In which I’m so fucking healthy you would not even believe it.
I woke up before my alarm went off this morning. I did isometric exercises on the floor in my room. I took a shower. I made breakfast and ate it. I walked briskly to work. When I stopped for an iced latte, I even got soy milk. (Don’t worry, even though I’m a vegetarian I don’t eat enough soy for it to be dangerous. I have enough problems with my hormones as it is without introducing a bunch of phytoestrogens or a thyroid dysfunction into the mix!)
Last night at open mic, I did not order cheese fries. (I did have a few cocktails, though.) (I’m developing self-discipline, not spending a year dead for tax purposes.) Mmm, cheese fries!
I have no idea where all this motivation has come from, but I’m willing to admit that it might just be plain old vanity. I’ve noticed a trend that will, if left unchecked, have me waking up one morning shaped like a goddamned chicken (read: ball-shaped object on sticks) and I’m simply not into it. I’ve never really had a waist to speak of, but enough is enough.
In other news, RB is booking all sorts of gigs. Here’s what’s cookin’ so far:
- Apr 26 – Private party (Prescott)
- May 10 – Balloon Stampede (Walla Walla)
- May 23 – Dayton Days, Woody’s (Dayton)
- May 31 – Ice Harbor Brewing (Kennewick)
- June 21 – Wine & Wheels Festival (Roosevelt)
- Sept 13 – Mt Rainer Blues Jazz Wine & Brews Festival (Mineral)
(The boys’ gig calendar is here. I’m not necessarily doing all of the gigs listed.)
RB told me last night that he’s decided to bill me as ‘The New Queen of Blue-eyed Soul,’ which totally cracks me up. One rarely thinks of marketing oneself in such a way, but I suppose it’s just that sort of tagline that gets a girl gigs. And I like gigs. Now, if only the band members weren’t spread out all over two states it might be easier to actually practice together once in awhile.
One Response to Go, me. Yay. No, srsly.
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When you’re in Kennewick, you’ll be right at my old stomping grounds. When you cross the old bridge (BF Inter-county bridge) on your left and east (and right and west too) is where Dan & I played. The railroad bridge off in the distance we tried to cross one day and almost got killed by a highballing train coming from Pasco, it killed our dog. Your grandpa Morgan use to work as a bartender in the bar just a 100 yards from the bridge…called the Bridgeport Inn. It’s probably still there. Dan & I use to be left in the car for hours at a time in front of the place, until we made friends with the kid across the street.
We also use to deliver newspapers up and down the street where you’ll be playing your gig. Use to be lots of houses right on Columbia Drive back then. We lived in a trailer park between Bruneau and the RR tracks. Across the street lived an old guy with a large aspergus (sp?) field who use to come out of his house screaming at us for walking on his plants. Then one day he got so mad he unloaded a shotgun at us. Right next to the trailer park was a junk yard we use to sneak into all the time…lots of toys for kids.
Good times.
Wow. Shooting kids. If only we could still do that! -m