22 November 2003

Friday Five
(Yes, we made it back from Newport alive. Somehow we managed to get a bus and get the harp inside the bus. I may put the picture up on the other website if it turns out.)


1. List five things you'd like to accomplish by the end of the year.

1. Make it through my jury alive.
2. Get no exam grades lower than a B.
3. Actually get around to telling my parents that I have a boyfriend, instead of hinting at like crazy.
4. Not get sick again this year.
5. Learn one more chant Mass setting.

2. List five people you've lost contact with that you'd like to hear from again.

1. Colin McDonald, my good friend and "twin" from kindergarten.
2. Sharon Olson, children's choir director.
3. My fourth grade teacher.
4. Mr. Wright, now Br. Shawn, who was my literature teacher in sixth grade (he now resides in a monastery in Oregon and makes fudge).
5. Clare, nutty artist/general genius friend from high school who never replied to my letters.

3. List five things you'd like to learn how to do.

1. Accompany Irish tunes on the harp.
2. Write a piece of music using a whole-tone scale.
3. Play a reel on the tin whistle at actual dance-speed.
4. Contemplative prayer.
5. Jitterbug.

4. List five things you'd do if you won the lottery (no limit).

1. Force Gonzaga to build a performing arts center before I graduate.
2. Buy a piece of property for my alma mater and make sure they have a good arts program in perpetuity.
3. Buy antiques, especially instruments and rare books.
4. Build a colonial-style mansion with a music room and library in which to put the antique instruments and rare books.
5. Help undo a 1970's renovation of a Catholic parish church, install a huge pipe organ, and donate money for decent artwork and decently-paid musicians.

5. List five things you do that help you relax.

1. Praying.
2. Listening to/playing/singing/dancing to music.
3. Laughing with Lizzy.
4. Hugging Gavin.
5. Wrapping up in my shawl, reading fiction, with a cup of tea and a plate of my dad's oatmeal-raisin-banana cookies. (Everyone wonders why he always sends the same kind of cookies. They don't get that it's a special me-and-dad thing.)

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