So, January. This has been a month of staring at the wall interrupted by bursts of awesome california fun. So confusing.
Over MLK weekend, I made my first ever visit to LA, which might not actually count because I didn't set foot outside of San Pedro. The occasion was the All-Cal convention, and it turned into a veritable singing retreat. I drove down in a van with some other bay area singers and stayed in the hostel on site. And when I say hostel, I mean this:
It was rented out just for singers - the mattresses were wicked uncomfortable and as squeaky as they come, which was pretty much the best recipe for insomnia I can think of, but it was otherwise completely free of your regular hostel hassles. The convention was kind of a perfect storm of an amazing class, obscenely gorgeous weather in an obscenely gorgeous place, and low-key quality time with new and old singing friends from the west coast and beyond (notably - Texas invasion!) Good lord. If you haven't been to sing at Angel's Gate, I'm not sure what you're waiting for.
If this actually means anything to you, and you've somehow missed the all-cal spamming on the fasola list, youtube, etc, please enjoy the ultimate O'Leary experience:
As if that weren't enough, I got to catch up with freshly-moved other Rebecca on her birthday weekend. I totally owe her one for indulging me in the "I'm in town! By which I mean an hour away from you! With no transportation!" She came all the way to me, meeting me as the singing ended (Actually, it ran a bit late on Sunday, so juuuuuuuust in time for the announcements and the parting hand. You know, the best part of the weekend and the most fascinating for visitors! Yes.), armed with a file folder of local points of interest. I love all my lawyer friends.
Then it was back to real life, by which I mean back to being poor and unemployed. Cue
Next up, my dad + bay area bee-yooty.