could probably go with just about anything, despite its "Las Vegas" look.  So, if anyone has an extra $2,000 to spend on a purse, please feel free to send this purse to my miserable abode in Binghamton, NY.  It should be a hit on the city bus!

*Photo courtesy of Dara Kushner/INF

Radiation Lust.....

Last week I blew up my microwave.  Nope, not kidding about that, I TOLD you I can't handle making food.  However, losing my microwave was particularly devastating because the only kind of "cooking" I know how to do involves using the microwave as a main ingredient. Especially when the rest of the instructions are "unwrap Lean Pocket, put into microwave, start microwave."  And who knew that you needed to poke holes in a sweet potato before you pop it in for 13 minutes?  Okay, I knew that, but I was kind of in a rush and I may have forgotten the whole "holes" thing.  And halfway through cooking my un-poked potato, it exploded and blew my microwave door open.  And then said microwave spat out half my potato, clear across the kitchen. It was THAT pissed.

Oops.

Needless to say, my microwave is dead, long live the microwave.  Of course, I was panicked, because I was going to go hungry without my radiation machine and had to make an emergency trip to Target with some friends to replace my food-maker.  What I picked up is the world's most beautiful microwave.  Not only is it new and shiny, but it is new, shiny and RED.  That's right, a sassy, candy-apple red.  Just looking at it brings a smile to my face and it is so attractive that I had a hard time using it...what if the shiny-ness wore off?  But my hunger won out, so now I have a stunning new microwave that heats up food beautifully and looks good too.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go coordinate my outfit to my new microwave.

Burnin' Up....

So, I was evacuated from my apartment in the middle of the night because my dumb-ass neighbor fell asleep with a lit cigarette and set his curtains on fire.  How was your weekend? And did I mention that once I got outside I was faced with some of the cutest firefighters I have ever seen outside of Boston?  Where the hell did these men come from and why are they in Binghamton? Are they stuck in an apprenticeship program too?  So on top of worrying about all my stuff in my apartment (other than the laptop I had stuck under my arm as I fled my place), I also had to worry about the fact that I had bright white zit cream all over my face.  So I was stuck licking my fingers and trying to wipe the worst of it away.  And I'm not really sure why I bothered, because I was also wearing a crooked bandanna, pink slippers and two sweatshirts.  Mmmmmm....sexy.

Luckily, the sprinkler system in my neighbor's apartment turned on before the fire could spread, and the rest of the apartment complexes were saved.  Thank you Lord, because I am not sure if I could survive losing all my handbags without a mental breakdown.  And my neighbor's large-screen TV was ruined by all the water, so now I have a brief reprieve from his obnoxious TV shows blasting though my bedroom walls.  Unfortunately, the whole place smells like smoke and I woke up with a raw throat.  So now I can smell like a smoker without the calming influence of nicotine.  And, since my neighbor is the idiot brother of my landlord, it looks like he is now the outcast in the family and has to find a new place to live, which I think is the LEAST they can do to an asshole who got drunk enough to pass out with a lit cigarette in his hand.  

He had better hope I never track him down: Put my purses in danger and I will happily hand you your balls in a Ziploc bag.  Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to firebomb my smoky apartment with Febreeze.

Bowl 2009...

Instead of watching the Super Bowl, I am settling down to watch the Puppy Bowl 2009 on Animal Planet.  You have your fun and I'll have mine.