Wedded at 25

SuperMuso

One of the many things I love about being a musician is never being alone. In my childhood, I remember waking up in the middle of the night, fearful and feverish. What do I do to comfort myself? Sing Alan Menken of course. As I'm "ah ah ah ing" myself back to sleep (you know that bit in Little Mermaid where Ariel gives her voice to Ursula), I found an odd satisfaction. There is something to say for music therapy, and I must admit, If I Only Had a Brain...

This morning was no different. I woke up at 5am (even earlier because the damn clocks turned back at 2am), and had to keep myself company as no one else was awake. I reflected over my high school self, the one that speculated getting married at 25 (because 27 seemed way too old), and then I began singing Que Sera Sera - Will I Be Pretty, Will I Be Rich?.... I laughed to myself because of the irony that I am neither.

Once upon a time, I wanted to change my performer name to be more gripping than plain and drab Sally Horton. After much pondering and discourse with friends, I stuck with it. There are some names out there that have a natural allure to them; so what? My name doesn't make me. I make people remember mine because I am me, and me is memorable regardless of what I'm called. Like, think of Ham. It's a boring word, but then someone like Dr. Seuss makes it a crucial part of an awesome book. Or better yet, think of Horton. The same Doctor made Horton into a sensitive, loveable elephant. I'm happy with that.

In highschool (again with the reminiscing, I know), one of my friends commented that she thought the name Sally was the perfect emulation of who I was; bubbly goofy, playful, but old-school. I appreciated that. I was so stuck on the fact that I didn't suit my name at all, but it made me realise I am those things. Who you think you are is far from who you actually are, especially when you're a teenager. I thought I was some serious, independent, mature youth. What I really was was a delight. A Sally, you could say.

A Bit of Northampton Normalcy

I usually concoct these blogs by looking at photos of the past week, using them as a connect-the-dots type of aide. This week, I took very few photos, and of those 80% of them were selfies. How boring! I am happy to say, however, that I made it to the Northampton Museum. 

The second level of the museum is extremely creepy. Highly recommended! It truly is a "haunt" of a place. On a Sunday, there was me, the desk attendant, a father and child, an elderly couple and a wandering male. Talk about ignored art... The museum celebrates it's 150th anniversary as well, yet it is so ill-attended. Bizarre!

I was able to take this wonderful photo of a mysterious pair of size 21 nikes - they were misplaced outside a pub and despite many attempts to find the owner, they were never claimed. Pictured here with me and the original Kinky Boots. Yeah!!! The Kinky Boots that birthed The Musical composed by Cyndi Lauper.

I am sporting my rubber soled uggs. Hope that's fancy enough for this Shoe-seum!

Another highlight (especially for us dancers out there) was finding Margot Fonteyn's Freed pointes. This whole case was dedicated to performer shoes, used for different stage productions over the years.

Also, a new revelation made by yours truly. So many people have exclaimed how humanity is growing to be very unhealthy, with the average dress size increasing and the rate of obesity increasing, etc etc. But look! Look at these shoes from the 18th century. They are extremely thin. I would say that not only have we grown in weight, but surely our bone structure has developed and expanded over the years! Hell no are my feet this thin. These slippers are slightly surreal.

Are they even designed for human wear?!

I'm Not Okay with This

After my traipse in the city, I went to mass at Cathedral of Our Lady and St. Thomas of Canterbury. The church made me realise how this whole contract was meant to be. Our Lady of Lourdes was my parish church in Cardiff. St Thomas a Becket (aka St Thomas of Canterbury) was my parish church in Reston as well as in London. Doesn't it just make you think, "Gosh, out of all the Saints and combos?" Anyway, it made me think that at least. I had a bit of a hiccup about my perform-ability earlier in the week, so it was a good reminder. I'm here for reasons that are not always evident. Trust is necessary for progress.

Performance Ready

Our clients came specifically to see two of our shows before we board the ship. We had a "blast"... well... a blast of nerves to be performing full-out and for our bosses but I think it went pretty well. It was really good to get everything rolling and to realise how much we accomplished so far! Here's Sharifa and I after the show. I think it's safe to say I slept well that night. 

Return to this Morning

Remember when I said I woke up at 5? After laying in bed mindlessly for some time, I decided to visit this little park that I keep passing on my way to the groceries. I sauntered down this morning to have a bit of exercise, and as I explored, I sang of course. After doing a few leg lifts, squats, pushups, etc. I decided to run back to the entrance (an uphill journey) and was literally wheezing. I blame the cold morning air and the fog for interfering with my respiration. But perhaps I am very much out of shape! I left the house again at 9 to have a gander at the groceries but they don't open until 10. What is life?!?!

For the incessant earlybird, I guess it's safe to say I'm happy being a muso. Turns out I must keep myself company as well as occupied, and I will continue to sing to myself until Eight times Eight times Eight is Four, until the Day that is the Day that are No More... Now to find someone who appreciates that about me and is willing to marry within the next ten months...

Gotta keep those dreams alive!

LOLZA