FIRST of all I hope you all had a t'rrific st. patty's. Mine mostly sucked but more on that dramedy of errors in a bit.
SECOND... I'd just like to rant for a wee bit about my job. I am a tenor section leader in the choir at First United Methodist Church in downtown fort worth (the pretty one with two steeples). First gripe is that the rest of the tenors, including the other section leader, seem to have no BALLS. They shrink behind me and tremble like shy children hiding from a stranger when they are asked how old they are do. If I stop singing, they all wimp out and stop at least 75% of the time. I miss a note, they follow me. It's really infuriating.
But today something else is on my mind... two people. Both of them in the choir. Both of them ridiculous morons. First is the female tenor (she's not a tenor, she can't sing the low ones, she just wants to be a tenor for reasons I don't want to contemplate). I have always believed that anyone can learn to read music except the 2% or so of the population who are actually completely tone deaf. She's not tone deaf. But she doesn't try to learn to read music. Or look at it. Or figure out which part is the tenor part and which isn't. She seems to just follow anyone she happens to hear... and never wonders why the tenor part for the same song changes each time. That's bad enough. BUT...
Story time.
Flash back to a year ago, my birthday, July 31, 2006. Ok more than a year but stfu. Lisa shows up for choir with something I'd been dreading... a tin. She walks up to... well the proper prepositional phrase would be "in between" my mother and I, who were talking, and says: "*I* baked you a cake." Looks right at my mother when she says this. Mom hadn't made a cake yet, because she always cooks it for me while I'm at home. It's tradition and we were in fact talking about which cake I wanted when this bitch stuck her schnoz on in. So she is trying to insinuate that my mother is a bad mother because there's no cake there. This is something I can not and will not tolerate. And did not. "Put it over there," I said in not a very nice voice. But her idiocy is stubborn. "It's fer you." "I have one, give it to the choir." So she stumps off and grumbles something moronic.
After that day's service (yeah i had to work on my damn birthday) she decides she's not done sparing me to death. She comes up to me and shows me a service bulletin. she points at the top, where she has written "july 31- chris b-day." See? I wrote it down so I'd remember. This would be sweet if a little weird... if I hadn't looked at the date. July 31, 2006. It was that week's bulletin. I told her so. More stumping and mumbling and stupidity.
She STILL wasn't finished though, fuck no. She goes up to my mom and starts telling her WHAT SHE SHOULD DO FOR MY BIRTHDAY. And mom says "I am his mother, I know what to do. Just please don't bother us anymore." And something else nice-ish probably. Then lisa says something I hate. "I'm praying for Chris."
Mom went nuts and made my birthday. Yelled at that dumb biatch till she just left and took her shitty cake with her.
Another time, I was playing piano in the service and singing, for the "special anthem." I was performing "Imagine," by John Lennon. I wore a nice shirt, untucked w/ the sleeves rolled up, and nice slacks and shoes. Formal yet casual enough to play a song written by a hippie. If I played it in a tuxedo it would sound and look false. Lisa later tells several people I'm "an embarrassment" with the "way I dress."
I could go on but even I'm getting tired-head.
Then there's the bass who knows everything about everyone's business but his. He knows exactly how I should do my job and tells me. And tells me. And provokes me. And then I snap and tell him "How about the one of us who is in college for music and gets paid to sing here does my job?" And today..... oooooooooooh today.
I have a massive headache. Yesterday was st. patty's for God's sake. So during the sermon I close my eyes and try not to hurl. He, thinking I'm sleeping apparently, POKES ME IN THE RIBS WITH HIS BONY-ASS ELBOW and even has the blatant lack of brains to "psst" me. I gave him a look that would scare Jesus. He poked me again a minute later. I elbowed him back w/o opening my eyes. A THIRD TIME he pokes me and I leaned over (a chore since he has the worst breath you can imagine) and very calmly whispered into his ear, "Never poke me again."
There are countless other times I've faced off with these two. They've run many people, my father included, out of the choir. And I've coped for a couple years with their bullshit but now, just now, I've decided I'm not going to anymore. I'm telling my conductor that he needs to do something about them because if they provoke me much more he might have to fire me.
I'll tell you later why last night sucked balls. A teaser though: I didn't even get to get drunk.
laters all
SECOND... I'd just like to rant for a wee bit about my job. I am a tenor section leader in the choir at First United Methodist Church in downtown fort worth (the pretty one with two steeples). First gripe is that the rest of the tenors, including the other section leader, seem to have no BALLS. They shrink behind me and tremble like shy children hiding from a stranger when they are asked how old they are do. If I stop singing, they all wimp out and stop at least 75% of the time. I miss a note, they follow me. It's really infuriating.
But today something else is on my mind... two people. Both of them in the choir. Both of them ridiculous morons. First is the female tenor (she's not a tenor, she can't sing the low ones, she just wants to be a tenor for reasons I don't want to contemplate). I have always believed that anyone can learn to read music except the 2% or so of the population who are actually completely tone deaf. She's not tone deaf. But she doesn't try to learn to read music. Or look at it. Or figure out which part is the tenor part and which isn't. She seems to just follow anyone she happens to hear... and never wonders why the tenor part for the same song changes each time. That's bad enough. BUT...
Story time.
Flash back to a year ago, my birthday, July 31, 2006. Ok more than a year but stfu. Lisa shows up for choir with something I'd been dreading... a tin. She walks up to... well the proper prepositional phrase would be "in between" my mother and I, who were talking, and says: "*I* baked you a cake." Looks right at my mother when she says this. Mom hadn't made a cake yet, because she always cooks it for me while I'm at home. It's tradition and we were in fact talking about which cake I wanted when this bitch stuck her schnoz on in. So she is trying to insinuate that my mother is a bad mother because there's no cake there. This is something I can not and will not tolerate. And did not. "Put it over there," I said in not a very nice voice. But her idiocy is stubborn. "It's fer you." "I have one, give it to the choir." So she stumps off and grumbles something moronic.
After that day's service (yeah i had to work on my damn birthday) she decides she's not done sparing me to death. She comes up to me and shows me a service bulletin. she points at the top, where she has written "july 31- chris b-day." See? I wrote it down so I'd remember. This would be sweet if a little weird... if I hadn't looked at the date. July 31, 2006. It was that week's bulletin. I told her so. More stumping and mumbling and stupidity.
She STILL wasn't finished though, fuck no. She goes up to my mom and starts telling her WHAT SHE SHOULD DO FOR MY BIRTHDAY. And mom says "I am his mother, I know what to do. Just please don't bother us anymore." And something else nice-ish probably. Then lisa says something I hate. "I'm praying for Chris."
Mom went nuts and made my birthday. Yelled at that dumb biatch till she just left and took her shitty cake with her.
Another time, I was playing piano in the service and singing, for the "special anthem." I was performing "Imagine," by John Lennon. I wore a nice shirt, untucked w/ the sleeves rolled up, and nice slacks and shoes. Formal yet casual enough to play a song written by a hippie. If I played it in a tuxedo it would sound and look false. Lisa later tells several people I'm "an embarrassment" with the "way I dress."
I could go on but even I'm getting tired-head.
Then there's the bass who knows everything about everyone's business but his. He knows exactly how I should do my job and tells me. And tells me. And provokes me. And then I snap and tell him "How about the one of us who is in college for music and gets paid to sing here does my job?" And today..... oooooooooooh today.
I have a massive headache. Yesterday was st. patty's for God's sake. So during the sermon I close my eyes and try not to hurl. He, thinking I'm sleeping apparently, POKES ME IN THE RIBS WITH HIS BONY-ASS ELBOW and even has the blatant lack of brains to "psst" me. I gave him a look that would scare Jesus. He poked me again a minute later. I elbowed him back w/o opening my eyes. A THIRD TIME he pokes me and I leaned over (a chore since he has the worst breath you can imagine) and very calmly whispered into his ear, "Never poke me again."
There are countless other times I've faced off with these two. They've run many people, my father included, out of the choir. And I've coped for a couple years with their bullshit but now, just now, I've decided I'm not going to anymore. I'm telling my conductor that he needs to do something about them because if they provoke me much more he might have to fire me.
I'll tell you later why last night sucked balls. A teaser though: I didn't even get to get drunk.
laters all