Dear 2012, I have a few things I’d like to say…

Every year on the 1st, people dig out a piece of paper and pen ambitions they hold for the coming 365 days.  Usually broad generalizations (“I want to be healthy;” I want to travel”), they rarely amount to much beyond the first week of the year.  I have spent the last few days on ice (literally) trying to decide what it is I want this year to look like.  Some of that is already mapped out for me: I am going to Italy in March, I’m coming to Canada in May for my dad’s 6oth and I’m chipping away at the ‘ol PhD) but I was asked last night what I had planned with music for the new year and the only thing that came to mind was “PLAY!”  I have loved performing live, it has become like musical crack cocaine.  Little has pulled me from the stage outside of the required hours for online teaching, writing massive PhD papers, reading textbooks and this past year: illness.

So 2012, this is what I have to say to you:  I walked into this new year a little broken as a strep throat carrier, with recurring bouts and a still aggravated throat as well as a fractured shoulder and a little bruised but I walked into this year healing.  I plan to have a healthy year (prayerfully,  very prayerfully), prosperous (I will have more money in the bank due to less health bills), and successful (musical avenues will present themselves and I will continue to maintain my grades at LU).

I suppose if I had to make a list (I don’t know where paper is in this house, loads of pens at my parents, shortage on paper; but aren’t they made on keys and screens these days?); if I had to make one it would probably look something like this:

1. Completely heal from strep through a strict anti-inflammatory supplement/diet regime and an inordinate amount of rest.
2. Record two or three of my covers and offer them as free downloads, as well as creating corresponding videos and posting them online
3. Audition for The Voice or The X Factor (yes, I am 33 and I want to try one of these singing competitions for kicks)
4. Complete another 6 classes for my PhD
5. Find someone to fall in love with (or better yet, have them find me).  I have failed at this for the last 33 years, maybe I was meant to wait till 34
6. Start writing happy songs.  While composition is my therapy (all manner of composition), I think it’s time to spin my lyrical focus and in turn alter my literal focus.
7. Get heart healthy.  This past year, I discovered my many food allergies (see here: Food Allergies) and subsequently changed my diet and lost nearly 10 lbs.  It was so easy to drop the weight (with food) that I lost my passion for working out.  While I’m thin, I recognize the importance of keeping my heart healthy through exercise!  So back to the gym I go!
8. Spend daily time in the Word.  I have been a believer all my life, but there have been seasons of my faith that it’s been difficult to communicate with God.  The past few years have had numerous peeks and valleys, but I want to make a conscious effort to stay focused on Him this year.

What would your list look like?

Black Ice, 6lb Yorkie, and a Sprained/Fractured Shoulder…

This year has been…remarkable. So much that I haven’t been able to find the words to blog or at times even compose. To bring anyone up to speed, this past year has been a series of health hurdles, starting with second degree burns in January ’11 and ending this past week with a fractured scapula. It would take far longer than I have the energy to type to go into details about the events in between, so in summary: five bouts of strep, the flu, two various infections and a virus. My homeopathic doctor (I believe in a healthy balance between Eastern and Western medicine suggested I go back to blogging, so I’m taking her advice and sparing myself having to tell the IceCapades story over and over and over…

The last few New Years I have returned to the US to celebrate with friends, and this year was not supposed to be an exception. I had the past two days planned out, complete with new windshield wipers, a trip to the bank, laundry, dinner with the family and then a run to the border on the 31st only to end the year off in a sassy little Guess dress I bought singing with all those I know and love at Jimmy’s on the James, ringing in the New Year doing what I love the most. That all came to a crashing halt yesterday (literally).

My step mom and I spent the afternoon shopping in the city north of the little cottage town my family lives in. I hadn’t been to the mall up there, and was browsing for boxing week deals (see this blog for what that means if you are American: Boxing Day) which factored into my shoe choice yesterday morning. It’s a constant battle up here between surviving the elements outdoors but being able to discard clothing in the warm indoors of places like malls. So as I stared at my North Face boots (the obvious winter choice) and my Costco UGG knock offs (the more comfortable indoor choice) I opted for comfort as I knew we’d be meandering through the mall for a few hours.

Dropped the ever-loved Tim Hortons coffee to dad (Americans, see here: Tim Hortons), hung out a minute, went through the mall where I got this sweet Guess belt that was regular $59 (ridiculous) for $13 (store mistake!!), a sweet guess necklace and some earrings before my step mom and I decided to take the father figure one more coffee and head home. It is important to know that my father works 15 minutes north of our house and that we decided to bring the little Joey along for the day (For those who don’t know my animal child, see here: Joey). Yeah, yeah, I’m getting to the story!!

The Weather Yesterday...after a green Christmas!

Sue (step mom) and I decided to skip coffee till we got home, and just picked up one for dad. We were supposed to run in and run out and that phrase was literal as it was nearly -10 Celsius yesterday; colder with windchill! Now, remember my boot debate with myself earlier? Kissed daddy goodbye, tucked Joey into my right arm and started the jog back to the BMW. All I remember was I rounded the corner of the SUV and felt my foot fly out from underneath me. I had enough time between that moment and hitting the ground to think, ‘I have to protect Joey!’ So I brought up my left had to hold him away from the ground and successfully prevented him from injury as I crashed completely perpendicular on the ice-caked cement. I have no clue when I let him go because the fall stunned me. I hadn’t anticipated such a hard landing or the strange pain I felt seconds after hitting the ground. I had heard no breaking sounds, hadn’t hit my head, but there was the strangest sensation in my left arm and the second I stood up it became blinding.

It was a series of “Sue!! Sue!” and then like a five year old little girl I started back to my dad’s store crying “Daddy, help me, help me!” Of course, my poor father was not only working but had no idea what to do to help me. Sue was close to calling an ambulance but we concluded it was either a dislocated, fracture or as my dad said, “you just bruised your shoulder.” Just. If it was “just” a bruise, the trip from my dad’s work, home to drop of the Joey, to the hospital (totaling 45 minutes) involved the biggest tears, revolving shooting pain, and absolutely no comfortable position in the front of the Beamer. I kept apologizing to Sue (because that’s what Canadians do); mostly because I felt badly she had to listen to my whimpering and endure minute after minute of my solid pain, as I fought the urge to repeatedly cry, “hurry up, hurry up, please HURRY UP!” My logical brain was still working, and I knew she had no control over traffic or the speed limit.

She dropped me off an eternity later at the ER in Newmarket and at that point I didn’t care how much the visit was going to cost (thank you US medicine, if I were Canadian this all would have been free!!! – see here: Healthcare) and I walked in and stood in the middle of the room holding my left arm weeping. Canadians are usually nice, but I decided hospital workers see people like me all day long and maybe that’s why the lady at the desk said, “Are you ok?” Through my tears, I muttered, “no, I’m not.” She said, “Well, get a number on the pole behind you and we’ll call you up.” That made me cry even more because I’d already endured nearly an hour of pain and she was extending that. I pulled “67″ and the LED sign said they were working with “65,” so I took a seat in the corner of the waiting room away from everyone so as not to bother people with my continual tears.

I sat on the edge, there was no chance of solace without some sort of drug, and cried my little eyes out praying the time would fly. Of course, some guy decided to come and sit two seats next to me on the phone. I sat there and contemplated moving away, but decided he chose to sit there knowing I was some poor inconsolable girl, and just pretended he wasn’t there. So I was surprised when I heard him say to the person on the phone, “Can you hold on a second?” and then lean over to me and say, “Sorry, you seem to be in pain, can I get you anything?” I said, “no, thank you, I just need to see a doctor.” He said, “Okay, let me get you one.” I looked surprised and said, “no, no, I have a number, and I have to wait…” I’m not sure he heard the rest because he went up to registration and seconds later came back with one of the girls who promptly said, “your number is close enough, come with me.”

Canadian Saint Number 1

My step mom finally made it in from parking in Egypt (it seemed) and helped fill in my broken words as I signed away my life, promising to pay whatever astronomical costs I might incur when I walked through the double doors. I must have looked a hot mess, because I was “Fast Tracked” and as soon as the paper work was processed I didn’t have to go back to waiting, but walked straight to the back, and was promptly ushered to Room #9. One of the ER nurses came in and asked what was wrong, and then ushered me off to X-rays. The water works hadn’t stopped yet (hour and a half?) and when I got to the room to wait for x-ray, some sweet guy and his son (who my step mom later found out had been waiting since 10am to be seen for something) gave up his seat so I could sit and sob in a comfy chair instead of on the floor.

Canadian Saint #2

Through my tears, I was well aware that everyone was looking at me, but each shot of pain reminded me I didn’t care.

Then the Eastern European XRay Doctor came out, took one look at my brand new Christmas sweater and said, “we need to X-ray her chest, so you need to figure out a way to get that sweater off or we’re cutting it and her bra off.” I liked my sweater, and this was a good bra!!! So this sweet volunteer (a woman) and my step mom came into the bathroom with me and through searing pain I managed to get half of everything off and told them, “he’s going to have to deal with this, because that’s as good as it’s going to get – I fell on my back not on my chest!!”

I was next, and he called me into this massive room with metal plates everywhere and had me sit for the first round putting my busted shoulder into varying positions that caused some pain but was nothing compared to when he had me stand and put out my arm. The room started to spin, and I told the guy “I’m going to pass out.” He says, “No, you’re fine, I just need one more.” I said, “I’m really not. I’m going to pass out.” So he had me sit down on a chair for a second (obviously frustrated) and said, “stop breathing so much, you’re taking in too much oxygen.” So I tried to slow down my breathing (did he not know I was in pain!?!) and we kept going. One more turned into 10 more and once he had me laying on the metal table, I could hear “fracture” and “Scapula” in the other room as they looked at the images. I think that’s the worst, when the technicians know information but “you have to wait to talk to the doctor.” I wanted to know what he was seeing!!!

Since I nearly passed out, I was escorted back to Room 9 in a wheelchair, apologizing to everyone I rolled by for getting in their way (I AM Canadian . Sat on the bed and had a nurse come in with two huge pills that she said will “take away the pain,” and then said I need to pull my pants down as she held up a massive needle, “this is going to help with inflammation.” I hate needles. HATE them. Pass out status with needles alone…and here she was trying to shoot me in the rear? Isn’t that what they do with babies??

Trauma over, the doctor came in and said, “I can’t see anything right now, so it’s just a sprain. Here is a prescription for Oxycontin, and you’ll be good in about 2-3 weeks.” A SPRAIN?? I’m telling you right now, that I do not remember a sprain hurting that bad. I sprained my ankle in high school playing volleyball and finished out the game. I had a second degree burn and the flu and still performed a full show at Jimmys (See Here: Burn). But THIS had me balling like a baby for nearly two hours straight? The phone call I got today made a little more sense when the nurse called and said upon closer inspection, “it appears as though you have a minimal fracture on your scapula that will take 2-6 weeks to heal” and will include some beautiful bruising.”

So there you have it. That is how I ended up staying in Canada for New Years and how I ended 2011. Here is my forecast for 2012: Completely restored health and loads of wonderful eventful stories to blog about!!

That’s right…I’m back!!! HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

The Randolph College Matrix…

While I wasn’t skillfully dodging bullets last night, wearing head to toe leather, or black wrap-around sunglasses contemplating blue or red pills…I WAS sitting in my first class at Randolph College, all geared up to spend 2 1/2 hours with 15 students I had yet to meet and looking at a room full of empty seats when the clock struck 7pm.

So clearly NOT me...but exactly what I stared at for 30 minutes last night.

How is it possible that ALL 15 of my students did not show up for the first class?  I have had a number of students roll in late for a first class, decide to drop it the day class started, but generally speaking there are warm bodies in seats long before the hour begins.  If it hadn’t been for a former student showing up to say Hi to me before class started, I am not sure how I would have proceeded, but we ended up going down to IT as I had decided I must have had the class room wrong (reason of deduction).  This poor IT guy was frazzled by the tornado that was myself storming into his office and begging him to pull up my schedule on the computer.  For the academic excellence that is Randolph College, they’re lollygagging when it comes to technology and I couldn’t get cell reception through the historic walls or log into my computer; so this poor guy was my only chance at finding my students.  Unfortunately, he couldn’t log me in either, couldn’t access a master calendar, and was generally no help so I left only to have him fly out the door seconds later saying, “I found your schedule, you’re in LG 611!”  That’s what I had on my syllabus.  Where were my students???

(Have to go to voice lessons, will finish this lata!)

Maple Leafs and Summer Storms

This fall, I will have been in the USA for 14 years (Liberty All-Star and will have spent 19 years in Canada.  Rapidly approaching half and half and while I know that my time is unfairly shared each year between my home and nativeland and the land of stars and stripes; I have never seen myself as an “American.”  I haven’t necessarily seen me staying in the US forever either…I had thought by now, if I were to stay, I would have found myself a lovely Yankee, hitched our wagon to a life in a US state and be raising a couple international children (CanAm .

Alas, I am in the same relational state I was in when I arrived in the US in 1997 and now that I’m sitting back home in Canada I realize the thing I love the most is the ability to commute between both countries, maintain a life in both nations and see those I love when I’m home and return to others I love when I go back home

Yet, this trip home has me thinking, in ways that I haven’t before, am ready to find someone to “do life” with.  I had a “Prince Charming” fantasy about this for years (thank you Disney) but not so much anymore.  There is no “ideal,” just finding someone whose company you enjoy, who makes you a better person as you make them, and you choose to face life head-on together.  Doesn’t seem like such a tall order, and I’m not necessarily fussy about which country this person is from, but in 32 years I’ve had zero success…maybe I’ll find it in 33

“Oh man, THOSE are so good!!”

If I had a Canadian loonie for every time I’ve said that in the last six months…I’d be able to quit one of my 4 jobs (smile).  Instead, those words spill out of my mouth more times than I care to remember as I wipe a bit of drool from the corner as I pass things like dutch waffle cookies, or Tim Horton’s timbits, or any random pizza shop…

I bought a package of these in Amsterdam 4 years ago and nearly polished off the bag on the flight to Toronto

I exercise what I have now determined is an amazing amount of self-control, writing this as I safely drink my soy milk latte from Starbucks reminiscing about the days I would eat whatever I wanted and only sometimes choose not to as I considered the “moment on the lips, lifetime on the hips” adage.

I was sitting earlier at the mall with the $5 shoes I had bought from the unreal “end of summer” sales thinking about the times in my life that I had been what I would consider “tiny.”  There was a stint in college where I charted 29% body fat.  That was after a 3 week trip to England where the only thing they fed us was McDonald’s and the only walking we did was on and off a bus.  I swore after that I would never be that heavy again.  I returned to school that fall and ate “healthy,” which amounted to the salad bar and whatever else I thought was “good” for me; but the late night pizza’s and the dining out at Outback kept the pounds from falling.  It wasn’t until the following summer that I was working 4 jobs to try and fund my junior year, eating carrots as snacks, turkey sandwiches for lunch and frappucinos for dinner (I don’t recommend the latter) that I returned to LU a size I’d never been in my life before: 2.  Nearly 10 years later, I am fitting into some of my clothes from that year in college and wondering how it is that I have managed to drop the weight so quickly (I was nearing a size 8 last summer) and can only attribute it to the fact that I have an outside force (Homeopathic allergy test) preventing me from eating foods I’d otherwise indulge regularly in (cheese, pasta, bread, eggs, beef, peanuts) and literally fill myself up on other foods and watching the weight continue to decrease instead of increase!  I’ve even dropped my days working out from 6 a week to 3 and have not only maintained but built strength in the fewer hours at a gym.

A LONG time ago, I wrote somewhere about how I saw food as a drug.  We are so careful to follow the instructions on meds prescribed by a doctor to help avoid adverse side effects, but we don’t even think about what the morsel of food on our fork might do to our weight, health, and future!  If I had continued down the dietary path I was on, there is a solid chance I would have become another cancer victim in my 40s.  While I still might…I will at least live from now until then with out a bloated stomach, regular head colds, and more energy than I had in my teens

So for those looking for the allergy test update, I am regularly encouraging all that I talk to to invest in it; it changed my life…for the better.

Canada Day!

Why DO you exist?!

Every year…this day rolls around and I find a number of individuals (Canadian and otherwise) who wonder WHY this day exists.  It has been compared to the American Independence Day…but Canada didn’t fight for this moment in history like the US so the word “independence” had no place.

So to all those who wondered what ever happened on July 1st in Canada to warrant a national holiday with fireworks and festivities, your answer reads below.

Until 1982, Canada day was known as “Dominion Day,” the day that celebrates the enactment of the British North American Act (now called the Constitution Act) which united three British Colonies into one empires called “Canada.”

Canada became a kingdom in its own right on that date but the British Parliament kept limited rights of political control over the new country that were shed by stages over the years until the last vestiges were surrendered in 1982 when the Constitution Act patriated the Canadian constitution.

While we no longer have any political ties to England, there are still strong emotional ties.  That is what brings the newly wed Prince William and Princess Kate to Canada today to celebrate with the country in our capital Ottawa (yes, that IS our capital, not Toronto for the day.

So to all those who are Canadian, like Canadians, or would want to be a Canadian; join us in celebrating the birth of the true North strong and free!

What are you doing here?

Not really a booming metropolis.  Especially once I tell people who ask, that I’m from here:

Worlds apart.

So what am I doing here?  That question is one that has been more frequently asked since my recent musical escapades at this fine establishment long the rivers edge you can see featured in the bottom right hand corner of the above picture of Lynchburg.

This little establishment has left a BIG mark on the restaurant industry in Lynchburg.  Jimmy, the owner, can be found every night the doors are open behind the Yamaha piano tucked in the corner of the restaurant singing Frank Sinatra, Ray Charles and easily being mistaken for any of those legendary men just sitting at the bar listening to the music.

I walked into Jimmy’s doors last November and quickly realized that my musical leaning were not Jazz/Blues but seeing a venue that would readily support my singer/songwriter material.  I charmed my way into their lives, and have been playing there ever since.  In the months that have gone by, on more than one occasion, guests have remarked that my abilities (along with Jimmy’s) exceed the limits of the tiny town that holds them and have often vocalized surprise that I am playing/living in this modest city.

I am there getting a PhD   That is what keeps me within the city limits and has kept me in the city limits for 15 years this coming fall: academia.  While I love music, and will continue to play, unless it takes me to a place where it demands more attention and affords more financially than a hobby, I will remain at this brilliant establishment on random nights throughout the week and continue to have people baffled wondering, what am I doing there…

Beyond Beautiful…”What I Need” in Dance

Stuart Coleman and Bronwyn Updike turned a song I wrote a year and a half ago, from an emotion that had me torn and broken, into a dance that relived a moment from my life better than it might have actually happened.

Stuart’s choreography took “What I Need” to a place it had never been before (but I hope it will return again one day!).  It so closely mirrored my life now, while the song itself reflected on a life from two years ago.  The medley of the two together was breathtaking.

When I started this musical journey in Oct of 2009, I had no idea where it was going to take me or how I was going to get there; I still don’t   I had merely been charged with the task of putting pen to paper, fingers to keys, and ideas to flight.  They have soared on so many occasions, but this song was one of my first and remains to this day one of the most powerful.

How often do we stop to consider what it is we need?  How often do we find ourselves in a dance with a partner that we believe, want to believe, are told to believe will carry us through all the motions only to find ourselves lifeless in their arms?

The music keeps moving, and we find ourselves stepping in sync to a beat we don’t know, a song we didn’t write, and a world we aren’t sure we want to be a part of.  Yet, that same motion can be one of the most beautiful; there is something magical about being carried away…

Once the video is complete you’ll see how easily she showed not only the beauty of the dance, but the complication of a dream that is unfulfilled, a life that needed chasing and a world that exists beyond the reaches of the space between what you want and what you need.

You can reach for the stars.  The choice is ours.

These two dancers brought the stars down to a little stage here in Lynchburg, and I will never forget this moment, that weekend, or the brilliance of this dance.  From the bottom of my heart to you Stuart for creating something so beautiful, you Bronwyn for portraying my life in ways I never could, and Cameron McNinch for seeing the beauty of this song long before I know how truly beautiful it was.

I love you.

Help me get on stage with U2…

Yes.  You read that correctly.  I WANT TO SING WITH BONO.

I have been doing solo performances for just over a year, have a fan base of just under 400 on Facebook and play regularly around this little town of Lynchburg; HOWEVER, I have covered “Running to Stand Still” in a way that I think might lead me to my childhood dream: Sharing a stage with U2

There is actually a particular stage I want to share: June 22nd in Baltimore Maryland.

Help this stateside Canadian make her childhood dream of performing with U2 come true!   Please help me promote this video and hopefully catch the attention of someone on U2′s management.  I have FOUR WEEKS!  Copy this link, post the YouTube video on websites you troll, any and all promotion is welcome!

HELP ME GET ON STAGE WITH U2!!

(you never know unless you try…)

Gala and “What I Need”

“The dreams I dream for you
Are deeper than the ones
you’re clinging to
More precious than the
finest things you knew
And truer than the
treasures you pursue
Let the old dreams die
Like stars that fade from view
Then take the cup I offer
And drink deeply of
The dreams I dream for you.”

As a little girl, I used to dream about singing.

(Yes, that's me to the left as a little girl)

I would shut my bedroom door in our three-bedroom, two-garage home in Toronto Suburbia and turn up the latest Oldie I had recorded onto Track A of a tape I scammed from somewhere or the latest artist my dad had purchased (generally Steve Green, Neil Diamond, or the Carpenters) and would sing along at the top of my lungs…almost…I didn’t actually want anyone hearing me because I wasn’t sure if I actually was any good; but in my mind I liked to pretend I was.

Nearly 20 years later, I completed one of my first songs from the EP “What I Need.”  That song led me to meeting one of my now greatest friends (and beautiful dancers) Cameron McNinch.

He fell in love with the song that was written out of frustration with someone who claimed he wanted to be a part of my life but did nothing to help make my life better; instead, pulled me into all his drama and ended up distracting me from the things I knew I truly wanted.  The hard part of that song was knowing that I cared for this person, and that is why it stung so badly to have them chastise and criticize the dreams I was chasing.  Something in that experience resonated with Cameron and we began talks of having students from the ballet school he taught at perform his choreographed interpretation of this song.

That was a year and a half ago.  Life got in the way.

True to the life I’ve led, I have placed my hopes and dreams in the Hands of my Heavenly Father, and so many of them have come true – especially in recent years – and this one will come true next weekend!!  I will be playing “What I Need” live, and Stuart Coleman is presently choreographing a beautiful piece that he will be performing while I play.  I am planning to go and watch them rehearse tonight, as I am certain there will be days of tears that I’ll need to dry up before the show.

For all those within driving distance of Lyncburg, VA, this will be the LAST show VSA performs as the doors will be closing after this.  Please make a point to come and see the show!  Tickets can be purchased by calling 434-847-8688!!

Dreams do come true