Hey it's not like I am unhappy in my marriage. It's just that as things change,  I need my environment to change to reflect it. Karl's nightly snoring/waking me up has got to stop. I may have to make the choice to head back to the shabby chic retreat of my bedroom. No snoring there. Man, I sound like a bitch tonight; it's been a stressful week of insults and anxiety, reminding me the part of academia I despise.  Crab, crab, crab.

I finally picked up the ring that was designed with the stones my father left me, Karl's engagement diamond, and the topaz my parents gave me on my 18th birthday. It's a very special piece. With the rest of the stones earrings will be made to complement the ring. To wear at Carnegie Hall.

My sister's bakery is opening this weekend, and I am taking some personal time (away from school) to fly out there to support and celebrate her. My parents would be beside themselves with pride: the little girl who never wanted to leave home, who called for hours each night just to talk to them...Here she is with her own bakery. Her own dream. And she's left everybody in the dust. Rejects all offers of assistance. It has taken me two weeks to get her to call me back and confirm that someone can come and get me at the airport. My friends who live in the area will be out of town. I was about to reserve a limo at about $200 to get myself to their place. Ah, now, don't question me: Due to the nature of the trip, I couldn't get a rental car, which I've always done.

This trip has more than one item to achieve. I wanted FOR SURE to be with K and TJ on Halloween. My dad loved it so much, and they loved having him,  that I've taken it up for as long as they'll let me. I even have a costume. Pictures will be posted. I am also looking forward to sitting at the bakery (I hope she has coffee), watching the world spin, and grading 300 assignments. Or, maybe I'll blow that of and play with the kids!

On all Saints Day, my wonderful friend Lori will be driving down from VT, picking me up and tooling down to Brooklyn. A girls' night in a nice hotel, good food, probably laughing, and crying--she and I lost our dads only a few months apart--and then she'll come with me to a very special appointment.

I am having a dress designed and built for me by designer Garo Sparo. This is the gown I will wear at Carnegie Hall. I don't feel intimidated or unworthy or anything like that. This has surprised people. My friends are veerrrrrry unsure about this, and they are not taking advantage of Mr. Sparo LOANING them garments for our concert.  Whatever! I don't know if it speaks more to my sense of adventure returning or their midwestern distrust of the edgy east coast.  Would my parents be as proud of this as my sister's bakery? Honestly, no. My grandfather was a butcher, and so my sister having a bakery is a natural-ish evolution for our family. I, however, and despite of a doctorate, am the creative willy-nilly. Not really doing anything for anyone else...that's old stuff creeping up. I know my mom would LOVE to see me have a dress custom made! In good times, she was a fashion plate.  I think my parents would have come to Carnegie Hall, perhaps out of duty, not excitement. The music I sing bored them both silly; especially foreign languages and avant -garde music: ALL of which are represented on this exciting program. In the past, I got lots of eye-rolling after the concert and digs about the "music" I was singing. I won't have that now, because I doubt my sister will be at the concert. Other extended family will be there, and though they may not understand some of the music, they would never speak ill of it, or brush it aside. Or downgrade the importance of a gig at Carnegie Hall.  I remembered my debut at the Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts in Washington, DC in 1986. My aunt and uncle had to strong arm my parents to come. And my sister wasn't there. I am blessed to know many people who'll be attending and I will embrace them all. And send a big thank you up in to the ether---for their indifference helped me really take ownership of this craft and dig in to be the best possible singer. Long time coming.

How have I changed throughout all the years of my parents calling me snob, an intellectual, suggested I was "loose" because I was singing on the opera stage?

 I know the discipline it has taken me to get to this place, and I have done nothing about which I have been ashamed. I also know that it is OKAY that musicians perform as much for themselves as the audience. My parents thought that was the most selfish statement I'd ever made. I know if the performers don't love it, the audience will know it, and that would suck. It's not bad to love what one does, to acknowledge one is good at it. Again, their attitudes made me think for myself and form my own, and be firm in that belief, because I wasn't really getting it from them. Looking back, I 'm glad I got that lesson early, I got right on that train to self-discipline, self-soothing after a hard audition, and learning to bounce  back after a mediocre performance. My sister has never had to gain these skills. I feel bad for her. I think she is beginning to own herself now, although how she sustains slow business, the risks of a new business, I don't know.

I hope we both reach our new normal and somewhere, in the middle we have some common ground.