This evening Jillian asked me if I remembered what happened two years ago today. Somehow it had totally escaped me. Two years ago, Trudy had a seizure. And then she had another one at the doctor’s office. And then another one in the ER. It was one of the scariest times of my life. It was the week before classes started. We were in the children’s ER in Miami, and I kept getting badgered by one of the admins at work about setting up the theory placement exam for auditioning students.
I started playing hockey again last year. I’m so grateful that Jillian encouraged me to start playing again when we moved back to Canada. It had been close to 20 years since I played any kind of organized hockey. I’d skated a few times over the years, but I can’t remember the last time I even owned skates. Thankfully, I learned to skate when I was 4 or 5 years old, and you don’t lose those skills (entirely, anyway).
This was going to be my “year in review” post, but I only have about 15 minutes to post this or I’ll break my first new year’s resolution on Day 1! Instead, I thought I would quickly write down the resolutions I’ve been thinking about. Lord knows I’m terrible at these, but maybe putting them out on the public web will hold me accountable (I have my doubts).
1. Write more.
I’ve seen countless takes on what happened two days ago. I don’t think that there is any singular answer regarding why things went the way they did: Economic anxiety, identity politics, economic anxiety leading to identity politics, blind partisanship, misogyny, the DNC fucking up their campaign, a poor choice of candidate; these factors all likely contributed in some capacity to the perfect storm for Trump. And it doesn’t really matter right now, anyway.
Today is a sad day. We are saying goodbye to our beautiful blind wonderpug, Prudence, who has been in our lives for nearly 10 years. Prudence was the rescue dog of all rescue dogs: picked up by Animal Control, sent to a kill shelter, saved by a pug rescue agency, and eventually adopted by us. We were poor, recently married grad students when we drove from Tallahassee to Fort Walton Beach to pick her up.
For the past few years I’ve complained about being unable to remember specific details of my life. When did we celebrate the new year by missing the countdown waiting for our check at that terrible Italian restaurant? And what restaurant was it? Where did we go for Christmas in 2008?
I think this is common. Or I have some kind of degenerative brain disease. Hopefully the former.
I started writing this post nearly two years ago.
In the summer of 2005, Jillian and I moved to Tallahassee, Florida, where we were both going to attend graduate school at Florida State University. Throughout my time there, I learned so much about music theory as a discipline, and academia as a career in general. One of the things I learned early on was that jobs were relatively scarce; certainly scarce enough that being picky about where you applied for jobs would most likely leave you unemployed.
One great thing about living in Miami is the presence of the Florida Panthers. Don’t get me wrong–it’s patently absurd that there is a professional hockey team in South Florida. But as a transplanted, die-hard hockey fan, I have grown to appreciate that the Panthers’ desperate attempts to draw fans to their games means that I get to see my beloved Maple Leafs for a fraction of the cost of a ticket at the ACC in Toronto.
This is going to be hard. Having been a loyal Facebook user since 2005, I’ve decided to part ways with, or at least ignore, what has become one of my strongest and most consistent connections to my extended group of friends and family. Although I cherish the countless inspiring, hilarious, and otherwise absurd interactions I’ve had on Facebook over the years, it has come to a point where it seems that I can no longer regulate my own participation in an ever-widening social web that seems to be spiraling out of control.
Hello, and welcome to yet another rendition of a blog brought to you by Bryn Hughes. I’m already cringing at the predictible opening apology that begins this and so many other restarted blogs (“No, really, this time, FOR SURE!”). I’ve tried this several times over the years; some times more successful than others; and hopefully this time it will stick. As Count Basie used to say, “let’s hear it one more, once!