Bastille Day

5/20/99

I just looked back at the entry on 3/24 to check my progress on those resolutions. I suck. I finished the set theory class and the orals, but only because I had to. I was a shell of my academic self. So unprepared. I did the minimum for my degree--I'm so ashamed. (Yah, whatever.)

The only other thing I've even started are those transcriptions of the Telemann, and really all I've done is to play through them a few times...one of my students is working on one, but it's not even my edition. I'm such a lazy butt. I need to start packing, too.

And know what? I'm not going to do any of that other shit, because I have a freaking wedding to organize. Bye-bye summer recital. Bye-bye fame and fortune. I'm getting married. July 14th. Anyone who reads this journal is invited--e-mail me. Damn it. This is the most formal invitation anyone's getting.

So here I am, all feminine, and I'm making spaghetti sauce with John's family recipe. The secret recipe. Well, the recipe comes with a jar of the secret spices. John's mother's wedding gift to me will be the spice recipe. So I'm using the jar of mystery spices. The sauce simmers for three days, boiling down to a brownish sludge. It's fantastic--much more bitter than traditional pasta sauces. So comforting to have it bubbling away on the stove.

Today I was sooo productive. Worked out, went to school, took care of my student loans. Planted flowers. Did the dishes. Even wrote my grandmother a letter. Bought a big floppy hat, because I have a slight allergic reation when my forehead gets too much sun, and some aromatherapy candles. I'm now calm and...and...oceanic. Yeah.