Wednesday, February 20, 2013
Childhood Art, Violin Lessons, and Downton
The other day my sister Jessica sent me a picture she drew of me with my violin teacher (and her piano teacher) Sister Susanne. It's pretty flattering, don't you think?
Things to note:
1. Yes, my nun music teacher did wear Reeboks. We never could figure out why she just didn't chose an off-brand orthopedic shoe. I mean, where's the vow of poverty in that? At least they weren't Reebok pumps.
2. Jessica didn't know how to spell Suzanne.
3. Yes, she is both making fun of my haircut (notice the razor/layered look on the back of my head) and the size of my lips, which seem to droop over the body of the violin. Also, not only do I have a bad haircut, but I actually seem to have a reverse receding hairline at 7.
4. That does look like the footie pajamas I wore every day in second grade.
5. I think Jessica may have actually depicted Sister Suzanne in a more cheerful mood than usual.
Other fond memories from violin lessons:
1. Sister Suzanne swatting my butt with her bow. Even at 7 I knew that was inappropriate.
2. Going to Hardees after with my dad if I got a B or better on my lesson grade...and sometimes even if I didn't out of pure sympathy (Yup, she graded us. She would right comments in this blue lacquered notebook in this annoyingly perfect handwriting and then give you a lesson grade).
3. Giving Sister Suzanne a Christmas present and watching her take a scissors and spend about 5 minutes opening it so she wouldn't rip any of the wrapping paper. It took everything in my elementary body not to grab the present, shred off the wrapping paper in a fit of impatience, and throw the contents back in her lap, yelling, "Merry Christmas!"
4. All those stinking Suzuki variations on "Twinkle, Twinkle" and the really awkward Suzuki Festival that I went to with my dad, where I faked many of the songs (you were supposed to have them memorized) and wished I was playing catch rather than getting group lessons on Humoresque (why do I remember the song?!). I'm actually fairly confident that my dad also wished we were playing catch instead.
5. The dank basement hallways of St. Scholastica (the college/convent where my lessons were held) that seemed to go on forever in an underground labyrinth. I always hoped I would turn a corner and see Splinter mentoring Raphael after another one of his all-too-common temper tantrums.
Old Man and the Sea has taken the lead in the most-hated American classic novel poll. There's still lots of time to vote! And I know I mistyped "Finn," but I can't edit it without deleting all the votes so far. Trust me; I tried.
Downton SPOILER ALERT:
So, at this rate, I think Downton Abbey should have a spin-off: Downton Afterlife in which we follow all of the deceased characters and their exploits in the next life. Will Lady Sybil and Cousin Matthew overcome the meddling of Mrs. Bates to seal their eternal love? Or will Cousin Matthew realize that Lavinia was the woman for him after all, even after her brief fling with former Downton footman William? Plus, we'll get to meet the two heirs that went down on the Titanic. Maybe the Turkish attache will a reappear to seduce another woman? Who knows? The possibilities are endless...and eternal! And the rate Downton Abbey is going, new characters will be added to the Afterlife almost weekly! Maybe there will be a special door by which people enter the afterlife upon death at Downton. We'll see! © David D. Bjorlin, 2013. Also, I'm calling it right now: Lady Mary and Tom Branson will be hooking up sometime in season 4.
Sometimes in my pre-bedtime reading, I purposely withhold moisture from my lips so that chapstick right before bed will feel that much more amazing. It may be weird, but it's the little things in life.
Welp, it's time for me to head up to Lexington for meetings/small group. TGIW. Bjorlin out.