Hella Stella

This is me in my fancy dressing room, which even had my name on the door. I was a nervous wreck so I took dumb pictures of my feet and my reflection. It passed the time. Eventually I noticed there was free beer, so that helped things along. You know me and free beer.



This is a blurry picture of me on the stage at the Museum of Civ. theatre. The theatre was huge. Much bigger than I was expecting, and it was sold out. I was (still) a nervous wreck for the first song, but got into my goove pretty quickly and even made fun of the lovely Stuart MacLean whilst on stage. Teasing people is the quickest way to calm me down, other than having a nice cup of tea. Stuart didn't seem to mind. He certainly seemed to enjoy my songs. He didn't really hear our sound check, so I think our live performance was the first time he really heard us play. He was so kind, and kept asking me to keep bowing because people were still clapping.

I think the audience liked it too. They hooted and everything. The sound was amazing in there, and my voice just kinda floated around like it was on a cloud. When you have a good sound guy, it doesn't matter what you do with your voice. Everything just sounds so damn yummy.

These are my boys joking around in the dressing room. Jeff was doing a little dance and Brian was playing some Chet Baker. I'm so happy I got to play with these two... They are some of my favourite people.

I guess you could say that the first night was a real success. I'm looking forward to tonight's show even more, because I have a better idea of what to expect. Unfortunately it's really hard to get out to talk to people after the show... The intermission is so short and they have to strike the stage at the end of the night. If I don't get to hug all of you in person, thanks in advance for coming out to support me! I promise not to talk about old balls on stage.

That's what the blog is for, after all.

Oh, and my laptop is fixed, a cool $270 later. That means y'all get to see some pictures again!

Wow, waking up this morning felt like Christmas.

I poked my BH and said, "Hey! Wake up! The first show is tomorrow!" He responded with a "bleuuuh..." but I know he meant "That's cool, babe."

Rehearsal today was great, and I feel really good about how we'll perform when the mics are running. Everything is in three-part harmony and the boys have their bass/guitar parts hammered out. I even have my outfits picked, which (let's be honest) is half the battle.*

Now it's just the waiting. I need to get through this evening and tomorrow morning without becoming a blubbering mess. When I'm actually setting up and singing, I'll have no choice but to calm down and do my job. It's the part before that I'm worried about.

I think I'll distract myself by cooking. I've already made a nice Macedonian salad, chocolate cookies and a strawberry rhubarb grunt (much yummier than it sounds), so maybe it's time to break out some garlic roasted potatoes and marinated trout.

And maybe I'll bake a cake too.

AND MAYBE BY TOMORROW I'LL BE THE SIZE OF A WALRUS.

But anyway. That's probably just the nerves talking.


*Tight hot pink skirt the first night, crazy green dress the second night. I'll be bringing the SEXY. Or at least that's the plan.

REHEARSAL

At rehearsal last night, the clickity clackity of the fan was driving us insane. Jeff put on his engineer hat and disassembled it, fiddled with the screws, adjusted the blades, and VOILA! A quiet, cool room for our practice. Yay for engineers!

Brian suggested near the end of the night that we have an extra song prepared. I don't think we're allowed an encore for this kind of show, since it's very structured and we're all following a script, but I agreed that having a backup song was a good idea. Even just something to play in sound check.

It took me about five seconds to decide to cover a Hawksley song. It remains to be seen whether or not this is a terrible idea, but I cover his music regularly, and I love him, and damnit, I'm going to play this song in sound check. He probably won't be in the room while we're checking anyways, but it will still make me happy to break it out. Because... Dudes? I still can't believe I'm playing this gig. I may as well enjoy myself while I'm there.

MR. JACKSON

I wasn't going to talk about Michael Jackson's death... Everyone in the world is talking about it, and my brain is already getting overloaded. Still, I feel the need to say something before I lay it to rest. Hearing about the death of a musician makes me especially sad - I tend to get extremely attached to people through their art, and music is at the top for me. It's such a personal thing. I cried like a baby when Nina Simone died. Same for Elliot Smith. But with Jackson, when I read the report last night, I gasped so strongly that my throat burned, and sad there dumbly until it sunk in

I grew up largely without a TV, so a lot of popular 80s goodness was lost on me. I still knew all about Michael Jackson, of course. I thought he was one smooth dude, and I remember trying to understand how a human could move like that. My Thriller album on vinyl was a personal favourite... Thankfully, I still have it. But his increasing weirdness over the past ten years made me forget how great he was. His name had become a joke. He became the creepy old guy parents warn their kids about. It was hard to remember the good.

All these tributes to him have reminded me that he was truly the king of pop. Probably a drug-addicted king with a serious mental health problem, but a king nonetheless. It seems very strange that he's gone.

Let me tell you something cheerful about this whole crisis. When I was walking to rehearsal last night after the news broke, I heard it. House after house with open windows, and they were all playing Michael Jackson. Some were blasting it. Some playing it quietly. His songs were floating out into the street and mingling there. I walked by one house in particular that was blasting Thriller, and one lone dude was dancing to it in his living room.

What a tribute. All of Centretown came alive last night. Thanks for that, Mr. Jackson.

UPDATE: Oh! Oh! Oh! Thank God!

As it turns out, rehearsing in this insane heat makes me play like an idiot, and sing like a drunk.

Yesterday's rehearsal was so wonky. We were all feeling out of it, and the room was baking us alive. I'm a big fan of the heat... But I don't like what it does to my band practice. Halfway through, the fan started clicking like a crazed bird, and we couldn't shut it off.

Today I really did get a vacation - no rehearsal, no office, no nothing. My BH had his first day of summer classes, so I dropped him off at the university and walked into the Market. I used to spend all my time in the Market, because I worked there and also because my BH lived there. I used to like it. Now the sheer number of people make me want to run away screaming. Either the Market got busier or I lost my patience.

I ducked into Letellier to avoid the throng, convincing myself as I walked through the door that a new pair of funky shoes will keep my confidence up at the show next week. I tried on several pairs of colourful, wild shoes, but they didn't have any in size TINY for my feet. So I walked out with a pair of black, practical wedges.

Not what I had in mind, but still nice. I'll have to re-think the outfit now.

Another fun heat-related tidbit: sun rash has started! Do any of you get sun rash? As I type, it is crawling across my feet and winding up my legs. I think I'll take a cold bath to stop the madness.

Oh, and if the sight of a violent red rash wasn't attractive enough, I also have a hickey on my neck. Happy Wednesday!

I have the next three days off in what was supposed to be my summer vacation. After I found out about The Gig, I filled each day with rehearsals, so I guess I'll just be doing a different kind of work. No complaints here.

My laptop is in the shop, so I can't upload any pictures. That's a damn shame. I've got pictures of Shawna's biceps, me in a green dress, a drunken closeup of my eye, Morty, Morty, Morty, and a great shot of Milan schooling someone on the law as it relates to photographers.*

Also, in most excellent news, I have finished a song! I do hope this is a sign of things to come. I'd like to catch up a bit this summer, since it's been such a dry year for writing.

Tonight we are breaking out our teeny grill and cooking up some spicy trout. Then we're off to the NAC to watch Thomson Highway's Cree Cabaret. Maybe this will be a vacation after all.


*Have you ever witnessed someone trying to argue with Milan? It's like watching a train wreck, and Milan always walks away unscathed. Then he shrugs and says something like, "They really ought to know their facts a bit better." It's the best.

So how did the wedding go? 97% awesome.

The two awkward moments I was fretting about did not go the way I imagined they would. The first was not awkward at all; it was lovely and friendly and good. I was so pleased, I was practically beaming.

The second awkward moment was approximately ten times more awkward than I expected, pretty much obliterating the good feelings from the first encounter. But I learned something from all the bullshit.

First, I realized that I've become very good at putting away old feuds for the sake of being genuine and kind. I'm not trying to brag or make myself seem saintly. I have a fine roster of faults, but I generally give people the benefit of the doubt, and I'm happy to let bygones be bygones if the other party seems willing.

However.

I am also not interested in wasting my time playing nice if the other person behaves like, oh, I don't know... A catty bitch. Once I've determined that someone won't take the time to be friendly, I will gladly cut my losses and let them fuck off and play by themselves. There's way more to life than faking my way through awful conversations with awful people. Like dancing, for example. And cake. And an open bar.

Yes, it was an open bar. I didn't realize until I tried to pay for my drink(s).

And yes, I am walking upright today, thank you.

Just barely.

I like the transition that happens to my fingertips when music really picks up. They go from being soft and squishy to being rock hard and rough. When I tap them on a table top, they go click click click instead of thump thump thump.

It makes me feel like I'm getting things done. Physical evidence that I'm practicing, right?

We had a rehearsal last night for the Vinyl Cafe show. Did I tell you that I'm bringing two bandmates with me instead of one? Brian will be there, of course, and so will Jeff. Jeff has grown a giant beard since I last saw him, and he officially looks like a lumberjack.

I'm not exaggerating when I say that hearing them both sing harmony on my songs gives me full-body shivers. It's just so nice, and they are both so good. Sometimes I'm amazed that I get to play with them. They make me look like I know what I'm doing.

I also think they are both pretty thrilled to be part of the show. Jeff said his parents freaked out when they heard. I just hope the tickets aren't gone - does anyone know if both nights are full? I don't really understand the Ticketmaster site.

Tomorrow is my friends' wedding. Their gift came in the mail yesterday, so other than losing the invite and not having an outfit picked out, I'm ready to go. I wrote HSB to find out the details, because it would be so incredibly lame to show up at the wrong church. I imagine the invite was misplaced while I reorganizing my desk. Cruel, cruel irony.

Providing I show up at the right place, I think it will be a great time. It will give me a chance to disconnect my brain from gig nervousness. I'm getting my hair re-striped tonight, so at at very least I will have proper platinum to brown contrasting. That will surely distract people from the fact that I'll be wearing a paper bag.

- Our anniversary was great. Low key, but really great. My BH made my favourite curry dish for dinner - a spicy shrimp stew with a lentil dal. For dessert, he whipped up a batch of chocolate pudding and topped it with my favourite mini sponge cakes from a bakery nearby. We watched Before Sunset and tried to do some kissing, but Morty kept climbing on my BH's head and chewing on his ears. Thanks, Morty. Then we went to the dog park and MET ANOTHER DOG NAMED MORDICHAI. No shit.

- The next week and a half is going to be insane! Rehearsals, weddings, birthdays, hair colouring, pedicures with my Bubbi... And then the big show. I think it's going to be great, but I might go totally bonkers in the process. My calender is so messy I'm having trouble figuring out where I'm supposed to be every day. My immediate brain response is usually: "In the bath, eating cake."

- Two funny things from my work: a dude at a nearby desk yelled this out a few days ago, "But I can crochet! That's got to count for something!" It's been cracking me up ever since, I do't even know what he was talking about. Also, remember when I got that crazy flu? Turns out someone on my floor has tested positive for H1N1. Yes, swine flu. Is it possible I had the infamous piggy cold? Apparently so! Rock and roll!

Here's something crazy amazing: tomorrow is my nine-year anniversary with my Better Half. Isn't that wild?

I still remember how I felt when I first laid eyes on him at the music store where I worked. Okay fine: first I looked at his ass (it is quite an ass), and then I checked out his cute mug. So gorgeous! My heart rate went bonkers and I realized I was staring. Turns out he was my co-worker's best friend, which was good, because otherwise I would have had to figure out how to get a perfect stranger to come back to the store. Let's be honest... It would have involved stalking.

I didn't have to try too hard, in the end. He came back exactly a week later and asked me out. He's been the love of my life ever since. Hear that, BH? I wanna make out with you! Right now! Immediately!

Anyways, the date has snuck up on us a bit, and we don't have anything planned. At first I didn't think that was a big deal - it's just a date, right? But now I feel sad that we didn't put something special together. Anniversaries can be a great excuse to get away and celebrate. Next year will be a whole dang decade of love, so maybe we'll plan something awesome to make up for this year.

Or maybe we can have an impromptu cupcake making session tomorrow. It would be a shame to do nothing at all. Damn you, bad planning!*

I'd like to share some things I adore about my BH, so you can see why I gush:

- He bakes elaborate cakes and pies on a whim and doesn't think that's unusual.

- He's built like a Greek god (oh, stop being shy! it's true!)

- He once biked to PEI and doesn't think that's unusual.

- In one short year, he's going to be a nurse. Plus he's already a trained firefighter. SO HOT.

- He likes to play practical jokes on people and then giggles to himself for days when he thinks about them....

- He is the kindest, most honourable person I know.

- He has awesome taste in music and is very supportive of my CD addiction.

- When he and Morty snuggle, and Morty sighs contentedly, my heart explodes with the cuteness.

- He speaks a million languages and can navigate a busy street in Mumbai.

- He knows a lot about mangoes and eats them with great enthusiasm.

- He's gorgeous... Did I mention that already?

- He still makes me laugh daily, often the doubled-over, rolling-on-the-ground kind, where I guffaw at the end. I like that a lot.


*Hey BH! Despite the lack of plans, I want you to know that you are still the hottest little tamale I've ever met. Thanks for being so totally awesome. As a special gift, I have adopted another bulldog! Heh, just kidding, don't have a heart attack. I need to remember that one for next year though....

Gah, Westfest was so fun! Other than my sloppy application of sunscreen (resulting in two triangular-shaped burns on my feet), the weekend went off without a hitch.

We scored some backstage passes and got to enjoy The Acorn's rainy set from the comfort of the VIP tent. We were originally a little shy to use our passes, since I'm not playing the fest this year and felt like an impostor, but MAN I'm glad we changed our minds. Open bar, homemade candies, catching up with some musical friends and giant hugs from the festival organizer. So much better than roughing it in the rain.

I've got a pretty intense rehearsal schedule for the next two weeks, and then it's the big show. While I feel pretty good about the songs, I have no idea what to wear. This is not the sort of gig where I can show up in jeans and a t-shirt covered in puppy fur. Right now, I'm thinking hot pink a-line skirt and high pink leather boots. Maybe a shirt, too. Or maybe not!

I've been so caught up in the gig preparation that I haven't really gotten my brain together for the wedding that's happening this weekend. At least my BH's suit is dry cleaned and ready to party. I'll have to sort through my closet and pick out something fun for myself.

S'okay though... Unlike at the gig, I can drink myself into a state of Cute this weekend. So helpful.

Shawna is in town, and I managed to quell the cough long enough to visit with her last night.

We decided to go to the Georgetown to see my cousin Brian host the open mic night. Unfortunately, we arrived much too early, and the open mic started much too late. As a result, Shawna and I found ourselves with extra time to burn.... In a sports bar.

I hate sports bars. Sorry, but its true. I hate the loud screens, the loud dudes, the rude bartenders... I hate getting my brain kicked back to middle school where I was a freaky arts kid in a class full of football players. I'm not sure I've ever found a sports bar where I've felt comfortable, unless I get myself there artificially by drinking the bar dry. Then I'm no longer in a sports bar, I'm in Magical Drinking Land where everything is funny and I can suddenly dance like a Colombian.

The open mic finally started just before 11pm, when I really should have been in bed, given my bad state of health. We watched Brian play some tunes, and I jumped up to sing our favourite Prince cover right before Shawna and I split.

It ended up being fun, but oh man, I get the willies in places like that. Luckily for the Georgetown, they've got a good thing happening with their open mics. It was songwriter central there, with about five established local singers there looking to have a good time. Actually, I think everyone on the bill from the Wakefield gig was there last night. That's a rare treat for an open stage.

Catching up with Shawna was pretty great. Since we've known each other from primary school onwards, we've always got plenty to talk about... Not to mention the fact that we both somehow became songwriters. Maybe there was something in the water at that playground.

I might even get to see her again this Saturday, when the city converges on Westfest. I think that festival is doing everything right, and I plan to soak it all in this weekend. If I can figure out how to get my pup down there, it will be even better. It's going to be cute doggie central!

I'm still quite sick. I haven't been at work so far this week, but I have to go in tomorrow no matter how I feel. Things are due.

I haven't been "flu" sick in many years, and it's strange how it has completely knocked me on my ass. I feel very weak, and spend most of my time sleeping or trying to sleep. Morty has been trying to cuddle me by lying on my face, which caused several instances of panic when I had difficulties breathing in. Bulldog weight combined with already-laboured lungs, right.

The sickness has taken away my sense of smell and taste, which is just cruel. These are highly-valuable senses, sickness! As a result, I haven't had much of an appetite. Eating things for texture got tired after I downed a whole mango. It didn't even taste like mango, it tasted like Cold and Wet. Booo.

I know I have to eat, so today I had a piece of sponge cake and a pickle. Things are looking up! My BH is making me a nice dinner, and I'm hoping that the sheer number of jalapenos in his salsa will wake up my mouth.

In other news, after reading through a cookbook from New Orleans, I've decided that I absolutely have to go there. As soon as possible. Right now, even. Let's go! I'm sure my cold will take one look at the cuisine and leave my body out of sympathy.

Well THAT went well.

I figured I would trainwreck at today's gig because, as you know, I'm sick as a dog. While the nausea passed, I still had a fever going into the Black Sheep and hadn't tested out my voice yet.

From my perspective, I sang badly and made very little sense when I rambled on about my songs. I started off the set with chills and halfway through, like magic, I started to sweat my brains out like someone had turned up the heat. Chaaarming.

But the audience was clapping and laughing at my jokes, and I even saw some people singing along. I sold CDs and got more praise than I do at some of my best shows. So hey, I may have felt like total ass, but the performance apparently didn't suck.*

I left early though, because I didn't want to get everyone sick, and my vision was blurry. A good reason, I think.

Now I'm bundled up in pajamas, about to watch some Harry Potter, and eating the goodies Milan dropped off to make me feel better. My BH made me a spicy matso ball soup and if that doesn't cure me, I don't know what will.

*That's good, because my former boss's boss's boss was there with her whole family, and I didn't want to disappoint them... Apparently her kids keep my CD on repeat. CUTE, but oh man, I feel for that woman. Anything sounds bad after 100 plays.

I don't get sick very often, so I was wholly unprepared for the shit storm that took over my body last night.

I had a cough during the day, but passed it off as an allergy. After last summer's mystery cough, I figured I could handle a day of ticklish throat. My BH and I went to the World Exchange Plaza that night to see Angels and Demons (there is far too much burning flesh in that film) and then it hit.

Opening credits, first few scenes, and uncontrolable nausea. I ran out of the theatre several times fully expecting to hurl. By the end of the movie, I was shaking and had the chills. We walked home, I think. I was dizzy by then.

I spent all of today in bed, minus the time I took to run a bath and make myself some soup. This sure feels like flu: cold sweat, fever, sensitive skin. Did I mention fever?

I'm hoping that if I get a good 12 hours of sleep, I'll be able to sing for half an hour at the Black Sheep tomorrow. I really hate backing out of gigs.

I... Need to get back in bed now.

Dear sweet readers...

I just opened my music e-mail account to find the most exciting news. The kind of news that makes me happy I went to the trouble of going broke to make this album. The kind of news that makes it okay to spend every waking second for a whole year listening to the same ten songs until my ears started to bleed. That kind of exciting, you know?

I've responded to the e-mail, just to make sure I'm not imagining things, and when I get a response I'll spill the beans. I just can't imagine gushing about it here and then discovering that I was hallucinating.

Shit, music can be exciting.

In other, less exciting news...

At 3 AM this morning, Morty decided he would rather wrap his furry body around my head than continue sleeping down near my feet. Have you ever tried sleeping with bulldog torso in your mouth? It's hard to do - obstructs the breathing.

I'm really sleepy.

___________________________________________

EDIT:

I got the response. Here's my news.

On June 29th and 30th, I'll be playing at the Museum of Civilization. For the Vinyl Cafe. With Stuart McLean. It will be recorded and then played across the country. Tickets here, and yup, it will sell out.

And the other musical guest?

HAWKSLEY WORKMAN. One of my biggest musical crushes. I am such a fan of this guy, I hesitate to blather on about it, because you'll think I'm nuts. Let me leave it at this: I really, really like what he does. The first time I saw him play, strutting around on stage in a red suit and a giant afro, I nearly lost my shit. I had to pick my jaw up off the ground.

Then he proceeded to strip whilst blindfolded (it was part of the show, not something I made up, promise).

Now I'm going to have to speak to him. WORDS. I will have to form WORDS that do not sound anything like "please adopt me."

Holy fuck.

Dudes, how the hell am I going to do this?

Hey, the gig scene is looking up!

I'm playing at the Black Sheep this Sunday, the Cameron House in Toronto next month, and I *think* at Irene's in August. Not bad for a so-called quiet summer. And who knows... I might even have some new songs by then!

My BH and I were walking Morty the other day when we heard a squeal, and looked up to see a woman running across the street in our direction. She made a beeline for Morty, got down on her knees in front of him and said, "ARE YOU A PRETTY BULLIE? WHO'S MY BABY!"

Then she made snorty sounds at him and squished his little face. He wiggled happily and snorted like a piglet. THAT'S how to greet a bullie, folks. Instant doggie smile.

After I got over the initial surprise, I realized that this woman did exactly what I always think of doing when I see another bulldog. She's just not as shy as I am. Or maybe she's missing the worry bone that makes me think twice before crawling on my hands and knees on Somerset.

I salute you, crazy bulldog lady. You are my people.

I wrote another piece of song yesterday - I think the trick is to sneak to the bedroom while Morty is sleeping, and start playing before he wakes up and tries to join me. That way he'll hear the guitar and be too scared to follow.

Having a dog who is frightened of instruments is tough. I love that pup, but how he ended up with a banjo phobia is beyond me. I'm a freaking songwriter. It's what I do.

(Actually, it might be even worse if Morty did this)

Strangely, while he's scared of my instruments, he's a total tough guy on walks and tries to take off people's legs if they come to close to me without warning. Very protective. I pity the fool who tries to mug me. The last thing they'll see is a giant drooling bulldog flying through the air.

I had a nice talk with HSB last night about all the potential awkward moments that may present themselves at this upcoming wedding. It's just going to be one of those odd situations where everybody has dated each other at some point, and now we have to manage the sea of exes and burned bridges that follow. I was planning on pre-drinking a bit, but it might be easier if I arrive drunk.

I'm only partially kidding. There's a good chance it'll just be awesome fun and nothing awkward will happen at all. I'm just trying to be prepared.

Funny that I've mapped out the possible personal clashes, but I haven't bothered to find an outfit! I'm thinking fishnets.

And maybe a dress.

I'm off work today, so I'm making an effort to be a better blogger and actually write a post with pictures. AMAZING.

Music News:

Remember how I told you that the Vinyl Cafe was going to play one of my songs on their show over the weekend? They played it both Saturday and Sunday, and it was just as exciting as the first time I heard my songs on the air. I got all squealy. Picture me, ear on the speaker, going, "SQUEEEEEEEEE!" That's pretty much how it went down.

It was also neat to watch my stat counter and see people finding my music site from all across Canada and the US. Who knew that show had so many dang listeners? I mean, I figured as much... But seeing those numbers spike was tres cool. It also made me wonder if I should change my name for the next album, because shit, my real name is not catchy. I'm not sure a single person searching me spelled it right. On a practical level, that's not good for marketing.

And since I'm blathering on so much about music... I met with a filmmaker yesterday who is going to make me a music video! Like, a real one! One I can play on the television! The weird thing is that he originally contacted me to use one of my songs in his short film, and after chatting a bit, we realized that he went to high school with my BH.

Small freaking world.

I played him the only song I've got written for the new album, and he gave me a run-down of how he'd like to film it. It involves a snow storm, so it's a good thing we live in Ottawa! Free props. He's also going to take care of finding grant money, because he was sent straight from heaven.

Non-Music News:

My BH and I had planned to go to a wedding shower Saturday, and then to Irene's to see Brian play. Instead, my BH got called into work, and I headed down to the shower alone.

The shower was full of friends from high school, including High School Boyfriend* and a variety of people I used to hang out with every second of every day. Some of them now have babies. Am I ever going to get used to that? I don't think so. My friend introduced me to her son, and all I could think about was when we used to hang out at her house and eat boxes of brandy beans to try and get drunk.

True story. We had real class.

Anyway. It's been pretty neat to reconnect with those old friends. I still love them to bits, and it's kinda cool to see them all growing up. Scary, but cool. We're at the stage where people are pretending not to see those one or two grey hairs cropping up. For the record, I love young guys with grey hair, so I'm quite enjoying the shift. I just have to remember not to point it out with so much enthusiasm.

I drank several plastic cups of beer at the shower, ate no less than four mini cupcakes, and headed down to Irene's to catch Brian's set.

He was awesome, and I was drunk.

*HSB gave me a belated birthday present, and YAY, it's a book! I think we've been gifting each other books for the past few years, and it's never a disappointment.