I am currently enrolled in an economics course in my college. Now don’t get me wrong, supply and demand are good things, but it’s just not at the top of the list of my favourite classes. Right now I should be doing my homework. But the reading is long and very dry. Recently we talked about something called “opportunity cost.” Basically, opportunity cost of doing something is what else you could be doing instead. So right now I’m writing this blog post. The opportunity cost of connecting with my loving and faithful readers is doing my homework. Ehh, I think it’s worth it.
“Oh, Cordelia [names changed to protect the not-so-innocent], you’re so dramatic!” This, accompanied by a sigh and rolling of the eyes, is a typical response from one or another of my friends regarding my humorizing antics. But it is my not-so-secret opinion that most “normal” people lead incredibly boring lives, so why am I blamed for trying to spice things up a little? You see, I am a Soprano. And we all know that no Soprano can lead a boring life. I mean, for goodness sake, we are the dramatic impetus for almost the whole of opera! We live solely for love, make foolish choices for the man we’re currently in love with (who, of course, we’ve known for maybe 24 hours max), try to make the world a better place, and when none of our plans work out, find some way to die, preferably by suicide.
Now led me educate you, dear reader, a bit about Soprani (I’m sorry, I’m in school and in the learning mode). Soprano is the most common voice type in women, and there are 3 main categories of us: Dramatic, Lyric, and Coloratura. Dramatics are just what they sound like: dramatic. They come in all shapes and sizes, but have a uniting factor in the huge size and weight of their voices (think Wagner, Verdi, and heavy Puccini). Lyric Soprano is a pretty run-of-the-mill designation, being the typical woman’s voice. Composers are generally more kind to these ladies than their Dramatic and Coloratura counterparts, and the foremost factor that gets a Lyric a job is her ability to carry a beautiful legato line. Coloraturas, on the other hand, are the lucky ones of us. They are the ones who get to perform the true fireworks, executing runs, trills, and all other sorts of things that make the rest of us drop our jaws in pure awe. And they get the high notes (I’m not jealous, no, not at all).
In short, I am a Lyric Soprano who wants to be a Coloratura, but tends more toward the Dramatic. My friends simply call me a Dramatic Lyric.
When I was 3 I met the girl who would become my best friend. We did everything together from dress-up, to play-dough and crafts, to culinary experiments, to watching a good movie and dreaming of our own respective Prince Charmings (we were going to marry handsome twin brothers who existed only in our imaginations). Over the years we grew closer and closer together. Our names were always linked and we were always seen together.
But then when high school came looming around the corner things changed. No longer were we able to be together for everything. We acquired new friends and spent less time together. And that made me sad. The separation became more acute when I went to college while she still had to finish high school.
College was a new and wonderful experience for me, as for many young people around the world. I made many new friends, some merely acquaintances, and some becoming new rocks and mainstays for me to build my life around. And now my best friend is here at college with me. We are going to have an awesome time.
To all my friends out there, new and old, I love you!!
“Awwwwwwwwwwwww! Your pink hippo is soooooooooo cute!!! “It’s so fluffy I’m gonna die!!” What’s its name?”
“It’s a girl.” My poor roommate had been stung by a bee and had been given said hippo as a get well present.
“I know it’s a girl. That’s pretty obvious – I mean, it’s pink! But what’s her name?”
“It’s a girl.” This time with a little more force.
Giselle (names changed to protect the not-so-innocent) was by now thoroughly stumped. “You mean, like, first name ‘It’s’, second name ‘A,’ and last name ‘Girl?’
“It’s a girl.”
My roommates and I laugh to this day over this conversation. Giselle and I are still not quite sure what led our dear roommate to the name of “It’s A Girl.” Maybe the fact that the name is inscribed on the animal?
As a child my parents read me a story about a young bird who hatches when his mother is away. A confident young chick, he immediately sets out on his own to find her. He wanders here and there, hither and yon, asking every creature he meets, “Are you my mother?” The cow, kitten, dog and chicken all deny being his mother, the car, boat, and plane are not, and the tractor just scares him with its loud “Snort!” But happily the shovel drops him back in his own nest just in time to find his mother.
I too have a mother, believe it or not. Yes, world, even Sopranos have mothers. And my Mom is pretty awesome. I’d like to dedicate today’s post to her. Thanks, Mom, for always being there for me, for making awesome food, for doing laundry and housework. Thanks for taking care of me when I was sick and always loving me and encouraging me in my dreams. I love you.
Computers seem to be an issue over which there are many disagreements and . . . heated discussions. One one side are the fruits – well Apple is a fruit, is it not? Lightweight, virus-protected, and running exceptionally well, Apple has gained a large following among technologically minded consumers. Unfortunately, the products’ price tags mirror their strengths, making them unavailable to many real-life people. Cheapos like me settle for the PC, or “Personal Computer.” Running on Windows OS, PCs are prone to glitches and easily exposed to viruses. But on the up-side, PCs are more affordable than Macs, and Windows OS, as the “standard” OS is more easily accessible to most people.
So that’s why I use a PC. Maybe when I get rich I’ll use a Mac. And then again, maybe not.
So Sam says when he returns home to his wife and children at the end of Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings. While I may not be at home with my family right now, college has become a different kind of home to me. I don’t eat home-cooked meals here, watch movies with my mom, or giggle with my sisters, I do enjoy being here with my friends and having once again something to do. I’ve heard before that friends are the family that you choose for yourself. We may not have a choice in who our family members are, but we can choose our friends. I love my family very much but I love my friends too. And sometimes it becomes hard to choose between them when schedule conflicts arise. But you know, I couldn’t really do without either families I have because they are both a part of me.
Well, the dreaded trip is here. My brother and I are driving from the beautiful Southwest to the muggy South. Days of driving are long, and hotels smell weird.
Well, I have to start packing. My room is a mess, with clothes everywhere, and several suitcases littering the floor. Yes, it’s that time of year again: back to school. It’s strange how every year summer seems to fly by. They (whoever ‘they’ are) tell us that it’s 4 months long, but I think thy sneak in and steal about half of it away. My little sisters have already started classes at their school, so the house is quiet in the mornings (more or less). My brother and I go to college far, far away from home (We’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto), and within the next few days we will have driven over 2,000 miles. My mom’s more than a bit worried.
Why is it that the moment I need to start packing I have in incredible urge to do something else? Happens every time, it seems. I should be packing right now. But my dear readers are so important that I am willing to give up the time that I could be spending packing to write this blog post. 😉 I love you all! Have a great day.
I was so proud of myself. I was going to do this one all by myself, without any help from you-know-who. I followed the recipe step by step, blending sugar and cream cheese, then adding the eggs one by one, mixing thoroughly. The next step was to add cream, vanilla, and butter, and blend. Next step: bake for 65 minutes . . . Wait!! Where’s the chocolate!! This is a chocolate cheesecake. The recipe calls for 12 ounces of chocolate, and I want to taste every bit of that. What do you do when the RECIPE messes up?? Well, I had to call in the expert for help. My mom is an amazing cook. Her cinnamon rolls are seriously awesome. She should be world-renowned for them. Well, she came and fixed my cheesecake, and I poured it into the crust I had made the day before, and stuck it into the oven. It baked and baked and baked, and started to smell seriously good, and baked, and then the timer went off!! But it wasn’t done. I baked it some more, and baked it and baked it some more, but it was still really jiggly. But finally my mom came home, we baked it a little more, and then left it to cool. And then we ate it. And boy was it yummy!!!