On My Own

17 years. It's hard to even wrap my brain around the amount of time that's passed since Tim died. It seems like only yesterday and a million years ago...all at once. One thing's for sure though...today, the pain seems more substantial than ever before. Maybe each year that passes, I feel like this. But there's something almost tangible about the pain this year. Maybe it's because I'm getting closer and closer to the realization of my dream. Perhaps that realization makes me even more sad at the fact that Tim's not here to cheer me on...or maybe he would have been playing guitar with me.

Though I sit here today "on my own," a reference to the song I sang in Tim's memory back in 8th grade when he died, I know I'm never really alone. I carry Tim's spirit with me as I travel on this journey. My journey is filled with countless people, places, lots of music, and not much sleep. God's equipped me to deal with all the hardships that come along with this adventure, which can be so hard at times. But aside from the joy that music brings me and the satisfaction of seeing my hard work produce results, I have Tim's memory and legacy to keep me going.

I know that Tim is one of my angels, one of my guiding forces. For when it seems too hard to go on, I realize that I MUST continue...if for no other reason than I'm alive to do so. It's so much more than that now, but I know that I have this great responsibility to do what God has built me to do with my time here. I'm taking time today to sit and meditate on the life and gifts I have been blessed with, to celebrate Tim's life and legacy, and to thank God for blessing me with a clear path in life, a path which I know I will never be "on my own" for as long as I have my ears, eyes, and heart open to all the angels God has surrounded me with. I miss you, Tim, but you will never be forgotten. I carry you with me always just as you carry my spirit when it's hanging in the balance. You are a true friend and a very real angel. You are missed, but never forgotten.

No Woman, No Cry

Cover of Etta James

In the span of a year, we've lost so many legends. For me, I feel like I keep losing parts of myself as I lost Amy Winehouse, George Harrison, and, today, the incomparable Etta James. But with these losses, I can't help but feel a growing responsibility to fill the voids these artists have left and create my own musical legacy.

My musical influences run a wide spectrum, ranging from classic rock and roll, motown, neo-soul, reggae, jazz, blues, gospel, new age, R&B, hip-hop, and basically everything in between. I've done my best to keep my ears and heart open to every musical genre. The beauty of music is that it's the only thing in our world that's truly universal. For about 3 minutes, it doesn't matter who you are, where you came from, what you've been through...we're all on the same page. It's the most magical moment of realization if you've ever been to a concert and look around at all the different kinds of people that all know the same words.

If you know me, you'll know that I do my best to put as much positive energy into the world as I can. I want to do the most amount of good with my time on earth as possible and I KNOW that music is my vehicle to do just that.

My last blog post was more somber than my usual posts, but when I woke up today and heard the news of Etta James passing, I was reminded of something that I had temporarily forgotten. I'm ALIVE! Seems simple, right? But honestly, just the fact that I'm alive to face another day means I've been given another opportunity to make this happen. Today, I began applying for a grant through BRIO to help create some new music. I'm looking under every rock until I find the resources to make this happen. I've also been applying for part-time positions to help sustain my livelihood while I do this. I had gotten really stuck on the notion that taking a part-time job doing anything, but singing, would de-rail my dream. I realize now the necessity of it in order to fulfill my dream. I've learned to let go of the resentment I feel towards surviving and replaced it with gratitude for the alternative skill sets that I have that will allow me to support myself and move forward full-force with my dream.

I recently recorded vocals to a track produced by Doue Carter entitled, "I Cry." I love the song, which I wrote in about 3 minutes after Doue sent me the track. It's one of those songs that just wrote itself. You can hear the undertones of Etta James' "I'd Rather Go Blind" on the track. In fact, I had to get that song out of my head in order to work out the melody line for the song. As I reflect on the life, legacy, and music of this beautiful woman, I thank God for the opportunity to work on my own new music.

Songs like "No Woman, No Cry" by Bob Marley have made me feel so much better on days like I've had lately. And though the title of my song would lead you to believe that it's a sad song, at its core, it's actually about tears of joy. It's about celebrating the fact that, as women, sometimes we cry because we're just so overjoyed by the love in our hearts. To give you an idea of what I mean, here's a taste of some of the lyrics, "I cry 'cause I love you, but you don't get it. You think I'm just being a girl. And I cry 'cause I'm happy. Just forget it. You're the biggest thing in my itty bitty world." So women, go ahead and cry! But once you're done crying, don't forget to smile and be grateful that we've been given another day to make it happen!

RIP Ms. Etta James

If You Never Ask, the Answer's Always No

Image by Moisturizing Tranquilizers via Flickr

5:41 a.m. That's what time my phone rang yesterday. But I was already up. Excitement wouldn't let me sleep the night before. I guess Brey, my producer, must've felt the same...since he was the one on the other end of the phone yelling. "You up, HoxieCotton?!" "We're not going to Cali...leaving Kennedy onto LAX....but I'm up." That was the beginning of my very busy, very AMAZING day yesterday.

Just checking in with everyone to say hello and share some of the excitement that's been going on lately. I barely know where to begin. I guess the best way to explain why things have been so busy lately is to SHOW you. Head over to kickstarter.com/projects/kfhox to get all the latest updates from my very first EP!

My first order of business yesterday started in the studio with Brey King (Sound Check Live) and T-ron Lewis (Invaderz). We're finishing up the vocals and final revisions on the first track of my first EP, "Back with You." It has been an absolute labor of love and I'm so excited to be able to share it very, very soon! Track 2 has already started and is almost completely written. Looking forward to sharing what I've been working on!

Once we finished up in the city, Brey and I headed into the city for a meeting with an amazing producer. Since the details are still being worked out, I'll save that story for the future. Just be ready for greatness! I am so incredibly overwhelmed and humbled by all of the people that have opened up their hearts to me!

Our meeting ran late and I had to be in New Rochelle by 5 p.m....with cheesecake...that I was supposed to have made! Yikes! After an hour in rush hour traffic, I was already 45 minutes late for a musical/ spiritual dinner and discussion with Vlada (vladamusic.com). So a stop to Mobil-on-the-Run would have to suffice...Entemann's anyone? Although my visit was brief, it was just what I needed to rejuvenate and refresh before heading off to the next part of my night. I hadn't even eaten yet so this was my reminder to slow down! The ever amazing, talented, blessed, and highly favored Vlada gathered everyone to pray for me before I got back on the road. The power of prayer has been something that has nourished and sustained me through this busy and tumultuous journey!

The final part of my night was spent with some of the most talented and amazing people I've had the privilege of meeting at Hip Hop Saves Lives 1 Year Anniversary (hiphopsaveslives.org), run by CEO Chad Harper and co-hosted by Brey King. The night showcased great musicians, singers, and poets. It was a beautiful night with great people for a great cause!

I was excited to discuss my project with the other artists, promoters, and others that were in attendance. It's so incredible to be a part of everything that's going on! This has been such a beautiful journey and I'm so glad that I finally took the time to ask for help to make this dream a reality! I am living proof that if you want help, all you need to do is ASK for it! If you never ask, the answer's always no. What will you ask of others today? Challenge yourself and others to do something you didn't think was possible...you'll be pleasantly surprised at the responses you get...and you just might realize that the impossible is possible!

The Grass is Always Greener...

Cover of ?uestlove

Well, hello there! I know, I know...it's been a while...too long. I've had a lot going on since the new year and I simply haven't had the time to dedicate to writing as much as I used to. Busy is good though, right?

I just got back from a short trip to FL...my first time back since I got relocated for work back in January 2009 and boy, was it needed. Winter in NY seems to have no end this year. It's been brutal...borderline depressing! A little dose of the sunshine state was definitely just what the doctor ordered. I never would've scheduled the trip, but my old boss (and someone who I consider to be one of my many mothers) was getting married and I simply couldn't miss the occasion!

I booked the flight and tried not to think too much about it until it got closer to the time to go. I've been so wrapped up in my NY life that I didn't have time to really think about what this trip to Florida would mean. But the day finally came and I was never so happy to get on a plane out of New York! I got off the plane and had a chance encounter with ?uestlove (pronounced Questlove) of The Roots while picking up my checked baggage. To this day, I have no idea how to properly pack so I brought way too much stuff for my little 5-day vacation. But the worrier in me would never allow me to pack lightly. As usual, I digress.....

I got off the place and was greeted by one of my very favorite people in FL...the world is actually a more accurate description! Already off to a good start, we decided it would be a good idea to squeeze in a little time in downtown Orlando. But since all the bars close at 2 and I came in late, it didn't offer much time. I found myself wishing we were in NY just so we could stay out a little longer. We made the best of it and had a lot of fun in a short time.

I woke up in the morning feeling like my sinuses had exploded. Though I've never suffered from allergies, Florida seemed to have fooled my sinuses into thinking that I do. I could barely breathe through my nose. I realized I never really felt like that in NY...perhaps because that would require the season of spring to actually arrive!

I won't get into too much of what I did while I was in Florida...I'll just say that I did my best to eat all the food I can only get in FL and see all the people that time would allow while I was there. By the end of my trip, there was a lot of food that I hadn't gotten to eat (probably for the best) and a lot of people that I didn't have the privilege of seeing. Overall, it just made me wanting more...more palm trees, more days on the beach, more time with people I consider true friends, and so on. It made me miss living in Florida.

Though on any given day in the 5 1/2 years I lived in FL, you could hear me babbling on and on about how much I wanted to move back to NY. I wasted a lot of time in FL wishing I was in NY. In the last 2 years that I've been back in NY, you wouldn't have caught me saying the same thing about FL. Perhaps it was an out-of-sight-out-of-mind thing, but I bet you'll hear me wishing FL back into my life now...especially if it snows even ONE MORE TIME! But alas, the moral of the story is that the grass...errr....the sand?....is always greener. Make the best of what you have, where you have it....everything else will work itself out.

Assumptions vs. Psychic Powers

Image by designwallah via Flickr

Hello again. I've been busy with a lot of things lately so I apologize for the lack of posts. I recently worked on an episode of Boardwalk Empire and I've been diligently working on writing new music. In the midst of all of this, I started dating someone that I met on new year's eve (that's a story for another time). Anyway, we've been slowly working our way through the pros and cons of getting to know someone new. Of course the beginning of dating someone can be exciting, but it's also loaded with so many unknown twists and turns and can be a bit of a rollercoaster ride.

In a recent conversation, sometimes known as an argument, we verbally sparred with our own personal interpretations of what should be expected of one another a month and a half into dating...keep in mind, it's the day before Valentine's day...perhaps part of the reason the conversation came up at all. He stated his case and I honestly heard him out., but I don't know if it's just because I'm a female...or if it's just because I'm me...try as I might, I just couldn't bring myself to 100% agree with his perspective. I also think that part of my disagreement with him stemmed from the fact that I really think sometimes guys mistake women's intuition with women's psychic powers....the latter, I certainly don't claim to have.

If a woman assumes something, she's automatically wrong for drawing conclusions without all the facts. On the other hand, men assume that women completely understand the logic behind certain decisions that men make. But if we're not supposed to assume, then why would THEY assume that we understand all their decisions without all the facts. The only explanation I can think of is that men believe we have a set of psychic friends to rely on when we really need to understand things that men do. Maybe I should call Cleo or something.Ugh. Happy Valentine's Day. ; )

The Definition of Insanity

Image by IslesPunkFan via Flickr

Typically, doing the same thing over and over again never yields different results. Yet in life, I believe we've all been guilty of such an offense at least once...or I guess in this instance, it would have to be at least twice. For me personally, I've been guilty of this in different aspects of my life.

Based on some recent events, I've been brought to the realization that I have returned once again to this bad habit. It's prompted me to wonder what it is that makes a perfectly intelligent person continue on this path of continuously hitting one's head against the wall. Whatever the reason, I guess the first step...like any problem...is recognizing it. So today I find myself recognizing it...the question is what will I do differently...or will I simply continue to merely recognize it and not proactively change my actions? At the end of the day, just because I know what the definition of insanity is does not automatically mean that I'll do anything to change it. And hey, who knows....maybe something different will happen this time. : /

Just Add Water!

Image via Wikipedia

So I guess I'm back to talking about love...or lack there of. Working as much I have been has led to a pretty much non-existent love life. I'm certainly not complaining about the amount of work I have lately, but it's definitely highlighted some other aspects of my life that are not quite as bountiful.

Because of the nature of my work, I meet new people almost daily. I'm a huge advocate of the benefits of networking and I'm generally a people-person anyway so I love this aspect of what I do. Amongst the people that I work with, every once in a while I meet a guy that show some level of interest.

I recently was on a set and was giving my number to a friend of mine. The guy who was walking with us made this his opportunity to also take my number...despite the fact it was not intended for him. I couldn't take my number back from him once he got it so I hoped he would just forgot he had gotten it.

I got home from the set that day and got a text. It was him. His first text was harmless so I responded. I try not to be rude...a trait of mine, which usually backfires more than not. Me trying not to be rude led to several more texts. At one point, he started sending me inappropriate and unwarranted texts ranging from wanting to be in a relationship with me to...well. I'll let you use your imagination. I finally wrote back to him and told him to give it a rest.

Despite the fact that I have so little time to meet, date, and start a relationship, I'd never rush into something just to have a boyfriend...especially a creepy one. My past experiences and level of standards make finding someone that much harder, but I know it'll happen when and if it's meant to happen. Until then, I'll try my best to avoid guys eavesdropping conversations to get my number. And just a note to people who think that having someone's phone number is an invitation to prompt a conversation about being in a relationship with them...it's not. There's no such thing as an instant girlfriend...I'm not mashed potatoes.

Lost & Found

Image by nekotune via Flickr

Tonight I lost the bracelet I got from the fundraiser for my friend's father who passed away this summer. I've worn it everyday since I got it- it's the only jewelry I have ever consistently worn. I'm not sure at what point I lost it, but I realized it when I asked the PA on set about a similar bracelet he was wearing. I pulled up my sleeve to reveal mine...only to realize it was one. My heart sank as I looked down at my bare wrist. I had no idea where/ when it had managed to slide off my wrist, but I had a feeling it might have been when I did my wardrobe change for the 2nd scene of the day.

I must've worn the look of heartbreak all over my face because my cast mates immediately asked me what was wrong. I explained to them what happened and somehow got to talking about the last year of my life leading up to the death of my friend's father. They listened intently as I talked about the turbulence of the last year and the strength of my friend.

When we wrapped for the day, one of the women I had made friends with on set suggested that I return to our original holding location to look for the bracelet. I was exhausted and it was a bit of a hike to go back, but I really wanted to find the bracelet. Being so tired, I wasn't paying attention and managed to walk about 5 blocks out of the way back to holding. Undeterred, I made my way back and searched for the bracelet. I look high and low...under the tables, in the bathrooms...everywhere. It was gone.

The PA was coming in as I was leaving. I told him that I couldn't find it and he expressed his regrets about my loss. I looked at him and said, "It's ok. It's just a thing." And for the first time since I can remember, I meant it. I know we say that all the time, but how many of us really mean it? We place such emphasis on things. But it was this very loss of a thing that I got to share something much deeper...the inspiration of overcoming obstacles and the amazing strength of people (as exemplified by my friend this year). And the bracelet that reminds me of such an amazing man who served us so bravely reminded me how important the people in my life are...not the things. In the loss of my bracelet, I found the importance of refocusing my energy on sharing my positive experiences and making the most of everyday.

It Ain't Easy Being Green

Image via Wikipedia

Do you recycle? I'm not talking about separating your papers and plastics...I'm talking about dating exes. Depending on who you talk to, everyone seems to have a different answer for or against "going green." For me, I've generally been able to maintain friendships with most of my exes...though there are certainly some exceptions to this. After all, there was a reason you dated them in the first place so it seems that you should be able to maintain some level of friendship, right? On the other hand, there's a reason that they're your ex so maybe it's best to shut the door and move on. Friendship's one thing...but dating is a whole other situation. 

The dating scene is awful. I've been single more or less for about 3 years now and dating hasn't gotten any easier. In fact, it seems the longer I'm single, the easier it is to just stay that way. Of course I have my moments from time to time...like sitting on the subway across from a couple holding hands and making googly eyes at one another. But I usually get a reality check of some kind shortly thereafter...like overhearing someone in a fight over plans they made in lieu of spending every waking moment with their significant other. Ugh. 

A hectic schedule and barely enough time to sleep makes this kind of recycling seem so much easier. You don't have to get to know a whole new person from scratch. That sounds sad as I write it, but it really is true. Does recycling mean that you have to give up getting romanced though in place of something more convenient? I'm not even trying to pretend I have answers to these questions...just throwing them out into the universe and out of my head. Recycling might be good for the environment, but I'm not sure it translates the same in the context of people. 

I'll Sleep...when I'm dead

Image via Wikipedia

If you can't tell by the title...I'm tired! This has been an incredibly hectic and busy week. I was fortunate enough to be cast to appear on Law & Order: SVU, a commercial for Mega Card (it's actually a Russian commercial), Running Wilde, and HBO's new feature film, Too Big to Fail, which is all about the financial collapse of 2008.

Aside from being tired though...I am so grateful and realize how blessed I truly am. Many of you who follow the blog are also personal friends...and Facebook friends, which means you've been updated pretty regularly about my latest adventures within the film/ television world. All of my latest adventures have included tremendously early mornings, endless subway commutes, long hours, lots of waiting....and I wouldn't change a thing! I am loving this new chapter in my life. I've met so many fantastic people and been a part of some wonderful productions. It makes me wonder why I waited so long to begin this journey. But even a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step...I'm so glad I finally took that step.

I have a relatively late call time tomorrow morning so I figured I would take an opportunity to reflect on what an amazing week this has been, express my gratitude to all of you who continue to show your love and support, and just relax. I hope that my small success story so far can help inspire you in whatever your aspire to be and do. Take that first step! LIVE while you're alive...you'll have plenty of time to sleep when you're dead.

Forever Young

I've spent most of this week trying to catch up with as many old friends as possible. Since I moved to FL for about 5 1/2 years, it's been ages since I've seen most of the people that I knew growing up. I always mean it when I tell people that I want to get together, but life has its way of keeping you apart sometimes. This week I was on a mission to stay good on my word to catch up with some very dear friends...and I did just that.

One of my friends who I try to always visit is my old friend, Tim Lyons. Tim was one of my very good friends growing up. I used to walk to and from school with him and a few other neighborhood boys. Those are some of my fondest memories of Tim...mainly because I don't have the privilege of creating any new memories.

On March 17, 1995, Tim was walking down Middle Road in East Greenwich, where we grew up, and was struck by a drunk driver. The car hit him so hard that he was propelled into the woods and literally out of his shoes. The driver of the car claimed he thought he had hit an animal and went home to call his attorney...I don't know how many people that think they hit animals go home and seek legal counsel about it. I can remember the morning I found out about Tim vividly. He was the first friend of mine to die...the fact that he was killed made it that much more difficult to take in as a 14 year old.

The news was plastered with the story of my friend. And the months following were no easier. I spent a lot of time at Tim's house with his mother and uncle. I would also walk to the site of where Tim got hit...almost everyday. I grew up in a small town in the smallest state in the country so it didn't go unnoticed. Soon my mother received a few phone calls by people who were alarmed by my visits to him. My mother was annoyed by people's questioning of why I would do such a thing...I was mourning...the only way I knew how at such a young age. I would walk to the memorial site and his grave and sing songs to Tim. I actually had a whole set of songs that I would sing each time I visited..."Hold On" by Sarah McLachlan, "Last Goodbye" by Jeff Buckley, "Leaving on a Jet Plane" by Peter, Paul, & Mary, and "On My Own, from "Les Miserables." That year, I did the talent show at the junior high and performed "On My Own" and dedicated it to Tim...it was the first time I had performed like that in front of my classmates...and I owe the courage it took to do to Tim.

It's been 15 years since Tim's been gone. I went to his grave today to go visit with my friend. I was silent as I stood there. It wasn't that I had nothing to say or that I didn't want to talk to him, I was just trying to take it all in...all over again. All of my friends that I got to visit this week had stories of things going on in their lives...things we had missed out on with one another. I realized today that Tim will always be 15...and in many ways, that will be the version of Tim that I think of everytime I go to visit him. Though I get older and have the privilege of experiencing the joys and pains of life, my friend is forever young...something that sounds better in theory than it does in reality. I miss my friend a little more with each passing year. I realize it's another year we will not get to catch up, another year he will not get to create new memories, and despite another year, he's still 15.

We live in a time where botox and plastic surgery are fairly common place. Trying to maintain youth is an obsession within the media and in many of our personal lives. To be perfectly honest, I have my own hang ups about wrinkles and other signs of getting older. Today I realized I'm just grateful for the opportunity to live another day...and to live long enough to worry about such trivial things....we should all be so lucky. The next time you find a gray hair, just remember how many hours, days, years, laughter, tears, and memories it took for you to get there...and be thankful that you're not forever young.

Eat Pray Love

Image via Wikipedia

I haven't seen the movie...or even read the book...but I get the idea. And I'm not sure if seeing the previews a million times or going through some heartbreak on a few different levels lately inspired it, but something's recently clicked and I feel the need to do just that...eat, pray, and love. I don't have the kind of funds that would allow me to travel overseas to do it, but I don't need to go so far away to take some time to myself.

I'm heading up north for a while in hopes of getting some new inspiration. I'm hoping that putting a little distance between myself and my current reality will help to open my eyes and give me some perspective. I'm going armed with some good books, a notebook, and my iPod. Sometimes the monotony of day to day life can leave you feeling a little less than inspired. It can have you feeling like Paul McCartney in "Band on the Run"..."stuck inside these four walls/ sentenced at forever." I'm breaking out of my four walls and trying a different angle at life. Pressing reset has left me needing a new approach...an approach that includes eating fresh Maine lobstah, praying and meditating on positive thoughts, and loving myself. I already feel better...and I'm just packing.

Pressing Reset

Image by yum9me via Flickr

Well, it's over.For anyone who has been keeping up with the blog, you've heard about the guy I've been dating for the last couple months...it's safe to say you'll never hear about him again. And if you've been reading my blog, you're also familar with something I call the ice cube theory...the ice cube is melted, shattered, and all over the floor...but I can proudly say the ice cube's state is solely due to him...I tried. I tried and tried...and refrained from name calling or hurtful actions...which is more than I can say for him. I guess I can come clean about the the fact that most of the reason I've been so down lately has stemmed from him. I'm not one of those girls who lets my whole world  be affected by a guy, but this time I gave too much too soon...and paid the consequences.

Lesson learned...moving right along. It seems appropriate that things should come to an end with him just as I am spreading my wings in other areas of my life..a new beginning. I've been diligently submitting to casting agencies and feeling the winds of change in the air. It's time to get back to me and the goals in my life. At times, we get so preoccupied with trying to make things in a relationship work that we neglect to make our own lives work. When you realize you're giving more of yourself to someone else than you are to you, it's time to press reset.

Sun Showers

Image by Night Owl City via Flickr

Thursday, August 5, 2010, 5:45 a.m.: WANG. WANG. WANG. WANG. My alarm clock went off, but I was already awake. I had gone to bed only hours before and I'd woken up almost every half-hour since. It was the morning of my best friend's father's funeral. I had already had 2 exhausting days driving between the Bronx and Long Island, stopping in Manhattan to pick up and entertain some friends from out of town for the last 24 hours. Exhausting, yes...but nothing compared to what my best friend and her family had to endure during the weeks leading up to her father's death.

I got out of bed and made my way to the shower, hoping the water would rejuvinate me...but it just wasn't that kind of day. I opened my front door and saw that it was raining...appropriate weather for what I guessed would be a dreary day on all levels. It seemed as though nothing could lift my spirits or really wake me up. I got dressed, packed a change of clothes and some other odds and ends, and made my way to Starbucks in hopes that a latte would help perk me up (pun intended). I left more than 3 hours early because I wasn't sure how traffic would be and I didn't want to take any chance of being late...but at least the rain had stopped.

I arrived to the church almost 2 1/2 hours early, but I wasn't the first one there. There was a pickup truck full of firemen ready to pay their final respects and honor their friend and comrade. It touched my heart to see them there so early. It was the first time during the day that I smiled...and it felt like God had tapped me on the shoulder and reminded me of the goodness of people.

I eventually made my way into the church to meet with the organist and cantor. My best friend had requested that I sing the communion song during the mass, "On Eagle's Wings." It's one of my very favorite hymns and it was included at my grandmother's funeral. It always gets me choked up so I was really nervous that I wasn't going to be able to get through it. I met with Jean, the organist, and she offered great advice, consolement, and assurance that I would be fine. Her kindness made me smile for the second time that day...and it felt like God had tapped me on the shoulder again so as to remind me that as long as I sing with my heart, it would be beautiful.

I took a seat in a pew and anxiously waited for everyone to enter. I looked over and realized the cantor had arrived. I walked over to her and we chatted breifly about the song. Her name was Pat; she was a high school music teacher and said that she adapted quickly so not to worry. And for the third time, I smiled...and again, God tapped me on my shoulder...this time, reminding me to take a deep breath and mentally prepare for what was about to happen.

Mass began ceremoniously...with the firemen of Ladder Company 38 leading the way. It was beautiful. I looked across the way and caught eyes with my best friend long enough to blow each other kisses and say, "I love you." The priest gave a a moving a eulogy and shared his own interactions with this great man. Two friends spoke and shared their personal memories, which included some of the antics he was known for. Laughter errupted throughout the church. I not only smiled this time...I laughed, too. And this time it was not God tapping me on the shoulder, it was my friend's father himself. He was reminding me...and everyone else in attendance...that he wanted this day to be a celebration...and not a day of tears. And though I wished I could honor his wish completely, I was able to at least insert some laughter in between tears.

The mass ended and I stayed behind to receive communion. I thanked Pat & Jean for their help. Jean gave me a strong hug, the kind that feels like it's actually replenishing some of the strength that you've cried out of yourself. She held me tight and said that she could hear that I sang from my heart...and that it would be something that my friend and I would always have as part of our friendship. I sobbed in her embrace. And though I wasn't smiling, I could feel God tapping me on the shoulder again...reminding me it was ok to cry. 

I got into my car and followed the long caravan of cars towards the veterans' cemetary, which was about 45 minutes away. Due to him being a war veteran and a member of NYFD, not to mention the number of family and friends in attendance, the police department shut off side roads and escorted us the entire way. I took the opportunity to call my mother during the drive. At that moment, I didn't need God to remind me...I remembered how fortunate I was to have both my parents still in my life.

We arrived at the veterans' cemetary and proceeded to gather in his final resting place. It was a beautiful day; the sun was shining down brightly. The soldiers fired off their gun salute in honor of this brave man…literally the bravest man I’ve ever known: a pilot, a courageous firefighter for 38 years, and a first responder during the 9/11 attacks. Another soldier played Taps and it started to set in that this was truly the end. Finally, a bag piper played the last tune and a woman from the funeral home said a closing prayer, following it with us all reciting the “Our Father” together. It was time to say goodbye. My friend and her family placed their white roses on his casket and watched as others dropped their flowers and said farewell. As the last rose was dropped, huge rain drops started to fall through the sun-drenched sky. I smiled. This time, he and God, were working together to remind us to not linger and be sad…it was time to return to their family home for the party he had requested. I grinned from ear to ear as I ran to my car, realizing just what was happening. As we all returned to our cars and began to drive off, the rain stopped and the sun gleamed as bright as before. It was perfect.

I arrived back at my friend’s house where the cars lined the streets all the way to the end. A neighbor had placed fire helmets and American flags on an island that separated the street. Signs in neighbors’ driveways welcomed his friends and family to park wherever they needed. The sun was still out, but now there was a gentle breeze that blew. I smiled again…God was reminding me they would be at the party, too. It was a beautiful day, a wonderful party with some of the most amazing people I have ever had the honor of meeting, and an eye-opening experience to realize the importance of celebrating life. Celebrating the life of someone can be the most profound and helpful way of mourning the loss of someone as extraordinary as he was. All day I had “Two Step” by Dave Matthews Band stuck in my head, whose chorus jubilantly sings, “Celebrate we will ‘cause life is short, but sweet for certain.” I smiled throughout the entire party…realizing that we were all there because we were honoring his wish to do just that…celebrate.

My friend was inundated with news reporters and phone calls as soon as she arrived home for the party. She was unbothered by any of it and she didn’t hesitate to speak to anyone. She spoke passionately about the loss of her father…the bravery he demonstrated in life, the humor he brought to everyday, and the legacy he now left behind. She is now fighting to help pass a 9/11 healthcare bill…a bill that was rejected just 2 days before her father’s death, a death attributed to the cancer he got as a result of being a first responder during that tragic day. As I watched and listened to her speak, I could see that her father had clearly not gone anywhere. In her eyes, I saw a glimmer…and I smiled. It was God reminding me that our loved ones never really go anywhere…not as long as we keep them in our hearts and our minds. My friend is a living legacy of her father and I am honored to call her a friend. And though her father may not be with us in the physical sense, he and God made themselves more than visible throughout the day…a sign that faith sometimes grows stronger when you least expect it. Today, I celebrate my life, my faith, my friendship, and the realization that God is everywhere…you just have to be paying attention.

Cancer: Lessons Learned about Life through Death.

Image by ktylerconk via Flickr

Cancer. It's a word that has been in my brain like...well, like a cancer. In the last few weeks, I have been plagued by cancer...both directly and indirectly. I had a constant pain in my breast that was making me nervous. I went to my doctor, told her my symptoms, and she immediately got on the phone referring me for a mammogram. I listened to her as she argued with whomever was on the other end of the phone, explaining my mother's history of breast cancer and how I must have a mammogram. She huffed and puffed, hung up the phone, and explained that I'm too young for a mammogram so I'd be going for a sonogram instead. I didn't really care what kind of test it was...as long as it meant I was getting to the bottom of whatever was wrong. Cancer was the last thing I thought it was, but I figured a sonogram would surely tell me something about what was going on.

I showed up at the breast imaging center and checked in. While filling out my paperwork, there was a woman in the waiting room who was a accompanied by a nurse. She kept bursting out with, "Oy vey" over and over again. I couldn't help but think of my mother. She reminded me of my mom during one of her many manic depressive espisodes. I looked at the woman and smiled tenderly, trying to convery the message that I understood where she was coming from. But she just looked back and screamed, "Oy vey," again. And again, I thought of my mother. My mother was 46 years old when she was  first diagnosed with cancer, a diagnosis that would eventually go terribly wrong and metastasize...leading to a mastectomy...chemo...radiation...and 3 reconstructive surgeries. But, despite all of this, my mother is a cancer survivor. She is still in my life today...a gift from God that I sometimes took for granted until I met the guy I'm currently dating...and frequently blog about.

He lost his mother in her battle with cancer. He had little time to prepare for her death and she was one of his very best friends. And this past week was the 3 year anniversary of his mother's death. Since we started dating, we've spent a lot of time together. But as the anniversary drew closer, we grew further apart. Maybe that's an unfair assessment...we didn't necessarily grow apart, we just spent significantly less time together. His phone calls and texts grew further and further apart. I finally sent him a text message asking if he was still interested in me...his elusiveness had shaken my confidence. I just couldn't understand why he would want to be alone that much....or exclude me from what he was going though. In all fairness, we are two very different people in that regard. When I'm at low points, many times I need people around me to distract me from allowing myself to get so low that I can't get back up. Why didn't he want me around to help pick him back up?

The answer became abundantly more clear a few hours after I started writing this particular blog. I started writing this blog post on Saturday evening. I stopped so that I could get out of my house for a while and go distract myself from my self-absorbed thoughts of me, me, me in the context of my relationship for a while. I don't mean to skip around so much, but I need to rewind a few weeks back at this point.

I don't remember if it started with a text or a phone call...but I do know it ended up with me on the phone with my old college roommate, getting the news that her father's bladder cancer had returned...and spread. I stayed on the phone with her, listening to how everything had unfolded. Occassionally, I would interject my words of hope based on my own father's battle with bladder cancer. My father is also a cancer survivor. He is a smoker, a recovering alcoholic...but most of all, a survivor. I sent her texts everyday, checking on the progress of his battle. His prognosis sounded fairly promising, but I still made sure to take a day and spend it with her while he was in the hospital. Things sounded hopeful...he was supposed to be discharged at the end of the week so he could get home and start full-body chemo. We all watched the World Cup together, drank iced coffee, and he ate the first solid food he had been able to in days. It was a good day.

Fast forward back to this Saturday. As I mentioned, I went out and hung out with my friends so as to avoid wallowing in my own self-pitty for the evening. I drank some beers and played an entertaining game of Scrabble with a few friends. It was a low-key night, but it was just what I needed. On the way home, I spoke to the kid I was dating again...and found more frustration. I pulled up in front of my house and took a look at facebook on my blackberry. I saw a haunting status update from my old roommate and paused...It's 2 a.m. Do I call...is it too late? Do I text her...is that too impersonal? Does her update mean what I THINK it means? I decided to text a general "thinking of you" text just to test the waters. Her response broke my heart and confirmed what I thought to be true. Her father had lost his battle to cancer that night.

Within seconds of getting her response, I called her...not knowing what words I could possibly say that would be able to offer her consolement. Her voice was calm as she answered the phone and explained the events of the evening. I sat there in silence ...just trying to figure out what to say.  What words are there for someone who loses a parent? Sometimes the only thing you can say is that you don't know what to say.

I got off the phone with her....and sobbed. I cried so long and so hard that I lost track of time. I cried for all the things he would miss in her life. I cried at the thought of if it had been my father. I cried for her mother. I cried for her sister. And then I cried because I realized how insensitive I had been to the guy I'm dating about grieving the loss of his mother. I made myself physically sick from crying so hard. At some point, I got myself together enough to get into my house...so I could cry some more. And cry, I did. I cried at the thought of how strong my friend was being at such a tragic time. I cried about feeling guilty that my parents had survived. I cried for everything that had gone wrong...and could possibly ever go wrong in the future. I just couldn't get a hold of myself...and then I yawned. Yawns are magical. I feel like yawns are God's way of stopping you from crying when  you can't stop yourself. I yawned...and just like that, it was God's reminder that I was still alive and to get a grip. So I did...and went to sleep.

The next morning I woke up...and I cried again. I sent a text to the guy I'm dating and explained what happened. I needed to see him...and not be alone...and tell him that I think I finally understood...kind of. Afterall, how much can you really understand that until it happens to you? I don't ever want to know...but I know it's inevitable...no one gets out of this alive.

I spent the whole day with him...living life instead of crying about the things that are so far out of my control that they could make me cry forever. I called my parents and the woman I consider to be a second mother. I told them each that I love them and that I was grateful that they are still here in my life. I talked to my friend today and she asked me how I was doing. I didn't know how to answer....if I said I was good, would that make her feel worse? If I said I was bad, would that make her feel worse? Instead, I chose honesty...I told her that her father's death had made me realize how lucky I am to have my parents in my life and to not take anything for granted....and to always remember to LIVE my life instead of thinking about it so much. She seemed happy that a lesson was learned throughout all of this. She said it's what her father would have wanted. And after she said it, I realized that's what all of us should strive for...to leave a legacy that reminds others to value our lives and one another...and to live everyday as if it might be our last...because you never know.

What's Your Favorite Song?

Image via Wikipedia

One of my favorite songs, both to listen to and sing, is "Fallin'" by Alicia Keys. I guess it's only appropriate being that the majority of my relationships have demonstrated the kind of tumultuous ups and downs that the song represents. Another related song that I love by Raphael Saadiq so aptly states, "Falling in love can be easy...staying in love is too tricky." Take 'em to church, Ray Ray!

The beginning of a relationship is all hearts and rainbows and butterflies. There are a million songs out there that sing of all the wonders that new love brings and the feelings it evokes. Case in point, "newness" by Musiq Soulchild, talks about the ease that we all experience when we're at love's edge, just about to fall. "Everything is cool when love is all brand new Cause you're learning me and I'm learning you." Yeah, Musiq, everything IS cool then, but what happens after we learn each other? Well, there's a catalogue of songs for that part, too.

Whatever your mood, feeling, or personal situationm there is at least a handful of songs that can speak your heart or mind. Music is beautiful that way. It allows us to never really feel alone. It lets us know that there is at least one other person in the world who has gone through the exact same situation. Music serves as a friend, a psychiatrist, a motivator, an inspiration, or just a comrade in pain. No matter what the genre, there is a melody that can help lift you up or allow you to perpetuate and wallow in your sadness.

Music is my true love...my soulmate. Music has been the only successful long term relationship I have ever had...it has never left me and it has been exactly what I needed at the very moment that I needed it. It's also served as bookmarks for periods of my life. I can vividly remember certain events in my life solely based on a song that came out during the same time.

There is no better way to hear music than live in concert! I have been brought to tears at more concerts than I care to admit. But there's something just so moving about being with the person singing the words to one of your favorite songs and singing with them. I recently went to go see a Dave Matthews Band concert in Bethel, NY and found my eyes welling up with tears as they played "Ants Marching." Memories of high school flooded my brain and I before I knew it, tears were streaming down my face.

I've seen Billy Joel twice in concert and I have to say they were 2 of the best shows I have ever been to. The first time I saw him was with my family. I was about 10 years old at the time and remember that feeling like it was yesterday. The next time I saw him was years later during high school. I went with my good friend, Jeff, who had recently had a diving accident and was adjusting to life as a quadrapalegic. We sat in the very top section of the convention center...it was the first time I had watched a show from that perspective. As I sat there with Jeff and listened to Billy Joel pour out the words to countless songs I sung word for word, I realized how beautiful the experience was. I was so honored that Jeff had invited me to go to that concert with him...for so many reasons. As Billy came out for his encore and performed "Piano Man," you could hear the voices of the thousands of people singing the lyrics. This was by far the most profound realization that I had at any concert. It was the first time that I realized the impact and the universal nature of music. For 4-5 minutes, we all stood and sang the words of that song...each with our own memories attached to the lyrics. But in that span of time, we focused on nothing...nothing but the music. It didn't matter if we were rich or poor, black, white, or purple with yellow polka dots...there we all stood side by side and were connected by that song. It was magical. I get goosebumps just thinking of that moment.

You could take pretty much everything I owned away from me...just don't take my music. I could exist on water and music alone. The music provides the kind of sustenance that feeds nutrition to my heart and soul. The music will always let me know, that no matter what...like Bob Marley's "3 Little Birds"...every little thing is gonna be all right.

In Between Jobs

Image by ξωαŋ ThΦt via Flickr

As you may or may not know, I've been out of work for quite some time now. It's not something I openly advertise. And even when asked, I ever so elusively give the response that I'm currently "in between jobs," something I heard during my unemployment that sounded so much better than just saying I was unemployed. I usually also quickly add that I just finished my second masters degree so as to avoid the feelings of shame that generally follow someone asking me this question. This has been a tremendously difficult year for me both personally and professionally.

I was let go from a job last summer that I gave my life to. I travelled a lot locally and worked from home, which meant I almost literally never stopped working. I used to think working from home would be a dream. The reality is you never leave your office so there's no separation between your work day and the rest of your life. It was stressful, time consuming, and the most demanding position I've ever had. I sacraficed personal relationships, social gatherings, and even family emergencies (including the death of my aunt) just to stay on top of my work.

When I was not working from home, I was travelling everyday into a different borough of NYC...anywhere between the Bronx, Queens, and Manhattan. I visited a different school every single day. Many of my days started as early as 4:30 a.m. to catch a train, transfer, and whatever else mode of transportation to get to a high school in time for their first bell. It was stressful...and I lost of lot of sleep...but I loved it. I had no problem giving up anything just to make myself available for that job. In the end, there was no reciprocity in my professional relationship. I gave it my all and got nothing in return...sounds hauntingly familiar to many personal relationships in the past, as well. The result was the same as those aforementioned relationships, too...tears...many, many tears.

But I'm not writing today to cry anymore tears or to whine about a job that stressed me out. I'm writing to make good on a bet that I made in a past blog post. I said that in the last year of my 20's, I'd finally make a conscious and true effort to live my dreams. My dreams have evolved over time. What once began as a dream to take the stage and perform all over the world still glimmers dimly in my heart. But as the reality of the industry and my age sets it, my dreams have become different...age appropriate, if you will. My dreams still involve music...but are now also encompassing acting and writing. I have always been a creative person. This has never been a doubt in my mind...or the minds of most of my employers...for better or worse. Some employers have just been more appreciative of my creativity than others. This is understandable, as not all of my positions have been juxtaposed to such a personality type. Regardless of this, my mind has always wandered to the the creative and expressive.

As I am currently just past a year of being unemployed and having dealt with some personal issues during this time, I'm finally in a place where I have no excuses left and there is nothing else that could possibly go more wrong than it already has...a bold statement, but I feel confident that it's true. Accordingly, this coming week, I am heading out to casting agencies, armed with headshots and a strange confidence I've never had before. I've questioned this confidence a bit and come to the realization it's stemmed from the fact that I have absolutely NOTHING to lose. I've already lost my job. I lost most of my pride in the last year. And I've lost the ability to apply for jobs that I have absolutely no interest in doing. More so, I have lost the ability to apply for jobs that I am over-qualified for only to be turned away because I have too much education. I never realized all that school would work against me.

I'm now heading into an industry where my education is irrelevant. Nonetheless, it will serve me well in terms of communicating who and what I am and what I want. The very worst that can come out of any of this is that I still have no job. Returning to that previous statement from a former blog that states: fear can not be felt in the same breath as desire, I head into this week with a new score on life. Desire: 1. Fear: 0.