anyone else hungover? and it’s not even the holidays. i haven’t even begun to eat painfully unhealthy food, sleeping late, staying up late, laying around in a turkey coma. all that stuff is still yet to come, and my body feels like it has already been abused. i need two days in bed, and then i’d be just fine. but that’s not how life goes. and even if i had that kind of time, i wouldn’t be able to stay in bed, especially with the weather being so incredible here.
what i really want to do? i’m doing it right now. i’m sitting in a cafe called “eggscetera” in brookside. the most beautiful neighborhood. i’ve always said if i had to choose to live in paris or brookside ~ i would choose brookside. it is stunning. i like to drive through the tree-lined streets and check out the houses for sale, and envision me moving into one. these are older homes, so i don’t go any further with my dreams, like the amount of work and money it would take to clean out gutters, replace old windows, and just furnish the place. but someday, the hub and i will probably make that leap, and it will most likely be brookside.
this is a cozy breakfast place, with nice people working here, and incredibly delicious food. it’s my favorite thing to do: to sit in a cafe, drink coffee, and wax poetic.
not that this blog entry is in ANY way poetic. i’m too brain-dead to be artistic.
i was last night, as well, during my rehearsal. and i could tell that the director was disappointed in me. i told him i had been feeling exhausted and not in a good vocal place lately, and he said, “how do you feel tonight?” okay, i get it. you’re wondering why i’m not perfect for you, maestro. i love this person dearly, and i can really be honest with him. i didn’t want to get into it, so i just said, “i’m still feeling really yucky”. end of story.
dare i say that it hurts my feelings that this biz expects you to be perfect all the time? it’s too much pressure. and for what? i barely make enough money to afford my 1997 blackberry. obviously, i’m exaggerating ~ there were no blackberries in 1997. only the fruits. those were the days.
anyway, i’m writing this post today on behalf of my singer friends, of whom i have many. sharon, amy, lindsey, toni, denise, and on and on ~ this is for you.
feeling used? feeling depleted? wish you could sit in the church service, rather than sing in the choir? wish you could have a voice lesson yourself, instead of giving 25 of them a week? wish you had enough money at the end of the week to say, “i’m a singer and voice teacher. i am successful and i make money doing what i love.”
i’m supposed to appreciate the fact that i do get as much work as i do, even when i make pennies at all my gigs, except for a few a year that really pay well. i do appreciate all the work i get, but i’m about to turn 40 and i’m ready to GET PAID, Y’ALL. is that a bad attitude? i want you to get paid too, singer friends.
i know. i know. i picked the wrong business. well, i didn’t really pick it ~ it picked me. and i think i can make more money doing what i do. i just need to rethink. i need to get off my duff and get more enterprising. i have lots of ideas. i need to bring them to reality. they’re not doing any good in my brain. make a CD, write a book about singing, find a teaching job that pays more, become an agent in kansas city, do something!!!
the number one complaint i hear about singers is: they can’t read music very well. i’d love to think of a way to eliminate that. a book teaching singers how to read, a program that teaches theory/sight-singing in a way that singers would actually get it and use it, i don’t know. something.
or maybe i should do that pixy pies thing. baking. so wonderful. love it. maybe i could make my pixy pies gluten-free or healthy in some way? hmmm…
i’m tired of just wallowing. i’m ready to do something great.