Rollercoaster Day!

OMG I can't even begin to tell you what kind of day I've had. I feel so manic and emotional, but--and here's the spoiler--it worked out in the end, and I'm so unbelievably thrilled-happy right now.

Last night I went to my lighting tech, and the teacher guy said last week--be there at 6:30 or 6:45. I've been trying to nail dates and times down all semester with this guy. Just tell me what time you need me to be where I need to be and I'll be there. All semester. But he's been evasive and unwilling to give me a straight answer. Turns out the date changed for an important tech from a taiko day to a non-taiko day--all last minute which I can understand, but he needs to tell me! And the thing is, I was all willing to give up taiko for this. By then I had already scheduled something for that day, so that just left yesterday to watch someone's show and figure out how to do the lighting for the piece. But when I finally got into the building (it was locked, and I got there at 6:30) it was already 6:45, and he was like, oh, it started at 6:00. So he didn't let me light a piece and cut me out of the show, and I just sat there like an idiot. So today I got to thinking, why even have me in the class if the culmination of it was to be lighting this piece, only to not tell me that the time had changed? I was upset. Is it so hard to shoot off an email? Call? This is so not about my ego.

Anyhow. So there was another tech run-through tonight, which I had absolutely no role in. He didn't even try to pull me into some sort of the process. But at the end of the class I did something that made me proud (and my Mom too--I know she's looking down on me, giving me the courage).

I confronted the guy.

Don't you hate it when you're really emotional and your mouth starts shaking and you fight to keep your eyes from welling up? But I stood there, as courageously as I could. It wasn't easy. But basically I told him that the communication had broken down, and it was his responsibility to make sure his students were informed, but that he had failed to do that. After a while it turned into a but-but-but conversation. I said, you had all week to tell me. You knew how to get ahold of me, but you didn't do that, and that's where the communication broke down, and now I don't have a role in what was supposed to be the final project. I told him I didn't see myself returning.

And now I'm FREEEEeeee! Oh, thank goooodness! I came home and checked my email and lo and behold there were like 4 emails all talking about the possibility of a gig. COMMUNICATING! Imagine that! There was confusion, questions, confirmations, information. All while I was gone for just a couple of hours at this thing. See!? Communicating is so easy! You don't even have to BE THERE while it's happening. Oh, and I'm doing the gig. I love those girls. It's so nice to come home from a tough day and the people that you're actually fond of have left nice little messages in your in-box. Not just messages, but confirmations that what you believe in actually happens in this world, and the people you respect the most are doing exactly what the people who frustrate you the most aren't doing. It's like when karma comes back to you in a good way, kinda.

Ok, ok, drama aside. Here's where it gets really good. Between work and the tech, I went to the bad part of town on the other side of the tracks (literally!) and met up with Janet to pick up this. It's shy.

Geez. Do you even know what that is? Here, here's another shot, less shy:

See how it comes with its own blankies? And here's an even better shot:

And here I am, a happy mama. Remember when I got my first shime, how proud and terrified I was? That's kind of the state of shock I'm in tonight, but times ten. When my niece was born, her Mom held her for the first time and exclaimed, Hello baby! Hello beautiful! That's me. Except without the pushing:

OMG! Hello Baby!! That there is a drum body. A pure, brand new drum body (with nice bracing inserts and already-glued-back-together). A while ago Janet offered me the body with the expectation that I'd have to finish the outside and skin it, oh, and let us play with it. But it'd be mine. I was in shock when she offered it to me. I'm still in a lot of shock. The question I have, but am so terrified to ask, is why? I couldn't turn it down, but I don't know how to thank her. I don't know what to say. I'm still kind of in shock. Why?? And how in the world can I even begin to pay it back? Or show my gratitude? How can I live up to the gratitude that I feel? I still don't know what to say. My thank you's feel weak and hollow. This is something else, I tell you. I don't think anyone who wasn't related to me has ever showed me so much kindness. There are no words for this.

Oh, and she also leant me some tools. Here's a box of pricklies and brute force do-hickies and a bottle of contact cement that I still can't quite figure out. There's also 4 very heavy-duty jacks buried under the bachi and rope. I love the mallet. Very road-runner. Don't hit me over the head with it because I don't want to wake up from this wonderful dream.

So you see, this is going to be an adventure. THE (pronounced "THEE") biggest livingroom floor workshop project ever. And the skeletons in my closet?--stretching rack. Oh and the best part is that she leant me her drum-making journal. It reads like the diary of someone who was stranded on a desert island and had to build several versions of a raft to escape, but left it behind for the next person. I thought I was anal and particular, but do I have notes for building my shime stand or chekere? No. Maybe I should be doing that...

But you see, I am just so honored, and so humbled. And terrified. I think that's why I'm in here blogging about the drum body, instead of nursing it.

Adventures in drum building next. And a gig. What a wonderful life I live. So exciting. So filled with its ups and downs, but the downs work themselves out and turn into lessons in courage, and the ups go so high I can't quite wrap the words around them to ground them.

I need to work on the gratitude thing. Definetely.