OK, luvs — I’m off the RtB grid for a couple of days. BEHAVE!
See you soon
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Ha ha. It is to laugh.
No, really. It’s funny, and I loved reading it.
Not the article, mind (although it’s, um…big, I’m sure), but rather some of the comments after the article. That right there was my coffee entertainment this morning.
Please don’t read meaning into anything — I’m not hating on The Donald. It doesn’t matter that I think he’s a cockadoody pompous arrogant jackarse whackjob with an orange face. It’s just that sometimes, the regular Joes and Janes of the world are better pundits than the ones on the payroll. That makes me happy. Cuz it’s funny.
Oompa loompa, doopah-dee doo. *sNOrT*
In other news: there cannot possibly be only a dozen days left till we open, with four nearly-sold-out shows, and when everything onstage is still horrible.
Looking back, looking ahead
What a nice weekend.
Everything turned out to be as perfect as could be, from the decorations to the ceremony to the reception to the day after. Even the music was decent. 
Although we obviously didn’t get any candids from the wedding itself, here are a couple of before-and-afters.
Fink at the church, playing ancient Chinese ballad called Too Ning.
The reception hall was a 100-year-old school building in a small rural town nearby. This photo was taken mid-setup (decorations beautifully designed by BFF Kay).
Jake and Justin, being great helpers as Kay and I cleared the center table so the dancing could start.
One of the best pictures of the night: the Thriller, lost in conversation with his little girl.
And we danced (and danced and danced) the night away.
Their joy was contagious.
Last I heard, they were about halfway to their honeymoon cabin in the mountains. It was a fantastic weekend of reuniting with family and great times with friends.
After the marathon clean-up of Saturday night, the Thriller took me on a day trip to Cleveland yesterday. It was lovely to get away one last time before the true madness of the next 14 days begins (that would be today).
We had some casino fun (and came home with more bones than we left with — score!), had lunch out, then stopped at the Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory on the way home. What day that ends with chocolate cannot be called fabulous? I ask you.
So now: the look ahead. Kent State class begins tonight, and the push to opening (and Suzanne’s impending visit, YAY) begins tonight. Gonna be an interesting couple of weeks. Let’s roll!
Let’s roll!
All it needs is a nice polishing, and at least it’ll look good. HA. I love this instrument, actually. A Strad copy built in 1968 by Roth (so I come down on the German side of the whole German vs. Italian violin thing), my parents bought it for me when I was in the 3rd grade, and I’ve played it somewhat regularly over the decades — with its original pernambuco bow — ever since. I do need a rehair, though, yikes.
I studied privately, nonstop (including summers, grrr) from 1968-1977, when I graduated high school. I hated practicing (then as now), but I have to admit I love playing it — now that I don’t *have* to.
For being a “student model” violin, it has an amazingly warm, full, dark tone, and I wouldn’t trade its color and sound for the world, or for its brighter, more bell-like Italian relatives. It’s like an extension of me after 40-some years, and I hope to play it for many more to come.
Speaking of playing, I suppose I ought to think about warming up the fingers and arms. Many hours to go before I collapse back here late tonight after cleaning the reception hall, post-party. Papa Thriller is looking forward to getting gussied up and giving away the bride; it will be a fun day.
Laissez nous rouler!
Penultimate wedding stuff
- Appointments in Vermilion, Mansfield and points elsewhere — check.
- Practicing done, fingerings marked, order determined — check.
- Dress bought — yikes.
- Extra set of violin strings, just in case — oy.
- Wedding programs folded — nope.
I see I’m not quite done yet. But getting there! I may not have a moment to post this weekend, but I will try over coffee. In case I don’t, however, everyone is assigned to a great weekend — finklove to all.