Last night Julia and I went up to Christopher's for dinner and some extra-curricular rehearsal time for the Exultate concert next week. As usual, the choir is a bit unprepared for this concert. We've only had one rehearsal on some of the music, and we've only got the dress rehearsal left before the concert itself. The music is mostly straightforward, but there are some surprising bits; as the programme is almost all supposed to be funny, we'd really like the audience to see expressions other than raw terror on our faces as we sing.

True to form, Christopher served a great meal, along with beer, wine and 'bog'. We managed to make it through all of the music, and sang every note correctly at least once. (Not necessarily all in the same run through, of course.) Our duty done, we retired to discuss... well, we basically talked about me and my relationships (and current lack thereof) with a distinctly psychoanalytical bent. We concluded (well, put the conversation on pause, anyway) at about midnight and as I'd been up late both Monday and Tuesday night I was, accordingly, very tired when I got home. As a result of this fatigue (and the 'bog') I managed to bang my head on the cupboard door (tidying up the kitchen -- Thursday my cleaning lady comes 'round) and am now sporting a little red scar.

The things I suffer for my music...
posted by Tom at 2:14 PM | link |