I have trying to research ways to get myself up earlier in the morning. I have no problem waking up when I have something to get to: a class, a doctor's appointment, a flight, etc. But when I have nothing to do until work (which starts at noon or 1:00pm for me these days), it is difficult to get out of bed to do things that I don't have to meet other people for: practicing, exercising, cleaning the apartment, etc.

The easiest way I have seen of getting up early is to have kids. This will not happen for a while, so I'm looking for other motivations. Any ideas? I could try going into it cold turkey, but while I'm waking up and still in bed, I will no doubt convince myself to stay there. (Heck, I've been up for an hour and a half now and I could easily convince myself to go back to sleep for another hour.) Don't get me wrong, I enjoy sleeping in - a lot. But I'm starting to feel like a lazy good-for-nothing who is enjoying her slumber too much, as I'm not getting much done.

I officially turn the floor over to you, dear readers. Any tips or hints would be appreciated!

Aaaaaaguh.... I'm finding it so hard to focus. My mind is wandering much the same way it did back in June when we were a few days away from taking the trip out to Colorado to get married. I mean, come on - THIS is what awaits me Friday morning:



And this Friday afternoon:



And then, HELLO. Saturday:



The only thing missing is some facepaint to plaster the American flag all over my face. The ONE freaking thing I forgot at the store.

I'm sure the Olympic Village has emergency red, white, and blue facepaint for sale... right?

I don't think we realized, as kids, how much power we actually had over adults. All it took were a few well-placed words in a vulnerable situation, and we had those adults wishing they knew what was going inside those tiny little heads of ours.

I'm only starting to realize it myself... all it takes during my lessons with the kiddos is an off-the-cuff comment. I'm personally invested in them as it is, and if they are able to involuntarily poke a nerve, it can really stay with me. It's amazing - kids don't mean it when they poke at a nerve. Adults do the same thing and it's emotional manipulation.

When does that point of understanding come about? I think for most kids, it starts young, with people you know well. We recognize that the cute things we do make our parents happy, and they're less likely to tell us "no" when we're happy, and therefore we act cute more often. We're taught in school at a young age that it's rude to point out things that could be perceived as flaws or insecurities. Pointing out another kid's bad skin or poor reading abilities makes them feel powerless. But where do the more subtle comments turn into manipulations? When can we start to read reactions of others and know we've said something wrong? I know there are still adults who have yet to figure this out... or who love the manipulation. But when a kid does it, they're still learning their own social interaction. And what is our responsibility as adults? Do we shake it off and chalk it up to childhood? Do we tell them they've done something that's stung?

My role as a mentor has plenty of gray areas like this. I have so much to learn.

Amazing what a shower, a change of clothes, a little caffeine, and the right lighting can do to swing your day right around.

We've gotten to GPOYW, and for the first time I decided to participate. I've got a cold that won't go away. I'm stuffy and irritable, and I've got four students today that, while they are delightful, require a lot of energy, which we can CLEARLY see that I don't have.

Here we go, world... HAVE AT YOU!!

WARNING: THERE IS A PROJECT RUNWAY SPOILER CONTAINED HEREIN. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.
***
Thursday is good television. When Hubby and I can catch NBC's comedy primetime (minus Leno, of course), we always have fun. Community, Parks and Recreation, The Office, and 30 Rock, while not the strongest combination of shows I've ever seen on NBC's Thursday night lineup, is still a pretty strong block of shows. And afterwards, Lifetime has stuck Project Runway into the perfect post-primetime slot. So it was amusing, when, somewhere during a commercial break of Parks and Rec, Tom looked over at me, and with a mouth full of tuna and rice, commented, "Okay, Jesus is going home tonight."

I just hoped he was right. Not only has Jesus created some dismal designs, but he seems determined that his decisions are the best, and disregards Tim Gunn's comments as if they are not, on most occasions, PURE GOLD. He actually strikes me as quietly snarky. And when last night's challenge was an opportunity to work with REAL women of REAL sizes, he gushed at how tall and skinny his model was, and how easy it was going to be to work with her.

Fool.

It worried me a little when he sent down a wonderfully constructed piece down the runway. It wasn't my favorite, but it seemed well-fit and sparkly, and I thought "Ugh... they might really like it." To my delight, however, Michael Kors saw through his BS, as he seems to have a talent for doing. Jesus got the boot, and Hubby got to show off a smug smile for picking it way ahead of time.

Now it's a little difficult to pick a frontrunner. Amy ended up winning the challenge with a beautiful flowy dress draped in chiffon, but winning a challenge at this point is not too much of a power grab. Emilio has put himself forth as the most critical and bitchy, and if last season is any indication, he'll be the one winning at Bryant Park. I find myself intrigued by Seth Aaron's designs, but they may border on a little too individualized. And I just hope they keep Anthony around for a few more weeks - just for entertainment.

So here's how my dream went down last night:

I had just landed in Australia to visit a good friend of mine who had been living there for a while, and meet her new boyfriend. I got off the plane, feeling jet lagged, and jumped into my own personal transport pod that started down the train tracks. A mellow voice piped in, asking me how I felt. "Just fine. Excited." I responded. The train pod kind of weaved and bounced around a little. "Oh, my," the voice remarked, "Be careful! I understand you're jet lagged, or maybe you're just drunk. I can give you something to make that better, if you'd like."

"Wait... am I controlling this train?"

As if it was painfully obvious, the voice responded, "YES. You steer with your feet!"

Supposedly I was lucky to make it out of there alive. I took the pod all the way to the rental car place, and it was pretty lucky I had the gentle voice telling me how to drive, because it turned out all cars in Australia are driven and steered solely with the feet. I was able to get all the way to the hotel, saw my good friend come out to greet me, and managed to trip over a cell phone charging cord as her boyfriend came out of the room. "Hi," he said in what I suppose could pass as an Australian accent, "I'm Ben."

"Hi, Ben - listen, I want my first impression for you to be a little more graceful. Could you take a few steps back and introduce yourself to me again?"
***
I only had ONE glass of Viognier last night. Where did all this come from??

Okay, I'll say this right here: I totally forgot how many notes Cosi fan Tutte has. I'm usually so good about telling myself to relax, pace myself, and play with limited energy during the operas. I've gotten good enough at it that I don't get tired anymore after playing them.

Except this one! Sixty pages and three and a half hours of fairly continuous playing. Turns out 45-second recitatives don't give us nearly enough rest to stretch out our muscles. I'm mentally AND physically exhausted after a playthrough. It's not often that I reach the last page of anything and think, "I really don't want to play anymore!"



It really is a great show, though. Opera is the only type of theater where there can be six different people talking about six different things simultaneously. My appreciation for the art only grows with every show.

Happy Groundhog Day! I didn't get to sleep last night until 2:00AM.

I have a nostalgic feeling in my muscles now. It's the kind I used to get when I would stay up late studying, practicing, or socializing, then have to get up the next morning for an 8:00AM class. It's interesting how your body counts upon these energy reserves that it must keep storing up. It's a weak and strong feeling at the same time. Like I will totally make it through my busy teaching day with a ton of energy... just as long as I don't exert myself too hard.

Evidently Phil saw his shadow today. That might mean six more weeks of winter on the east coast, but here it's sunny and delightful. This is the kind of weather I moved to Portland for.