Living In Rhythm

For years, I've been (mock) complaining about my mother's obsession with holiday traditions. She's always been very particular about things over the holidays - more so than usual (to say she has mild OCD would not be an exaggeration). But over the years, my brother, sister, sister-in-law, dad and I have come to find it endearing.

The miniature light-up Christmas village has to be arranged just so atop the book shelf in our living room. She did not appreciate the year when my brother and I added hot wheels and Kinder Surprise goblins amid the carolers. (Granted, we were 22 and 19, respectively, at the time.)

The Christmas lights that adorn our house have been the same every year for as long as I can remember. My dad is only afraid of one thing: heights. And yet, every year, he has to climb up the rickety TV antenna (their house is that rural), and string up the lights, and each and every year, he asks the same question: "If they're going to look the same every year, what's the point in taking the damned things down?" I'll never forget November 10 when I was about 9 years old, going out with my dad and just as he started his ascent up the antenna, he looked down at me and said, "If I fall, tell your mother to call the insurance company." I, of course, had no idea what that meant, but my mom sure found it funny.

Then there's the tree. There are still ornaments on there that my brother and I made when I was three years old. (Little mice tucked into blankets. Their heads were acorns and their tails were elastics, sleeping in beds made of walnut shells.) Every year, we're each gifted a Christmas ornament. Our tree looks like...not a tree. You can barely see any green once the thing is decorated.

Speaking of ornaments, for as long as I can remember, we've been allowed to open once present on Christmas Eve, and every year it's our new ornament. It's gotten to the point where my younger sister now asks, "can we open our ornaments now?"

The interesting thing is, the older I get, the more I cherish these 'traditions'. I live away from home (I am in Vancouver and my family is outside of Ottawa), so Christmas is pretty much the only time I get home any more. My mom sets all my ornaments aside and they sit in their box next to the tree until I come home to hang them myself. (She still, however, doesn't appreciate rogue army men in her Christmas village.)

My mom is a nurse, and every second year, is required to work on Christmas day. Last year was her year, and so we decided to open all our gifts on Christmas Eve. I was opposed to the idea. Christmas presents on Christmas Eve? What would we do Christmas day?! It was sacrilege, if you asked me. But of course, I'd rather have Christmas with my mom, and not rushed, than hastily open gifts on Christmas day.

So there we were, ready to open presents, each in our pre-designated (since we were children) places in the den of our home. Only this time, my dad had a beer, my mom had a strawberry daiquiri, and my brother and I sipped White Russians as we opened our presents one by one. It was kind of nice to be able to laugh and joke, and not worry about looking like you had just rolled out of bed in any photos that were taken. This was also the night when my brother and his wife announced they were expecting their first baby.

This also meant that Christmas day was actually relaxing! My dad and I took care of the food and tidied the house from the night before, and my sister and I carried on our tradition of me forcing her to watch A Muppet Christmas Carol. (Seriously, how she doesn't love that movie boggles the mind). My brother and his wife went to have Christmas with her family before coming back and joining us for dinner with our grandmother and aunt and uncle.

It was a new tradition. It was relaxed and easy and not stressful. My mom wants to do the same thing this year, even though she's not working. I'm all for it.

So not only did I realize that breaking the tradition can be a good thing, and create new ones, but that some of my mom's "Seasonal OCD" has rubbed off on me....Great.

Last year, when I asked my brother what he wanted for Christmas, he asked me for two things specifically: Coffee beans from my (and his) favourite coffee shop, and a CD of some of the music I was listening to at the time.

I think the latter was as much of a gift for me as it was for him. He ended up with two full CD's of the songs that I'd loved over the year. It was a manic, eclectic, incredibly diverse list. I tried to make the playlists flow as nicely as possible, which was harder than I thought it'd be. One CD ended up being country-ish (which is exactly how it was labeled) and the other was more jazz/blues/soul/rock. This year is kind of the same, but kind of different.

This year, I have decided to do the same thing. I ended up with 45 songs on the shortlist. Yikes. So, I cut out the ones that I didn't think he'd be interested in. Estelle's American Boy? Not exactly his style.

What I was left with was two awesome albums that, if they were gifted to me, I would be happy with.

The bonus? I now have these two awesome playlists on myTunes that I can listen to any time I want. Win/Win!

If nothing else, it's shown me how my tastes have evolved in a year. It includes more rock (real rock, not cheesmo pseudo rock). It includes some jazz, some acoustic singer-songwriters. Some soul. Basically a little bit of everything.

And I love the reminder that my musical taste varies so widely. Love it. I know a lot of people say they will listen to anything, but that is actually mostly true with me.

The title has a double meaning...

Last night (sometime during the three hours of sleep I got) I had an awesome dream that I really wish would come true.

It was very 'movie musical'-esque. I was at a smoky jazz bar with some friends, just listening to a trio play sultry music in the background. I went to the bar, ordered a dry gin martini with a twist (almost always my choice of martini, for the record), and leaned against the dark wood on my elbow while watching the musicians do their thing.

Then I took my martini glass, got onto the stage, turned my back to the crowd and told the band the name of a song, and they started playing. The only thing is, it was a song that pretty much no one else in the world would know about. But, in my dream, they did. And I sang it. I mean, I sang it. I sang it like I was born to be on that stage, singing that song, sipping from a martini while the pianist took a solo.

It was amazing. It was a glimpse into a life I will never get to live....

I'm going to step away for a moment from my regular topic of music (or more apt in recent posts, bragging on Marc Broussard), and focus on one of my other loves: Hockey.

By now, everyone who has ever heard of the sport has probably heard about Sean Avery's latest antics. He's an idiot, yes. But he's also kind of the only player who manages to get himself, and in turn, the sport, featured on the front page of Yahoo.com. Is he bad for the game? Probably. Is the publicity he brings good for the game? Possibly.

But what makes me laugh - literally, laughed out loud this morning - is how a photograph can evoke an emotion. In August, the photos of Avery were all of him in stylish clothes and trendy glasses, attached to stories about how he was interning with Men's Vogue. It actually made it look like he might be a gentleman.

Today, every photo I've seen in the wake of his latest tirade, he's chewing his mouth guard, or he's cross eyed or his jersey is disheveled.

Working in the media, I know exactly how important it is to have the right photo for the right article. It just makes me laugh to see it in other mediums! I almost wonder if the news writers for NHL.com have files on their computers labeled: Good Avery and Bad Avery.

And since everyone else in the universe is voicing their opinions on his future, I will, too: Do I think he's a jackass? Absolutely. Do I think he crossed a line? He is so far past the line, that the line is a dot to him. Do I think the Dallas Stars want to keep him around? No. But I think they are going to have a hell of a time trying to find anyone who wants him and the $4mil contract he carries.

Good luck, Brett Hull.

I want to be Marc Broussard's backup singer. I've decided. More than anyone else's, I want to be his.

For a long time (think - since the age of 13) I have wanted to be a backup singer. If you think about it, it's a great deal. You get to be on stage every night doing what you love. You get to travel and see things and be a part of someone's success. But, you don't have to deal with any of the garbage that comes along with it. Interviews and decisions and pressure. You just get on stage, do your thing, go to your bunk on the bus, and wait 'till the next show.

When I was younger, people like Vince Gill, Garth Brooks, and other assorted country acts were the artists I wanted to sing for/with. As I got older, it was John Mayer and Jason Mraz.

Now it's Marc Broussard. Hands down.

That soul crooner, funky, old school R&B jam feel. I would wear a black dress and stand behind the mic stand and harmonize with him every night. I can picture myself on stage singing the breakdown at the end of Hard Knocks. Or the Sarah Bareilles part in Why Should She Wait.

That is my dream job.

It's true. If one more person walks by and sees me punching the air along with the horn lines, I'm going to start looking like a geek.

I have followed Marc Broussard for a few years now. I have no idea how or when or where I was the first time I heard him. Probably because I was launched into an amazing music-induced coma. I swear I listened to Carencro on repeat for the better part of three weeks. Then I bought Momentary Setback and I died a little more because of how freaking good he is. Just....wow. I've bought everything he's put out since. And also, spent countless hours searching Youtube for great live videos of him.

His latest album is no step down, that's for damned sure. Talk about blue eyed soul. Everything about this album has been blowing my mind since I bought it. Well, everything save for LeAnn Rimes' guest vocal, which I'm not crazy about. The song is great, just her vocal bugs me, as her vocals are known to do on occasion.

I don't even know how I can describe it. You just don't find albums like this any more. I don't know what to classify it as. Blues/Rock/Funk/Louisiana Soul. That's probably most accurate.

His writing just gets better and better. And he's only 26 freaking years old. Blows me away.

Best lines? "Last few dollars spent impressing you/I got a hair cut and a pair of shoes/Worth it all/Just to get a smile from you/And a kiss or two"

I think this album is going to take me straight through the rest of the year.

Now that we are closing in on 'the holiday season' it seems every time I turn on the television, there is a new and more annoying commercial featuring some lame Christmas carol. Really? Does Blackberry need a holiday commercial? Those Best Buy ads have got to go. Canadian Tire isn't much better.

From a young age, I disliked cheesy Christmas music. For the end of our annual "operetta" in elementary school, we were all forced to sing Have a Holly Jolly Christmas. I hated every damn second of it. I am more a fan of traditional 'carols'. Oh Holy Night is my favourite Christmas song, with my favourite versions being by Martina McBride, Celine Dion (yeah, I said it) and *NSYNC.

That's not to say there are no great modern holiday tunes- there certainly are. I'm partial to anything off any of Harry Connick Jr.'s 4 Christmas albums. Seriously? 4 Albums? That guy must really love the holidays.

There are two 100%, perfectly acceptable Christmas albums (according to me).

1- Boys II Men. Amazing. Basically R&B tunes about buying gifts, snow, and/or breaking up with someone around Christmas. The appearance from Brian McKnight doesn't hurt.
2- *NSYNC. A Capella version of Oh Holy Night is one of, if not the, best version I've heard.

I love the holidays - I won't lie. I love everything about them. The smells, sounds, the feeling of being home with family. Giving gifts. Receiving gifts. Christmas dinner. Drinking wine with my brother while we make fun of my sister and/or the lame shows that are on television on Christmas night. For such a musical family, however, we never really listened to Christmas music together. I'm OK with that.

And I know that I would be the sister that my brother made fun of if he knew my two favourite Christmas albums are by Boys II Men and *NSYNC.....

They say that sense of smell is the sense most closely tied to memory. That may be true. Actually, I'm sure it is. Yet, somehow, I can hear songs and they transport me back to a time or place so vividly, that it makes me feel like I am there again.

I can listen to Maroon 5's first album, and I swear I'm walking down Dundas in Toronto in the snow on my way to the subway station. I can practically feel the sidewalk beneath my feet and the cold on my cheeks.

I just put on Vince Gill today, feeling, for some reason, a strong urge to hear his voice (one of the best in music, for the record.) I have one of his early greatest hits collections, Souvenirs, on my iTunes.

The Heart Won't Lie, his duet with Reba, is one of the songs that I most remember from growing up. It just came on and I could have sworn that if I closed my eyes, I was a six year old girl, sitting in the front seat of our '88 Dodge Caravan, listening to CKBY (Ottawa's country radio station, now Y101) with my dad driving.

When we were kids, my dad used to sing in the car all the time. He has a great voice. I don't know why he stopped. But I can still hear him singing the Vince Gill part of that song, loud and clear. The line, "Old desires make us act carelessly" still gives me goosebumps...

When I was 11 or 12, Vince Gill was the second concert I ever went to. I remember siting there at the Palladium (now Scotiabank Place) with my dad, watching as the guitar tech set up a full rack of guitars. There must have been 15. I was amazed. How could one person need so many guitars??

He played every single one of them.

When I heard that song today, I wondered if my dad has the same memories? I wonder if he remembers driving around with me next to him, listening to country radio and both of us singing along. I wonder if he remembers that concert and the way my eyes went wide as Vince sang with that crystal clear voice of his.

I hope he does.

Sometimes you just have to resolve yourself to the fact that the universe is trying to tell you something. Some people would call it coincidence, some people would call it fate. I'm starting to think it's just a way to get you to open your eyes.

I woke up this morning and almost immediately had a song in my head. Without You, by the Dixie Chicks. I hadn't heard this song in probably 3 years, so I had no clue why it was plaguing me. While I was in the shower and making coffee (not simultaneously), I couldn't get it out of my head.

I sat down with my English muffin and coffee, and turned on my TV like I do every morning so I can catch the news. The TV had been left on CMT. Guess what video was on!? Of course, I watched the whole thing. (Great song, by the way.)

So I was thinking to myself, "that's a little weird, but not that crazy."

The crazy part came when I got in my car and the radio was on. I always have a CD playing. I'm not a fan of the radio. But last night I went for a drive, and took my CD into the house with me afterward, leaving it on the FM country station. Guess what song was playing?

I just had to admit to myself that for some reason, the universe just wanted me to reconnect with that song. There was something about it that I needed to hear today. I'm not sure what it was, but I'll figure it out.

Fave line? "You made it look so easy / Making love into memories. / I guess you got what you wanted. / But what about me?"

It's always exciting to hear new music, no matter what. Scratch that. It's always exciting to hear new good music, no matter what.

One of my favourite things that always surprises me is hearing a really great song, and checking out the artist or band and finding out that the rest of the songs are just as good. Sounds can be deceiving. You can hear a song that you like, only to find that the rest of the songs by that artist are completely different.

I heard Apologies by Grace Potter and the Nocturnals about 6 months ago. I was impressed, but kind of moved on and didn't think about it again. The other day I just heard the song in its entirety for the first time and was completely blown away by how good it is. Just...holy smokes. Amazing lyrics, amazing voice, amazing organ (I'm partial to any song with organ).

Thanks to Myspace, which I loathe on most occasions, I was able to check out a few more of their songs. I am at a loss. Why haven't I been listening to these band all along??

It's an interesting thing when you can hear something and it just fits you. When it can give you that feeling of - THIS is what I've been looking for. THIS is what I've needed to hear. I got that the first time I listened to John Mayer's first album. And again when I heard the RH Factor. And again when I found out about Augustana and Kings of Leon and Dave Barnes and Marc Broussard.

That all makes it sound like it's not a rare thing, but it really is. Sometimes it's hard not to take that for granted.

Since I bought it last week, I've been listening - almost exclusively - to the new John Legend album. It's just...brilliant. Standout tracks are Quickly (which has an incredible guest vocal by Brandy), Take Me Away, Everybody Knows, and This Time.

John Legend, for me anyway, has the unique ability to both excite me and relax me simultaneously. He pairs a slow piano riff with incredibly passionate vocals and lyrics. He has songs that make my chest feel tight when I listen to them (it's a strange way of explaining it, but it's true). Just the range of emotions he elicits blows my mind.

I have a theory, since his last album came out, that all his track 8's are connected. The first being Ordinary People, then Again, and now This Time. In Ordinary People, the line is 'this time we'll take it slow'. Again is about one or both people in the relationship being unable to trust the other, and breaking up because of it. This Time is about wanting another chance. The lyrics: 'I can be all you need. This time its all of me.'

In my overly analytical brain, I want to believe that these three songs are about the same relationship. Whether that's the place Legend wrote them from or not is a whole other story, but I want to think that all the track 8's are connected. Maybe it's something only I have clued into. Maybe it's a fluke. But the themes are so similar that it's like he's telling the story through the songs, and connecting them all together by placing them in the same spot on the album. I love it.

John Mayer did the same thing, but he owned up to it. His song Covered in Rain is directly derived from City Love. Both are incredible songs. And if you have the Any Given Thursday album, you'll see that City Love is track 4 on disc one, and Covered in Rain is track 4 on disc 2.

Also (and again, this could be completely fabricated by me, similar to the John Legend connection), I want to believe that Come Back to Bed and Slow Dancing in a Burning Room are about the same relationship. Come Back to Bed being about wanting to hold on, and Slow Dancing about knowing that you need to let go.

Yes, I read too much into things sometimes, but I like it - it's mine. They are my theories and whether they are completely untrue, or insane, or unimaginable to others, it doesn't matter.

They are still mine.

It is not even 9:30, and already this morning I've listened to the following acts:

- Brad Paisley
- Patty Griffin
- Marc Broussard
- John Mayer
- Ray Lamontagne
- Augustana
- Kanye
- Aretha Franklin

What can I say? I've got a lot of moods...

Aretha is one of those singers that, no matter how many times I hear her sing, she still blows my mind. She is just so damn good. Effortless. A true talent. She just has it. Whatever it is that makes her so incredible, not many people have.

Every time I hear Think, it's like I'm hearing it for the first time. I know how cliché that sounds, but it's true. Listen to how she jumps an octave when she sings 'I.Q.' She just sings like she's having a conversation. It's that natural for her. She sings lyrics like most people speak.

In Ain't No Way, the background vocals in that song kill me. I mean, you could totally take away the lead vocals and that would still be an amazing song to me. Just holding that high note....Perfect vibrato, perfect tone. Just...perfect. Do yourself a favour and listen to that song on headphones.

She's just got more pure soul than anyone. Brilliant.

I've been on a huge neo soul kick for a while now. D'Angelo, Erykah Badu, RH Factor, Musiq (to name a few).

I just checked Wikipedia out of curiosity, for its definition of the term and this is what I found:

Neo soul (also known as nu soul) is a marketing term for a sub-genre of contemporary R&B.

I will argue that it is not a marketing term, and anyone who says it is, is completely out of touch with the reality of what the music conveys.

I see neo soul as a throwback to the original days of R&B (Stax and Motown), blending with what R&B has become. It's about the passion for the art form, not about how to package the art form. You take something you love and mix it with something else you love. Take a funky old school bass line and a horn line with jazz sensibilities, and have Common rap over it.

That's not about how to market anything. That's musicians getting together in a room and creating something they love. I can picture Roy Hargrove and Common sitting in a recording studio with Pino Palladino laying down a bass track, and being able to do nothing more than laugh at how musically gifted he is. I picture Common in the booth, freestyling, and Roy Hargrove closing his eyes and bobbing his head, taking in the words.

You can't market that. It just is. You can't describe it in a simple term. It's an emotion or a state of mind. Passion in its purest form.

"I want to draw something that means something to someone. You know, I want to draw blind faith or a fading summer or… just a moment of clarity. It’s like when you go and you see a really great band live for the first time, you know? And nobody’s saying it but everybody’s thinking it - "We have something to believe in again." I want to draw that feeling. But I can’t. And if I can’t be great at it, then I don’t want to ruin it. It’s too important to me."

Replace 'draw' with 'write'. That is how I feel.

I am enough of a geek that I decided to make a playlist on myTunes today including all songs that mentioned a city/state/country. Out of the albums on my work computer, I came up with 50 songs right away. I'm sure there are a ton more on here that I just didn't think of or remember.

50 songs that mention places! Amazing. The thing is, it's a really cool playlist! Very eclectic (Kanye before James Taylor? Then Brad Paisley and Dave Barnes? Ok). I won't get bored listening to this, that's for certain.

Why did I do it? I had myTunes on random this morning, and a few songs in a row came on that had cities/states highlighted. Then I started to think of all the others. Then I wanted to know for sure how many there were.

I know. Geeky. But I love it.

No, the title isn't a reference to living in Vancouver. (Although...)

I was searching for something on my computer today and found an MP3 of a song I had completely forgotten I had. Can You Stand The Rain by Boys II Men. A Capella cover of a New Edition song. So good it literally brought tears to my eyes. (I'm a dork). But not because it's sad or anything, it's just musically THAT good.

Rich 4 part harmony that only Boys II Men can do like this. So many good parts that give me goosebumps.

Those who know me know that finding things I'd forgotten about is one of my life's greatest joys. (Eg: making tea, leaving it to cool, remembering it just as it is the perfect temperature to drink; finding chocolate you forgot you had bought; getting home to find there is enough wine in the bottle in the fridge for one glass after a long day; etc.)

Finding this song was a pleasant surprise. And now it's been on repeat all day. Fave phrase "It's kinda cold but I know, I know I'll be right there." Oh, Wanye, you amaze me.

*Note: Yes, I can tell their voices apart.

**Further note: Fun fact is that the very first cassette tape I ever bought was Boys II Men's album, II, which I still have, and pull out from time to time to listen to.

Come Back to Bed.

Simple title. Simple concept. Something we've probably all said at one point or another.

This is the kind of guy I want. Just in general. The kind of guy who just says, "tell me what I did so I can just say sorry and you can come back to bed."

Love this. Call me on the bullshit. I'm probably being irrational. Tell me, "you can be mad in the morning".

I want a guy who is not afraid to tell me when I'm being a pain in the ass, but can do so in a way that doesn't make me think he's being a pain in the ass. There's a fine line. He could come off as a jerk. The trick is knowing when I'm being irrational, and when I genuinely have reason to be pissed off. If I'm really pissed off, this may not be the best tactic.

But if he says "Don't leave me alone here. It's cold, baby. Come back to bed"? That is a good start.....

(I'm just sayin')

I took advantage of a very rainy Saturday and played guitar literally until my fingers bled. Well, they wouldn't have bled if I hadn't cut my pinky on one of the strings, but that's not the point.

The point is I played, and wrote. Because I had the desire to, not because I felt like I should.

I came up with a couple melodies for ideas that have been swimming around in my head for a while. I just hadn't been inspired enough to actually sit down and get it out until now. I'm not saying the songs are incredible, but they exist in a space outside my mind, which is a pretty good feeling.

Then yesterday, for some reason, I went to the Wreckers' myspace page. I don't know what made me do it. I just felt compelled to check it out. And now I'm addicted to their song 'Tennessee'. I love it. It's....the kind of song I want to write. I wish I had written it. "I can guarantee/things are sweeter in Tennessee." Simple and moving. That's how I want to write. There doesn't have to be a hidden meaning or metaphor. Just say what you mean.

I want to write a song about every state. Tennessee, I already have something worked out in my head for. I've got Colorado on paper already (just this weekend!), Carolina would be easy.....Kind of like a musical road trip.

Yes, I'm that crazy.

I saw Gavin DeGraw live for the first time last night at the Commodore. First of all, I love the Commodore. I've never been to a bad show there, and the sound is incredible. It's a small space, with capacity for only 1000, which makes it even better.

Here's the thing about concerts: I hate everyone around me, but only until the headliner comes on. Before then, people are drinking and being loud and obnoxious, literally running through the place. Some are trying to look cooler than they'll ever be (mean, but true). Just....a lot of annoying things going on. But when the lights go down and the headliner comes on, it's like everyone in that room is my best friend. Everyone's connected through the songs and we're all there for the same reason. It's an interesting shift that happens in a 30 second time span.

My old vocal coach once told me to 'make love to the microphone'. I had no clue what she meant by that. I was working on this really sultry jazz ballad, and she explained that the way you hold the mic will either add or take away from the mood you're trying to create. I kind of understood.

Most concerts I go to, the artist's hands are usually occupied by a guitar, so the mic is on a stand. Gavin was at the piano (which he's even better at playing than I thought), or standing with a guitar, but for about a third of the set, he held the mic in his hand and walked around the stage. I finally get what my old coach was saying. He didn't clutch the mic like most people. He held it....comfortably, as if it was an extension of himself. It was the most natural I've ever seen anyone holding a microphone. No white knuckles, no unnecessary finger tapping (Carrie Underwood/Christina Aguilera, I'm talking to you).

The entire show was incredible. Between songs, he'd just riff on a few lyrics, or sing some other people's songs. I get the feeling that's how he'd be in his own house (without sounding creepy). Just comfortable and singing for the sake of singing. Singing what you feel like and what you want to hear. There were lot of chill-inducing moments during this show. Goosebumps on the arms. I knew he'd do a sing along during I Don't Wanna Be, but it was not cheesy whatsoever. 900 people, hands in the air, singing I don't wanna be anything other than what I've been try'na be lately...? Can't go wrong.

The most memorable part of the show for me was him standing, guitar in hands. He stepped away from the microphone completely and continued singing, and his voice still filled the room. Just pure power. It made me want to sing again. Really sing: do the vocal exercises, the breathing, following proper technique (more so than I do now). And don't even get me started on what this concert did for my need to write.

Gavin has a few lyrics and lines that, standing alone, could be completely lame and cliché. But the way he puts them together with other lines and notes, makes them sound amazing. I think the mark of a great songwriter is being able to take something simple and make it sound complicated. And then there are phrases like 'Your eyes tell the lies of the lines that you said' that are amazing and make me wonder why my brain can't work like that. (The next line is 'now that I love you, I wish we'd never met'...which is equally as genius.)

Plus, he's definitely sexy...I'm just saying.


Now, courtesy of High Fidelity, this is how I feel...

Barry: I wanna date a musician.
Rob: I wanna live with a musician. She'd write songs at home and ask me what I thought of them, and maybe even include one of our little private jokes in the liner notes.
Barry: Maybe a little picture of me in the liner notes.
Dick: Just in the background somewhere.

I love old recordings. Stuff from the 50's, 60's, and 70's, before producers started to care more about the finished product than they did about capturing a mood or feeling.

I was listening to Aretha Franklin today, and got caught up in the awesomeness. It was like I was in the booth with her for a minute. I could picture her standing in front of the mic, singing her heart out and making it look so damned easy.

I love in (Sweet Sweet Baby) Since You've Been Gone when the horns are every so slightly off. Leave the mistakes. I'll take mistakes and mood over technical perfection any day of the week.

Some new recordings, I get bored and annoyed listening to because of overproduction. I want to feel something when I listen to music. I know with technology, it's easy to clean everything up and put it into a nice little package, but I sometimes feel like the emotion gets lost in there somewhere. A computer can't give me a feeling. I want to hear the keys of the piano as they're pressed. I want to hear the singer pull back from the microphone, straining themselves with emotion.

Music, to me, is an experience. And come to think of it, all my favourite music - the stuff I can listen to over and over again, has little nuances that are hard to find. I don't doubt that these musicians worked hard to create something 'perfect'. I just think that what some would call mistakes, is part of that perfection.

I have been writing a lot lately, just for the sake of writing. Not writing anything I'd want people to read, or critique, or care about. But it's given me the gratification of just getting the thoughts onto paper. Creating for creation's sake.

I have an entire document full of song ideas that I can't for the life of me, actually sit down and write. It's like I want so badly to write the songs, that that want is a roadblock to actually getting anything written.

With me, when I write a song, if I have an idea and begin writing, the melody I first come up with pretty much stays with those words. So I am afraid that if I write a melody to go with words, and I don't love the melody, that I'll be stuck with it and the original thought won't be what I wanted it to be. Maybe that sounds a little crazy.

I picked up the guitar the other day, fully intending on writing. Just trying to force myself to come up with something. (Yes, I know that I should know better than to force it). Instead, I just played other peoples' songs for hours. On one hand, it was great - just play and sing with no consequences or self-induced pressure. Then the thoughts go from 'happy to be playing', to 'why can't I write like this'? How come Sheryl Crow can come up with Strong Enough, but I can't think up any ways to finish a chorus I came up with 6 months ago?

For a long time, I've been hoping to find a songwriting partner, which I'd still like to do. But, at the same time, I'd really like to just be able to do it on my own. And do it well. I have the thoughts. I have the motivation. I just need to let go of the 'fear' of writing something I don't love.

Sometimes the act of writing is more important that what you write.

My friend has been trying to convince me to join an online dating site. She met a few guys online, one who she really liked, and thought it might be a good way for me to meet someone. "You never know," she said.

I'm not going to do it.

But, I have been thinking: what would I say if I did join? What would my "profile" be? So I started going through ways I'd describe myself. If I were to go on one of these sites (I'm not) I would not want a boring, generic "profile". I would want tot be truthful and detailed, without telling my llife story to everyone who clicked on my name.

So I am writing what my personal ad would say. If I had one. Which I don't.

- I don't think it's too much to ask that a man has a decent job and doesn't live with his parents.
- I am allergic to cats. Also, I don't like them.
- I like dogs, but not little yappy ones, not ones that jump on me, and not mean ones.
- I don't ski or snowboard. No, I don't want to learn.
- I think music is the purest and most effective form of communication.
- I am sarcastic and cynical. But in a good way, I think.
- I think Harleys are obnoxious.
- I watch television. I don't know when that became a bad thing.
- I have a job I enjoy but don't love, but I know it will somehow lead me to my passion.
- My friends are almost as important to me as my family. Almost.
- I can slip a Friends quote, song lyric, or sports analogy into almost any conversation.
- I would rather listen to music and/or play guitar all day than do anything else.
- I have been to more concerts and shows than I can count, in almost every genre you can think of.
- I live for a summer road trip. I make playlists for different parts of the drive.
- I moved to Vancouver for a stupid reason, but found a place to start my career.
- I don't think Vancouver is as incredible as people seem to think. It is great, but there are a few things about Vancouver I can't stand.
- Few things piss me off more than people who talk about things they know nothing about.
- I don't know what I'm looking for. I only hope I can recognize it when it comes to me.


Looking at this list, it is probably too specific and honest for its hypothetical purpose. Which is why an online dating service isn't for me. When you put me down on paper, it seems to be too intense and too much to handle all at once. But when I can leak bits of information to someone gradually and as they come up in regular conversation, the effect is a little different.

And isn't that the way it's supposed to go? I don't want to start dating someone on date #5.

I just caught up with an old friend I hadn't seen in years, and I couldn't help but feel myself getting swept away into total girliness and completely ridiculous thoughts.

When I met him in college, I thought he was fantastically attractive. Green eyes, tall, fit, and not like the other guys I had met at college. He was into design and music and dressed like he wanted without feeling conscious. He, of course, didn't think there was anything special about me.

So now, 5 years later and with a little help from Facebook, we decided that since we would be in the same place at the same time, we would catch up.

We walked to each other, we hugged, we small talked, then we talked about lives and the reasons we have done the things we've done. We talked about hockey (my knowledge of which "floored" him- yes, that's the word he used). Easy, fun, clever conversation.

So of course, I felt like there was potential for a connection there. But then I started thinking- why now would he be even remotely interested in me when he wasn't 5 years ago. What would he see now that he didn't see then? And (silly as it is) why would a person like him (still ridiculously attractive and equally as cool), why would he like me? In any way?

I still found him attractive, but he probably didn't find me attractive. I still thought he was the cool/funky guy, he probably thought I was still the boring, bland girl, though slightly more secure and living in a different city.

I want to find a new person. I want to start from scratch and not have someone compare me to myself- just know that I am who I am, and all the things I used to be are part of that person, but aren't the whole. I don't want someone who knew those parts of my life and those things, whether he liked them or not. I want to tell the stories how I remember them - how I felt them - and for that to be the undisputed truth.

So yes, he is gorgeous, and yes we can chat, but he didn't like me the first go 'round, and I don't want him to be able to have a mulligan and revisit me before making the call....

I wonder how people find songwriting partners. I wonder, because I want one. I want a clever and talented person who knows his way around a guitar or piano. Yes, ‘his’ way. I love the male perspective; especially those with a sensitive or interesting take on situations where women would have a totally different point of view. I love being surprised by the lyrics men can come up with.

I want to find someone I am comfortable enough to test lyrics and notes on. To not be embarrassed if he looks at me like I’m nuts, and who will suggest something new or add a chord and change the song completely. I can’t do these things on my own.

This idea comes out of listening to a new, great song on repeat all day - All We'd Ever Need - by Lady Antebellum. This is the first song they wrote as a group. I'm not naive enough to think that kind of chemistry is easy to come by, but I have to think that a little help would only mean better songs, better words, more emotion...

So I’m putting the call out there now. Looking for a songwriting partner. Must be pro-country and non-creepy.

There are certain phrasings in songs that make the line. Some artists are genius at it- changing the entire tone of the song with a phrasing. Good phrasing can drag you into a song even if you don’t know that’s what it’s doing.

As silly as it sounds, if a great part of a song comes on, I can close my eyes and just vibe out on it- it makes me smile when I can pinpoint a phrase. It feels like it’s my little secret that I notice and no one else does. However, some things are just too good not to share….

Some of my faves, to name very few…:

“Got time, but I don’t mind” JT, Rock Your Body 0:28
“If you could only” John Mayer, Say. 1:25
“Give me a tin roof, a front porch, and a gravel road” Little Big Town, Boondocks. 2:30
“I know how hard it is to give your love away, but baby it’s safe” Marc Broussard, Come In From The Cold. 1:22
“Why can’t we just trust each other, you can’t hate me and be my lover” John Legend, Again. 2:46
“I’m in love with a girl who’s in love with the world” Amos Lee, Keep It Loose, Keep It Tight. 1:45
“You’ve got me on a natural high” India Arie, Beautiful Surprise. 0:55
“I’m gonna sing my way away from blue” John Mayer, I’m Gonna Find Another You. 1:00
“Please” Marvin Gaye, Distant Lover (live version). 2:52
“You don’t look much like a man from where I’m at” Miranda Lambert, More Like Her. 2:11
“Baby, don’t you be so mean” Ne-Yo, Can We Chill, 0:18

I am writing a song right now (first one in ages) that was born out of reading the liner notes for Continuum. The center of the booklet is a page of the inside of a studio, with “this is what my heart looks like” written with an asterisk.

The concept is amazing to me- to be able to define what the inside of yourself looks like.

So I started writing. And I am completely stuck. I want so badly to complete the chorus (maybe one of the best I’ve ever written), but I cannot think of the right word to fill out the lyrics.

Deepest? Darkest? Most fucked up (then we run into syllable problems…)…?

What is the one word/thing/idea/ that I can say is defines me completely. I have no clue. Not even the most remote idea. Even as I read the options I have written down, none of them seem right to occupy that 2-syllable space.

Books can guide you but your heart defines you (says Jay Z)….but how do you define your heart?

I have been battling with myself lately over whether or not to buy Jordin Sparks’ album. I was given a $25 gift certificate to the iTunes store and choosing which albums to buy is like…something else that is also hard to choose.

I love Tattoo. I love all the songs I have heard so far, actually.

Do I want to support someone who skipped a few steps to get where she is, when there are so many people working hard and getting nowhere?

I can't blame her for taking that opportunity. I bought Carrie Underwood’s albums…(though, I didn’t buy her debut until about a year after its release). Daughtry is great. Can we even consider Idol as skipping steps anymore?

What it comes down to is this- good music is good music. If Jessica Simpson (who I am definitely not a fan of) puts out an album that is (by some strange fluke) actually OK, I will buy it. Chances of that happening remain to be seen- she is set to release a country album soon. I am scared.

If an artist means what they are singing, sounds good, has catchy songs with decent instrumentation – some of the makings of a good album – who am I to judge what got them into the studio? I have heard my share of bad singers, and Jordin Sparks is far from one of them (see the Super Bowl. It has been a long time since someone sounded that good singing the anthem, lip-synching or not {which is a whole other issue. Stadiums like that one are not built for sound. The echo in spaces like that makes things sound completely different to the person performing, resulting in bad timing and off notes}).

She means it. She is 17, but I believe her. Sure, I could go into a million other things beyond that, that make an artist good, but if I don’t believe what they’re saying, what’s the point?

Answer: there isn’t one.

Before I started cleaning my apartment today, I was searching my collection for a soothing, unobtrusive album to listen to. I started with Herbie Hancock. A classic. There are few things more perfect to me than good piano jazz, and Herbie is one of the best (see his performance at the 2008 Grammys).

When that album was over, I went searching again. I wanted something in the same vein. I own a lot of jazz records, but wasn't feeling like listening to sax or trumpet. Then I came to Norah Jones' second album, Feels Like Home. When I got the album (in 2004, when it came out), I didn't love it. There were a handful of tunes I was really into, but the album got shelved after a few listens, only to be brought out when I was in the mood to hear Creepin' In (the duet with Dolly).

Something made me put it on today. I can't believe I didn't love this album immediately. I am mad at myself for not falling for its not-so-subtle bluegrass sensibilities.

So now I have a new theory about this album (and some others): Sometimes you aren't ready for the music when it comes to you, and it will resurface when you are ready. It isn't that you aren't "in the mood" for something. It's that it really doesn't affect you until you are ready to let it. For whatever reason, 4 years ago, I didn't care about this album. I remember thinking to myself on the second or third listen "OK. What's the big deal?"

Now I get it.

I am having to remind myself to interact with people lately. It’s not good. Most acquaintances’ problems and stories are the least interesting thing to me right now. I don’t want to hear about it. I possess all the makings of a hermit.

I have said it before- it is not the people around me who are the problem. It is definitely me. I am still compassionate and empathetic to people and their issues, I would just rather not be the one they come to.

For as long as I remember, I have been the one people come to for advice. Advice on pretty much anything, actually. Where should I go to dinner? What should I wear? How should I break up with her? Should I get back together with him? I have loved it. I do love it. I want to be the one people trust and respect enough to ask for opinions and advice. That said, I don’t want every single person I know to pick my brain every day. What is my favourite restaurant in Ottawa? I don’t really want to share that. It is trivial and silly and a little bit selfish, but can’t a person keep some things to herself every now and again?

In my experience, when you tell people these little things- preferences, etc.- they seem to think they know you. Knowing that I like an Italian restaurant does not mean that you know me. Knowing I am from Ottawa does not define me as a person. It adds to who I am, but it is not who I am. Asking me for insiders’ tips on the places I have lived will not make us closer. It will annoy me.

There are people who, no matter what they ask me to divulge, I will. I trust them with the information. More importantly, I trust that they know that not everything I tell them is some clear window into my personality.

I found this on my computer while looking for something else I had written. This, more than anything else, has shown me how much my life, attitude....self, has changed in the past year. So much so, that it makes me feel awkward to read this.

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He took what he wanted and left. There was nothing else, after a year of friendship, for him to extract from knowing me.

I invested so much of my time and energy and emotions into getting to know him. Sacrificed so much of my time and energy and emotions into getting him to see what I had wanted him to see, instead of laying it all on the table and saying 'take it or leave it'.

In the beginning, it was fun. It was a fresh start in a new city. I could be whatever I wanted to be, and what I wanted to be was myself. I just hadn't considered that that wouldn't be enough for him. That should have mattered, but it didn't.

I should have known from the beginning. Each and every time we met for any reason, he was late. Should the red flag have been that he didn't care enough about me to show me the respect to show up on time? I didn't think it was a tall order. And, of course, I let it slide. At that point, I'd rather have had him late than not at all.

Almost a year into knowing one another, he kissed me. It was something that I had wanted for so long, that I found myself overwhelmed by these feelings of relief and happiness and confusion. I wanted him. I wanted him to feel the things I felt. I wanted a relationship. I wanted his attention. I wanted, I wanted, I wanted. I didn't stop to think that what I wanted was not at all in the same vein as what he wanted. He wanted physical contact. He wanted to feel needed. He wanted to know that a woman could want him more than he wanted her. He wanted validation.

I was left in the wake of his emotional disaster. He didn't realize what he had done until after it had happened. As women, even one kiss can progress the relationship so far forward that the men are often the ones left behind. He came back with apologies and explanations that meant nothing to me. I heard them, but didn't accept them. After all, you can't accept what you don't believe. The apology wasn't what I wanted. It wasn't the gesture.

After the kiss, there was nothing left of mine for him to take, he just hasn't realized it. He doesn't want to resolve himself to the fact that I don't need his attention anymore. I am sick of being present and accessible and not getting the same thing in return.

So now I'm wondering to myself, did he take what he wanted and leave when there was nothing more to take? Or did I not get what I wanted and leave when he had nothing more to give?

There are a few songs that, no matter how many times I’ve heard them, I simply cannot skip over.

The songs vary in huge ways. Different genres, artists, styles, tones, topics. Whatever it is that makes me stop and listen, every single time, I couldn’t tell you.

I have a friend from college, an incredible musician, who could never skip over a song or stop it dead. If he wanted to skip, he’d fade out the volume then skip. If he was turning off his stereo, he’d fade out the volume and hit stop. His explanation was that every song and artist deserved the respect of not being cut off.

I’m not that serious about it. I will skip 20 songs in a row on those days when iTunes – always on random - isn’t reading my mind (which I’m convinced it does sometimes).

One of my favourite things to do with iTunes is to select artists and albums to create a mix for the day, based on my mood. Very rarely will I just let all the artists and albums play through on random.

I did today. All artists. All albums. The very eclectic 1366 songs. Just play.

Of the songs that are on my iTunes at work, these are the top 22 I can never skip, in no particular order. Why 22? I cut the list down from about 35, and these are the ones I absolutely refused to remove.

Lesson Learned- Alicia Keys feat. John Mayer
Keep it Loose, Keep it Tight- Amos Lee
Part II- Brad Paisley
So Small- Carrie Underwood
Go- Common feat. John Mayer
Like A Star- Corrine Bailey Rae
Stay Away- Dave Barnes
Sophisticated Lady- Ella
If I Were Your Woman- Gladys Knight
Steamroller- James Taylor
Frontin’- Jamie Cullum
99 Problems- Jay-Z
Little Wing- Jimi
I’m Old Fashioned- Coltrane
Slow Dancing in a Burning Room- John Mayer
Back To You- John Mayer
Through The Wire- Kanye
Diamonds From Sierra Leone- Kanye
French Café- Marc Broussard
Heavenly Day- Patty Griffin
Kwah/Home- RH Factor feat. Anthony Hamilton
Uptight (Everything’s Alright)- Stevie

This is quite possibly the most manic and disjointed playlist ever. If we're using the High Fidelity rule of mixtapes, John Cusack would not approve.

It’s Valentine’s Day. The single girl’s least favourite day of the year, by most accounts. Everywhere I look today, it seems there are tools intended to make people feel more at ease with their single-dom (I admit I just made that word up). The Internet is flooded with Valentine’s Day-specific content. So far, I have seen the following- ‘Valentine’s Day Movie Ideas for Singles’ and ‘Best Anti-Valentine's Day 'I Hate Love' Songs’.

Now, since I’m a sucker for lists, I did read them. I didn’t agree with all the choices, and of course there are a lot of movies I’d watch on Valentine’s Day instead of Titanic. And how stock a pick is ‘Love Hurts’? I mean, at least put some thought into it!

If anything, I think the single people on Valentine’s Day are forced into feeling terrible by what the attached people project onto them. “Poor you, alone on Valentine’s”. I am alone the other 365 (366 in a leap year) days. No one pities me then – I don’t think – so don’t pity me now.

I’ve always thought Valentine’s to be completely ridiculous. Even as a child, I resented every moment of gluing foam hearts on a brown paper bag to hang from my desk, and getting the class list to write out Little Mermaid valentines to drop in my classmates' decorated paper bags. I’ll wear red on any day of the year other than Valentine’s Day. I got cards in the mail from my mom and dad and my sister. That’s all the love I need right now.

Sound bitter? It really shouldn’t. I’m just not into anything with this much hype (New Year’s, Halloween…). Is Valentine’s a complete ‘Hallmark Holiday’? Probably, but Hallmark can’t survive on birthday cards alone. Have I ever been in a relationship over Valentine’s Day? No. Do I care? No. The cliché is that every day, you should express your love and admiration for the person you’re with. No one I know needs cinnamon hearts do that on a daily basis.

Surprisingly enough, I’m not depressed, angry, or really affected at all by today, other than being inspired to write this.

Truth is, I’m in a great mood. I am comfortable with myself and the fact that I am single. I am not listening to the family members who say, “You don’t need one of those [a boyfriend] anyway.” As a friend of mine would say, “it’s not a fucking toaster.” Eventually I will have ‘one of those’ – a boyfriend, not a toaster - and I’m sure I’ll still have the same outlook on February 14.

I don’t need a 'special someone' in my life to tell me how wonderful I am one day a year. I can tell myself that any time I feel like it. That sounds conceited, but it isn’t. There is a huge difference between megalomania and self-assuredness. I am far from thinking I am perfect; I know I’m not. But I am content with who I am, who I have been, who I am becoming, and where I am coming from to get there.

Since when is loving yourself not enough? Maybe they should make candy hearts with sayings like, “I love me” on them, (though I just read an article on the impact of candy hearts on the environment, and the reasons we shouldn’t eat them...want to bet the scientist who did that study was single?)

Sometimes I can't sleep. I go through random bouts of insomnia; sometimes for no reason, but more often than not, it is stress related. For the longest time, I would just lay awake and, to be honest, cry about how I couldn't sleep. I tried everything I could think of to get myself to sleep, to no avail.

Just recently, I went through a week long spell in which I got roughly 20 hours of sleep over the 7 day period. The first night was spent the same way it always was- tossing and turning, cursing whatever was keeping me from dreaming. Then I came to the conclusion that if I wasn't going to be sleeping, I should be doing something productive with my time. I caught up on reading, wrote, organized my closet, rediscovered albums in my library that I hadn't listened to in years. I was still exhausted during the day, but had a strange sense of accomplishment. I had done the things I had wanted to, but couldn't find time to do during daylight.

Life throws you inconveniences. There is no way of avoiding them. It is all in how you deal with what is given to you. I believe, with evidence, that it is in our nature to sidestep the messes we are dealt, as opposed to facing them head on. Why spend time trying to clean up something we have no control over? However, giving these problems the brush off generally only makes them bigger, or brings on new, different things we have to deal with. We often chalk these situations up to fate and do the bare minimum required to stave off potential disasters; hold our breath until the next problem surfaces. But, the more we accept these inconveniences as fate, the less we try to fix them.

Conversely, as these things happen, they will always seem like the worst thing at the worst time. Obviously, this can't possibly be true. We make situations worse by putting more energy into them- and usually not the right kind. There are things that require our attention, but is it really worth it to spend a half hour of your day- or more, for some- reliving the problem? I know I'm guilty of this (though not as guilty as a lot of people I know), and that some days you just need to vent. But, when does venting stop being therapy and begin being wasted energy? Why do we feel the need to drag others into our problems? Chances are, they are dealing with their own.

I don't want embracing to be misconstrued as simple optimism- that's not what I'm saying (those who know me, know I'm no optimist). I just mean that sometimes life's detours can lead you through some beautiful scenery, or change the destination altogether. It's up to you whether you choose to see it. Do I think that every change is for the best? No. Do I think that changes come when you least expect them? Sometimes. Sometimes the change comes when you need it most, and didn't know you did. Embrace it.

Somehow, even though it still fills at least half my day, I miss music. I physically feel like I can't possibly have enough time with it. Even when I am listening or playing, it's like I can't get to the next song quickly enough. I can't wait to hear the words and feel the chords and what the next person or song has to express.

I think it is the only thing I love. I hear lines and songs and intricacies I wish I had (or could) come up with. I think anyone who creates anything feels that. The longing to be better at what you love, as if you owe it to the art itself to do it justice. In futility, your failure to be perfect shapes what you become, what you create. I'm sure well over half the music I listen to on a daily basis, the artist would like to have back for a couple days. Adding lines, changing a word, adding a riff. It blows my mind to think that music is never a finished product. Even the people I think are brilliant, hear music and think the same thing I do, "I have so many more places to go."

There comes a point in the creative process when it becomes less about what you need to say, and more about doing right by thought- the one that made you grab the pen in the first place. You put words on the page and then you need to come up with the perfect melody. The melody that sounds like the words. The melody that showcases the words. And vice versa. You come up with a melody, and putting the wrong words to it can make it sound terrible. The hard part is to not abandon the thought when things start going sideways. I have a theory that if something is that easy to abandon, it never meant that much to you in the first place. It may be part of a bigger feeling- the path that gets you to where you need to be.

The greatest frustration in writing comes from not getting what you think you want out of it, which isn't the point at all.