So I'm home, as difficult as it is. I'm not in Gainesville. I'll never be living in Gainesville again.

Let that sink in for a second.

Now that it's actually happened, it actually feels kind of good. At least, it definitely feels right. I can be home with my family, concentrating solely on my career and music for the time being. And, of course, saving money like a crazy person. Because apparently to start off my independence, my mom is handing over all of my credit card bills. Um, gross. I did find out, however, that she's started individual savings accounts for me and my brothers. They're considered "emergency accounts" or whatever, but it's really nice to know if I'm not really dead broke.

Ugh, I can't believe how much I think about money! Like some crazed gold digger.

Anyways, I'm home, and my stuff is piled in my room, which my little brother Joey refuses to vacate. Once he does I'm going to completely reorganize and CLEAN the place, since apparently the dust is so bad I'm practically suffocating. Literally. My allergies are trying to kill me. I think another sinus infection has found its way to my nasal cavity.

And that's really too bad, because I was on a roll with the cleaning and practicing and such. And later today the Met is broadcasting Les Contes d'Hoffmann live in HD at movie theatres all around the country...and I really want to go. I'm desperately hoping I have the strength to get out of this chair and put some clothes on to go and sit 4 hours in a movie theatre watching this fabulous opera.

I guess we shall see! Oh, and 9 days til I see Jenny!!!!!!!!!!!!!

...listening to Mahler's first symphony gets me every time.

I can't help but get swept up in a whirlwind of memories about Salzburg every time I listen to it...imagining the fog descending over the lakes of Halstatt...the smell of Brigitta's cooking every day for lunch...galavanting through the city at night...the taste of delicious beer...the beautiful cathedral...music everywhere...the mountains...the fortress...four flights of stairs to get to class every morning...nutella and banana sandwiches for breakfast...the buses that were always on time (to the second)...being so full of food every single night...the train ride to Prague...and Matt, looking over the score of Mahler 1 and deciding that the cuckoo was going to sound "persistant" and convincing me that I had trapped myself in a box of abilities but there is so much more out there for me and that music is something so important that you can never stop learning about it...

And now I sit, packing all of my belongings once again. I feel like I'm actually in Salzburg right now, in my room at Bea's house at number 24 Rocklebrunnestrasse, hating to leave all of the wonderful things I had just experienced. It's the same thing right now, except this semester is everything I have relived of Salzburg plus new memories with wonderful people and a whole new supply of knowledge...

Forgive me. I know that this is no end, but a beginning.

"I live an almost completely sedentary lifestyle these days."

I said that the other day while on a walk from the MUB (music building) to Jimmy Johns. And it's completely true. I just wormed my way out of playing frisbee with Kate and Angela even though I want to spend time with them and I really like playing frisbee. I just know that the concerted effort would leave me feeling so darn tired. Plus I just ate a ton of pizza with a very strong rum (Stroh, the best Austrian rum ever that's 160 proof) and coke. I'm going to have to work my way up to actually playing team sports...I'll start by at least talking the 10 minutes to walk to the MUB instead of driving. It's not even a mile I don't think.

Anyways, because Kate and Angela have left me here to digest, I'm getting some quality time with the new music I just got from the public library. Fantastic Debussy on right now, and Sufjan Stevens is up next. I know I've stated this before, but libraries are the best things in the world. Seriously, if you know how to use a library you can freaking do anything. Actually today I totally nerded out -- aside from the 7 new CDs I got from the Gainesville public library, I also checked out 3 new composer "biographies" from the mubrary: Charles Ives biography (by Swafford, same guy who did the Brahms biography I read a little while ago), a Schubert biography (my fave composer), and "The Tristan Chord," a book about Wagner's music and philosophy. Basically I'm super stoked to read these over the winter break, making me a total and complete music nerd. I know this for sure because some friends saw me carrying these thick, boring-looking biographies and stopped me, asking me what kind of report I was going to write with them. Only when I told them I was reading them for fun did they tell me I really need to be a music history professor.

Luckily they said I would make music history fun for my students since I love it so much. This, however, makes things complicated. I was so set on eventually getting a masters in voice performance...but music history is so very tasty, as well. What do I do? Get 2 masters? Yes? I'm all for it. Looks like I'm going to start saving money....now.

So I'm really loving this music at the moment, but I know this entry has to come to an end at some time. I could help myself by packing, though I did devote all of tomorrow to packing so that I may leave on Wednesday morning...hmm. Yes, I shall go pack. Love you, Livejournal!

Just saw this movie, Bright Star, about John Keats. I really liked it. It made me think and it was beautiful. And now I just want to sit and read poetry.

Ode to Psyche

O Goddess! hear these tuneless numbers, wrung
By sweet enforcement and remembrance dear,
And pardon that thy secrets should be sung
Even into thine own soft-conched ear:
Surely I dreamt to-day, or did I see
The winged Psyche with awaken'd eyes?
I wander'd in a forest thoughtlessly,
And, on the sudden, fainting with surprise,
Saw two fair creatures, couched side by side
In deepest grass, beneath the whisp'ring roof
Of leaves and trembled blossoms, where there ran
A brooklet, scarce espied:

Mid hush'd, cool-rooted flowers, fragrant-eyed,
Blue, silver-white, and budded Tyrian,
They lay calm-breathing, on the bedded grass;
Their arms embraced, and their pinions too;
Their lips touch'd not, but had not bade adieu,
As if disjoined by soft-handed slumber,
And ready still past kisses to outnumber
At tender eye-dawn of aurorean love:
The winged boy I knew;
But who wast thou, O happy, happy dove?
His Psyche true!