Yesterday’s post was a little bitchy about food. By the time Starbucks opened, I decided to tough it out AND go to morning prayer. This was a mistake. I was short of blood sugar, and particularly fluids (because I’m not swilling coffee all day), I got tight in the throat and short of breath, and couldn’t sing for shit all day. But dinner was quite good. The problem, besides brekkie being so late, is that meat is skimpy. I think that when I leave here, I’ll stop at a steakhouse. Actually, I’d had a fantasy of all-you-can-eat bacon here, and being a fantasy, it didn’t match reality. I snagged a dinner roll last night for this morning, and it should hold me until 9
Advanced chant was better, as I was up front and could hear. The ambiant noise around this place is amazing. There’s the mechanical systems of the dorm (white noise, almost a feature instead of a bug), train whistles all night, big trucks outside the church, construction. The problem with the chant was that we were doing an OF Requiem (never saw that before) and they were splitting the Tract between men and women, which meant they felt they needed a rehearsal before the mass. We didn’t, really; the runthrough went fine. But a bunch of us had to bail early on Mahrt, and he was pissed. I think maybe we need a “no early runthrough” policy, and if you’re going to do something that requires it, well, just don’t do it. I can understand Mahrt being impatient with the situation; there’s been a snafu at the church and a wedding rehearsal had been booked for when Vespers was scheduled, so they had to reschedule later.
For the conducting class, I got a couple of key concepts from Buchholz that have fixed my entire stick issue (or will once I practice and feel comfortable). Lunch was tomato soup and grilled cheese. I had several newly-made priests at my table. Richard Rice finally showed up, and I did shake hands with Mr. Tucker, so all is good.
Dinner was an Asian theme. We also had wine, dessert (absent yesterday) and fortune cookies containing various quotes from the Missal. I had “I am not worthy that you should come under my roof”, somebody else had, “through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault.” this was either very sacred, or blasphemous, and I’m not all all sure which. I sat with a 16 year old girl named Grace from WV, who is directing a children’s choir, and who refused the wine, multiple times. Very charming, and sang well. It was “pastoral music night”, so Msgr. Wadsworth and Tucker led us through strategies for implementing the new chants.