Musings

 It's my 29th  birthday. I just started grad school, pursuing my Master of Music in Vocal Performance and Pedagogy. I have a panic attack every night, and I think a bunch of the undergraduate singers are better than me. MONEY! TIME! WASTED? God, it's overwhelming. I'll spend 5 hours in the office today for my graduate assistant duties, which is a lot, but I couldn't pay for school without it, so there we go. This is even before I get to classes, rehearsal, individual practice, and homework. Happy birthay, you whiny, priveleged whelp. This is the dream and you're complaining your way through it. But yeah, I'm baby, and I'm overwhelmed. Two years ago I used quitmormon.com to remove my records from the church (cult?) I grew up in, and I couldn't recommend them enough, by the way. Two tattoos, two extra piercings, and dyed my blonde hair away, and now I'm not even visually associated with them. Internally I'll always bear the scars. My brain is wired...