Grown Up in NYC

As I prepare to make the big move from the Big Apple to the Windy City, the Big Apple is perhaps showing Chicago for what it may be, just wind. Until now, I have not been able to enjoy NYC as a 21 year old. Well, thank God for friends and a whetted appetite for a more mature hang out scene. Needless to say, my girls and I have hit up a few clubbing scenes in the NYC and we have never left disappointed! There is something about the excitement as one peruses the colorful aisles of stores such as Forever 21 for a great clubbing outfit. Or is the realization that one can host tails at one's house before going out without a guilty bone in one's body? Hmmm...perhaps it is the strategic planning of how to push all cosmetics, comfortable shoes, a cell phone, and a wallet into a very small and fashionable purse? No, I'd say it is the feeling one gets when she steps into that club with her stilletos on, her girls by her side, a drink on the horizon (try the "Incredible Hulk"--it hits the spot), the engulfing nature of the music, and the possibility of meeting some very interesting dance partners.

Ladies Night.

There could be nothing better than a group of best friends playing policeman over each other so as to prevent an unwanted dance partner (key strategies: rotating your dancing circle, a slight disgusted look on your face, or boldly telling a guy that your best friend is not interested. plain and simple).....BUT they also know when you want to indulge a partner and then leave you to your own tango. Words cannot do justice for such an experience with such discerning ladies.

In the end, your girls had your back enough to take a great picture of you and the greatest dance partner you have ever encountered. These pictures end up on facebook, which genuinely bring a smile to your face (as well as a multitude of hilarious comments) as you realize how blessed you are to have your.....( and I will only allow myself to write this once).... ride or die chicks (don't judge me).

Amen.

May every girl be so blessed to have a best friend, a dance partner, a police(wo)man, a drinking partner, a shoe/bag watcher, a bathroom buddy, and a hype girl all in a couple of girls that you choose to go out with....for ladies night.

Big ups: Anike, Karen, and Destiny.
Absentee big ups: Jessie, Louisa, and Aimee.

Thank you for being my police(wo)men.

And thank you, NYC.

Kurt Elling...be still my foolish heart!

Nothing can be better than a summer Sunday evening experience that consists of a nice, cool, dark NY jazz club (re: Birdland), a crab cake sandwich, some bubbly black cherry soda, and the smooth sultriness of Kurt Elling's voice. He is the ideal to a developing musician (re: ME!). He walks on to the stage with a mischievous smirk as he plans to seduce all of his listeners into a love that will end up being unrequited because well folks... he's married and has a kid (I know...I cried too).
It was my pleasure to hear my absolute favorite Kurt Elling piece which consists of questions that can only be answered by the wonders of God....How did smoke learn how to fly? Where to birds go off to die? Why does coal sleep in darkness? Do dreams live in apart-ness? Is a number forever? Where's the soul of the water? How old is Old November? No one here can remember. If I die, where does time go? Do the bees feel vertigo? To get love is there potion? Or is love only motion?

Really? Really? Be still my foolish heart! Kurt Elling is the reason why I still listen to jazz. He embodies all that I have ever wanted in a male voice. His range is ridiculous, his timbre is stone cold rugged (yet clear), his lyrics make you dream, and his presence is that of your favorite/coolest uncle.

I can only dream to be that great. Too bad he didn't remember me when I went up to him and tried to jog his memory of having sung for him a little more than a year ago in a masterclass he conducted at Dartmouth. Honestly, I was a little disappointed, but then I remembered: He's Kurt Elling! Everyone who hears his voice falls in love with him and that is why it took me like 15 minutes to get a chance to speak to him. He's not going to remember little ole me...but one day he may. And on that day, my foolish heart will stand still.

Blackbird With the Blackberry

As my padre was telling me a story, I drifted into a fantasy world which ended with a very profound question that needed immediate attention: Was I due for an upgrade on my phone plan? I apologized to my padre for not paying attention and I explained to him the depth of my question and he said the most magical words known to my little tympanic membranes (well...pinnas to be exact): you should get a blackberry. Now, surprisingly, that had never crossed my mind. But once the words escaped his mouth, I was on a mission. Needless to say, 24 hours later, I am the proud owner of a new pink blackberry pearl. Some might ask: what does she need a blackberry for? She's only going to be a musician, not a businesswoman. And my answer is: I need a blackberry because my padre is telling me to grow up (take that). And musicians are business people as well--don't sleep on us. Blessing the world with our talents is a BIG business. All this to say that the blackbird is happy with her blackberry. She shall sing in the dead of night...and check her email at the same time.

Moses Was Special/Yahweh is My Middle C

I always knew that Moses was a special guy. I guess I am not the only one, but there has always been something about Moses that jumped out at me. More than David, more than Abraham, more than Isaac, more than Jacob, and more than the disciples. Moses and I have a special connection probably because I have felt like Moses throughout college, or the fact that facebook's "what Biblical Character Are You" application said I was a Moses, or maybe that "The King of Egypt" is one of my favorite movies. I don't know, but I woke up and started reading Max Lucado's "Traveling Light" and he writes that Jesus never told Abraham and others his real name, which is "Yahweh". However, God told Moses that his name was "Yahweh". Every other Biblical personality that I know of called God by his title such as "El Shaddai" or "El Olyon" or "El Olam", while Moses knew God by His name: Yahweh. Isn't that something. Moses was special. He was the underdog, insecure, anxious, and hopeless, YET God chose him to do a mighty work. God can use ANYONE!!!! Moses is my hero. As I go into the real world wondering if I am up to what I have been chosen to do, I will remember Moses.

Now...onto the idea that is on the right of my title's slash: Yahweh is My Middle C. Max Lucado is speaking the truth. This phrase means that God is an unchanging God. And Max phrased it in a musician's terminology--just my cup of tea. God is My Middle C.
"That's middle C! It was middle C yesterday; it will be middle C tomorrow; it will be middle C a thousand years from now. The tenor upstairs sings flat. The piano across the hall is out of tune, but my friend, that is middle C." (Lucado, pg. 15). God is just like that and it is a simple phenomenon that we tend to forget when life's storms hit us and disorient us. God is always the same--there are countless scriptures that say that. I take this to heart because life continues to change for me whether it is the death of a loved one, graduation, my move to Chicago, my new music career, etc--through all of that, God is that unchanging middle C. Amen.

Corporate Recruiting? YIKES!!!!

So, it's been about 2 weeks since graduation and I have applied to a multitude of jobs over the Internet. All seemed hopeless until I checked my email tonight and found some responses from 3 corporations I have sent my resume to. A bit scary, I must say. I am planning on pursuing music next year. Not business. However, I need a job and I am always ready to expand my skill set. Who said music didn't involve business? It is just a scary thing to realize that 2 seemingly opposing worlds are tugging at your time and dedication for the upcoming months. Shooot....my school didn't even have a business major. I am a liberal arts musician trying to find some employment....but who said I couldn't try my hand at some business? Everyday I realize that this upcoming year is going to be a whirlpool of new opportunities. May God give me the strength to continue to indulge my adventurous heart and state of mind. This world is mine!

(Let's see if I feel this way tomorrow...)

life lessons

I woke up to a life lesson this morning. I know you expect me to tell you, but the life lesson is not so much important as the fact that it was a life lesson (I sound a little bit like McCain, huh?). Literally, five minutes after opening my eyes, my padre was ready to supply his daughter with a life lesson. Sometimes I forget that although I am a Dartmouth graduate (with honors) and have persevered this year's emotional and life altering tornadoes, I know everything. Boy did I get off my high horse this morning. It is always a blessing to have someone to humble you even if it is a little bit embarrassing. Better my padre than a friend who doesn't want to talk to me ever again. Better my padre than my boss, right? and for this I am tremendously grateful. What would life be if we knew everything? There would be no time to sit back and reflect...and then write a blog about it : ) My life is beginning to unfold and the carpet is rolling into a new doorway, a new city, a new focus, a new career, a new list of life lessons. and for this I am tremendously grateful. During my morning of reflection, I came across another life lesson in a book my older brother gave me for graduation: Letters to a Young Poet.

Being an artist means, not reckoning and counting, but ripening like the tree which does not force its sap and stands confident in the storms of spring without the fear that after them may come no summer. It does come. But it comes only to the patient, who are there as though eternity lay before them, so unconcernedly still and wide.

Thank you, Mr. Rainer Maria Rilke.

For you, I am grateful.

The -itis

That is...the tonsilitis. It sucks to have it and to go around sounding like Marge Simpson. Actually...sometimes it is pretty entertaining, but most of the time it is annoying. It is ironic that once I can totally set my mind upon my singing and writing of music, my tonsils decide to have a competition to see who can become the largest. I have never had swollen tonsils until now. I have to take these white, large pills every 12 hours. wonderful. Well...I guess better now than when I move to the Chi and actually have to put my throat to the test. But still...what about the simple appeal of singing along to the radio or in the shower. gone. or marge simpson style. whichever. Not to mention that my taking Bayer aspirin has resulted in simultaneous nose bleeds. sheesh. Can a girl enjoy her post-graduation week in style???? SHE SURE CAN!!!! I have been lounging and indulging my lazy endeavors. Not to mention a visit to the Cotton Club in Harlem last night with my best friend. I shall not be defeated by throat pain! Amen. Whether I sound like Marge Simpson or Tamia, I have the Itis or complete health, I have random nose bleed floods or clean shirts, I am having the time of my life. Best be sure. SOrry Ash- Would have loved to go see Kid Sister in Central Park with you today, but rest calls summons these sorry tonsils of mine. Hope you all are enjoying the simple things of life as well!