Step Three: It's Just You and Me

Actually it's been more like just me and me. But soon it will be just you and me, professionally. Well, not "you" specifically, as in second person plural but the "you" does apply to one reader in the second person singular who will be the "you" in the duo of "you and me." And there's also a third (part-time) "you" and a fourth, rather furry and howly "you," who keeps things competitive at tea time. So that's happy.

But for the past couple of months I've been in an extended transition. A monumental limbo as I finish some final projects for my former employer and await the green light from someone else's employer to announce my successor, as I unpack and nest at our new home, and as the aforementioned "you and me" secure arrangements for the new venture. But this week became an unexpected triple dislodging, allowing the River Styx to surge (wait, no. metaphor stops here.) . . . ushering a time of action on all three fronts and ending in a massive Housewarming Party / Wiener Roast** last night. (There's a deadline for ya'.) The apartment is painted, painted, painted, and painted. The wall hangings are up. All shelving needs are met. The liquor cabinets, slim yesterday, are now full of wine from generous houseguests. And, most importantly, the house has been generously full of guests. It's a real home now!

**Important note on throwing a wiener roast in New York City: You can't just "gather some sticks from the woods out back," home goods stores do not carry anything longer than a street meat stick, and most New Yorkers don't understand why this doesn't suffice. (Have you ever smelled burning forearm hairs?! NO. Stop talking with your dumb suggestions.) Just save yourself some time and unbend a bunch of unpainted, unpapered wire hangers from the dry cleaners. Another note: this will feel "rustic" to some of your guests. (Roll eyes.)

But enough yo gabba gabba. It's time for another progress report. For all of the above reasons, it's a-gonna be slim.

Milestones
~Left full-time office job to create new free-lance life. (OK, that's not so small.)
~Had second voice lesson with Mark Baxter Did not cry.
~Assembled music studio in basement. Rediscovered all those knobs on my Sony multitrack recorder.
~Acquired ukulele, swaddled in birthday wrapping by my dear Alaska. Learned five chords.
~Attended my first poetry reading ever. (There are other people! Who think! Like me!)
~Wrote two poems.
~Recorded the hook of a song I really like and want to develop.
~Had walk-over-the-Brooklyn-Bridge-meeting with composer/songwriter about the whole business of orchestration and arranging.

Next Steps
~Find a composition/counterpoint/arranging/orchestration teacher who gets/appreciates songwriting. PER ABOVE, GETTING CLOSER
~Keep vocalizing with my real voice and get rid of all that awful training. SOUNDS WARBLY AND EDGY AND TERRIBLE BUT FEELS HONEST.
~Buy big ukulele chord chart poster for music studio wall.
~Book voice lesson for November?
~Book horn lesson for November?
~Book horn/piano duet with Pam at PSUMC.
~Continue block-buzzing on horn mouthpiece and work range up to C5. (F4) Practice duets and etudes from July lesson. HAVE NOT PLAYED HORN SINCE AUGUST. WILL HAVE TO START ALL OVER AGAIN. GROAN.

Play Dates
~Play horn and guitar duet with Amy. Try out Ft. Lauderdale First Date song with her nylon string guitar.
~Coordinate Southern gospel trio with Leila and Sarah T.
~Join Pam's poetry collective.
~Follow up with flute, violin, cello, trumpet, oboe, guitar-playing friends to see about playing around in the studio.
~Learn "Tonight You Belong to Me" on uke.
~Arrange a small assortment of tunes for horn, piano, ukulele, recorder, and random African percussion instruments. Record and give to friends and family at Christmas like some kind of ill-imagined fruitcake wreck.