And the other post!

It was a few moments after my rambling on the first blog entry that I realized that I am also taking piano lessons and forgot to mention them. It's kind of sad since it's what I'm doing best at right now. My piano teacher is a really awesome and talented guy and obviously he sees some talent in me as well. I played two songs by heart for my midterm and received 98%.

But there are the issues I've promised to elaborate on. First is my moving. I lived on my own for a year. Although Marie and I didn't always see eye to eye, I enjoyed living with her for the most part. It did bug me that she wasn't active, however. She is one of the smartest people I know and she doesn't have a job. And she doesn't go to school either. And she doesn't even volunteer. I wake up early to go to class or I wake up early to go to work. And she sleeps. On many occasions, I had gone to school or work and come back to find her still in bed. It irritated me.

Of course, I know she has struggled with her anxiety, but I can't accept that excuse as she's done nothing to try and get around it. I suffer from anxiety, too. My anxiety is really bad, too. I go on with life though. If I need to take a few minutes out to compose myself, so be it. When I cou;dn't stand sitting in my math class in grade 11, did I drop it? No. I asked the teacher if I could do my work elsewhere. I worked with my anxiety! And Sylvie has some of the worst anxiety I've ever seen. She's been able to hold down jobs and go to school. Kudos to her. But Marie won't do it. Eventually, it really bugged me that she didn't.

On top of that, I couldn't afford to live at the loft anymore. Music is fucking expensive! On top of tuition which is about 6k, there are all of these extras that need to be paid for. Symphony tickets, Metro-opera shows, LUMA concerts, piano books, vocal books, music and also, paying for an accompanist for all of my practices. Joy is great, but she's sucking me dry.

On top of moving out, I am also on a journey to quit smoking for real. My progress is retarded. I'll make an entire day and feel fine, then the next, I'm ravage. Or I'll smoke a lot during one day, then the next, I will hardly have a craving. It is making quitting difficult. I also try and reason with myself that would allow me to smoke. The way I see it, I have two voices arguing in my head. The smoking voice, let's call him Lucas. And then we have the non-smoking voice. Let's call him Bob.

Lucas is tall, handsome and quite articulate. He has on a nice flashy suit and his teeth are perfect and white. When he talks, I get excited over his deep masculine voice. Bob is short and squat with his belly hanging out of his wife-beater. He hasn't bathed in a few days and when he opens his mouth, a whiny higher pitched voice comes out. When Lucas and Bob battle it out, Lucas always has the upper hand. He's like a lawyer. He's skilled in manipulation, his rebuttal is always prepared. Furthermore, I want him to win. Then there's Bob. Whatever shit he's spewing, nobody, not even myself, wants to hearit. His voice is such a turn-off.

Lucas has convinced me: Smoking takes ten years off your life, but that's the end of your life which isn't fun anyways. He also tells me that I have my whole life to quit smoking. He also tells me that many of the world's greatest singers are smokers. Right. Bob tells me that I need to wheeze a little less. Bob also tells me that if I think quitting is hard now, it'll be harder when I cross the 5 year line, and the 10 year line.

One thing that I know is nice, though; It's nice to show up to my vocal lesson or choir without worrying that I smell like smoke.