Carrie Underwood+Ravinia Festival in Highland Park, IL = someone needed to do some research
So J and I went to see Carrie Underwood (what? I love her) at Ravinia, an outdoor, Tanglewood-like venue in a northern suburb of Chicago. A very Jewish northern suburb of Chicago. But that comes into play later.
Ms. Underwood was wonderful. She has a tremendous voice and she definitely uses it well. She put on a great show. The only eenie weenie little snafu was during the song “Jesus, Take the Wheel”, when Carrie said to the (almost entirely) Jewish audience “I don’t know y’all’s faith, but this song means a lot to me and I’d love it if y’all would sing along”. Well, Carrie…you’re not gonna get a whole lot of Jesus singing in Jewishland. It was a sad silence that faced her when she turned her mic towards the audience. Not in a spiteful way, just in a “hmm…okay…Jesus songs don’t really mean the same thing to us as they do to you…when are you going to play ‘Before He Cheats’?” kind of mentality. Poor gal was probably on her tour bus later on thinking to herself What the hell WAS that?
Lesson to be learned: Know your demo before you ask for Jesus singalongs.
Also: Don’t save “Before He Cheats” for the encore.
I’ve lost the will to work this afternoon. I’m re’t to jet outta here.
Surprisingly, I feel okay about my show tonight. I’m not dreading it. I will be happy once it’s over. But it should be fun. No pressure, really. Just people coming out to support. They’ll love it (hopefully) no matter what I do. And if I mess up, I mess up. It doesn’t matter.
Even if they hate it. It doesn’t matter.
I will go home and get dressed (what should I wear? Hmmmm) and be on my way. And this ball of nerves will go away eventually.
I decided to get a scramble instead of my originally intended upon over-mediums. Wasn’t as good as it could have been. Well, no, the eggs were great…I just wasn’t as into it as I would have had I gone with my first choice. That’s indecision for you. Oh well.
My show at Schuba’s is tomorrow and it’s the point in pre-show week where I get all freaked out and nervous. During these times, I dread the next day, wonder why I do these things to myself and ignore all excited “I’m coming to your show!” emails, texts and messages. You may ask, why do you do this if you hate it so much?
I don’t hate the performing aspect, most of the time…when it’s good, it’s really good and a fun release. I hate the anticipation and pressure of it and that’s enough to make me dread even the most benign show booking. I’ve tried not to do it, I barely perform as it is nowadays…but I get this itch. This artist itch. The need to sing and perform and get my songs out there. Much as I hate it, it is ingrained in me. I do view the ability to sing as a gift from heredity or god or whom/whatever and every so often I get a big urge to use it. Singing in the shower or while you’re doing dishes just isn’t always enough.
I need to get over myself, really. This won’t be anything but fun. Right? Right?
“If getting hammered and hanging out on (read: falling down) a spiral staircase were part of the tradition of Rosh Hashanah, believe me, Jonny and I would be there. Alas, we’ll be in New York, eating apples and honey and preparing to atone for our sins.”—my RSVP to my friends Griff and Allie’s housewarming party (they’re very excited about the spiral staircased loft in their condo).
I’m so freaking tired, it’s ridiculous. I was a waste of a person last night…after passing out on both my to and from commutes and yawning countless times throughout the day, I arrived home and basically laid like a lox on the couch all night. I wasn’t even hungry for dinner and just had cereal. Jonny was a sweetheart and let me be, handling Jessa’s walks for the rest of the night. We got into bed at 10 (later than I wanted to thanks to laundry and some training of Jess, who’s now terrified of the baby gate and all areas surrounding it), and, despite Tila Tequila walking around with what I’m sure must be very high hooker heels, I fell right asleep. Someone who shall remain nameless (hint: this nameless one walks on all fours) decided to get up and try to play at 2am, then again at 3am. Needless to say, stunted sleep is never fun.
So here I am, falling asleep at my desk, about to continue with a project so tedious it probably will not help my current situation. Suffice it to say, I’m going to be a bitch-fest all morning.
Interesting that the grad school topic is going around Tumblr right now...
I just registered for my first class in the Business Administration Certificate Program. Not quite grad school, but enough to get me well-acquainted with business practices. T’will help with my job now, and also (hopefully) help me learn more about opening my own business…
…yarn store, here I come. I’m gonna make it a reality, peops. Truly, I am.
Speaking of, I have a new “Knit your Shit” item to post…I’ll do it soon. Yay!
Jonny was out and about all day…leaving our little one to hang out in the gated hallway. Not one accident! What a good girl.
I got home and took her out for a walk in the pouring rain. You’d have thought I was dragging her to her death. But we discovered that if we walk through the neighboring building’s parking lot that we can stay covered most of the time, so that worked out well. Jess did what she needed to do and we promptly went back in. No fussing. It was good.
Then came dinner-time, when we left to go out and debated putting her in the crate or giving her yet more gated hallway time. We chose the latter, completely expecting to return home to a big puddle (and possibly a pile).
Nada! Nothing! Just our sweet Jess, happy to see us, behaving beautifully.
I tell you, people…it’s a miracle! Let’s hope it lasts…
So I got dressed this morning in an ensemble that I quite liked. It was a little pattern-y, but it was fun. It was a black and white patterned blouse with a floral patterned pencil skirt. Pencil skirt was a little tight, but manageable.
Manageable until I got in my car, that is.
I sat down and my breath was immediately forced out of me, due to the ridiculous constricting of the waistband on my midsection. There was pain…oh yes, there was pain. This hot little pencil skirt became a big bubble of material filled to the seams with my body, as it yelled at me “HEY….HAVING SOME PROBLEMS OVER HERE!!! MAYBE YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE HAD THAT MAC N’ CHEESE AT DINNER! I DON’T GIVE A SHIT IF YOU WERE IN A FANCY RESTAURANT. MAC N’ CHEESE IS MAC N’ CHEESE!.”
Though it meant leaving a little later than I wanted and confusing the shiz out of Jessa, I had to go up and change. Black billowy skirt it is, today. Comfort over fashion, for sure.