Hella Stella

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.