Update

I came home to South Texas on May 6th, after a practically comical morning on the airplane. The flight from Lubbock to Dallas was quite full and the ladies at the gate were initially wary of my arm size (they were emphatic it was not about my weight) and the general feeling of discomfort (what one of them termed the “touchy feely”) that someone sitting next to me might encounter. I have never had this problem before, as flying is a relatively new experience to me, and I have never had to ever worry about such a thing. But I now understand the relative trouble a person of size might have to experience, probably far worse than I ever had it. But then again, I saw average people have trouble fitting into airline seats, as well as those other people not asked to buy a second seat as I was asked. This was one of those little contingencies that happen. My friends have not stopped making fun of me for it.

The flight itself was agreeable. The morning in Lubbock had been cloudy and dismal and foggy, very much like what I had arrived to when I first came to Lubbock all those months ago, back in January. So it seemed like a fitting end to my first semester in Lubbock. To my knowledge, I passed all my classes, excepting the one Personal Financial Planning course, from which I withdrew because it is a useless and stupid course, and too expensive withal, and definitely a big mistake on my part for even choosing to involve myself with all the money. The atmosphere in that classroom was particularly tense and somewhat full of revulsion, as the current economic crisis seemed only to underscore the futility, experienced on the part by some of my younger colleagues, to save for a future now all but blasted by their parents’ greediness and disillusion. But on the whole the instructor was friendly and had a most agreeable comportment, and in the future I might take more classes, as time and interest permits.

Dann is now gone. He left about two or three days ago, by my reckoning, just as the rain was beginning to fall the way it does this time of year, in the warm and hazy afternoon. He sent me a short text message saying that he hadn’t seen anything in his in folder outside his office (meaning the gift book I bought him as a parting gift), and wishing me a good summer. I am pretty confident in the future I will be able to see him again in Connecticut, where he will be for some time now. He was a good teacher to me and he has been such a good friend. I only hope now that I can continue to apply what I have learned to future endeavours and my own personal and artistic progression.

As for everyone else–on campus, that is–I met with Dr. Jocoy for a bit just before I left and made plans that upon my return in the fall I would pursue a course in independent studies in musicology with her, with a focus on “non-western Baroque”, or, more credibly, Baroque music in Latin America. What I do not wish to do is to conduct research on music already present in the musicological record; what I am looking for is discovering new music and writing about it. I am looking at two very distinct musicological fields–research and analysis. There has been much written about Latin American traditions of the Baroque in colonial New Spain, in particular that in Mesoamerica, but little has been written about music from specific areas of that part of the world (I am looking at Afro-Hispanic music from Veracruz, Oaxaca, Michoacán) and mission music from early Alta California (modern day Southern California), and native syncretism with Baroque elements (such as the oft-written connection with Baroque violin techinque and the development of folk music). I am expecting, hopefully, to be able to introduce possibly playable music that has never been heard or played before, or, even more hopefully, to produce a body of work that will be the first work written about a musical subject in the record.

I have finally returned to Calendar studies after a time away researching folkloristics and culturally bound illnesses. The latter culminated in something of a renascence of an interest in traditional folk medicine and healing, and I hope by 2012 to have at least a primer for medical professionals in dealing with an increasing problem among non-English speakers in dealing with real medical problems simply labelled as a culturally bound syndrome. What I am now interested is not so much computus as martyrologies, particularly the doubtful ones (I am called to think of Sts. Barlaam and Josaphat, simply a coverup for a story about the Buddha and his disciple). I hope I can conduct more research into that field as well, which will probaby include getting a copy of Butler’s Lives, which is probably the most substantive book about the saints ever compiled, but which I have never been able to afford. With all of these things I hope I can gain a clearer understanding of the nature of cultural intelligence.

Toward the end of the semester, there were contingencies that have now presented some very interesting situations. For one, I know have a $264.00 bill for food, the result of running out of “dining bucks” for my meal plan (already flawed enough as it is), which has prevented me from registering for fall classes and getting my grades. The good news is I can go back anytime I want to, so things will definitely be looking for me in the long run. I do hope this summer passes by quickly, as I cannot even begin to think about staying down here. I love my education and want to continue it, and now I am just beginning to taste the success that awaits me.

I am not sure of where my life will take me now. However, this is the happiest I think I have ever been, and I hope now that I have some serious considerations for a life-encompassing passion that I think I can claim as my own. What will happen now is anyone’s guess. But I do hope that I can keep on physically, morally, psychologically, spiritually and educationally growing. I just hope everything works out for me.

South Texas has not changed. It is still the perennially tropical, mosquito ridden paradise it has always been. Arriving at the terminal in the fullest of the afternoon sunlight I was hit pratically in the face by the hot humid air of home. Paul and his girlfriend CJ were practically unrecognizeable. Paul is now heavier than he has ever been, overweight by some 60 or 70 pounds and unable to close the zipper on pants that are twice too small for him; CJ is dumpy and pockmarked, her dark hair stringy and crinkled from a life of abuse. When Mother got home she hugged me, though I could tell from her eyes she is tired and weary of her situation. I cried when I said she looked so and told her I missed her for the short time I was away from home. To celebrate, she went down to the bakery and fetched some sweet bread for us, and we all sat down and she informed me of the recent developments at the house. For one, CJ has come into a sizeable amount of income resulting from a structured settlement she will be recieving upon completion of her 17th year–the sum of which is an estimated $21,000. This means that she and Paul will be moving hence from the house we all live in, and perhaps giving to my mother some $1200 for the fees incurred from her coming to live here after the terrible hurricane we experienced summer last, and that we all will therefore move from that house–them to their own, my mother and I to a new residence–hopefully very soon. This news, however tentative, comes as welcome news to us, who are now having to contend with a house falling apart from the years of decay and weathering it has had from its very shoddy construction, relatives who do not approve of the current living situation (my own return from college included) and a host of other financial and situational problems stemming from my brother’s arrest and detention last year, which all of us are frankly tired of.

I miss all my friends. I never get tired of thinking about them and do miss being able to talk to them. However I think at the same time after all the trouble I had with making new friends this past semester and all the terrible choices I made in making those friends, a break from social interaction and its perils is most welcome after a season of highs and lows. I talk to a few people now on the telephone, in particular Jeff, and my friend Frank, and my ex-boyfriend Ryan, who is always busy now, working for American Airlines. I think things will be much better friend-wise now that I have cut off the majority of a friend base wholly unattractive to me. I am glad to be rid of them all, and the distractions they sometimes offer.