I’m working on a post for next week and I’m dying over it. Dying of embarrassment. Embarrassing moments are something I thrive off of. Mostly when it happens to other people, but I have a few stories of my own. Warning: potty humor involved/I can’t believe I’m telling you this story.
For example, I told you a couple of weeks ago that I play the cello. Well, in high school I played for the local college orchestra. A lot of adults from around the community also played in the orchestra but I was definitely the youngest in the group. We were performing Copland’s Appalachian Spring, which is now one of my very very favorite pieces (regardless of what happened in this story). If you’re unfamiliar*, Appalachian Spring is a 25 minute piece for 13 instruments where there are moments of intense stillness and others of wild hoedowns. Well, guys, I had to go to the bathroom and I failed to go during intermission, which was NOT smart for a 25 minute piece. So, I held it. I’m trying to feel the piece and the gorgeousness of it all, but I can’t stop thinking of how I can inconspicuously put my cello down in the middle of the piece and make a run for it.
The end of the piece is one of those still moments—like, the audience has to lean in to hear if anyone is still playing—and the very last note is one long note that fades off into the sunset, when all of a sudden…
It was audible. And it was ugly.
No one said a word to me. But I was mortified. Like red in the face/don’t talk to me mortified.
Ok, I told you mine, now tell me yours!
*But get familiar! It’s so good. Listen to it here. It’s especially good if you’re driving THROUGH the Appalachians or any road trip for that matter.
This week on the interwebs:
It’s all about balloons right now! (and stay tuned for our version…great minds think alike! ha!)
The sun has been out more. Time to stock up on some of these (I’ve lost 3 pairs in the last year!)