I decided since it was spring, I should change my blog out of it’s winter garb. The problem is, my whole dashboard is in Indonesian, so I got kinda lost. So, this is what we ended up with. =) Enjoy and it will most likely get revised when I can actually read what I’m doing.
And now for part 13 of When Life Hands You Lymes. And as always, I’d be delighted to hear your comments. 🙂
Wednesday morning arrived with a splitting headache and a horrible case of nerves. I was not nearly as prepared for my audition for the Ashburg Symphony as I had wanted to be. Sure, I had spent every spare moment (and many un-spare moments) practicing, but still, when it gets right down to it, can any one ever practice enough for a big chance like this? Besides, being sick didn’t help me feel confident either. Sickness and I don’t mesh well. It’s like “Hehehe, I’ll make you feel all gross and icky, then you can try and impress the socks off of the Ashburg Symphony people.” Yes, totally unfair.
But I mustered up what courage was given to me along with the last name of Emerson and walked into the building with my head held high and my fingers clutching Prelude’s (which is the name of my lovely violin) case.
“Are you ready?” Mrs. Jenson’s voice surprised me, I hadn’t realized she was going to be at the audition.
“I can’t fail you, can I?” I asked, giving her a quick hug. Seeing her helped steel my resolve. After all, she was my dedicated violin teacher who had spilled blood, sweat and tears for me. And she’s the one who knew how much I dreamed and longed to be in the Ashburg Symphony.
“You don’t look too good, honey.”
“That’s just what I needed to hear.” I gritted my teeth and gave Mrs. Jenson a pleading look.
In a instant, her countenance changed, “Don’t worry, you’re going to do an amazing job. I’ve never had a student who’s practiced like you do. Your performance is going to go without a hitch. Just breathe nice and calm and make sure you take deep breaths.” Her smile looked genuine and somehow gave me the courage to finish the walk to the front of the room. Everything was going to be ok. This was only the Ashburg Symphony, after all. And that’s when my knees began shaking.
The audition was a blur to me. I know, I know. That’s what everyone says, but it’s true. I had thought every detail would remain stamped in my brain forever, that sixty years from now I’d be recalling it step by step to my grandchildren… Instead I left the building feeling as if I were in a dream, not quite able to figure out if it was a good or a bad one. And I was tired, oh so tired. All I wanted to do was go and fall into bed. I know, exciting picture I’m painting here, right?
“How do you think you did?” was the first thing Mom said when I got back out to the car where she was waiting for me. She had insisted on coming along as morel support, even though she was alright with staying in the car.
I gave a small shrug. “I have no clue.” And really, I didn’t. I couldn’t remember anything about it.
“Do you want to go and celebrate with some ice cream?” Ice cream with Mom is a treat, even at the age of sixteen, but I shook my head.
“Maybe we can go straight home? I think I’m ready for a nap.”
Mom opened her mouth, as if to say something, then she closed it and gave my arm a small squeeze. “Sure Madalyn, you deserve it. Hopefully you’ll have this cold, or whatever it is, kicked within a few days. Make sure you drink plenty of water and don’t eat any sugar.”
Despite my tiredness, I smiled. No matter what the aliment, Mom could be called upon to give the same advice day and night. The amazing thing was, it actually seemed to work most times. Even with our crazy-busy life, we hardly ever got sick, and when we did succumb to some bug, it didn’t last long. And that was a good thing, seeing how none of us were what you would call model patients…