February 8, 2013

Read for a service at the cathedral last night which I didn’t entirely understand. It featured accounts of moments of epiphany, and seemed to be designed by women for women, though welcoming on all sides. It was gentle, maybe a bit inept-- at least without the usual Episcopal concern for flawless choreography-- and in the end lovely and cleansing. It was also strange, in a way I can’t put my finger on, unless there really is a difference between the way men and women worship when they have their way. Perhaps a gender differences was not the difference I sensed. The presence of God the Mother takes some getting used to. Anyway, it was well for me to be there.

Came late to The Mikado and therefore missing some rehearsals, learning the parts on my own. The problem is going to be the incessant E’s. I have E’s, but not an unlimited number of them, especially the jolly loud ones wanted here, and I can already foresee myself pulling the pitch down after a while by trying to save myself from the full blast of them. My throat hurts after a practice session. Drilling these songs brings back The Pirates of Penzance I sang with the Asheville Lyric, and even the HMS Pinafore my sister’s class did in junior high, which set deeply and inexplicably in my remembrance.

The grueling interview process for new faculty is, for the time, over. I haven’t looked in my mailbox for the duties I’ve been missing because of it.

DJ with plumbing problems. Nothing upsets me like plumbing problems. I think I associate them with my own body, the ruined legs which may be thought of as an organic plumbing failure.

I thank God I am an excellent sleeper, for sometimes the hours before and after sleep can be terrible. I cannot imagine those gray hours coming uninterrupted.