Tales of Woe.

A week ago, the internet in my flat decided to stop working. And our service provider is of no help, but what is new with the English! It also doesn't help that I think the modem is the router, that I don't know which cables fit into which holes, and whether or not the little green lights should be blinking.

This is when I consider marrying an engineer so I will have 24 hour technical support for the rest of my life.

To complicate matters, when I tried logging on at the Academy's computer lab, I realized that I use the computers so infrequently that I had forgotten my password. To retrieve my forgotten password, I simply needed to enter my Academy email address. Which I don't know. Finally, I figured out how to change my password altogether, and will most likely change my password each time since I keep forgetting my password. If you think I'm bad, compared to some other musicians I'm a technical whiz. Fancy that!

On another note, the Italians have an old belief that it is a blessing to have a pigeon poop on your head. I received such a blessing the other day in Regent's Park. This blessing better come in the form of solid performances in concert, because being pooped on is really horrifying.

I have a string of performances coming up, and the pressure is most definitely on. First up, De Falla's Spanish Dances. Originally written for voice and piano, I'll be playing them with a cellist. Wish me luck!