Today.

I had to share because I'm beyond emotion right now.

A few of you know that I'm studying the viola at university and I've had a shitty year of it. I started to see that I might not be able to finish my degree here, so back in January, I thought I'd apply to another university - just in case everything went to hell and I needed a way out - since applications are due in January.

So the day I left to drive 2400kms I found out that one of my favourite profs would not be returning next year, the cello prof. I already knew that my teacher, the reason I'm here, the violin prof, would not be here in my graduating year. Driving across the country for the next 22 hours, my pianist with me, the only thing I could think of was "holy shit I need to make a good impression and I hope I like the teacher there."

I fell in love with the school, the city, the people, the teacher, everything. This teacher could help me do so much since she's active in what I want to do with my career. The catch was: They only had room to accept one new violist for next year.

On the drive back, my best friend/pianist/gay husband told me he made a decision to move out there. So I decided to go too, even if I didn't get accepted because I'm just wasting my money here.

Waiting, waiting, waiting.

If I got accepted, I'd need to audition again next September to get into the performance program. Since I'm in Europe this summer, I need to start learning the pieces now with my pianist, so I emailed the teacher asking, hypothetically speaking, what I would need to learn if I got in.

She responded within a couple of minutes with more than I asked for. I didn't want to pressure her into telling me whether I was in or not, but she told me anyway.

That one lucky new violist to be studying with her next fall is me.



On another happy note, after the shittiest performance year ever, I had my farewell recital on the 23rd and it went way better than I thought it ever could.