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Todd took me to look at pianos last night.
This was after I showed up at his place, ready to go out to dinner, and found him in his kitchen, cooking for us. He's more willing to cook than I am (maybe because I'm not very good at it), but I never have a problem helping him in the kitchen. It's funny: when we're out to eat, I'm typically the one with the exotic palate and I'll order the strangest thing off the menu; when we're cooking at home, Todd has the ability to come up with the most incredible and never-would-have-thought-to-put-it-together recipes.
Anyway. Pianos. There's a shop in town that's just full of the things: baby grands, uprights, grands, concerts, midikeyboards. Todd knows that I've got a soft spot in my heart (and my loins) for anything with eighty-eight keys, so he took me over there for a visual feast. We sat down at a 9' Yamaha CFIIIS Concert Grand and Todd played for me while I listened and stroked the keys.
As we were leaving, the proprietor of the shop (who had apparently noticed my zeal for pianos), asked how long I'd been playing. "Never," I said, "I've never had a lesson in my life. I just love the look and sound of them." He then began to quiz me: How many keys does a piano have? Eighty-eight. How many white keys? Fifty-two. How many black keys? Thirty-six. What're the lowest and highest notes? 'A' and 'C'. If I'm ever at a cocktail party with you, feel free to ask me about my piano aptitude. Todd'll back me up.
God, I've got so much to do this week. I need to make at least three seperate trips to the post office. And I need to write my Statement of Purpose letter for grad school because I got my GRE scores back and I kicked ass. I've asked three very wonderful people/mentors to write me letters of recommendation and all three have been more than willing to do so. My undergrad transcript arrived yesterday so, by midweek, I should have all the elements in place to apply. It's really happening. I'm really doing it. I'm going to graduate school.
I'm so happy, so lucky, and so blessed.
This was after I showed up at his place, ready to go out to dinner, and found him in his kitchen, cooking for us. He's more willing to cook than I am (maybe because I'm not very good at it), but I never have a problem helping him in the kitchen. It's funny: when we're out to eat, I'm typically the one with the exotic palate and I'll order the strangest thing off the menu; when we're cooking at home, Todd has the ability to come up with the most incredible and never-would-have-thought-to-put-it-together recipes.
Anyway. Pianos. There's a shop in town that's just full of the things: baby grands, uprights, grands, concerts, midikeyboards. Todd knows that I've got a soft spot in my heart (and my loins) for anything with eighty-eight keys, so he took me over there for a visual feast. We sat down at a 9' Yamaha CFIIIS Concert Grand and Todd played for me while I listened and stroked the keys.
As we were leaving, the proprietor of the shop (who had apparently noticed my zeal for pianos), asked how long I'd been playing. "Never," I said, "I've never had a lesson in my life. I just love the look and sound of them." He then began to quiz me: How many keys does a piano have? Eighty-eight. How many white keys? Fifty-two. How many black keys? Thirty-six. What're the lowest and highest notes? 'A' and 'C'. If I'm ever at a cocktail party with you, feel free to ask me about my piano aptitude. Todd'll back me up.
God, I've got so much to do this week. I need to make at least three seperate trips to the post office. And I need to write my Statement of Purpose letter for grad school because I got my GRE scores back and I kicked ass. I've asked three very wonderful people/mentors to write me letters of recommendation and all three have been more than willing to do so. My undergrad transcript arrived yesterday so, by midweek, I should have all the elements in place to apply. It's really happening. I'm really doing it. I'm going to graduate school.
I'm so happy, so lucky, and so blessed.
