Second to last chair in the second violins section: you might as well be banished from Verona.
From this vantage point, the conductor seems but a blur making sudden movements…but, from where you’re sitting it doesn’t really matter because you can’t see anyway. It’s as if the worst of the worst are sent to the back, not only because everyone else is better than you, but because it wouldn’t matter if you were close enough to see the conductor’s signals…you weren’t going to follow him accurately anyway.
At least that’s how it feels.
How do I know that feeling so well? That was me, freshman year of high school. I had auditioned the year before to become a part of the competitive Youth Symphony in my hometown.
Once you were “in” the symphony…there would need to be a way of determining the pecking…I mean…seating order, especially in a sea of violinists. Every orchestra has a section of first violinists and section of second violinists. Most people tend to say the first violinists – on whole- are better, since many pieces have a challenging melody (which they play), whereas, the second violinists take on the harmony…usually resided in the lower octaves and thus, being easier. In actuality, both parts can be equally challenging – but, if one were to make a sweeping judgment, that’s what it would be.
It was audition time and I had hardly done the preparation I needed to. Why was it necessary?! I was a freshman who had made it into the youth symphony – I must be awesome, right?? So awesome I didn’t really need to practice that horrid part of music that required me to play crazy scales super fast complete with awkward bowing. Nope. Not me.
Heh.
Results were in and guess where Val was sitting? Second to last chair second violin.
No words.
Did I mention that this was the evening they were taking the season photos for the youth symphony as well? Yes, it’s true. I have that great accomplishment of mine documented for years to come. It’s priceless actually to see me hunched over in the back – clearly defeated and red in the face from bawling for 30 minutes prior to the photo. I’m glad that moment is captured for all the other 80+ participants to have for the rest of their lives too. I’m not the only disappointed-looking musician…third to last chair probably wasn’t feeling much better, nor the last viola, or last cello. Wait…that’s right…at least I wasn’t LAST chair!
So, who was?
Apparently the last chair second violinist was so humiliated at their position that they stormed out, bawling no doubt, and crushed at the thought of being pegged the worst auditioner of the night. Sheesh, that would be tough…second to last was bad enough…but last??
The next week at practice we were all getting acclimated to our newly assigned seats and stand partners. I was eagerly awaiting the arrival of mine…when just then, he walked up: a seriously cute, younger version of George Clooney with a big smile on his face…with no sign of disappointment or grief. He sat down next to me, introduced himself and we played next to each other that season…chatting, joking and me being even more distracted than I was already…only to realize later that the guy sitting next to me the whole time was one of the best violinists in the Spokane region.
These things only happen to me.
Dear George Clooney Jr. (You’re my FB friend so we’re just keeping it to this),
You had me fooled. For a short time I thought I had escaped being the worst violinist in the symphony – it was supposed to be you.
In reality, something prevented you from being able to attend the auditions that night; as a result you were forced to take the last seat…next to me…only to later become concert master of the youth symphony for many years to come, as well as go on to be a highly acclaimed violinist. So, it was me all along – I was the worst that night.
But you know what, we had a lot of fun back there…and I think I secretly knew you weren’t supposed to be there – you played too ridiculously well. And…despite my constant talking throughout rehearsals, I think you knew I didn’t really belong back there either.
Yes, we both left that stand – improving our chair placement…you definitely more than me – leaving it open for another sorry pair. But, what started out to be a crushing blow to the ego for me, turned into a pretty funny and fond memory of mine to this day.
Thanks for humoring me and being my stand partner,
Valerie
p.s. – that may have been the name written on my sheet music, but please, call me val
Monday, October 24, 2011
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Lady in Waiting...err...Training
I was privileged enough to have the opportunity of being raised by not only a classy mother, but a classy set of grandparents throughout my adolescence and young adult years. I’m sure there were moments that I wished things had been different – I’m sure the feelings were returned…but, I have come to understand what a blessing it was to be raised by two generations of thought which stressed the need for me to be proper, civilized, well-mannered and gracious.
These characteristics were of course expected, not only for my own good, but because those were the very attributes exercised by my family. From grandpa I learned that “waste not, want not” was the motto to live by each and every day…as well as the need to be self-reliant; no need to ask for help, when you can do it yourself…even if it means engaging in the activity much longer than necessary. From grandma I learned the appreciation of British television, not over-staying my welcome, sending thank you notes, literature, not over-sharing my life story with just anyone and everyone and a well-stocked kitchen for visitors. From my mom, a keen sense of pulling myself together, having a spotless home, and an overall appreciation for culture and fine things. This of course skims the surface of what I’ve learned from each of them…but, I think you understand…you’d think I was fit to be besties with Kate, Duchess of Cambridge.
However, as many know me today - while I certainly cherish and appreciate the upbringing that I was given - I unfortunately hardly do it the justice that it deserves…and flunk in quite a few areas. Like any diamond in the rough story, I had the all-star grooming team with all the makings of being a true lady…but unfortunately there is at least one characteristic (many actually) that to this day has proved to be a buffer to all the good invested in me…
Stubborn impulsiveness.
I’d like to think a certain amount of class has withstood the effects of this horrible, yet intrinsically-Val characteristic. I was reminded recently however, that my lady-in-waiting status is very much a lady-in-training status to this day.
[Enter Aircraft Interiors Expo – Seattle, WA]
Two very large airline exposition conferences were being held at the downtown conference center recently. My company was a part of the conference focused in airline onboard entertainment; think: Paramount Pictures, Disney, Sony, Boeing, Airbus, Panasonic, etc. Adjacent to our conference was the Aircraft Interiors Expo which focused on the luxuries of reclining lazy-boy seats, electric blankets, feather pillows and FOOD.
The purpose of having the expos at the same time was to be a convenience factor for all the airlines that were in attendance, both domestic and international; exhibitors at either expo were allowed to enter the other. Aside from larger-than-life booths – complete with a mini replica of the Paramount Picture arch - my conference was hardly a draw compared to what sounded like a feast happening over at the Aircraft Interiors expo. All day long friends in the industry, as well as booth neighbors dropped by telling me I HAD to head over to the other expo for all the amazing food samples being practically thrown at them. By the time 3pm came along, I decided to take a break and check out what everyone had been raving about.
Yes, it was true. There were literally mountains of packaged goodies piled high in each booth in a room that housed at least 100 booths. It was Costco meets Dean & Deluca times 100. People were walking around with bags stuffed full of foods that I had never seen on any of my flights – where have I been traveling and on what airline?! Wine was flowing, packaged gourmet desserts and fancy nuts were being tossed, and platters of quiche and fine cheeses were being sampled as though we were at some VIP party.
I felt a little embarrassed, I mean…I walked in and while everything seemed to be piled so high that food avalanches were inevitable…there was still a sense of each booth being unapproachable. The mere fact that I was there for FREE anything, let alone food, caused me to check any class I had at the door. I had no real purpose there other than to eat. Would Kate do that? …. Strike number one “Ms. Lady in Waiting...I mean...Training.”
I had been sent on a hunter and gatherer mission…but, I didn’t need a bag full of food, I just wanted a couple of samples and return a couple of goodies to my fellow exhibitor. It took me a good 5 minutes of just staring at booths and feeling awkward before I made my first move. I couldn’t get over the feeling as though I were some poor peasant looking to steal a loaf of bread…while so many around me, without hesitation, walked right up and practically bulldozed treats into their bags.
It was some German dessert vendor that I finally strolled up to. It appeared to be empty – no exhibitor in sight who I would need to awkwardly try to avoid eye-contact with while taking a food sample. Nope, I was free and clear… so I strolled up to a large display of tarts, cookies, brownies and miniature pies evaluating whether I wanted carrot cake or pecan pie and whether my co-worker would prefer chocolate mousse or an apple tart.
It hadn’t been but 30 seconds, when from the back right corner of where I was standing I hear snickering followed by a thick accent muttering, “ohhh, just another American here for free samples.” In that moment I immediately feel my temperature rise sparked by an initial jolt of embarrassment followed by spite towards this gentleman, who couldn’t have been 5 years my senior.
I sensed him getting up from a table I had not even noticed and coming toward me in an obligated manner when I immediately turn around and quip, “actually, I'm not here for free food…” [LIE] “…I was looking to learn more about your offerings.” [LIE] Would Kate do that? Strike number two.
Now, we were both uncomfortable. “Good” I thought…misery likes company. This guy was clearly taken aback by the fact that 1) I had heard him mutter under his breath to his colleagues and 2) I had put him on the spot to essentially give me the classic 30-second elevator pitch....which I actually prolonged for a good 10 minutes with a string of meaningless questions torturing both of us just to spite him.
I walked out of that expo with a measly pack of nuts, a packaged brownie and brochure that was forced upon me while pretending to care about European airline dessert offerings. The brochure went straight in the trash on my way out and the brownie went to my colleague…sparing him the details.
Dear Kate,
It appears our bestie status might be on hold.
Despite my family’s best efforts, my love of food and stubborn impulsive behavior has gotten in the way of me being a true, well-groomed lady.
It’s true, if I were a lady, 1) I wouldn’t have sought out free food to begin with and 2) I would not have reiterated multiple times throughout my self-inflicted conversation that I was not there for free samples – even though I was – just to spite the vendor and to watch him stammer uncomfortably.
It’s all very disappointing really…I know Steve and William would get along smashingly. Give me a little more time though, I hope not to disappoint.
I’ll be giving Pippa a call for some pointers in being a true, lady-in-waiting -
Valerie
p.s. I know it’s terribly informal, but please, call me val
These characteristics were of course expected, not only for my own good, but because those were the very attributes exercised by my family. From grandpa I learned that “waste not, want not” was the motto to live by each and every day…as well as the need to be self-reliant; no need to ask for help, when you can do it yourself…even if it means engaging in the activity much longer than necessary. From grandma I learned the appreciation of British television, not over-staying my welcome, sending thank you notes, literature, not over-sharing my life story with just anyone and everyone and a well-stocked kitchen for visitors. From my mom, a keen sense of pulling myself together, having a spotless home, and an overall appreciation for culture and fine things. This of course skims the surface of what I’ve learned from each of them…but, I think you understand…you’d think I was fit to be besties with Kate, Duchess of Cambridge.
However, as many know me today - while I certainly cherish and appreciate the upbringing that I was given - I unfortunately hardly do it the justice that it deserves…and flunk in quite a few areas. Like any diamond in the rough story, I had the all-star grooming team with all the makings of being a true lady…but unfortunately there is at least one characteristic (many actually) that to this day has proved to be a buffer to all the good invested in me…
Stubborn impulsiveness.
I’d like to think a certain amount of class has withstood the effects of this horrible, yet intrinsically-Val characteristic. I was reminded recently however, that my lady-in-waiting status is very much a lady-in-training status to this day.
[Enter Aircraft Interiors Expo – Seattle, WA]
Two very large airline exposition conferences were being held at the downtown conference center recently. My company was a part of the conference focused in airline onboard entertainment; think: Paramount Pictures, Disney, Sony, Boeing, Airbus, Panasonic, etc. Adjacent to our conference was the Aircraft Interiors Expo which focused on the luxuries of reclining lazy-boy seats, electric blankets, feather pillows and FOOD.
The purpose of having the expos at the same time was to be a convenience factor for all the airlines that were in attendance, both domestic and international; exhibitors at either expo were allowed to enter the other. Aside from larger-than-life booths – complete with a mini replica of the Paramount Picture arch - my conference was hardly a draw compared to what sounded like a feast happening over at the Aircraft Interiors expo. All day long friends in the industry, as well as booth neighbors dropped by telling me I HAD to head over to the other expo for all the amazing food samples being practically thrown at them. By the time 3pm came along, I decided to take a break and check out what everyone had been raving about.
Yes, it was true. There were literally mountains of packaged goodies piled high in each booth in a room that housed at least 100 booths. It was Costco meets Dean & Deluca times 100. People were walking around with bags stuffed full of foods that I had never seen on any of my flights – where have I been traveling and on what airline?! Wine was flowing, packaged gourmet desserts and fancy nuts were being tossed, and platters of quiche and fine cheeses were being sampled as though we were at some VIP party.
I felt a little embarrassed, I mean…I walked in and while everything seemed to be piled so high that food avalanches were inevitable…there was still a sense of each booth being unapproachable. The mere fact that I was there for FREE anything, let alone food, caused me to check any class I had at the door. I had no real purpose there other than to eat. Would Kate do that? …. Strike number one “Ms. Lady in Waiting...I mean...Training.”
I had been sent on a hunter and gatherer mission…but, I didn’t need a bag full of food, I just wanted a couple of samples and return a couple of goodies to my fellow exhibitor. It took me a good 5 minutes of just staring at booths and feeling awkward before I made my first move. I couldn’t get over the feeling as though I were some poor peasant looking to steal a loaf of bread…while so many around me, without hesitation, walked right up and practically bulldozed treats into their bags.
It was some German dessert vendor that I finally strolled up to. It appeared to be empty – no exhibitor in sight who I would need to awkwardly try to avoid eye-contact with while taking a food sample. Nope, I was free and clear… so I strolled up to a large display of tarts, cookies, brownies and miniature pies evaluating whether I wanted carrot cake or pecan pie and whether my co-worker would prefer chocolate mousse or an apple tart.
It hadn’t been but 30 seconds, when from the back right corner of where I was standing I hear snickering followed by a thick accent muttering, “ohhh, just another American here for free samples.” In that moment I immediately feel my temperature rise sparked by an initial jolt of embarrassment followed by spite towards this gentleman, who couldn’t have been 5 years my senior.
I sensed him getting up from a table I had not even noticed and coming toward me in an obligated manner when I immediately turn around and quip, “actually, I'm not here for free food…” [LIE] “…I was looking to learn more about your offerings.” [LIE] Would Kate do that? Strike number two.
Now, we were both uncomfortable. “Good” I thought…misery likes company. This guy was clearly taken aback by the fact that 1) I had heard him mutter under his breath to his colleagues and 2) I had put him on the spot to essentially give me the classic 30-second elevator pitch....which I actually prolonged for a good 10 minutes with a string of meaningless questions torturing both of us just to spite him.
I walked out of that expo with a measly pack of nuts, a packaged brownie and brochure that was forced upon me while pretending to care about European airline dessert offerings. The brochure went straight in the trash on my way out and the brownie went to my colleague…sparing him the details.
Dear Kate,
It appears our bestie status might be on hold.
Despite my family’s best efforts, my love of food and stubborn impulsive behavior has gotten in the way of me being a true, well-groomed lady.
It’s true, if I were a lady, 1) I wouldn’t have sought out free food to begin with and 2) I would not have reiterated multiple times throughout my self-inflicted conversation that I was not there for free samples – even though I was – just to spite the vendor and to watch him stammer uncomfortably.
It’s all very disappointing really…I know Steve and William would get along smashingly. Give me a little more time though, I hope not to disappoint.
I’ll be giving Pippa a call for some pointers in being a true, lady-in-waiting -
Valerie
p.s. I know it’s terribly informal, but please, call me val
Monday, October 10, 2011
It's Not You, It's Me
I’ve been both the bearer and recipient of this phrase multiple times in my life. Most people know that, “it’s not you, it’s me” most of the time means “it’s actually you.”
[Enter Long-time Love - Washington]
For the last couple of years my restlessness of living in Washington has increased more and more. Washington is nice; I’ve traversed it from East to West, West to East, then East to West. Yes, I’d say I’m quite the expert on Washington and could list off all the random exits on I-90 from Spokane to Seattle, spout off the number of windmills on the plateau overlooking the Columbia River, tell you the best place to stop for gas in Ellensburg, as well as where the cops like to ticket best.
Like any long, well-established relationship…Washington has become comfortable for me. Most of our family resides here. History and memories have been created here. And arguably, Washington is one of the more beautiful states in the country. But.
But. This one-syllable word seems to disrupt complete satisfaction after a lineup of several amazing attributes.
[Enter New Love Interest – Charleston, SC]
In the effort to escape rain, high cost of living and the our status quo life in Seattle, Steve and I began a search to move elsewhere and start over with new jobs, people, places, etc. Such a romantic idea – it would be the solution to financial woes, sub-par weather, and an overall restlessness. So when we were offered the chance to move to Charleston, SC this summer it seemed it would be a no-brainer. Beach, sun, amazing history, charm, just hours from amazing locations...it was the perfect pair of shoes spotted in the department store. Even Travel & Leisure validated what a grand trade-in we’d be making from Seattle to Charleston. In 2010, Charleston was their number one city on The Favorite US Cities list…Seattle came in toward the bottom of the list. Charleston was the clear winner…the date to have at the prom above everyone else. I was so in love and ready to commit, I had a FB status prepared and ready to proclaim that commitment (that’s when you know things are for real, right?) It would have read: “Uh oh. Looks like the Payettes need to head to reform school – they’re moving to the “Most Mannerly City” in the US.”
But. There’s that word again. Like the perfect shoes spotted in the department store – in order for it to be the perfect purchase, the perfect fit, it needed to be a size 9…and unfortunately it was 8.5. So close, but not the right fit – miserable in fact if stubbornly bought and worn (I’ve done it).
So. We’re back to the drawing board, but it seems as though Washington may be the relationship of choice…for now. But, how does Washington feel about that? How do I feel about that? I guess we’ve got a Determine-The-Relationship (DTR) on the horizon...
Dear Washington,
It’s not you, it’s me. So many are in love with you and yet, I’ve lost that lovin’ feeling. However, there’s something you must have in store for me, a nugget of self-exploration that has yet to reveal itself. I trust that, like in all established relationships, we’ll work through our differences and come out better for it.
The truth is you’re my black flats; the ones I wear day-in and day-out. Comfortable and stylish enough – they go with just about everything. I haven’t been able to part with them. But. Yep, but…they’re starting to show wear and tear and soon enough, polish won’t be enough to cover the clear indication that a replacement will be necessary…and probably not with the same pair…I just don’t know what those replacements will be yet.
So while many times that phrase has been uttered meaning the opposite...I’m beginning to believe that this time around, it really is me and not you.
Valerie
p.s. - you’re right…call me, Valerie? That’s just silly…please, call me val
[Enter Long-time Love - Washington]
For the last couple of years my restlessness of living in Washington has increased more and more. Washington is nice; I’ve traversed it from East to West, West to East, then East to West. Yes, I’d say I’m quite the expert on Washington and could list off all the random exits on I-90 from Spokane to Seattle, spout off the number of windmills on the plateau overlooking the Columbia River, tell you the best place to stop for gas in Ellensburg, as well as where the cops like to ticket best.
Like any long, well-established relationship…Washington has become comfortable for me. Most of our family resides here. History and memories have been created here. And arguably, Washington is one of the more beautiful states in the country. But.
But. This one-syllable word seems to disrupt complete satisfaction after a lineup of several amazing attributes.
[Enter New Love Interest – Charleston, SC]
In the effort to escape rain, high cost of living and the our status quo life in Seattle, Steve and I began a search to move elsewhere and start over with new jobs, people, places, etc. Such a romantic idea – it would be the solution to financial woes, sub-par weather, and an overall restlessness. So when we were offered the chance to move to Charleston, SC this summer it seemed it would be a no-brainer. Beach, sun, amazing history, charm, just hours from amazing locations...it was the perfect pair of shoes spotted in the department store. Even Travel & Leisure validated what a grand trade-in we’d be making from Seattle to Charleston. In 2010, Charleston was their number one city on The Favorite US Cities list…Seattle came in toward the bottom of the list. Charleston was the clear winner…the date to have at the prom above everyone else. I was so in love and ready to commit, I had a FB status prepared and ready to proclaim that commitment (that’s when you know things are for real, right?) It would have read: “Uh oh. Looks like the Payettes need to head to reform school – they’re moving to the “Most Mannerly City” in the US.”
But. There’s that word again. Like the perfect shoes spotted in the department store – in order for it to be the perfect purchase, the perfect fit, it needed to be a size 9…and unfortunately it was 8.5. So close, but not the right fit – miserable in fact if stubbornly bought and worn (I’ve done it).
So. We’re back to the drawing board, but it seems as though Washington may be the relationship of choice…for now. But, how does Washington feel about that? How do I feel about that? I guess we’ve got a Determine-The-Relationship (DTR) on the horizon...
Dear Washington,
It’s not you, it’s me. So many are in love with you and yet, I’ve lost that lovin’ feeling. However, there’s something you must have in store for me, a nugget of self-exploration that has yet to reveal itself. I trust that, like in all established relationships, we’ll work through our differences and come out better for it.
The truth is you’re my black flats; the ones I wear day-in and day-out. Comfortable and stylish enough – they go with just about everything. I haven’t been able to part with them. But. Yep, but…they’re starting to show wear and tear and soon enough, polish won’t be enough to cover the clear indication that a replacement will be necessary…and probably not with the same pair…I just don’t know what those replacements will be yet.
So while many times that phrase has been uttered meaning the opposite...I’m beginning to believe that this time around, it really is me and not you.
Valerie
p.s. - you’re right…call me, Valerie? That’s just silly…please, call me val
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