2016: Year In Review

I so don't want to join in on all the "Fuck you, 2016" sentiment that's going around right now, but I have to admit that it is hard not to hate a year that brought us President-Elect Donald Trump, and took from us George Michael, Carrie Fisher, Alan Rickman, David Bowie, Leonard Cohen, and a host of other luminaries. 

Sometimes I see social media posts from my circle of friends and acquaintances, and they make me want to weep. Even worse, they make me want to give up. My goal for the coming year is to try and find a way to be informed while still staying positive. I don't want to be a Nero/Pollyanna, endlessly fiddling while Rome burns, but if all we ever point out is the dark, the despairing, the apocalyptic... aren't we feeding the beast? No, wait- I'm going to be more declarative on this one: We ARE feeding the beasts of negativity, despair, hopelessness, and apathy if all we notice and write about are the bad things that surround us. It's all too easy to be a dark tourist in this life, watching the world crumble and posting things like "We're all doomed." But it takes real guts to see the world at its worst and face it with humour (sometimes very black humour indeed) and hope, and then to actually take action against the things that scare us. Some of my friends have faced unimaginable pain in their lives and emerged angry and fierce and funny, dammit. They are my inspiration as we limp into 2017.

For me personally, 2016 was actually not a bad year at all. I am- still- lucky enough to love and be loved by a really wonderful person. I have a great relationship with my parents and sibling. I grew to like teaching more and more, and for the first time in ages, I made enough money to live on comfortably. I'm still living with family/roommates, which keeps my rent low, and I'm even starting to look for my own place, which I crave. But I love my house, and I love my neighbourhood, so I have the luxury of having lots of time to find my own digs. Considering the current Vancouver rental market, that's a damn good thing. 

(Although doing a post like this may seem self-indulgent, I like writing them, because I'm often reminded of events and occasions I'd totally forgotten.)
Here we go then, the year in review:

January: I dragged myself out of the sleepy torpor created by almost a month off, and got back to work, albeit reluctantly. I screwed up the courage to back out of a gig that I really didn't want to do, and felt nothing but relief once I did. But, as my sweetheart always says, I am the busiest lazy person he knows; I helped him to move apartments by finding him a place (Facebook luck) and by unpacking and helping to set up his new home. 

February: Halfway through the month I dived happily into rehearsals for a new play. It reminded me that although teaching puts food on the table and is becoming more and more fun, theatre really feeds my soul. The process for this show required everyone to be onstage for the entire performance, and also to be at all rehearsals, all the time. What could have been arduous was simply wonderful. I happily took the bus to rehearsals, and it was the perfect time to be working 6 days a week, because it barely ever stopped raining. 

March: My show opened, to good reviews and decent houses. I got the chance to work at a theatre I'd never worked at before (The Firehall Arts Centre). During this busyness, I was also rehearsing for an album release concert, and of course, I was still teaching as well, both privately and at a music school. 

April: The album release concert happened, and it sounded beautiful, although it could have been better-attended. I worked, trained for a Standardized Patient roleplaying gig, and learned to make yoghurt, a feat I have only attempted twice since. 

May: "This life I wanted to build for myself in Vancouver? It's happening." I wrote last May. I was realizing that, much as I may miss my crazy life up north doing interpretive theatre in a gold rush ghost town, my new life is rich and I have no regrets about turning my back on that world. (Except that I wish I could visit, but it's so remote and expensive.) I went to Victoria to see friends, played gigs, got a volunteer gig ushering so I could see more theatre. 

June: The day after my music school job ended, I jumped on a plane and flew to Saskatoon for the second summer in a row, to work for a different theatre company for 6 weeks doing theatre-in-the-park. Our play was a Cree story, and I got to work with indigenous actors, do workshops with youth, play 6 different instruments, go to a sweat lodge, and reaaallllly get to know parks all over Saskatoon. I had also made a strong commitment to getting healthy, and this was helped immeasurably by the fact that I had to bike and walk everywhere while I was away. I loved doing the show, and I loved being back in Saskatoon, my new second home. 

July: This month gave me the rare gift of being able to focus on one job for a while, while getting to know my second home a little bit better. Despite weather that was often more like Vancouver's than Saskatoon's, we were only rained out twice. I took the plunge and got my hair cut. Then I cut it even shorter. I started to be very aware of the discrepancy between my idyllic life and the injustices that were giving rise to hashtags like #BlackLivesMatter. 

August: Flew back home, went to a job interview (quite hungover), and managed to secure a new job, teaching music to preschoolers, which was not something I knew anything about. Decided to procrastinate like hell on that one, and enjoy my month off to the hilt. There was a great deal to enjoy: I made a music video of one of my songs (or rather, two lovely people made it; I drank a lot of wine and sang along to a recording of myself over and over); a cousin of mine came over from the UK and we all made a trip up to the Okanagan to have some wonderful family time (plus, I learned to rock climb); and my lover and I spent several blissful weeks house-sitting a converted barn in Fort Langley. We also spent a lot of time working, because we discovered to our surprise that our creation, Little Ali Fox, was one of ten finalists in the Ottawa Animation Festival's Pitch This! event, and therefore we needed to raise funds so that Jay could travel to Ottawa. I continued to run a lot, and because we were living in the middle of nowhere, I also used my bicycle a great deal. It was blissful. 

September: Holy switching gears, Batman! I transitioned from rural life: dirt between my toes, homegrown veggies, river swimming... to so many new challenges. My music school underwent a huge shift in its way of operating which ultimately benefitted me greatly, as I was able to use my skills as a multi-instrumentalist rather than just being a reluctant piano teacher. I began teaching preschool music at another music school, a job I hated for several months until I got on top of it (more or less) and learned to love it. I started playing ukulele  On top of this, I went back to school as a student, taking a psychology class at Capilano University. which is one of the prerequisite courses of the Music Therapy program.  On top of all this, I decided that there was JUST NO WAY that Jay should go to Ottawa for this animation festival without me. So I impulsively bought a plane ticket and went with him for 31 hours. Which was AMAZING. Expensive, but amazing. We didn't win Pitch This!, but it was still worth it. 

October: More work, more music, more running. I really enjoyed my new band, which I formed in the fall when the old folk band dissolved due to members moving away. I bought a U-bass, which I love playing, both at the music school and in my band. Music, music, music. And Psych 100, which I loved, to my surprise. 

November: Man, what can I say about a month in which we watched a narcissistic orange get elected president? We all felt the world collectively cringe. We all struggled to feel any hope at all. 

December: Somewhat to my surprise: It snowed!!! (The ground, over 20 days later, is still more white than green.) In fact, this is the first white Christmas in Vancouver that I can remember. Also to my surprise: I got an A minus in my Psych class (maybe because my exam was delayed by a day. THANK YOU, SNOW.) I finished schools of all sorts, and dived happily into doing fuck-all for 3 weeks. Oh, and I decided to set myself a fitness challenge and try to run every day for 30 days. Aaaannnnd, the gods said:
Ha
ha
ha
ha 
ha.
But hey, I ran over 10 times! So it wasn't quite as impressive as I had hoped, but I still ran way more than I usually do.  
I got to score a short film, which was a blast. I attended, and participated in, my music school's Christmas concerts, and felt more love for my work than ever before. It's a complicated, frustrated love at times, but hey, what love isn't? 
Oh, and Christmas! I love Christmas! 

And by the way, if we're speaking of love... I have to give major kudos to Jay for his amazing ideas, his crazy work ethic, and the way he gives 110% to everything. I love you with the passion of a thousand fiery suns, to quote from the podcast I'm listening to as I write this. Also my friends, both the ones I talk to on Facebook, and the ones I actually, you know, see. 

That was my year. Welcome to 2017, folks. In the spirit of hope, I hope I'll see you all next year. Be fierce. Be funny. Above all, stay alive. I love you. 

Bro & sis-in-law have left town again, so I'm back at their downtown pad with these guys:

"Breakfast. NOW."

"I only lie on the floor when I'll be right in your way."

It's a nice life. I need the space and solitude to get some big assignments done for school, so this 4-day Easter weekend away from home is a godsend. I have the peace to get my work done, and having a dog around means that I have to take breaks from work and get out in the spring sunshine. It's all about balance, baby. Being right downtown among the water and the parks and the coffee shops is also great. (I know, we have all of those things in abundance in my neighbourhood too, but it's nice to experience some different ones). I got up at 8 this morning, walked the dog for half an hour, came home and ate breakfast, and worked for 4 hours on my arranging assignment. Then another dog-walk, followed by internet browsing and blogging. I have a band gig late tonight so it's nice to be mellow this afternoon.

The end is nigh, at least where school is concerned. If I can get through this week then there will be little else to worry about in the way of assignments. I only have a few exams and although of course I'll be studying I'm not worried about any of them. The luxury of doing well all year is that I don't have a lot of last-minute cramming to do. I'll be getting ready for my move up north once school winds down, and taking a short road-trip with my mom. We only live hours away from Seattle, and I haven't spent any time there for years. We'll be going to this restaurant and this bar which are owned by my favourite food blogger. We'll be roaming the halls of Pike Place Market, which pops up, wildly altered,  in my dreams from time to time. Basically the whole 3 days in Seattle will be about eating and long walks, which are me and Mom's two absolute favourite things in the world. (Here's hoping that the long walks cancel out some of the eating!) Oh, and we may try to find a museum or a play or a concert to take in as well, if we can fit it into our busy schedule of walking and eating.

It's almost 5 o'clock. Almost time to leave my little piece of paradise downtown for the wilds of East Van and some Turkish Gypsy pop. Happy Easter.

Out Like a Lion

March has decided- with a vengeance- to be lion-like this week, although as one of my friends said on Facebook, it's high time for it to, and I quote here: "lamb the hell up". Well said, Danette.
Seriously, it's epic, folks. Wind! Torrential Rain! More wind! Brilliant sunshine! Warmth! Cold! Actual freakin' snow this morning! How's a girl supposed to dress?
Vancouver in March is how I imagine life with a toddler to be: hours of excruciating annoyance punctuated by moments of sheer joy. Suddenly I love my neighbourhood again and I want to be outside all the time so I can photograph things like this:

This? This is why I live here.

But for every one of these days, which bring sunsets like this:

...there are still days of stultifying greyness. (Greyness not pictured here, as I never take my camera out on days like that. There should actually be no record of them, in my opinion.)

Yesterday? Was awesome. A short day at school with fun classes, followed by my first ever session with a personal trainer who is helping to whip me into some sort of shape (a smaller, thinner shape, hopefully) before I go away in a month and a half. I feel really, really pretentious saying that I have a personal trainer, sorry. Does it help if I explain that it's my friend Leslie, who as well as being a fitness maven is also a blues singer par excellence? And she's giving me a fantastic rate? And she trains people in her house, where your every move is avidly watched by two obese cats? Anyway, Leslie is great, and she worked with me for an hour yesterday and then, fuelled by some kind of endorphin madness from the exercise, I walked downtown in the spring sunshine and met my brother and sis-in-law for an evening of socializing which included 4 large and interesting cocktails. This is the life, I thought blearily as I lapped up Margarita number 2 in the sunny window of a Mexican restaurant with my kin. This is Spring in Vancouver! Truly I am blessed. 

And then I woke up this morning and dragged myself out of bed. I felt like I'd been hit by a fucking train decidedly less perky today. Muscles I didn't know I had were stiff and sore. I sucked miserably at a theory assignment, an assignment which had to be played in front of the entire class. I was so tired that I was teary all day. Classic case of overdoing it. 

Clearly, March felt that the sunshine and balminess of yesterday was overdoing it as well, because we had snow this morning. Although I have to say that things improved as the day wore on. Weather-wise, at least. My mood will only improve once I've had a very long sleep. And no more cocktails for at least a week. 

Water with lemon and rosemary. It's the new coffee!

familiarity.

The hallways, once a blur of noise and confusion that I scuttled through, head down, are still noisy, but I am part of that noise now, and comfortable in it. I know that it's easiest to find free practice rooms when the guitar/bass ensemble rehearses (because there are more guitarists and bassists than any other instrumentalists or singers at this school). I know that high up on the 5th floor are cubicles where I can sit for hours and finish my homework in the endless break between classes, listening intently to drum patterns or chord progressions while staring out at the treetops and the rain. I know that it's better to work in the small dark computer lab than to try and get work done in the big lab, where kids are blasting YouTube videos of jazz bands at top volume and laughing uproariously at their own witty remarks. I know when there are odd days I can skip school and get more work done at home, and when I absolutely need to be there. I know to avoid the cafeteria, with its overpriced, lousy-quality food, and bring my own snacks. I still go to the library, but less. More to browse and borrow in the fiction section than to hide away from it all.
I am a music school survivor: I have great marks, I do good work, I perform well, I have friends. People have dropped out: broken bones, bad marks, carpal tunnel, lack of interest. I wish I could go back and tell my September/October self to chill out, but of course I can't. I can only hope that come Fall, when I start new classes and a new routine, I will remember this hard-won wisdom and not have to start from scratch once again.

Gig Madness!

It's come and almost gone, the weekend I was dreading. Three gigs, all of them challenging in their own way, and all of them were fantastic. Not, always, technically the best playing or the purest singing. But at every one of them I found things to delight in, whether it was the joy of trying something new (playing accordion in a leather mask, anyone?), reviving an old band with a bunch of friends  (Flying Folk Army!) or winning over a crowd of jazz fans on a sunny deck (Pender Harbour Jazz Fest)... it was busy, and exciting, and exhausting too (I got about 2 hours' sleep last Friday night).
So once again I feared something because it seemed too challenging, too scary, too much work... and it became pure fun, from beginning to end. You'd think I'd learn by now, right? Nope.
I have another hectic bunch of weeks coming up: a project that I should have done more work on over the summer is finally here, and I need to buckle down hard to get it done. Plus, there's school, which is a whole 'nother thing. I want to keep my head above water. I really want to not fail any of my courses. And then there's my social life- I'd like to still have a few friends in four years when this academic craziness is all over.
Do you know what I do? Some people cook to relieve stress, some people make things or take long baths... I eat, certainly (and damn you, Capilano U, why do you have to have a Tim Horton's lurking so that I want to buy donuts all day long?), but mostly I come home and grab the electronic bug zapper. You know, it looks like a tennis racket, but when you press a red button it becomes electrified and kills bugs on contact.
What can I say? The summer heat is still upon us, fruit flies are breeding like mad in our kitchen, and the zap! spark! crack! of the Bug Racket fills me with inner peace after a long day.

*I may not be around too much in the next few months as school is really kicking my ass. However, I will try and check in once a month at least, and as a personal challenge, I am going to try and add a photo every time, to make this blog more interesting on the eyes. Wish me luck...

Being Schooled.

They are like deer, these girls, like long-legged does.
I see them on the bus in the mornings, loping around campus in the afternoons. They are giggling with their friends, they are wearing short shorts, so that their perfect brown legs go on forever. They all have long, shiny hair, looped casually back from their perfect pure faces, or hanging straight down past their shoulders. They are impossibly young. Today in Jazz History we were talking about the best places in town to see live jazz gigs and one of them asked Is that a 19-plus bar? and I realized that I am taking classes with people who cannot legally drink yet.
If ever there was an incentive for me to want a drink, that was it.
The boys-and they mostly are boys, not yet men- aren't so bad, somehow. They're so far from perfect, with their skinny jeans and their fashionably awful goatees and their pimples. They're brash, some of them, and the rest are awkward and silent. Most of them, boys and girls alike, avoid looking at me. In my more paranoid moments, I believe it is because they believe they will catch my oldness like a disease. I know that really, they are mostly shy, or socially inept. Some of them are barely out of high school, after all.  But some of them have so much more confidence than I had at that age. Than I still have.
On top of that, most of them know more about jazz than I do.
Okay, so there are many, many good things: the campus nestles in the north shore trees and is small and warm in the sun. I think that most of my classes will be interesting, and also my teachers, although I mistrust the one who memorizes all of our names right off and (mostly) correctly guesses what instrument we play. He is a little too pleased with himself.  I see the boys and girls giggle at his barb-tongued remarks and think Either you're going to grow on me, or you're an arrogant prick. We'll see. I get to challenge two of my classes; Class Piano and Sight Singing/Ear Training which basically means I can do the homework and not have to show up, because I already know a lot of the material. That's cool. I like learning again, although my fingers stray too often to email and Facebook as I do my reading and writing. I must learn to be more disciplined.
I will go to sleep early tonight, so that more wrinkles won't form, so the Beauty and Fashion Police who surely roam the campus won't eject me for being too old, too plain, too out-of-place.
I will bide my time, and remember the old bumper sticker that reads Old Age & Treachery Will Beat Youth & Skill Every Time.