the bright side of 2am leftovers on a pull-out couch.

It is legit 2am.

I have a lot to say, but I’m not gonna lie… I’m tired…slightly buzzed…and extremely full on the Thai leftovers I had from yesterday’s lunch.

I’ll say this though…

Today was a good day.  A really, really good day.

I got to sing background vocals alongside 2 complete, MONSTER vocalists, whom I admire to the utmost degree…Vickie Carrico and Scat Springs.  The artist, Brandon Calhoon, is a friend of mine from here in Nashville but is actually a fellow Detroit rocker.  The album is being produced by my producer, Jim “Moose” Brown.  So overall, it truly was a dream.

A dream, and yet, initially, very intimidating.  Vickie and Scat are the definition of “pro”…their range, their ability the find parts, their ability to always stay on pitch, their ability to create parts that you don’t even know are there… it’s incredible.  I should know…they sang backgrounds on my entire album.

The fact that I was called to sing WITH them was daunting.  It’s crazy how we doubt our abilities sometimes.  Like, maybe we’re not as good as we think we are.  I know I’ve done it to myself plenty of times over the years.  It’s good for us though.  The difference is though, now, I can push through the insecurity and just sing/say/write exactly what comes into my brain and people trust it and follow my lead.  It’s a crazy concept but it’s seeming to work.  Today was magical.

I’m grateful for the opportunities I’ve gotten at this point/age/stage in  life.  I’m thankful that people believe in me.  I’m thankful that I’m FINALLY back to a place where I’m believing and trusting in myself again.  Because there was a long stretch of time where I didn’t.  And it was miserable.  And I was stagnate because of it.  But I’m good.  I’m better than good.  I own my shit and I shouldn’t apologize or speak meekly about it.  No one is ever gonna fight for me like me.

No one is ever gonna fight for you like you.

This week in Nashville has been exhausting on a lot of levels.  Emotionally, I feel drained from giving friends advice and worrying about things that really don’t have anything to do with me.  But I want them to be happy.  So I carry their burdens, regardless if they asked me to or not.  Physically, I’ve been singing my ass off a large majority of the time, and afterwards, engaging in social life talks/wine-vodka consumption til late hours.  So I’m definitely tired.

But overall, I’m just so, so thankful.  Honestly.

I’m thankful that I get these calls to make music.  I’m thankful that people want to write songs with me.  I’m thankful that I don’t have to deal with the dating bullshit/lower any standards/the excuses/the douchebaggery anymore.  I’m thankful that tomorrow morning, I get to load up my car and drive 8 hours north and obsess over my brand new baby niece, and my other sister’s big pregnant belly that’s due in 2 weeks, my beautiful Granny, my boyfriend who is greater than any words will express, and my dogs that hopefully have missed me all week.

For the first time ever, I can sit on a pull out couch, with “Dateline” playing in the background, and my left-over container stinking up the room and say… “Hey, this life is pretty fucking grand.”  And isn’t that the dream…?  It might not look the same to everybody, but if you’ve got it, hold it…build from it. It won’t fail you if you don’t let it go.  IMG_2373IMG_2353IMG_2342IMG_2290IMG_2190IMG_2187





Babies and boob rash.

I should be sleeping.

Or reviewing the songs that I’m supposed to sing in the morning.

But instead of listening to those audio files, succumbing to the Benadryl I popped an hour ago, and resting my body after a 500 mile drive today… I felt like blogging.  Briefly.

In case you missed it…

I became “Auntie Ray Ray” to a beautiful and perfect 8 lb 4 oz, 21 inch long baby girl, named Adalynn Mae.  The reality is that there’s an actual baby, in the world, being held and/or admired by someone right now.  And a few days ago, it was in my sister’s stomach… I mean…I’m still in shock.  And if I’m in shock, I can only imagine what my little sister and my brother in law are feeling.  But I guess that’s how babies work, right?  They live inside a belly, you get to watch your sister’s belly grow and grow, joke about how you’re finally the skinniest sister for months on end, and then…they go to a hospital and push a watermelon through a nostril.

Yeah, that made me cringe a little too.

I’m overwhelmed with love.  Watching my sister waddle around her house in a robe and sit on a donut everywhere she goes.  Seeing her husband talk about how many times the baby has pooped that day.  Watching my nephew, Nolan, snuggle her and give her head kisses.  Seeing my near 89 year old granny’s face light up, talking baby talk as she holds her, and then quickly handing her off once she starts to cry.

And to think… all these moments of love/adoration/terror/shock will be repeated for my family when my other sister gives birth in 3 weeks to my new nephew.

This is real life, people.

There was clearly something in the water, and thankfully, I stuck with vodka.  Who needs water…?

Yesterday was my baby sister’s baby shower.  I made my boyfriend go.  It was quite comical.  And it was excellent birth control.

And then this morning, I packed up my car again and drove down to Nashville.  Several big recording sessions this week, a couple co-writes, and some much needed time to re-group.  However, I have this weird heat rash going on…and my side boob looks like a burn victim or something.  It’s sexy.  The dried up Cortizone cream on my arm pit is even better.  So, if you see me this week, I’ll be wearing turtlenecks and ankle skirts…and reporting home to the compound.  Just kidding.  My hair isn’t long enough for a ‘sister wife’ braid yet.

And shit… The Golden Girls are on.

Thanks for reading my ramble of a blog tonight.

Maybe the Benadryl IS kicking in.

I promise to be more “prolific” next time 😉

Goodnight ❤