I need to learn how to count
Stuart's giving Daniel a bath, the dishes are washed, and I've already done three hours of dissertation work today, so this post is as guilt-free as it gets these days.
This afternoon, I sat down with the rough mix of the recording sessions Pam and I did last week. I got through almost everything, with the exception of one particularly tricky song that's going to need some significant editing because we did it so many times and no one take is mistake-free. One of the other songs, though, we did about five different times, and I noticed that we weren't lining up for about three measures near the end in every single take. What the heck? It turns out I learned it wrong, leaving out an eighth-note beat in one certain place every single time. Damn! At least I'm consistent. There's nothing I can do about it now, but it's niggling at me all the same. (I'd like to point out that this particular song is difficult enough that neither one of us noticed the mistake even after lots of practicing and rehearsing and even performing for the composer the day before we recorded.)
Of course, now that I'm over half-done with the recording component of my dissertation project, last night I finally got around to turning in a revision of my proposal to my committee. Only one gave me any feedback at all on the original I turned in two months ago, which is irksome, to say the least, but whatever. I really really REALLY need to get this done. I'm choosing to interpret their silence as a green light and I'm moving forward as planned. Let's hope no one springs any big surprises at the defense. Like "By the way, sorry I forgot to mention this earlier, but your project sucks. You fail. Just go home and have babies and forget all about the DMA. You won't use it anyway." (Can you tell I'm having a touch of anxiety about where my career is headed?)
In other news, completely unrelated, Daniel is up to some funny/cute stuff these days. He recently figured out how to kiss, and he'll plant about five sloppy little smooches on me in a row. He's also trying to jump; he can't quite do it, so that means he'll stand in one place and bounce up and down several times before stumbling forward. Things are improving on the eating front, too, slowly but surely. Tonight he ate a handful of granola, crunchy, probably-a-choking-hazard-because-it-requires-molars-and-he-only-has-8-front-teeth granola, and did totally fine. Now, if he would only show this kind of interest in vegetables so I didn't have to hide them in a fresh batch of muffins every three days, I would call that real progress.
Happy Monday, everybody.
This afternoon, I sat down with the rough mix of the recording sessions Pam and I did last week. I got through almost everything, with the exception of one particularly tricky song that's going to need some significant editing because we did it so many times and no one take is mistake-free. One of the other songs, though, we did about five different times, and I noticed that we weren't lining up for about three measures near the end in every single take. What the heck? It turns out I learned it wrong, leaving out an eighth-note beat in one certain place every single time. Damn! At least I'm consistent. There's nothing I can do about it now, but it's niggling at me all the same. (I'd like to point out that this particular song is difficult enough that neither one of us noticed the mistake even after lots of practicing and rehearsing and even performing for the composer the day before we recorded.)
Of course, now that I'm over half-done with the recording component of my dissertation project, last night I finally got around to turning in a revision of my proposal to my committee. Only one gave me any feedback at all on the original I turned in two months ago, which is irksome, to say the least, but whatever. I really really REALLY need to get this done. I'm choosing to interpret their silence as a green light and I'm moving forward as planned. Let's hope no one springs any big surprises at the defense. Like "By the way, sorry I forgot to mention this earlier, but your project sucks. You fail. Just go home and have babies and forget all about the DMA. You won't use it anyway." (Can you tell I'm having a touch of anxiety about where my career is headed?)
In other news, completely unrelated, Daniel is up to some funny/cute stuff these days. He recently figured out how to kiss, and he'll plant about five sloppy little smooches on me in a row. He's also trying to jump; he can't quite do it, so that means he'll stand in one place and bounce up and down several times before stumbling forward. Things are improving on the eating front, too, slowly but surely. Tonight he ate a handful of granola, crunchy, probably-a-choking-hazard-because-it-requires-molars-and-he-only-has-8-front-teeth granola, and did totally fine. Now, if he would only show this kind of interest in vegetables so I didn't have to hide them in a fresh batch of muffins every three days, I would call that real progress.
Happy Monday, everybody.
Comments
If that's only a touch of anxiety, I'd really hate to hear you when you're experiencing a full-blown anxiety attack. You'll be fine! In fact, I know you'll kick ass. Don't sweat it anymore.
You will be fabulous. Don't let those outdated Thou Shalt Not Have Babies in Grad School ideas colonize your brain.
jenn, thanks for the reassurance. i was being a little exaggerated there...it's just what happens when my imagination gets the better of me!