le sigh

I'm not sure which bothers me more: 

the fact that I live in a house full of people who have no interest in being friends OR
the fact that I've no idea how to deal with it OR
the fact that I let it bother me so much.

I'm afraid living in the city is going to turn me into a grinch.

how shakespeare was a prophet

I can always find my way back to myself by spending time with one of two things (both for best results):  Jesus and the piano.  I know that sounds goofy, but it's true.  Add a little writing in there and perhaps some coffee and I begin to feel like a whole person again.  And if I get to watch a Cards game with a couple of girlfriends, it's like icing on the cake :)

I've recently realized this yet again.

No wonder I felt so lost last spring.  I was dating Jonathan and had abandoned both of these important things wholeheartedly in an attempt to keep up with him.  Granted, not the piano completely.  I had to make a living.  But I never worked on my own stuff.  And I was headed down a path that would eventually lead to abandoning my career if we'd have stayed together.

Katie...

Amazing what a lost puppy you can be when you try to make someone else's story your own.

"... in the movies we have leading ladies and we have the best friend.  You, I can tell, are a leading lady, but for some reason you're behaving like the best friend." 

And of course this has been brought to my attention yet again by a lack of time given to these two items of importance recently.  Life is such a hard balance sometimes.

Awareness is half the battle though.

A dear friend of mine informed me the other day that the word "passion" comes, not from a word meaning "fire" as so many of us like to think, but from the Greek word "paskho," which means "to suffer."

This was revolutionary for me.  Turns out passion may be a gift, but it's also a responsibility.  How did I know this for so long and yet struggle to understand it within myself?

"The battle is not with the instrument, it is with ourselves."  - Vincent Chicowicz

Chicowicz wasn't lying.  Not one single bit.

And of course I get to the point where I haven't been in the Word for... well, too long for my own good.  My counselor tells me I perpetually run on fumes.  Awesome, right?

"Very truly I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you.  Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise them up at the last day... whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me, and I in them."

Tonight I went back to my Bible study... the one that I'd abandoned for the past two weeks in favor of making it through the Christmas season without major injury.  I would have been better to keep at it.  Our small group at Central is going through the book of John this year and I've been behind... 

But I think about the chapters we've studied already... about the wedding at Cana and how Jesus turned a bunch of Jewish purification water into wine.  And about the woman at the well whose life had put her in a position with no choice but to be desperate and how Jesus knew her, mistakes and all, and revealed himself as God to her anyway.  And about how he fed 5,000 people bread and fish from a sack lunch.  And then how he turns around and offers himself to us as those things in the following verses and chapters.  And I think about Don Miller and how he compares Romeo and Juliet to what it's like to find life in Christ... about how Romeo takes Juliet up on her offer to doff his name and take all of her instead... about how both die so that they might have life together.

Suffer indeed.

Maybe this is how I'm supposed to be a leading lady.

... how is it that I keep forgetting this?  Maybe I get in the way of myself?  Maybe I keep expecting life out of other things?  Maybe that it's just too simple?

O true apothecary!  Thy drugs are quick.

o holy night

Hahahaha!  My brother is amazing!

le petit prince

"To tame... is to create ties... if you tame me, we'll need each other..."

"... the only things you learn are the things you tame," said the fox.

"Here is my secret. It's quite simple: One sees clearly only with the heart. Anything essential is invisible to the eyes... It's the time you spent on your rose that makes your rose so important... You become responsible forever for what you've tamed. You're responsible for your rose."

- from the conversation with the fox, from Le Petit Prince

Christmastime in the Lou

God bless the US Postal Service. Dr. B's present is in the mail and scheduled to get there Friday. And it only cost $5.10 to send it priority mail. No packaging fee, no 2nd day air, no Saturday delivery option. And they got me through the line in a reasonable amount of time for 4:30 pm the Wednesday before Christmas. 

I will grant that I clearly did not think this one through very carefully when I left my house today.  Sometimes you've just gotta take one for the team and go forward without thinking too much, lest you get lost in the process of how and not make any headway in the actual task.  It took me all afternoon to find his present (and the card), not get completely distracted along the way, figure out how I wanted to mail it and how much it was going to cost, and then get everything I needed and get to the post office before 5 pm.  And let me just say that the guy at the Brentwood FedEx must really think he is something else.  He had a whole speech prepared about all of my shipping and packaging options.  The man was a walking paragraph of small-print disclaimers and huge words in a quiet monotone.  How a person can have so much to say about getting an object from one place to another is beyond me.  I smiled politely, muttered "Holy cow" (and perhaps a little something else) on my way out, and went to Target across the street to buy my own packaging, which I then took to the Post Office down the road where the people were totally down to earth and got me situated in no time.  For a third of the cost.  Granted, I did have to wrap his present in the car (in the parking lot of the Brentwood Post Office where people kept walking by giving me the crazy look -- did I mention the Asian guy who pulled up next to me, saw me turning my car into a wrapping center, smirked, and opened his trunk to pull out a perfectly wrapped present ready to go?  It's always interesting watching other people judge you... while you're sitting right there) but you know what, I'll take it.  You do what you have to do.

It was a victory.  Eat your hearts out FedEx/UPS.

But then I came home tonight to find that my roommates had hung the elf from the ceiling fan...

I admit that this totally struck the dark side of me as hilarious, albeit a little morbid.  

I had planned on moving him tonight anyway because he'd been completely stationery since the last prank (a hot air balloon with real balloons that had since lost all their helium, having been left up for 2 weeks while I finished my semester at Lutheran and got my kids through their studio recital).  But STILL... I mean, c'mon.  Hang an elf??  Really?

So I promptly took the poor thing down and put him in a nice relaxing bath of mini marshmallows.  The toothbrush is supposed to be his scrub brush, since apparently there's very little market for elf-sized scrub brushes.

It's ridiculous, I know, but it's one of the few ways that I'm connecting with my roommates right now, who are all extremely absorbed in their own lives.  Admittedly I can be too at times, but who wants to live with people who only talk to you if you speak first?

I mean... at least they responded, right?

shit my dad says

Sometimes my dad really cracks me up.  He can be so inappropriate, but it is downright hilarious listening to him when he gets going.  Not to mention that I absolutely love it when he gets into one of these moods. 

Today's topic:  his difficulty in finding normal Christmas lights and normal Christmas ornaments.  According to him, it seems that it's ridiculously hard to find white lights on a green string anymore and ornaments in traditional colors rather than pastel blue, pink, or purple.  He had to go to 5 or 6 different stores to get what he wanted.  "Why would you ever put a white string of lights on a green tree??  And I don't want blue, pink, and purple ornaments.  I want red, green, and gold!  You know, the Chinese don't know that Americans don't want all off this off-the-wall shit.  Because in China, they don't have Christmas.  They have like, the Year of the Dog or whatever..."

Shit my dad says.  My friend Megan and I had a good laugh over that one.  Apparently there's also a book with the same title. 

brains

Fascinating article published by Vanderbilt University that was posted on facebook by my mentor here in St. Louis, as well as an old friend from the music school.

Click HERE to read it.

Confirms what we always knew to be true:  musicians' brains really are different! :)

(smacks forehead, jaw drops)

Just realized I've left the coffee pot on for the last 48 hours or so.

Thank God there are geniuses out there who think to idiot-proof their products for people like me.  Amazing that the poor thing didn't blow up.

I've never been more convinced that my love for coffee will one day be the death of me.

I'm. ridiculous.

recital

Although I don't entirely believe it to be true, if students are a true reflection of their teachers, then I am an amazing teacher.

Tonight is one of those nights where I could stay up forever and bask in the glory of a job well done... like those nights in college after finals where you stay up watching movies you know and love because you don't want the good to end.  That's how I feel.

My studio recital went AMAZINGLY well.  Several of my kids totally came through at the last minute, despite being really iffy on their pieces only days before.  What a wonderful thing to watch child after child surpass my expectations with flying colors.  They totally nailed it -- all of them -- and it was incredible.

I only hope the Vivaldi goes as well.  One down, one to go.  I would write more but I need to sleep.  This week is going to be crazy!

the night I had half a cup of coffee at 3 pm...

If a cute girl offers to make hot chocolate in an attempt to cure both your insomnia and hers, why on earth would you ever say no?

Regardless of her intentions, you don't refuse a kind and innocent offer from a lady.

It's enough to make me think chivalry is dead.  At least in the house I now live in.  My new roommates mystify me like none other.  And I have a hard time not taking things personally.

I thought that this is why people live together... so that when you're crawling the walls at 1 am, there's someone to live through it with... that it's at least semi-fun rather than a mess of loneliness and frustration.  Right??  I don't get it.

... and I can assure you, the intention was merely platonic.  I would have offered the same to my brother if we were both clearly and obviously wide awake at the same time.

People are idiots.

wrestling

It's December.  Which means that I have no life right now.  And what little life I do have is spent trying to calculate my next Elf on the Shelf move in an attempt to spark some sort of relationship-building endeavor amongst my new roommates.

I've been eating/breathing/sleeping/singing the Vivaldi Gloria in my head for the past 2-3 weeks now and will continue to do so for another as we head into the final week before Lutheran's Christmas concert.  I'm falling in love with this work... desperately so.  It's a gorgeous piece of music.  I only hope I can do it justice.  But the kids are less than enthralled with it.  It's a hard piece.  And some weird spirit of mediocrity seems to have settled over everyone between the ages of 14 and 18 in my life right now:  my brother, several of my students, and many of the kids in the choir I'm playing for.  They just do not want to be bothered with the hard work of wrestling with something so demanding and coming out victorious.  It's hard to watch.  I so badly want to save the day...  my inner self wants to push, push, push, inspire, inspire, inspire.  But in reality I have no control.  And I exhaust myself trying to get them where I want them to be.  As their teacher and accompanist (and in the case of my brother, as his sister), I can only take them so far.  You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink.  That is what's hard for me to wrestle with.

And I often wonder if God feels that way about us, doing everything he can to get our attention -- to help us realize that he's the one we ultimately need, that nothing else will satisfy... that we shoot ourselves in the foot every single time we attempt to do things our way.

I've been thinking about a lot of things lately.  This whole past year and a half has been one big fat growing pain in the you-know-what.  The entire year has been like (seriously)...  same song, fifteenth verse.  And what I've been painfully struggling with all this time in each of the different situations and scenarios I've found myself in are the answers to two huge questions:  a. who loves me truly? and b. of those that love me truly, who do I have the freedom to love back with the same truth?  And just when I think I get it figured out, something changes.  And chances are, it's something huge.  Like declining my candidacy at Wash U.  Or starting a business in a new city.  Or being in a relationship.  Or being dumped unceremoniously out of that relationship.  Or my parents getting divorced.  Or Halley getting married.  Or having to move... for the fourth time.

But you know, even after I figure out the answers to these questions, those answers only take me so far on the emotional journey.  Those people -- the ones who love me truly that I can love back with the same truth -- they can only go with me so far.  There comes a point where it's just me and Jesus.  And, like my students and my brother and the kids at Lutheran High, sometimes I just do not have what it takes to face the hard work of wrestling.

All I can say is... thank God he did it for me.

Maybe more than anything, that's what Emmanuel means for me this Christmas.  God with us... he did my wrestling for me.

crazies

Something's gotta give.  I need someone to give me some attention.  I can only handle so much of roommates thinking I'm crazy and then ignoring me, which makes me think I'm even crazier...

You know, people love crazies.  They think they're great... until they have to live with them.  But I am here to tell you that it's the crazies who win Nobel prizes and become professors and solve world problems and make a difference in the lives of children.

So what if I like to put the elf in the fridge and sing Vivaldi at 8:30 in the morning and hang gel clings all over the windows and read my music teacher magazines in the tub??

Being ignored is worse than living alone.   

peacocks

(me, to my 11-yr-old student): "I don't care if a peacock explodes in your front yard or a major asteroid makes its way toward the face of the earth, you have to practice your recital pieces every day until the recital..."

(student, timidly): "... there's a kid in my class whose last name is Peacock.  But no one makes fun of him because his dad makes a lot of money.  His dad is the president of Anheuser-Busch."

(me, laughing): "Oh man, allow me to re-phrase... I don't care if a DINOSAUR explodes in your front yard... you have to practice!"

This is what I get for teaching students in Clayton lol.

Also:  I am now living with two guys who never pay attention to me.  It's probably a good thing, but nonetheless, it blows.  I'm never getting married unless my would-be husband is desperately in love with me.

the move

Welp, I'm moved.  No longer in Webster.  Instead in West County.

I'm living with two guys and a girl.  It'll be an adventure, to be sure, so stay tuned.

The move went... well, it went.  That's the important thing.  Everything got transferred and the old apartment is now clean thanks to an afternoon of Katie-Halley-Simon quality time with some cleaning supplies and a little elbow grease.

But a big thanks goes out to both of my parents, Allie and her boyfriend Will and his friends (who helped move my piano), my friends John and Megan who came through for me at the last minute after a photo shoot that morning, and Halley's dad who randomly stopped by on moving day and lent a hand (literally!) to get some of the big stuff out.  Not to mention my dad who found out about 3 hrs before the move that he was picking up a trailer for me.  And then of course there's my mom, who came over and helped clean the place up a little since I'm living with three very distracted young professionals.  They are all so so nice, albeit... distracted :)

And we beat kU.  Thank God.  Don't know if we were ever gonna live that one down if they'd won. 

So all in all, I'd say the weekend was a victory.

Now, to finish the Vivaldi Gloria...

the crazy day

The last 24 hours have been absolutely CRAZY!  Yesterday afternoon, my sweet and dear friend Christine had her first baby (a boy -- Nicholas Adrian) AND then this morning, my best friend from high school Karley called to tell me she had gotten engaged last night.

It's like the World Series all over again.  I just absolutely can't stop smiling.  My world is exploding with happiness for girls in my life who are like sisters to me.

The only thing that would make it better is if Pujols re-signed with us for next year...

C'mon, Albert!  Make my day unforgettable!!! :)

even at 25...

I just do not sit still. My mind is constantly working and thinking through things, whether my body is supposed to be stationary or not.  If the doctor orders me to take a bath twice a day, I will sit in the tub and get work done.  My only regret is that I can't take my laptop in there with me. 

Thoughts for 8:34 am: getting my NCTM certification, finding/composing(?) a piece for my eldest student to teach her how to accompany, Federation selections for my students, and the Christmas list my mom keeps begging me for.

... this is all after I woke up thinking about how I'm going to get through the move this week and finish the Vivaldi Gloria by Dec 1.

I'm. ridiculous.  Even if no one else cares, I find this fact about myself astonishing.  I just go, even when I'm not consciously pushing myself.

dear exboyfriend

I was looking over my stats this morning for this blog (since Blogger is awesome like that and allows you to see what kinds of people are creeping in on you) and found out that one of the key search words for readers to find this blog happens to be "katie's blog dear exboyfriend."

Wow.

That's all I got.  It's just weird.  Especially considering that this blog is one of the primary ways I keep in touch with my grandparents, of all people.

All I can say is, if you read this blog thinking you're going to find out all sorts of juicy tidbits about my personal and social life, you're sadly mistaken.  It rarely happens, as my faithful readers can attest to and when it does I try to be as vague and gracious as possible.  This is just an authentic record of that messy transition from gangly adolescent girl to what I hope is a graceful, mature, Christ-honoring adult.  Look elsewhere for your tabloid-like gossip cravings...

... not to mention that at this point in my life, I have several ex-boyfriends.  If one of them does happen to get mentioned through the use of pronouns and non-descriptive titles, who's to say which one I'm referring to?

Thank you to those of you who read this with the genuine intention of keeping in touch.  You're the ones I write for, in addition to my own need to process life in this mad, mad, mad, mad world.

People are ridiculous.  I refer to my previous post for further discussion of that final statement.

muzzles

Sometimes, people just say things... and there is no filter.  And what comes out ends up being really rude, whether they realize it or not.  I'd like to think that most of the time they don't actually mean it.  But it just reminds me that without the Holy Spirit, there is no filter whatsoever.  And I mean even Christians who say ridiculous things and it makes you wonder who died and crowned them the residing expert of this and that or such and such.  What we say when we don't think is what's actually going on in our hearts.  We have to ask the Holy Spirit daily, even hourly to be Lord over the things that come out of our pie-holes.  And I am just as guilty as the woman who hurt me this morning.

This has happened to me about three times in the past two weeks... where I've been in conversation with someone, usually another woman, and some jab or judgment pours out upon me from their mouths.  I think it's God's grace to me that I'm usually stunned and puzzled in the moment and only angry afterwards... it's his way of putting a big fat muzzle over my otherwise potentially hedge-clipping trap.  I could really ruin my reputation if I wanted to, let me just tell you.  Unfortunately my family knows this all too well... and some of my girlfriends...

And every time this has happened, it makes me hope these women realize what they say afterwards.  But chances are they didn't and they won't.  And of course I forgive them but it never hurts to know that someone realized their mistake and decided that what they had said after all was actually foolish and hurtful.  But we won't get that til... well, Glory probably.  Occasionally you get the come-back apology.  But not often.

Here's the thing, though... it's a good reminder for Katie.  People can be so mean/rude/ridiculous... [insert whatever adjective you feel appropriate].  It's just not worth it to say those kinds of things, nor fret over them if they've been said to you.  Part of growing up, I suppose, is learning to deal with that kind of crap... 

But you know, if I have to take one harsh criticism a week for the rest of my life to remind me to only ever speak the words of Christ to those around me, let it be so.  All the instability in my life right now is teaching me (granted, painfully and imperfectly) one thing:  I have a security in Christ far greater than anything else on this earth.  You just can't touch this.

peter pan

There are two men in the world who really, really get me (as in, fundamentally understand what makes Katie tick) that are not related, married, engaged, or think I've completely lost my marbles.  I don't try to please either of them, which is huge.  I always feel like I can completely be myself when I'm with either one.  One of them is about 65 years old and like a father figure to me.  The other lives in Manhattan and will more than likely never be anything more to me than a very dear friend.

I have but one question to this... what the crap??  Which begs another question:  how is it that I am a beautiful, talented, bright, young lady and there isn't anyone else out there with a Y chromosome who understands (or even wants to understand)?  Again I say...  what the crap?

I blame the Peter Pan phenomenon.

Katie, nooooo...!

I am normally one of those people who waits until at least Thanksgiving Day to start listening to Christmas music.  We always had this tradition of listening to old Christmas music (we're talking Julie Andrews, Burl Ives, and older) on the way up to Grandma's on Thanksgiving Day.  I'm a firm believer in celebrating one holiday at a time.  On the other hand, while most people start listening to Christmas music the day after Halloween and then don't want to see it for another 340 days come Dec 26th, I am totally one of those people who loves to continue listening through Epiphany, since in the church calendar, we're still technically celebrating the season of Christmastide.

But this morning I broke down and started listening to Nutcracker.  Picking out Christmas music for my students put me over the edge...

Dear Thanksgiving... I am so, so sorry!

(me, talking to my sister, laughing): "All this moving makes me realize that my emotional baggage and a 300-lb instrument is just the load I come with..." 

(Allie): "It's ok. My friend Heather comes with a bunch of emotional baggage and rottweiler. I definitely think yours is better."

HA!  She has such a way of putting things... :)

10:38

Random thoughts floating through my head at 9:58 pm on a rainy Tuesday evening:

- I am le tired.  So tired.  Today was a long day and I didn't stop much or even eat much til about 7 pm.
- I have about a bazillion tabs open in my browser right now... too many to keep track of.  But I don't want to close any of them because there's a reason each one of them is open, if I can only remember what each one is.
- Likewise my apartment is a mess right now.  Tomorrow I hope to clean it, but my free days get eaten up with all the catch-up I have to do on my days off.  It's ridiculous.  Makes me shudder to think of what Feb-May will be like if it's like this now...
- I hope my husband someday likes sports.  And not too much, but just enough to make it fun, like I do.  Because Mizzou's joining the SEC and the Cards are now in the midst of finding a new manager.  And it would really suck to be married to someone who just didn't care... or didn't want to care... or didn't even understand what it's like to care about something important to you.  And not that I'm a crazy fanatic.  I have my life under control when it comes to sports.  But I hope he's the same way.  It needs to be equal.
- It's very odd to me that I hope he likes sports and yet I don't expect him to understand my career at all.  I think it's something I've come to terms with:  most men will not understand my career and therefore, I don't expect to connect with them in that way, ever.
- ... this is good.  Because it means that maybe, just maybe I've finally become like my friend Stuart, who is my good friend from when we were in the music school at Mizzou together my last year of undergrad.  Stuart is by no means defined by his music.  He and Courtney's relationship [um... yes, I set them up.  Because I'm awesome at setting people up...] is based completely on everything BUT his career.  This is important.  I think a lot of musicians expect to find other musicians to be in relationship with.  And sometimes this works, but a lot of times it doesn't.  I think for a long time I wanted to understand how this would/should work in my life and thought I understood it but actually didn't until recently.  Most men will never understand my career.  They'll ask all sorts of questions about it and be totally intrigued, but fundamentally, my career will be to them what sports are to most women:  they just won't see the point.

Other thoughts...
- I saw my grandparents this weekend.  I need to see them more often.  It was such a sweet visit.  They are an invaluable resource and I sometimes wish I wasn't an adult because I'm no longer able to take weeks out of my life at a time to go and be with them.  It sucks.  Thanks for having me this past weekend, Grandma.  I love you and Grandpa both so much.  The pears are delicious, by the way.  I have this amazing toscano cheese (think mozzarella meets parmesan) that's sprinkled with cinnamon which pairs with them divinely.  I fully expect to take a few more with me when we come up for Thanksgiving, please and thank you, of course :)
- I think I've found a place to live.  It better happen soon, is all I can say.  My landlord posted the "Apartment for Rent" sign on my door today.  Awesome.  Nothing like a swift kick in the tush.  But there's a place out in West County that I will probably move into the weekend after Thanksgiving, barring all catastrophe between now and then.  Two guys and a girl live there now and well... it'll be interesting.  I only lived with a guy who wasn't my dad or my brother once in college -- my friend Christine's husband, who at the time, was still her boyfriend, who lived by himself and got in a huge car wreck and ended up staying with us girls so Christine could take care of him.  I doubt this will be anything like that.  But these guys will just be roommates.  I fully envision brother-sister-like relationships developing.... maybe, I hope??  My mom keeps asking me if this is just something my generation does now.  I guess??  But these people seem normal and quite honestly, I'd rather live with a couple of guys than a couple of girls.  I was so over the high drama of living with girls my last year of college.  There were FIVE of us living on our side of the duplex.  It was too much.  Stuart was one of the few people who kept me sane, especially that last semester.  It's good to have a friend who takes you out to lunch and asks you about your life goals and then tells you that there's no way you're gonna BS your way through a conversation about life goals and instead gives you a week-long assignment to go home and think about your life goals every night before you fall asleep instead of thinking about everything you have to do the next day (yes, I was one of those people while in school... it was a little ridiculous.  I was in fact a machine... it's one of the reasons I emphasize this to my students so much now -- that they are not machines, but rather human children and I wouldn't want them any other way aside from their lovely, imperfect selves).  Anyway, Stuart was my life coach for that season of time and I miss him a lot.  But he's happily settled now in Mobile with Courtney.  They'll be married this coming March.  Because that's how awesome of a matchmaker I am... the girl who's not interested in being set up herself... she's the one who sets everyone else up :)
- I miss Dr. Budds.  I need to go see him and Dr. Mabary again soon as well... or at least call.

Also...
- On my way up to my grandparents, I realized I have two major flaws:  my indecisiveness, and some very big and very real commitment issues.
- ... which is probably the reason I set everyone else up.
- It is now 10:38.  And because I am le tired, I am now going to make myself a cup of tea or hot chocolate and go to bed, thinking about all the stuff I have to get done tomorrow...

machines

Read an interesting article from NPR the other day about how technology is now eliminating higher-paying jobs in the work force like bank tellers, junior positions at law and accounting firms, and sometimes whole floors of insurance workers because the software being used by companies now can compute or do research faster and more accurately than any number of human beings.

And to be honest, it just made me sad.  It reminds me of the old movies that were made in times where they could only dream of making machines that would take over the world.  And now it's actually happening, though not in the way we expected.

And it made me realize that what I do and what I'm teaching my kids is invaluable.

Especially considering that the frequency of us sitting at home on our laptops or iPhones all day has dramatically risen in the past year or two as more and more people quit less meaningful jobs or lose them to the recession.  Myself included.  I declined a grad school candidacy because it was just too expensive.  And I've spent a lot of time being productive (whether real or imagined) this last year on my laptop.

But it gives me hope when I think about my students.  When it comes to piano, they're learning how to work hard at something and feel good about their own progress, how to interact with and enjoy others (like their teacher or duet partners), and how to delight in an activity that doesn't involve a microchip at all -- all of which are quickly becoming lost arts, but ones that will be highly valuable to them as they continue to grow and develop into real and authentic adults.  It makes me really grateful for their parents, who support that (and me!) and push their kids to do the best that they can while they still have the opportunity.

I tell my kids all the time that they are human children and not machines.  Nobody expects them to do things perfectly.  There's a reason I say that a lot.  They need to hear that while they're still young and their minds are being shaped so they can fight that lie with truth when they get older and somebody does try to make them into a machine.

Just made me think about that on this gray November morning.  That's all.

on the inside of love

The other night a good friend of mine sent me a gift via iTunes (didn't know you could do such a thing but she totally did)... it was the new Relient K cover of Nada Surf's "Inside of Love."  I'd never heard it before (I know, I know... scold me later) and she wanted me to have it, mainly because we work together and the kids we work with have started praying that she and I both find good men.  Call it cheesy, or lame, or whatever you want:  until a big group of high school kids starts praying out loud every day for you to find the right person, don't judge.  It is absolutely one of the sweetest things ever.  Anyway, she sent this song to me, mostly because I think it reminded her of this recurring phenomenon and where she's been with the whole issue recently.

If you wanna get a grasp on the song lyrics, you can find a copy of them HERE until somebody decides that the website needs to go away.  Sorry if you read this post four years from now and the site no longer exists and you get the weird 404 error message.  I'm sure Google can help you find them again somewhere else. 

Anyway, the following was my email response to her, which pretty much sums up where I'm at right now too:

"Thanks for sharing your heart.  I get it.  I totally get it.  I'm still ok in the men dept, mostly because I'm still dealing with the tragedy of my parents right now.  But I decided to start praying for the husband I'm not yet ready for because I don't want 20 years to fly by and then wonder why I never married.  I'm reminded of the verse in Hebrews that says we do not have because we do not ask (or that when we ask, we ask to spend it on our passions).  So I figure a little bit of honest asking for something I know I need but am not yet ready for... well, I think / hope it's with a heart that's in the right place ya know?

I think it's sweet the way the kids pray for us.  Every single one of them that's prayed out loud has been so authentic about it -- not overly serious, but not joking about it either.  It's just right.  I love that.

I wish I could say that I see it coming for both of us -- good men, I mean, but I really have no idea.  But you know, in the meantime, maybe the real blessings are found in the deeper relationships formed between you and I and the kids in just being honest about our needs.  The kind of thing where you're living life together and walking the walk in community, for better or worse.  And you know, prayer can be such a powerful tool for working through your emotions about certain issues.  I was thinking about that earlier tonight, as in, who am I supposed to go to now about __________ issue(s) now that Mom and Dad are split... Jesus, Katie, that's who.  You take them to Jesus.  And not in a Sunday School / that's what I'm supposed to do kind of way but more in a there is no one else who can heal you kind of way.  I almost lost it emotionally on the way home tonight after my Dad's birthday celebration with my siblings just thinking about everything...

... all that to say, it's gonna be ok.  I know it may not feel like it right now... take it from someone who feels like they have nothing left:  you are on the inside of love.  I am too.  We just don't realize it <3"

world series love

This was taken last Friday night after we won Game 7 of the World Series.  We were downtown and the city absolutely went NUTS:  fireworks, people running through the streets, confetti all over Busch stadium, cars that couldn't move but were laying on the horns.  It was easily one of the coolest things I've ever experienced.

From left to right:  Me, my friend Megan, her husband John, and John's brother, David.  Photo taken by John's other brother, Tom.  Courtesy of Tom Wehrle Photography, used with permission.

I also found this photo on MLB.com's blog, taken the same night.  This is priceless...

The caption read, "They partied all night at Busch stadium... now Cardinals fans can hibernate through the winter."  Hahaha.  Awesome.

To access the actual site, click here:  MLB.com

under construction

This is a temporary post to let you know that a new post is currently under construction in my mind and will soon be put up for your viewing pleasure.

(... is it weird that I post to let you know I'm going to post?  Probably yes.  Oh well.)

The upcoming post will probably be about one or more of the following subjects:

1. How St. Louis is the greatest city on earth because we won the World Series last night.
2. How the Cardinals are the greatest team on earth because we won the World Series last night.
3. How I'll be telling my landlord tomorrow that I'm moving out in 30 days and I don't know where I'm going.
4. How I have 30 days to find a new place to live.
5. Grad School (seriously need to find a new topic to replace that one...)
6. How I've started praying for a husband that I'm not ready for because I don't want 30 to sneak up on me and still not be married.  I mean, let's be honest:  if I'm praying for a good living situation to fall from the sky, I might as well ask for a husband while I'm at it.
7. How I'm realizing more and more that I don't want to leave St. Louis for a while.  I'm starting to get attached.  I either need to break now or stay.  And you know how much I love change...
8. About how there is a serious need in the world for a sarcasm font.

Feel free to comment with what you'd like to hear about most.  Your actual sway of influence is debatable.  But your democratic participation is always appreciated :)

still in the game!

Last night I was sick and went to bed early thinking "Game over... man!"  Today I woke up to find that not only did we win, but we were down two points in the bottom of the 10th and pulled ahead to win by one in the 11th inning.

Our team really is the best.  We're awesome.  And we're gonna take the series.  Just wanted to put a little Cardinal baseball love out there for your Friday morning.

BIRDS!!

The longer I'm out of school, the closer and closer I feel like I get to the person I was before I was overtaken with ambition.  I guess that's pretty significant.

needs

Lots of people have wish lists.  I've been thinking a lot about my wish list lately, since I've been thinking a lot about what I actually want in life.  But the more I think about my wish list, the more I think about my what-I-actually-need-list.  And it's becoming substantial.  I could sit here and talk about how I need a new pair of jeans but you and I both know that when it comes down to it, I could probably go another 4-6 months, maybe even a year without them.  I've become so aware of needs lately.  It comes with the territory of being a starving artist.  And hopefully the 10 of you who read this blog know that the term "starving artist" is used here tongue-in-cheek because I'm not actually starving, although there are definitely weeks when I wonder if I will be or not.  But I never am.  God is and always has been such a faithful provider.  Compared to the rest of the world, I'm so wealthy, even though my friend Laura tells me that most janitors make more than musicians who run their own studio.  Awesome, right?

By the way... sorry if this post makes you uncomfortable talking about money.  It's something I'm quite used to by now because well let's face it, when you're at the bottom of the food chain, it becomes an issue.  It always amazes me how people who have money never like to talk about it because they maybe feel guilty that they have it and people who don't have any money sometimes feel ashamed about it, both of which are just silly.  Granted, you want to talk about the issue with people you trust but there's absolutely no reason to feel anything about money other than a healthy respect for it and knowing where it's place is in your life.  Jesus taught on money more than any other subject.  And the more you begin to functionally trust that what the Bible says about how the lilies of the field are clothed in splendor and the birds of the air want for nothing because they have a creator who takes care of them, the less scary it is.  Sounds extremely cliche I know, but I guess that's where child-like faith comes in.  The more you realize the truth that Jesus was who he said he was and came here to do what he did for us and in the end conquered death on our behalf, well... the rest of the stuff we worry about so much doesn't really matter.  Including money.

So in the end, I stop worrying about money and just tell him what I actually need, regardless of cost or logistics.  And I usually have to wrestle with what I actually need for a while and get to a place where I'm doing something that has nothing to do with anything (like driving or running or in the shower) and thinking about everything and then realize there's absolutely nothing I can do in any manner whatsoever to bring about the thing I need so badly.  And it's at that point that I usually weep out loud the simplest of statements, "Jesus I need ________...!" and that's when the Holy Spirit steps in.  Something clicks and I feel myself let go.  It's not a formula.  It doesn't always happen that my needs are met right then.  Especially if I'm in the shower.  Or even a week later.  Sometimes it takes a long time.  But I feel myself let go of the mangled mess that it had become in my mind.  And then when that need is met... it's like none other.

When you really, really need something, receiving it is the sweetest thing.

Having experienced this a lot recently, I have a theory now that if you live your life according to the things you need, you'll never be disappointed.  There have been so many situations where I've received something and known in my heart that it wasn't right because either I didn't really, really need it at the time or the manner in which it was given / received did not have that sweet, need-being-met-in-a-radical-way kind of feeling.  And it's not about the feeling.  But it can be a good litmus test for what's actually going on inside, particularly for yours truly.  I have a theory that if you live only according to what you really need, everything else is just icing on the cake.

It was Shakespeare who said, "Poor and content is rich, and rich enough."  Maybe that's part of what the Bible is trying to get at when it says, "Blessed are the poor in spirit..."

Someday when I meet my husband, it's gonna be awesome.  Because that is a need I've been waiting on for a while now... I really need someone out there somewhere with a Y chromosome and a young heart that knows and loves Jesus, has a good mind, a covenant-view of relationships, and a reasonably attractive exterior to invest in Katie both emotionally and financially long-term.  Given my parents' divorce, I can tell you it scares the crap out of me, even though I know it's something I really need.  And who knows?  Maybe it'll be another 5-10 years before I meet someone.  Maybe I'll never get married.  At this point, I suppose anything's possible.  And I'm ok with that.  God is a good and faithful God.  He'll take care of me in the meantime.

But then someday I'll get to see Jesus.  And it will be the sweetest thing.

Some days I don't want to be extraordinary.  Some days I just want to be good enough to make a difference.  I can make a difference much more gracefully than I can be extraordinary.

Mizzou

This is a picture of my friend James, who is the choral director at Carl Sandburg College up near Chicago and who graciously reads my blog religiously.  We were in school together at Mizzou while he did his masters in choral conducting and I was in my latter years as an undergrad.  Below, witness his excitement upon opening the most recent University of Missouri School of Music brochure to find a picture of you know who...

My hair is definitely shorter in the picture, but yes, it's yours truly.  Taken about two years ago in front of the Columns and Jesse Hall, that picture is my pride and joy.  I had a former student last year, who was a senior in high school at the time, who received last year's brochure among all the college stuff she was getting in the mail (which featured the same photo) and ask me later if it really was me.  HA!  Didn't know your piano teacher was actually legit, huh?  I love it.  Thanks for making my day, old friend! :)

focus

My friend Christine and I were talking last night and she said something extremely profound and completely true:

"I think you just really want to have a plan and it's driving you insane that you don't have one."

Sometimes that girl sees straight through me like no one else.  She is in a perfect position to do it too because we are so similar but we only see each other about once a week.  So she knows everything but isn't sitting too close to the picture.  Bless her.

I wish I had a plan.  I'm trying to figure out how to live life without a definitive one.  And it's driving me crazy.

I finished Don Miller's book, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years last night.  It was good.  Not as good as Searching For God Knows What.  That book changed my life.  And maybe this one will too, in time.  One thing I did get from it is that one way to start living a better story is to start living better practice stories... small goals that you can work toward and accomplish that help give you a taste for what your bigger story is.  My problem is that I have a hard time working details together if there's no big picture.  Literally, I get stuck in the work process, bogged down by the lack of vision.  And that's exactly what's been happening.  But God doesn't always give you the big picture.  So sometimes you have to help yourself out by setting the small goals you know you can achieve and just working toward those... I guess (?).

It just bothers me a lot because all of a sudden it feels like my story is a story of not having a story.  And we all want to have a story, a big-picture vision that is guiding us along, making life meaningful.  For the past 20 years, my story was of being in school.  That's a long time to be in the same story.  And then to make a sudden decision for yourself (last fall) to not continue in that story... well, it's jarring.  And then a bunch of other stuff happened after that decision.  Big stuff.  Life-changing stuff that I won't go into because you can go back and re-read my old posts.  I'd like to think that I'm on the precipice of reinventing myself.  And the thought that maybe I won't and that maybe there won't be another plan or I won't be able to go back to the original plan scares the you-know-what out of me.  But it's silly to think that there won't because there always is, even when we don't see it.   

(Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see... this is what the ancients were commended for).

It's like running.  I'll be glad when I can get out there again.  In the meantime, my story of running crashed into my story of healthcare issues and I'm off the road for a little while, much like my sudden decision to decline my grad school candidacy last fall.  And like the lack of school, the lack of running is driving me insane.

But overall, I'm mostly doing ok.  Mostly content.  Actually starting to be ok with being in St. Louis and doing what I'm doing and not being in Columbia and not being in school.  It's pretty great.  Which of course makes the larger picture even more hazy because I want to change but then get caught in the contentedness I'm starting to feel.  Awesome.  Let's be honest, it's a hot mess.  I just have to keep telling myself that eventually it'll all come back into focus.

a million miles

Some days you just hit a wall.

That's what happened to me today.  It wasn't as bad as it could've been.  Maybe wall isn't the best choice of word... a speed bump perhaps, is a better analogy.  Or maybe an iceberg.  Something that doesn't seem big but betrays a bigger issue.

So I came home from encountering said speed bump, ate, and convinced myself that I was worth a trip to B&N to buy Don Miller's new book, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years.  And then I convinced myself that I was worth wandering next door to Old Navy.  And then I convinced myself that I was worth a half-zip performance fleece on sale for $8.  So I spent roughly $20 on myself tonight, which I haven't done in a while... since last month I suppose, when I really wanted to go to the Stravinsky extravaganza for opening weekend at the St. Louis Symphony.

I think it's ok to spend $20 on yourself every now and then.  Sometimes I really have to tell myself that's ok.  Sometimes I have to really tell myself it's ok to spend $5 on myself...  I can be really ridiculous about it... come to think of it, I can be really ridiculous about a lot of things...

... but it's a process of self-discovery.  That is, discovering that I'm worth something to myself.

Maybe someday I'll convince myself that I'm worth another $20k to go to grad school.

But I think I'm gonna have to wait until I really, really want it.  Like tonight when I really wanted this book.  Because I knew this book would be so good for me to read... because I knew it would be exactly what I needed.  I already know this and I've only read the author's note.

Because when you know, you know.  And if you wait until you really, really want something or really, really need it, receiving it is the sweetest thing.

This is what being a [starving] artist has taught me more than anything recently...

... that, and that there's a Christ out there that I thought I knew, but I didn't... not in the way I'm seeing him now. 

Because let me just be honest with you:  being a starving artist has taught me that I need Jesus.  And not the Jesus that was in my head, or the Jesus I had made him out to be (the one I had grown up with and wrestled with all through college thinking I had him [mostly] figured out but for the life of me could not get him to do what I wanted), but the Jesus who came for me and reveals himself to those who have nothing to give in return.  That's the one I need.  The one who heals us when we can't and saves us from ourselves...

... because when you really, really need something, receiving it is the sweetest thing. 

happy wednesday

I don't know about you, but I need a laugh.  The last couple of days I have been a complete snotball.  My allergies have been acting up and my sinuses have not been happy about it.  It makes for lovely evenings as I stare into the tube, drugged up with a cup of tea and horrendous mornings with the neti pot.  I'm barely getting my work done, if that.  Awesome, right?

But this morning, my mom posted the following on my facebook wall, which made me feel tremendously better, at least on the inside.  This was taken at the Mayo Clinic atrium, where this couple walked in for a check-up and spotted a piano.  Totally impromptu.  Youtube informs me they've been married 62 yrs and he was 90 at the time this was taken.  Boy do I love old people.  And man do I love my instrument.  Watch and enjoy...

From my cup of tea to yours, Happy Wednesday.  Cheers.

monday

Found this via a friend of mine on facebook this morning.  Have yet to find the original source but word on the street is that it was published by The New Yorker Magazine back in the 70's.  Some humor for your Monday Funday...

If only it really were that easy... :)

mercy

I'm going to get to see a doctor!!!!  For free!!!!

No, this is not for the pap I need.  I will get that taken care of soon, though, hopefully... 

In addition to being 25 and needing a womanly visit, I've been struggling with GI issues for the last two months or so... really, years but I've been able to control most of it through a gluten-free diet.  But this issue has recently resurfaced again in the last two months and not just in an ok-what-do-we-change-to-get-rid-of-it sort of way but more like a yeah-I-should-probably-see-someone-about-that-pronto sort of way.  I went to urgent care about six weeks ago but the NP's prescription was really just a band-aid for the immediate issue... in all likelihood there's probably more going on.  And I've been scared like crazy thinking that I was going to incur thousands of dollars in medical bills if I was actually seen by a specialist.  But I applied for Mercy's financial assistance program and found out the other day I was approved for 100% aid for the urgent care visit... thank God, literally.  I was so relieved.  And after multiple attempts of  looking into a number of different options, with both the pap and this and calling about a bazillion different health care providers and trying to get into clinics or apply for Medicaid (which, turns out you only qualify for if you are pregnant and single, disabled, or under the age of 19 and without insurance), I finally found out that if I called the GI specialists through Mercy hospitals, I could get in to see one of them for free since I'd qualified for their charity program.  And if I need anything done for it, it's all covered except for services that aren't provided through St. John's.  But we're hoping it isn't that severe...

It. is. a God-send.  I cried after I got off the phone with them... literally, wept out loud with relief and gratitude.  She scheduled me for an appointment for next Wednesday.

I get to see a doctor.  And soon.

I could weep again now just thinking about it.

I feel like the woman who believed that if she just touched the hem of Jesus' cloak, she would be healed... 

... and I find the whole thing extremely fitting, seeing that in a very direct and tangible way, the Catholic Church is taking care of my healthcare needs when nobody else will.  You see, over half of my students come from extremely strong Catholic families.  In a manner of speaking, I'm pruning future musicians for them, even though their healthcare system and the greater Catholic Church of St. Louis doesn't have a clue and probably won't reap the benefits of it for years.  It's totally God working in and through the circumstances in a really ironic and meaningful series of events.  But it turns out that the Sisters of Mercy really are what they say they are.  And I could not be more grateful.

coffee

Really interesting article from NPR that my friend Savannah posted on my facebook page about women fighting depression with caffeine.  If you've been keeping up with me for any time at all whatsoever, you've come to realize just how true this actually is.  It's also how I fight my ADD tendencies.  I seriously wish someone would've clued me in to the glories of a little caffeine earlier in my life... it might've made my time in undergrad a little easier.  But it's changed my life since then and it helped me make it through my last year at Mizzou, especially when I was up at 5 am every day finishing my research those last couple of weeks.  So from my cup to yours as you read the following:  Cheers.

To access this fantastic article, which is totally worth the 10 mins max it'll take to read it, Click HERE.

tally sheets

Found this article compliments of Dr. Chris Foley's twitter feed, who is a faculty member at the Royal Conservatory.  He tweets awesome stuff so if you're a musician and you're on twitter, you should totally follow him.  He also has a collaborative piano blog which is completely awesome and totally legit.  He is, in a manner of speaking, the real deal.

And sometime in the last 24 hrs he tweeted an article that links to the blog of composer Aaron Gervais, who is also completely awesome and totally legit.  I highly recommend the article below, as it is fantastic food for thought for musicians of all kinds -- composers, performers, and teachers alike.  Not to mention parents and mentors of starving artists (cue Mom haha!).

"Why Composers Should Drop Out of University, etc..."

I could seriously spend all day reading his stuff, because his philosophical views on the arts are so right on the money -- balanced, yet realistic.

I'm still lost on the whole whether to go back to school issue or not.  Unfortunately there seems to be a tally sheet in my head of "Reasons to Go To Grad School" and "Reasons Not to Go Back So Soon" and both sides are continually tied, leaving my brain in a perpetual state of indecision.  Awesome.

But what I do know is this (taken from our sermon at Central today):  "So then, if you know the good you ought to do and don't do it, you sin." (James 4:17)

Or better yet [paraphrased]:  If you know the good you should do, then go and do it for Heaven's sake!

My sermon notes tell me to regularly sit down for 10 mins, breathe, think of all the things that I know I need to be doing (things that are good for me and for others... things that are healthy and proactive and productive and beneficial), make a list, and then go do them.  I think it's a fabulous idea.  Our pastor is a genius.  Or the Lord just tells him exactly what to say to get through to my restless heart.  Thank God he does the good he knows to do :)

And even though everything is nice and gray and unclear right now concerning my future, what is clear is that I need to continually practice.  Because it makes me feel good and enables me to be a better pianist/teacher/collaborative artist.  It is so easy to get caught up in everything else I'm doing as a musician trying to eek out a living and ignore my own stuff.  So here's to practicing and not worrying too much about school... at least for another day or two.

- To find Dr. Chris Foley's collaborative piano blog, click here:  http://collaborativepiano.blogspot.com/
- To find Aaron Gervais' music philosophy and composition blog, click here:  http://aarongervais.com/

Jim

On what would have been Jim Henson's 75th birthday, we remember him with one of the most poignant photos I have found on the internet, compliments of Twitter.  I have no idea where it came from but I'll cite the url below it.

Thank you so much for everything you did during your time here, Mr. Henson.  You wouldn't believe how much you shaped my sense of humor and intellect as a little girl.  You created smart, sophisticated art that even the youngest of Americans could appreciate and learn from.  Even still, your characters illicit some of my biggest laughs.  I sincerely hope you're dancing with many more Muppets on streets of gold, sir.  Cheers.

(URL: http://nastyhobbit.org/data/media/7/kermit-jim-henson.jpg)

the system

This morning was one of those days when you put a lot of effort into something, hoping there will be a return in the future... but no guarantees.  This used to happen to me every now and then during undergrad.  For instance, I would spend half a day filling out an application for a scholarship or run all over campus doing administrative junk in the hopes of churning out one of three things: a. money, b. services for whatever or whomever I was trying to help (if not myself), or c. information.  These situations always suck, they are never fun, and in the end you usually feel defeated, having received nothing immediately in return for your hard efforts. They are always a hassle and usually a gamble at that. Alas, a necessary evil...

What I'm going to talk about in this post will be very real and downright authentic.  If you are potentially adverse to taboo subjects or if you are perhaps uncomfortable reading about things less genteel or language of a certain nature, you should stop reading here.  I will do my best to write gracefully, but what happened this morning is worth repeating because it bears witness to larger issues in our culture right now that need to be dealt with by someone bigger than me who has more power and a gracious heart.  I hope in some small way my story helps someone else reap a benefit later on.

What happened is this:  my roommate Halley, who is a gem of a human being and one of the most caring nurses I've ever met ever tried to get me into her clinic this morning for a women's health appointment.  I haven't had a regular doctor in years.  Literally, years.  I'm a healthy, happy, self-employed 25-yr-old and when necessary, I see my counselor or buy some OTCs.  That's about the extent of it.  I don't have health insurance because I simply don't have the money for it.  I make next to nothing in the name of arts education and my money is better spent buying groceries and gas and paying rent rather than sending it in to an insurance company on a regular basis so I can have the option to pay an additional $40 to see a doctor or perhaps a $2500 deductible (or more!) in the event of an emergency.  I hardly ever see a doctor because I take care of myself (for the most part) and trust the Lord to provide what I really need, when I really need it.  It's a faith walk, yes, but people have been living for hundreds of years without health insurance and maybe they didn't live into their mid-90's but all I have to say to that is this:  Come quickly, Lord Jesus.  Take me home whenever. 

But I have yet to take care of the womanly issue.  I've never seen the necessity of it since I'm not sexually active.  But 25 is pretty old to have never seen anyone about this issue and after months of conversation about everything involved (fears, reasons not to, lack of insurance, etc), Halley assured me that I could probably be seen at the clinic she works at for a nominal fee or possibly nothing, since I don't have insurance and could probably apply for Medicaid through the clinic and be covered.  I shuddered at the thought of being admitted into the system but when you need something, you ask for help if you can't do it yourself.  So you do what you have to do.  I laid my fears aside and made the appointment.

Sounds nice, right?

What happened instead basically amounted to a clusterbleeck.  By that I mean it was a series of unfortunate events in which I felt completely defeated by the system yet again, when I am in fact one of those people who genuinely need its help and don't have a sense of entitlement about it.  I was raised by a member of the vast right-wing conspiracy.  My dad danced in the street when he found out I voted Republican after I turned 18.  I'm not a supporter of big government, but neither am I ok with what we have now.  I've come to believe that Biblical Christians... real Biblical Christians politically walk somewhere in the middle, cheering for the things Jesus heartily said yes to (like caring for orphans and widows and being good stewards of creation) and despising the things he despised (like turning churches into places of business or self-righteousness that leads to judgment of others).  It's a messy line, gray and not always clear.  I don't walk it perfectly and the out-workings of the line in the larger culture are even messier, as is evident by today's story...

I went to the clinic.  I was running a little late, as usual, but nothing ridiculous.  Halley had called me earlier in the morning to tell me she'd spoken with the women's health assistant and had tried to make sure that they waived whatever co-pay would be asked for so that I could apply for Medicaid and get it backdated.

That is not what happened.  I filled out all the necessary paperwork (side note:  I hate paperwork.  I hate signing my life away and giving out my social so that everyone and their brother has access to my financial and personal information just so I can see a bleeping health professional.  I think it's utterly ridiculous).  And then they asked me for a $111 co-pay.  Wait, what?... are you kidding me?  I thought this was a government clinic... $111 is your co-pay??  So instead I said something civil like, "My roommate is one of the nurses here... I thought she'd spoken with someone earlier about my appointment.  Can you possibly page her please?"

Long story short, Halley did get paged.  And it was still a disaster.  Turns out you have to apply for Medicaid separately from the appointment and if you're approved, they'll pay for everything.  But that's only if you're approved for full Medicaid.  If I'm only approved for women's health medicaid, it only covers pregnancy and STD's.  Oh yeah... and it takes 45 days to go into effect.  You can backdate it if you're approved for the things you're seen about during the waiting period.  Otherwise you're on your own bill.  And you have to pay today.  And there's no way Halley could've known this... she doesn't work in billing.  And I haven't been to a doctor in forever.  $111 to make sure I don't have abnormal cells.  Or $50 today and the rest billed later.  Your choice.

It's horrible.  I chose not.

And it goes back to something Jonathan used to say all the time, which I'm coming to believe more and more, although without the same sort of cynicism he used to say it with:  "In America, we reward bad behavior."

Which is true, if you think about it...

If you get pregnant on a yearly basis by a different baby daddy every time (or the same one... I mean, really, it doesn't matter to the system), you get free health insurance, no questions asked.  And it covers everything.  But if you're a smart, driven, self-employed, non-sexually active single who happens to do something that makes absolutely no money and you're lucky to be paying the few bills you do have, well... sorry.  Unfortunately we can't help you.  Because apparently you can help yourself.  Or so they think.  In America, the government gets to choose which of the poor and needy they help.  And they often choose to help people who don't make the wisest decisions.  Someone, somewhere out there with more power than me, please do your job and work to change this...

... and I suppose what I'm really longing for is Heaven.  We live in a fallen world where nothing will ever be as it should.  So we deal with the mess in the meantime.

The worst part of the morning was that I missed my Bible study for this.  I usually have it on Friday mornings and I can't tell you how badly I need to meet with those women on a weekly basis to be in the word and discuss it in a meaningful way.  It keeps me out of my counselor's office.  But this was one of the only free mornings that I didn't have to be in rehearsal when the women's health nurse practitioner would be there.  That's right, not a physician, a practitioner.

I am not a politician.  I don't claim to be, nor do I ever want to be.  But today I felt the full force of the system and all the politics that go with it.  It was not fun and the system we have sucks.  And yes, I'm going to go back and apply for Medicaid because very simply, it's like my mother says:  You do what you have to do.  I have an appointment to meet with the Medicaid officer Tuesday.  Another morning to be lost, if you ask me.  But we'll see what happens.

It's like I said in my previous post:  something has to change, both globally and personally.  I realized this week that the most I will ever make with the degree I have in my field is about $20k / year.  I'm 25 and I've maxed out my income bracket.

Something has to change.  Lord, help me make wise decisions...

swimming

I'm doing laundry at my friend Christine's today, since the washer at Mom's broke earlier this week and we have no laundry at our apartment.  Christine is such a gem of a human being... truly, a dear friend.  I am so blessed to have a number of fantastic girlfriends who make it easier to be a self-employed pianist trying to eek out a living.  I could not do it on my own.

But this week I've realized a very profound truth.  It actually hit me in the shower this morning:  I can't do this forever.  There's no money in what I'm doing.  And I'm not trying to be selfish or build an empire.  I'm just trying to make it.  And I have to continually swim (and swim furiously) in order to do it, lest I drown financially.  It's not easy, this being a musician in the wild.  To be honest, I don't know that it's really possible long-term.  Most female musicians that I know of either teach in the university system... or are married.  Or both.

There are things that are basic to existence that I need to be able to do, like go to the doctor or buy groceries. And I'll be honest with you, dear Reader: it's hard to do even these things sometimes.  Not to mention things like buying a new car eventually or being able to save long-term.  It's a jungle out there.  And the economy doesn't make it any easier.

So something has to change and I'm not sure what it is yet.  I finally got to a point recently where I was emotionally ok with not being in school right now, only to realize a week or so later that it may in fact be the exact step I have to take next in order to be able to actually make enough money to exist in this world without living on a shoestring budget.  Lordy, life is so ironic.

I mean, I could take a part-time position as an elementary music teacher somewhere, if something opened up.  But then I would essentially be kissing my career as a pianist good-bye.  Not sure that's what I want.

The other alternative is marriage... which brings its own set of problems, if it's not the right time or person.  And there's nobody on the radar right now, which I'm ok with, unless you count the Starbucks barista my dad keeps trying to set me up with... another story in itself, lol.

So I don't know... change is in the air.  I feel it and smell it coming in the not-so-distant future.  And I'm not sure what it is yet.  But Lord knows things can't stay like this forever.  I could be fearful, which I completely am some days.  But other days, like today, when my stress levels are lower, I'm ok with it... just taking it in stride.  So I just pray about what the change is supposed to be and for a discerning spirit to make the good decisions when the time is right.

I guess we'll see what happens...

green

Holy cow, I am young.  As in, fresh out of the gate.  I'm 25, running around St. Louis like I know what I'm doing, hoping to God that nobody discovers that I don't actually know what I'm doing with my life... that some days I feel like I'm drowning, barely keeping my head above water.  That yes, I know how to teach piano and I can accompany just fine and I'm not too bad at either but man... have I got a lot to learn.  "Whippersnapper" is the technical term, I believe.

I'm sure the ten of you who keep up with my blog on a regular basis are aware of this (including but not limited to my grandma, my friend Savannah, and one of my old friends and mentors, James who was in grad school while I was at Mizzou... all of these out of state, who use this blog as their basic means to keep up with me -- to which I am deeply grateful)... but apparently I was not aware of my own greenery til recently.  Or at least not consciously aware of it.  Or perhaps I was aware of it, but not yet ready to fully embrace the fact.  Well, I'm embracing it.  I'm as green as they come.  A whippersnapper in the truest sense, since it's taken me seemingly forever to come to grips with it.  But it's ok because it's a better place for me to be than disillusionment and discontentment, which is what I've been battling the past couple of weeks.  Green and ready to learn?  I will take that attitude any day.  Learning is a great place to be.

And maybe that's why I've been struggling with the desire to go back to school recently...?  Not entirely sure but I know one thing, and it's that plateau (both as a pianist and a teacher... and good grief let's face it, as a person too) is not fun, not by any stretch of the imagination.  No wonder my students struggle with it so much... it hits you without warning and, whabam, there you are unsatisfied and going nowhere.  And it's all just been my own pride that's been eating me up recently, masquerading itself as disillusionment and discontentment... always wanting more, wanting to be better, thinking I've mastered where I'm at.  Ugh.  Nasty business, to be sure.

This all came to a head this weekend when I had to deal with a professional situation for which I was not prepared.  I tried to handle it as gracefully as I could but it ended up messier than I wanted and not at all how I would have envisioned.  Definitely a learning experience for Katie.

I believe "growing pains" is the other technical term applicable here.  A severe case of them.

Dr. Doriani had plenty to say about it in yesterday's sermon... something my heart so needed to hear.  He preached on 1 Cor 7 (vs 10-17 and 20-24), where Paul addresses people who feel stuck in certain unfavorable situations like a bad marriage or slavery...

"Nevertheless, each one should retain the place in life that the Lord assigned to him and to which God has called him..." (17).

Stay put??  In a crummy situation??  Seriously?!  Yep, seriously... and I'm not even in a crummy situation.  I just kept thinking I was ready for more when clearly, well... green.

Turns out our inner feelings do not necessarily entitle us to do whatever we want.  Our culture totally advocates and glorifies the idea of finding yourself... we all seem susceptible to it.  I know I particularly am.  Because it seems like a very beautiful, free-spirited idea.  "Eat, Pray, Love" is a prime example of this even though it's one of my favorite movies.  But my green little whippersnapper self will testify that the constant striving and leaving and searching and trying to find... whatever it is you're trying to find... well it leads you in circles... and to nowhere but discontentment.  At least that's been my experience, anyway.

This is not to say that Paul advocates passivity or a lack of learning.  If an opportunity presents itself, there's nothing wrong with giving it full consideration and potentially moving on.  But I paraphrase from my sermon notes, "Our culture desperately needs to stop looking for the next thing and embrace the place we're already in... we do what we're called to do when we're just doing what lies before us.  We don't go looking for our calling.  It's right there in front of us."

Yes.  The striving will kill you... it's been killing me recently.  There's something really, truly beautiful about doing the hard thing, settling in, and just doing your best at what you're doing now.  And in doing so, you may find out you have a lot to learn.  Or you may realize just how valuable your current experiences are after all.  Or you may realize that you're still just 25 and you've only been out in the professional world for a year now and you're still trying to get a handle on being an adult, let alone running your own business... you're still just a baby, you sweet, restless girl.  It's a good place to be, this realization... one that I hope to humbly own for yet a while still.

thoughts from art hill

I am soooo ready to be out of this apartment.  I'm tired of coming home to find dead mice in our mousetraps (the mousetraps we bought, mind you... not our landlord, but us).  I'm tired of glancing out of the corner of my eye to find crawling things with exoskeletons in random places.  I'm tired of doing dishes every five seconds because we have no dishwasher.  And I'm tired of paying decent rent money for it.  This summer I finally started to like this apartment and the area around it but enough is enough.  December 1 will come as a welcome relief.  I'm so glad we're not re-signing the lease on this place.

But that is not what I want to talk about tonight.  What I actually intended to come home and blog about before I found the dead mouse is how amazing it felt to go to the free St. Louis Symphony concert in Forest Park tonight.  It was awesome.  Granted, I didn't get there until about 7:40, since I didn't get done teaching until about 7:20.  Then I had to park... with the concert well under way by 7, the park was chock full.  I literally parked a half-mile away and ran from my car to the concert (good thing I wear my trail sandals ALL the time for just such occasions lol).  And then after the concert, I ran from Art Hill back to my car on Wydown... it was intense.  But it was also invigorating and lovely and refreshing.  And that was just the run... the concert itself was fantastic and made me miss hearing live classical music so much that I literally ached inside, resolving not to waste this concert season by not going to anything... not that I ever intended to do this in the past, just that when you're a pianist, sometimes you have to prioritize:  eating and paying the stupid overpriced rent on your apartment... or going to the symphony.

But tonight it was free and it felt amazing to be alive, sitting on Art Hill in the moonlight with thousands of other St. Louisans, soaking it all in.  I arrived half-way through Saint-Saens' Danse Macabre and listened with delight as the orchestra finished their program with music from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, followed by the finale from Stravinsky's Firebird and last but not least, Sousa's Stars and Stripes Forever.  And David Robertson didn't have a clue, but every single one of those four final pieces on the concert held special meaning for me and made me remember why I have such a deep love affair with music:  because music grows with you.  It stays in your memory bank and collects layers upon layers of meaning as you go about living your life... layers that no one else will ever understand but you, because you will be the only one who lives through all that accumulates.  And for a musician, music is big... big enough for you to get angry at, or carry your sadness for you, or speak to you in the back of your mind about that one thing you can't quite put your finger on.  It's like anything else that's truly powerful -- it seeps into your soul and reveals things.  In other words, for better or worse, music (like all art) has something to say about the truth of our reality.  And the truth it said to me tonight is this:  there's a reason you miss this... go find it.

Which is pretty powerful stuff...

... I want so desperately to find myself.  And I feel like I keep looking in all the wrong places, not to mention way too anxiously for my own good.  The striving is killing me.  And I'm not sure what the answer is yet.  After all, when you're doing what you thought you wanted to do or were supposed to do or are good at and it still doesn't feel right for some reason... then what?

And maybe the answer is that I'm chasing rainbows.  Maybe it isn't outside of myself at all.  Maybe it all goes back to what Anne Shirley says:  I went looking for my dreams outside of myself and discovered, it's not what the world holds for you, it's what you bring to it.

And maybe that's why I miss listening to live music so much... maybe listening makes me shut up long enough to reignite my passion so I can pass it on to my students.  Maybe listening makes me... listen and... think... and... rest.

I'm not very good at resting.  I ran all over Forest Park tonight.  And then I ran into Trader Joe's afterward.  And then I ran to Target after that.  I run a lot.  And I go a lot.  And I teach a lot.  And I don't really stop, except when I blog.  And even then, I'm still talking and spilling out my own opinion.  Maybe the reason I miss listening so much is because it's restful, reflective... worshipful, even, since it points my thoughts away from myself and back to the truth in a way that really makes sense to me.

That's all for now since, you know... I have more to think about.  And a dead mouse to dispose of...

goals, part II

It's a good thing I went to church this morning, since the sermon happened to be exactly what I needed to hear.  Taken from James 4:5-10, our pastor spoke on pride and temptation.  I think his Katie-radar must have gone off this week, since this has been exactly what I've been struggling with...

I'll attempt brevity, but stay with me here:
- I've realized in the past couple of weeks that I'm in a co-dependent relationship with school.  Not that school needs me, but it's the first thing I run to when I'm struggling.  It's what I've always poured myself into when things don't go the way I think they should.  Family problems?  Go write your paper.  No guys around?  Go practice.  A guy pursues you and it makes you uncomfortable?  You've got a test next week... go type up your notes.  It's what I'm good at, and it fully exhausts me so that... well, I don't have to worry about or deal with the reality of the rest of my life.  And we all do it in one way or another... we all have some sort of patch that distracts us from the harsh reality of our situation.  Mine has always been school.
- I have no patch anymore.  I'm not in school.  And as much as I want to and try, there's nothing in my life right now to fully exhaust my emotions.  It's a healthy thing, this not being dependent on school for my validation and purpose in life.  But it's taken away my coping mechanism for now.  I'm on a school diet.  And the withdrawal is horrendous.
- So, I'm not getting what I want right now.  Which makes me feel like a crazy person...
- ...which makes it hard for me to stay motivated.  If I can't go big, it's hard for me to go at all.  A little background:  I graduated Magna Cum Laude and Phi Beta Kappa from Mizzou last year.  To those of you who've never heard of this honors fraternity, I might as well have graduated Pi Mega Tampon (Phoebe, Friends, Season 7).  It means nothing to most people.  But in the world of academia, it's a huge honor.  17 presidents, 38 Supreme Court Justices, and 136 Nobel Laureates have been PBK members.  In short, I look at my academic record and think, "What are you DOING with your life, Katie??  All you're doing is teaching piano and accompanying a couple of choirs.  You need to be doing more... like, a lot more.  Why am I not doing more?  What could I be doing better?  What program could I apply to that would quell my desire to excel in all the ways that I used to??"  Because it turns out, I'm having a hard time existing outside the educational system.  It's a new reality that I've never had to deal with until now and the truth is, it's stinkin' hard.
- And it's hard to admit this truth.
- And it's hard to remember this every day when I wake up and go about my daily business.
- ... which is precisely why I'm not supposed to be in school right now.  If I was supposed to be in school right now, God would have me in a grad program somewhere and I would be happily killing myself every day.  Because that's what I do when I'm in school.
- But it turns out that when you're routinely tempted, even if it's just by the desire for something and it's all in your head, you can't just say no to it over and over again... eventually you'll give in and chances are, you'll probably give in big.  This is what I learned [again] this morning per the sermon at Central... when you're trying to conquer a desire (in my case, the desire to do more and be better academically and professionally... which, let me qualify, is not a bad desire in and of itself at all... it's just that I've made it into an idol), instead of just quitting cold-turkey and deciding you don't want it anymore, you have to decide that you want something different, something better, something... healthier, maybe?  In spiritual terms, you have to re-align your desires to God's.

So my version of better is this:  living in reality, not using school as a diversion from it, and not driving myself insane with this constant need to go out there and win the world.  And realizing that even though sometimes (or very often) I may not feel like I'm doing anything significant with my life right now, I need to remember that I have 11 children whose musical personalities and growth are being shaped by my instruction on a weekly basis.  And three choirs who rely on me to collaborate with them and help them learn parts so that they can have an enjoyable and memorable musical experience.  I may not be doing ground-breaking research or teaching at a university or writing world-class, award-winning arts criticism for the New York Times.  But I can do my part too, and have healthy goals and desires simultaneously.  Because it's not about the desires that I have... those are good.  It's the degree to which I let them control my life and define who I am as a person... that is what's unhealthy.

And the short-term goals I mentioned in my previous post?  Well, I've been thinking about them all day... because despite what I'm doing for others in my professional life, it's important to do things for myself too -- to keep my brain active so I don't blog about how crazy I am on such a frequent basis... ;)

Every semester, my friend Stuart and I used to make a new list of goals.  We would have meetings over beer and burgers where we'd take down the minutes and type up our lists.  I really miss that.  So we'll pretend that you, dear Reader, are Stuart and I'll be our secretary.  Feel free to post your list in the comments section below.  My list of Fall 2011 Goals includes the following (with, we'll say, a deadline of Thanksgiving Day... I'll comment or post again later to let you know how they're coming):

- Read and blog about at least 8 more composers from our favored text, The Lives of the Great Composers by Prof. Schonberg.  That's an average of one per week or less.  Definitely attainable.
- Attend and blog about 2-3 St. Louis Symphony concerts.  Seems reasonable to me.  I really want to go to opening weekend at Powell Hall.  They're performing Stravinsky's Rite of Spring.  I should really make that a reality.
- Organize a writing contest for my students with the topic of their favorite composer, where they must cite three musical examples.
- Re-read the book recommended to me by my counselor last year.  Maybe go through it with my friend Christine?  It changed my life when I read it the first time and I need to read it again and being accountable to a friend is always a good thing.
- Put away $500 in savings.
- Run 2-3 times a week so you can enjoy the change of colors this fall.
- 1 lesson per month.  I need something to practice for on a regular basis.  My own stuff, not just accompanying.
- Spend at least 4-5 Sunday evenings with your mom watching Inspector Lewis on PBS.  Because Lewis' sidekick is a tall, athletic-looking, intellectual blonde man with a British accent.  It's one of the hottest things I've ever seen.  Not to mention that the mysteries themselves are fantastic.
- Remember that as much as you want your students to succeed, they are human children and not robotic machines.  And you absolutely wouldn't want it any other way. 
- Finish reading Madame Bovary...

... and by all means Katie, put away the rest of your ambitious, ass-kicking dreams for at least another two months.  They'll still be there after Thanksgiving.  Otherwise I wear myself out.  Careers aren't built in days or months, but over years.  And you know what?  With some 11 million people out of work, I count myself one of the lucky who has a job... who can make rent and buy groceries.  Praise God for his provision.