The friend from the airport: another story

If you read my blog about the woman I was to pick up at the airport then you can kind of expect the nature of this particular story.

A few days ago she asked me to come to her studio to record some tracks with her (she on violin, me on piano). We agreed upon 8:05 Saturday night (having no date, this was no problem), and should conclude around 10ish. Saturday morning she reminds me to please come at 8:15 (note the subtle time change). Knowing her, I didn't even plan to leave my house til 8:20. At 8:20 I step outside, get in my car and drive off towards her house. Not half a mile outside my neighborhood I see she's calling me. I answer, and the conversation went basically like this:

Her: Hey, where are you?

Me: I'm in my car on the way to your house.

Her: Oh, I thought you fell asleep or something so I am at your house waiting to pick you up.

Me: Why are you at my apartment?  We agreed to meet at 8:30. (We didn't but she can take some of her own medicine.)

Her: Oh, we did? Hm. Oh well. Ok so I guess I'll see you at my house.

So she was remarkably cheerful about the whole thing, having gone out of her way to pick me up. She didn't call, she just came over. Weird. Anyway, she caught up to me while I was at a red light, and she waves. I see another woman with her in the car, and wondered why she brought backup. We get to her house, and it turns out that she and this other woman (who ironically went to the same high school as me and knows my brother) had been at a gig earlier and just on a whim decided to pick me up since they'd pass my place on the way to hers. (Nice gesture, but maybe call first!)

We get to her house around 8:30, and of course my friend is in full swing of ordering everyone around. We were forcefed carrot cake, bread, cucumber salad (with way too much salt, may I add) and some kind of juice she brought home from Hungary. Then she is yelling at her husband to hurry up and get the recording equipment ready. (It was already set up when we walked into the door.) She says "Let's hurry please, Erin go sit at the piano. Cherry, go eat more cake until your car is here." Then she says, "I just go to pee, I be right back soon and we start. Cherry are you eating the cake?" She disappears for about ten minutes then reappears in different clothes with wet hair. "Oh I just needed a quick shower, can we hurry please? We are very behind schedule. Cherry where is your ride?" Cherry asks if she could get her check and my friend says of course, here you are, but manages to find something else to do everytime she reaches for her checkbook. It's astounding: I've never seen anyone so sucessfully deflect requests and expedite her own will while managing to make other feel slightly guilty about it. Anyway, finally she writes the girl her check (literally ten minutes passed before she managed to finish writing it) and just then her ride appeared.

What time did we begin recording? 9pm. Actually, we checked sound levels first, adjusted mics and stuff, and just as we were about to begin for real, she decides she doesn't want to stand opposite me, but beside me. So we rearrange the set up and begin again with checking levels, etc. 9:15 we begin for real. We took the first break shortly before 11pm. My back was aching by then, and I'd recorded the same tunes dozens of times (she has very exacting standards, but rightly so as she's exceptionally well respected as a musician around here). She fed me more salt salad (that's tacky of me, it was just too salty for my taste) and bread. She says let's sit on the couch and watch an episode of 24 while we rest. I was already so sleepy, having been out late the previous night, and up early that morning, so as we were watching it I fell asleep. She wakes me up around 11:40 and says let's get started again. Can we hurry please? (LOL- it's her catch phrase. I swear I've heard her say "Can we hurry please" and more often than not, she's the cause of the delay.)

By this point my eyes are red, back is still aching, fingers are starting to be uncooperative. My brain started shutting down and I was missing chords and simple phrases right and left. I just melted down. It was embarassing because I'm a decent pianist, and this was easy work. I was just too damn tired. She pushed and pushed and pushed. At 12:30 we wrapped it up finally. We had laid down about 80 tracks. I think the last one we must have done about 7 times. I kept making really crappy mistakes- fingers got lazy and I'd hit a stray key. The worst one was when I'd FINALLY done a perfect run and on the very last stinking chord I ticked another key and dammit if I didn't play a D9 instead of a D. Crap. Retake. Anyway, we finished and she says, would you like to have a coffee? No thank you, I'll have it another time, I'm going home. She insisted I have coffee before driving. I said no thank you, goodnight, I'm fine and I left.

That's right! I managed to asseert myself and refuse her coffee! Sounds stupid but it was a small victory for me. Yay. Backbone slowly building up.

Tonight I will have sushi. Ahhhhhh :)

Oh, a very positive thing happened: I had been offered a library sciences intern position in London several months ago but refused it, and this morning I checked my email and saw that I had been asked if I was interested in something similar for the future. I am now checking visa reqs and looking into how much money I actually need if I were to successfully relocate. It wouldn't be until next summer but that's enough time to really get things in order, save money for it, sell my stuff I can't bring, etc. I'm so excited! I have wanted to live in London as long as I can remember, and if there's someone who's willing to find me a job and sponsor, I'm willing to give it a shot. My biggest concern: do I sell my piano or store it? I have a very nice piano, it's the one thing I said I'd never part with but if the sale of the piano can give me a whole new life, then maybe it's worth it. Although I think my mother would actually kill me twice if I sold it. It was my tenth birthday present. She always told me that it was something I could pass onto my children, but since I'm not having kids, I won't having anyone to pass it to. Why not use it to start over? Actually, I think I'd really regret selling it. I'll have to come up with another plan. See? This is why I write a blog. Laying things out on paper (ok, on screen) makes me better able to make smarter decisions and think more clearly.