Bye Now, 2010

Today, my mother-in-law showed me a Christmas letter in which the author detailed one thing that had happened in her life in each of the previous 52 weeks of the year.  Also today, I read through a whole bunch of other folks' blog entries in which bloggers recounted the highlights of each exciting, wholesome, & overachieving month.

To which I say, bite me, bloggers.

Still, I feel like I owe myself some kind of 2010 wrap-up.  And by 2010 wrap-up I do not mean the bottom of the champagne bottle, though there's still time.  For posterity, then!

January:  Um...what happened during January?  I think I was cold. I think I also played a concerto with a very small orchestra.
February: Has vanished entirely into the dark and terrible maw of time.
March: Ha!  I'm pretty sure I went to Florida in March!  And spent the entire two days waiting out torrential rains in an old folks' home!  Is it possible I also played in Missouri?  Ooo!  And I did my taxes.
April:  .....right...April.   I think I went to Ohio.   Twice.
May:  I found out I was leaving Indiana.  I toured West Virginia, visited Virginia, ate at Tudor's Biscuit World for the first and only time, rented an apartment, orchestrated part of a tour for my ensemble, finished up my Indiana schools job, did five or so school outreach concerts, and was generally insane.
June: Lolling.
July: Packing.  Low spirits.  Music camp.  Moving.
August:  The power of the porch is revealed to me.
September:  Back on the gainful employment horse, having sold my soul to industry.  Also cheese.
October: Train to NYC.  I love trains!  More work.  No trick-or-treaters.
November:  Baby, it's old inside.
December:  Worried intermittently/futilely about the increased complication of 2010 taxes, esp. as had previously judged 2009 taxes equivalent to passing comprehensive doctoral exams in Macedonian Studies.  Contemplated the very exciting life I lead.  Played first VA concert in the dark.  Tried Xanax.

Heck yeah, people!  If nothing else, I hope this exercise allows you to reflect smugly on your own considerably more interesting lives.  Love to all, and to all a good night.