I found out at the allergist today that the reason I have been having asthma issues and severe
allergies is because I have developed a severe allergy to my cat
Biscuit. I need to find Biscuit a new, safe, happy home so that I can
breathe normally again. I am devastated to have to say goodbye to this
kitty. We have spent 4 years together and he has been such a wonderful
companion. I am praying that one of you may be interested in welcoming
Biscuit into your home, or may know someone who is.

Let me tell you why Biscuit is a wonderful cat:

1) He never scratches furniture
2) He always uses his litter box
3) He has hardly ever thrown up or coughed up hairballs
4) He is funny
5) He is weird and unique
6) He likes to cuddle and knead bread on you
7) He follows you around more when you are sad
8) He has a cute little meow
9) He does what he is told!

Some things to know about him are that he is about 4 and a half years
old, he is neutered, and is up to date with shots. He has been both an
outside and indoor cat, and loves being outside. He has never been
around dogs, and tends to be skiddish around other cats, but sometimes
he has become friendly and curious with other cats. It just takes him
some time. Biscuit gets scared of the wind and vacuums and tends to
jump at loud noises. He likes to drink water from a little trickle out
of the bathtub.

If anyone is interested in bringing Biscuit into their life, please
contact me as soon as you can. And, if you could please pass the word on, I would be so grateful. Thank you so much :)

On my way back home

I turned off the radio

The leaves are late this year

They need to let go

I remember every roadside cross

Before it appears

They are nameless

Who remembers?

But I’m not gonna spin out this time

I’m not gonna spin out this time

I’m not gonna spin out this time

Because this struggle is over

It’s over

Though I’m skirting the shoulder

The wheel is steady, the city, is on the horizon

I’ve got my headlights on

In the middle of the day

The bulging clouds

Swirl over the highway

And the sky opens up like a big sigh

It’s pretty

And the leaves come tumbling down

All around me

But I’m not gonna spin out this time

I’m not gonna spin out this time

I’m not gonna spin out this time

Because this struggle is over

It’s over

Though I’m skirting the shoulder

The wheel is steady, I’m ready, to go home.

It happened. My goal and dream. I am playing with a full band on Friday (11/16) for the first time in years (Pete Sheehan, Jonathan Cohen and Frank Moscowitz). I am beyond excited and so grateful. If you would like to feel my joy, come down to Red Square this Friday night at 9 PM. I will hug you :) Oh, and these awesome guys and this awesome group are playing too. It will be well worth the trip!

I have been sick now for about a week and a half. Sickness is strange. It forces you to stop your life. Just cease your routine and lay, and sit, and lay and think. I have not "stopped" my life in quite a while. I think it was time.

I have been thinking about many things these last 10 days. And reading Sark's Succulent Wild Woman (Thanks Renee!) has been a nice catalyst as I lay on my back and doze about where I have come from, and where I am going.

Dreams

I have been thinking a lot about my dreams. Do I have any anymore? Have I achieved them? What is left unfulfilled in my life? When I was younger my dreams were very strong. To live a rich, daring, fulfilling creative life. And in some ways I have achieved this dream. I have performed and written a wealth of music, and become an adequate improviser on stage. I have been recording since January, and feel creatively fulfilled often.

But since I can remember, I have felt the need to struggle, to push, to work harder, to achieve more, to make more of myself. That having a dream meant you were always struggling to get there.

Lately, I have felt little to no desire to push, struggle, or jump. What does this mean? Does this mean I have given up on my dreams? Or, does it mean I am happy, and I have never known what that has really felt like before?

Every year or so I make a list of all of the things that I wish to do before I die. This year, my list seemed much shorter? And included things that seemed quite attainable (gallop on a horse, learn how to take beautiful photos, surf on a surfboard). I think that my goals and dreams have shifted with my age, and this is a new and strange phenomenon. I no longer want to be a career musician. I no longer want to travel the world alone in search of adventure and art. I want to live the life I am living, and that is amazing to me.

I feel good about my job, and enjoy it more often than not. I feel like my work makes a contribution to my community and that is what I have always hoped for.

I am in love with a good man that I can trust and depend on, and that makes me unbelievably happy.

I have creative projects that fulfill me and make me happy.

I have friends that I love and am inspired by.

I have good relationships with my family, and feel like they are getting better all of the time.

I am secure, stable, but open.

I am older now. I am 30 and am kind of relishing the perspective that I have.

One More

After all of this musing on my couch and bed, I have come up with one dream, one dream that I have just not yet ever been able to fulfill. I am going to state it now, because I think the more we voice our dreams, the more likely they are to come true.

I want to put together a band with musicians that all get along and collaborate creatively and energetically. I want to be able to perform with this band all of the work I am recording right now. I want to believe I can make this happen, and then make it happen. I will make it happen.

Do you have any dreams? Have you given up on yours? Do remember what it/they was/were? I hope so.

Voice:

My voice has been a source of embarrassment and pride for most of my life. It has been an interesting paradox that most people who have seen me perform do not quite understand. Let me explain:

My pride: My singing voice.

My embarrassment: My speaking voice.

Whenever someone comes to see me sing, they are sometimes taken aback if they come to talk to me afterwards. "That big voice came out of your little tiny voice? How is that possible?" I never know what to say. Why is my speaking voice and my singing voice so different?

Ever since I was about 8, I was chided by adults and peers to stop talking in a "baby" voice. Sometimes I would cry. "I don't know how!" i might exclaim. How do I change my voice? How do I do that? I would try fake ways of altering the tone of my voice and then get so exasperated and confused. Why couldn't people like me for who I was, how I spoke?

At camp one summer in AZ, my counselor (18 year old Holly) told me (11) to stop talking like a baby. She told everyone in my cabin that if I talked like a baby to stop talking to me. I was terrified. It was so much pressure. Not only was I extremely embarrassed and self-conscious, I was immediately disliked by the rest of my cabin-mates. I was an outcast, and I was ashamed. I spoke very little the entire week and would often cry and try to hide my tears to no avail. It was awful.

Many similar incidents have happened as I have aged, again I would try to "change" my voice, but couldn't seem to do it. I have had more than one boyfriend tell me that my voice is displeasing to them. I have never known how to "fix" this problem. Lately, the worst thing for me is hearing myself on an answering machine. I think, "who the fuck is that? That can't be my high-pitched tiny voice with no backbone?" It is shocking to me. And embarrassing, but yet, I have no solution.

Where does one's voice come from? Is it something that you can manipulate? Why do I feel safer behind a microphone? Did I become a singer to find a "new" voice that I could be proud of? One that transformed all of my shame? I often have the feeling that when I speak, I am holding back, that there is this tourniquet around my throat, and I am slave to it. In improv I have been working on my volume, but so far to no avail. At work, I am often told to speak up because people can't hear me when I am giving a presentation. How is this possible? I am a performer for god's sake, why can't I just open up, and let it out, be comfortable with VOLUME and Resonance?

I like being on stage. I like singing with my eyes closed like I am someone completely different, someone with a voice steady, sure, strong. I like being that person. I like it a lot.

An aside note:

It is refreshing when blogging to be yourself. To expose what is real. To really express what you experience. That is what I enjoy most. Honest stories that I can identify with. Three cheers for truth and revelation.

I love it! Thanks Renee for the heads up on Bill :-)

I had a frightening event this past Friday. I have wanted to write about it, but the further away from it I get, the less real it seems.

I have been driving to Binghamton almost every other weekend since Brian and I have started dating. The drive is along I-88, a beautiful stretch of NY countryside with a smattering of small towns, and a 65 mph speed limit. I often drive straight from work, and the drive takes about 2 and a half hours. It is peaceful, and I enjoy listening to books on tape as I go, or writing songs by singing them aloud and trying to write down lyrics on the steering wheel, or just sitting in the quiet, having a moment to think clearly.

Last Friday I was driving down to see Brian perform. I was originally going to surprise him, but if any of you know me, I am terrible with surprises and told him I was coming. I was driving in the left lane about 30 minutes down on 88 with a large 18 wheeler truck a little ahead of me in the right lane. Behind him was a sedan. We were all going about 70 miles an hour. Suddenly the car jerked out in front of me and ran me off of the road. I jerked the wheel back to try and get back on the highway, but jerked too far. My car started to spin uncontrollably.

As I entered into that first spin, not knowing if anyone was going to be behind me, I seriously considered the possibility that I was about to die. Someone traveling at 70 mph could have easily crushed us both. Time slowed down, and I became very calm. It was strange. You always hear accounts of those who have had near death experiences in terms of time slowing down, or everything becoming clear, or their life flashing before their eyes. I guess these things were pretty much true for me. I was prepared as the car turned towards oncoming traffic to see another vehicle smashing into me, and my body became ready for the impact. Why was I so calm? Relaxed? How is that possible? When I faced the oncoming traffic, cars were very far away.

I was relieved, but I could not stop spinning. Each time I spun, the cars became closer to me, and I was concerned I would hurt other people, kill or maim other people because my car was out of control. I finally swerved the car onto the shoulder and sat there. Suddenly, my body started shaking uncontrollably as if I was having a seizure. My calmness disappeared and I was hysterical.

A van pulled off of the road in front of me. A man about 40 stepped out and walked towards my car. I slowly got out of my seat, realized I was barefoot on the gravel. He asked me if I was ok, was there anything he could do for me, that he saw what happened and I must be terrified. He looked at my car, said my wheels were new and may have saved my life. I saw 3 children peering at me from the back window of his van. I was shaking and crying, and he reached out again to see if he could do anything for me. And then he said, “You look like you need a hug. Can I give you a hug?” And he gave me one. And it was magical. A hug from a stranger draped with real care and concern. He drove away, and I sat back in my car.

And then, all I could think about was how incredibly lucky I was. How extremely lucky I was. I didn’t have a scratch on me, no one was hurt, my car was fine, and I was able to drive to Binghamton and see Brian’s show. I felt so grateful that in that moment, that I forgave the person in the car who cut me off, who did not stop when they saw and heard the unbearable screeching of my wheels as I spun.

I am frightened often by how cavalier we are with our vehicles. They are weapons, they are dangerous. Driving is a serious activity that takes innumerable lives. I call out to any readers, please, understand that that extra 3 seconds you may get from cutting someone off to get to your destination is just not worth it. Relax, life is too short.

A hand on your heart
You stopped by the flower cart
No one needs to try
No one needs to

A walk in the snow
You smile
Snowflakes on your brow
And my belly's round

Squeeze my hand tight
And we cross the street
You kiss me
You kiss me again

A hand on your heart
You stopped by the flower cart
No one needs to try
No one needs to