Okay. Sooo... Plan B...

I’d start by declaring that I’ve been putting the “blah” in “blog” as of late, but I think it’s one of those things that only works when you say it out loud. But you get the idea—I haven’t updated in a while. And it’s not for lack of news, either... just lack of time, and occasionally ambition. Regardless, here’s the rub:

I have officially heard from all grad schools, and have found the financial awards given to me to be somewhat lacking. I try to remind myself that in the grand scheme of things, I did quite well... I got into some good schools, and even got some scholarship money from them. I just didn’t get quite enough. And it’s tough to justify going into massive debt to acquire a degree that does not directly qualify me to do anything. So it’s looking like grad school is pretty much out for next year.

Which kind of leaves me in the lurch. What am I doing for the next year? What am I doing long-term? These (the short-term problem in the long-term problem) are things I must consider.

I have the option of staying in Buffalo and working in a permanent position for the bank that currently employs my services as a contract worker. The primary benefits of this approach are as follows, in no specific order: (1) salary (2) benefits. These are important, and while I’m sure I will not be making all that much, whatever they offer me has got to be better than $11/hour.

I have mixed feelings about staying in Buffalo for (at least) another year. First of all, my living situation will complify significantly in July, when my roommate moves out to get married. This will force me to either pony up the full amount of rent myself (slightly more than double what I am currently paying), or get a new roommate. The thing of it is, I don’t really WANT a roommate. I don’t, exactly, have one now—she mostly lives with her boyfriend. She’s more of a rent sponsor, who, in return for money, is allowed to use the apartment as her personal storage unit. Also, when she leaves, she will take with her all her stuff, some of which I utilize (see: dishes, pots, coffee table) or enjoy (see: giant picture over fireplace, decorative pottery) on a regular basis. I know I can purchase my own pottery, if need be; I hear they have entire barns devoted to this. But the real problem is the prospect of living with another person who is actually present, and this, I will confess, is less than pleasing. So perhaps I will have to move out? I have no idea. What a conundrum.

Also, I was kind of looking forward to summer in Philadelphia. I like summers there; I’ve had some good ones. It’s a nostalgic thing now. Summer in Philadelphia feels more like home than summer in Buffalo, by far, regardless of how many hip art festivals happen almost directly in front of my Buffalo house. Also, air conditioning, which my parents have, would be a nice. And of course, my parents have decided to put in a pool, which I could utilize were I living at home for a spell. I will save my “why do they install a pool as soon as I leave” rant for another time. But Matt, I suspect that you might be able to empathize with me somewhat on the pool front, right? Dang. That’s all I’m saying.

Apart from staying in Buffalo, near-term options I have considered include: finding a job in the music business in New York. If I have a long-term future in business, it would very likely be in the music business, and by getting an entry-level job now I could sort of try it on to see how it fits. You know, before I’m a real, actual adult. But my future in business is predicated on a big if: is it really something I want to do? I like certain things about business: the illusion of job security, the money, and... okay I guess that’s it. Just those things. And if working in music business were close enough to music to make me feel like some inner artistic part of me is occasionally being employed, well, that might just work out fine in the long run, too.

But should I give up on the film scoring idea all together? It could take upwards of 10 years to get established to the point where you could make a living at it. Do I really want to be pushing 40 without a real career? Yikes.

Another long-term option I’ve considered is teaching. I’ve always been too musically diverse for my own good... I play too many instruments and write in too many styles, and wouldn’t be happy picking only one and focusing on that to the exclusion of the others. The many facets that make choosing my musical path difficult would actually serve me well as a teacher. The upsides to this include doing actual hands-on music stuff, adherence to an academic calendar (summers off!), and the presence of resident ensembles that I could force to play my stuff. Also, there is a market for educational ensemble music, and it’d be sweet to tap into that. The downsides, however, include the less-than-stellar pay and job availability.

I can picture myself teaching at the college level down the road somewhat... I think I’d like the professor’s life. College towns, smart people... the problem is what to teach? I’m not sure I have the singular love of classical music that would be necessary to teach composition. Plus I really don’t want to have to teach music history, and at all but the largest conservatories, composition professors usually have to pull double (or triple) duty. My favored route to college right now is to do the high school thing, and then hope I get picked up as the director of bands at some smallish liberal arts school. But even that’s a crapshoot, and is a rather indirect way of doing things. Plus I have no teaching experience whatsoever.

Right.

Perhaps non-profit music business? End up in a conservatory somewhere, the oft-mocked Associate Dean (Hello, Dean!)? Or perhaps in the office of a struggling orchestra in some major American city?

So many options. So, so many.

Hannah, I believe, said something about wishing she could choose between only three careers, as it would make the decision much less difficult. I wholeheartedly concur.

The devil, as they say, is in the details.

And by the way, I recently experienced a little incident that should cast doubt upon the entire admissions process. In January I received a letter from University of Wisconsin – Madison that denied my request for an interview (interviews are pretty much required for composition majors). This basically means that I rejected. That’s how it works... if you don’t get invited for an interview, you’re out of the running. Lots of schools do it. I distinctly recall logging back into my FAFSA account and deleting UW from my list, so I wouldn’t have to deal with extra paperwork for a school that had already rejected me.

Then, on Monday, I got a letter fro UW-M congratulating me on my acceptance into the composition program. So what gives? I called the admissions office and emailed the chair of the comp department. Both seemed surprised by the sequence of events I described. The comp chair asked who signed the letter. Problem is, I think I chucked it. It was bad for my morale. I still had all those interviews to do! Why would I hold on to a rejection letter?! Acceptance letters—sure, keep them. But rejection? No need. If you’re out you’re out.

This, I feel, will weaken my story significantly. And since I didn’t apply for financial aid, there’s REALLY no way I can afford to go there. I foresaw no circumstances under which it would be beneficial to retain a rejection letter for upwards of three months from the date of its receipt. And for this, a school I wanted to go to will in all likelihood be crossed off my list.

I throw my hands up in frustration, my friends. IN FRUSTRATION.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Let me start my explaining that my job has become very busy and stressful as of late, and what with all the typing I do at the office, I don’t really want to come home and type more. Hence, dramatically reduced blog output.

Not much truly important has happened in the past few weeks. Still waiting to hear from a couple grad schools, which just happen to be the ones I would most like to attend. This, clearly, is getting the best of me, and I have the anxiety dreams to prove it. Dreams that, by the way, I remember... and I never remember my dreams. What’s up with that?

I have joined a gym, in spite of a bait-and-switch signup issue where I was told a blatant lie about available plans so that I would spend more money than I had to. (I have since re-negotiated my membership terms to be more favorable, monetarily and otherwise, to me). Let me ask you this: when ya’ll work out (which I’m sure some of you do), do people just strut about naked in the locker room? I mean, okay, I know it’s a locker room, and I suppose if there’s a semi-public place where it is socially acceptable to strut naked, that would be it. But there’s a suspicious level of enjoyment there, as evidenced by the circuitous, meandering routes taken from locker to shower or scale. I know, I know, all that “naked is natural” stuff. Don’t get me wrong, I like nakedness, in some contexts, as much as the next guy. But the locker room is not a nudist enclave, nor is it the privacy of one’s own home. And Old Guy, you have been walking around this three-room suite for upwards of five minutes, so how is it that you have not yet reached your destination? Sink? Right there. Shower to the left. Lockers behind you. If you’re in it for the exercise, fella, there are treadmills upstairs. Put on some clothes. Dang.

Not unlike the salesman at the gym, the weather here has also been blatantly disingenuous. Seventy degrees and sunny! It’s springtime! Flowers and birds! Go to sleep, Buffalo, for tomorrow will be another beautiful day. What’s that? You don’t want snow anymore? Fine, have sleet. And wind. Cold. You put your snowbrush away, didn’t you? You’ll be using your ungloved fingers today, my friend. And flowers? I’d like you to meet my friend heavy frost. He will kill you.

And so it is that I put the fleece lining back into my winter coat. A seasoned Buffalonian, I knew the warm weather wasn’t really here to stay, but I thought we were done with daytime highs below 35 degrees. Wrong-o.

Closing thoughts: I should hire some goons to muscle information out of NYU and Syracuse.

Over and out.