Anniversary

It's been a year since graduation.

I wonder, am I anywhere close to where I thought I'd be by now?

Last year, I would have anticipated having one agent, one less tattoo, three less heartaches, one more boyfriend, two less plane tickets, three more acting gigs, one less tour, one less global exploration, three more credits, six more friends, two less losses, a million less doubts.

22 looms. No longer can I re-invent the definition of "Student" and get away with it. Student of the world, yes. Student of life, Always. Student of an institution, not so much.

I feel old in my skin. I feel ancient. Time passes so slowly, and yet, in an instant we have become unrecognizable. The weight hangs differently, the skin is not so pure. Time takes it's toll, even on those of us who are young. I feel it every day.

I feel the rain in my knee, and thunder in my heart. I cannot keep track of all my dreams. They don't die, they just change, and come back twice as strong.

Those who time has become more acquainted feel my age, but doubt it by it's number. Those who are naive, doubt me.

Spring time ambition paints a rosy picture for the future to come. A poor choice on my part. Why did I choose a time of year when life would be starting anew and sun would re-appear, to mark my progress in life.

Where am I supposed to be? I suppose just where I am.

What would the 13 year old version of me think? Would I look at myself and say "wow, I can't wait to meet that girl!" or would I run and hide under my bed, and pretend the world doesn't turn.

I want to be the person I would look up to, and I wouldn't regret.

Regrets are a waste of energy anyhow. They give excuses to the choices we've made. They allow us to pass on our guilt, and shame of ill favoured choices.

Today is just another day to mark my time.

Happy Anniversary

I've always been afraid of jinxing things. I've always wished on stars. Every day at 11:11 i stop and silently utter the same wish i've had since i was six. I've fallen victim to fate. I've seen ghosts. I've had dreams turn into reality. I've been called crazy. I've been called worse. I've knocked on wood. I've crossed my heart. I've pinky sworn. I've actually sworn. Several times. In a church. I've asked god for help. I've asked the universe too. I named my guitar. I named your car. I've spoken without words. I've used my mind to move things. I've taken solace in the moon. I've taken the soul of the sun. I've prayed. I've jumped sidewalk blocks to not step on the cracks. I've held my breath over railroad tracks. I've never run from a black cat. I've opened umbrellas indoors. I've jumped in elevators. I've screamed on rollercoasters. I've cried in carwashes. I have carefully compiled the soundtrack to my life. The soundtrack to my heartbreak. The soundtrack to my memories. Never to my death. I've woken up without you. I've woken up miles away from you on the same bed. I've woken up crying. You woke up laughing. Singing. I've always loved breathing in the cold. Lungs shrinking. Hurting. I love running in the dark. I love making eye contact. I love touch. I hopscotch to the bus stop. I'm terrible at bowling. I'm terrible at tennis. I'm terrible at skateboarding. I'm terrible at saying what i need to say. I'm great at saying what i want to say. I break easily. I am resiliant. I'm shy. I hate being alone. I don't smile enough. I cry too much. It's not always bad. I watch people. I watch trees. I see things no one else does. I make up stories. I am a great liar. I am incredibly truthful. I am blunt. Razor Sharp. I have too much ambition. Pro-action. I'm scared of dying. Scared of loving. Scared of living. I love living. I love feeling. I am scared no one will see me. I'm scared they won't get me. I'm terrified of being buried alive. I'm anxious to make my life happen. I love basking in the warmth of the spring sun. I love the torrential rain in Texas. I love hugging. I don't like sex. I don't like bacon. Beef. I love chicken wings. They don't like me. I want sunsets. No sunrises. I want candy everyday. Gummies. Wurmies. I want ice cream kisses. I want snowflakes on my eyelashes. I want arms to fall into. I want brownstone walk ups, with fire escapes. I want New York winters, California summers. I want to live like the songs you play. I want to be your Judy Garland. Your Maria. Your kitten with yellow hair. I want every morning to be excitement and every night contentment. I've sung you to sleep. Sung your praises. Sung to you so you won't hear. I need piano solos. Key changes. Sly smiles make my heart race. Pompadours too. Combs in the back pocket. Girls with cute haircuts and pretty eyes. Boys with tattoos.

I'm terrified. I've wished. I'm crazy. I want. I'm anxious. I love. I need. I'm scared. I'm terrible. I've seen. I've sung. I've cried. I'm afraid.

I'm jus.

I Survived SXSW

Yikes.

Austin, Texas is about a million degrees, hot and sticky and during South By South West is packed with people.

Every little tiny place where they could possibly put a stage, they do. It's an interesting combination of half assed bands with huge ego's and mid-level-successful bands with none. One must have an Artists pass to get anywhere cool, but the workhorses who make you look and sound cool get jack. "I'm with the band" gets you everywhere and nowhere, at the same time. It's like the volunteers for SXSW suddenly have this responsibility, they get to play god with musicians.

This whole weekend has been craaaaaaazy. Touring with Trail of Dead, is a tough gig to begin with. Touring with Trail of Dead during South by South West is a gargantuan task. Down time is not really an option, and it's an endless cycle of load gear in, load gear out, find parking, get yelled at by cops and volunteers, run errands for the band, then load the gear out again, load the gear in again. Load the gear out, re-load the empty cases, then find parking, then set up gear. Tear down gear, find the van, park the van as close as possible, un-load the empty cases, fill the empty cases, re-load the van. Then drive to the next venue for the next show.

Last night trail of dead played a venue called emo's, at about 11pm. Load in was at about 6. Then we had to load out after the show, and get to a venue for the Spin Magazine, SXSW after party. At this point, everyone but a few of us were a little tipsy. Some were a little more hammered than tipsy. This made the load out process that much more fun. We ended up at the venue, and unloaded gear. TOD was supposed to go on at 2:30am. They were then pushed to 3am. They actually went on closer to 4am. Leaving plenty of time in the well stocked green room and the open bar party for more drinking.

Needless to say, the show was epic. Standing on drum kits, jumping into the crowd, broken glass, etc etc etc. We ended up loading out and getting home at around 5:30. I was asleep by 6.

SXSW is over, and today is the aftermath of that. I haven't had a drink since Vancouver and it's amazing. It's nice to be able to focus on learning and working in Rock and Roll, than living the Rock and Roll lifestyle.

At this point, i'm sleepy, and smelly and need a coffee and a shower. Probably about 18 more hours of sleep, but without a doubt, I learned SO much, and wouldn't give up this opportunity for the world. I love tour, I love Music, and I love being in the thick of it.

xo

America!! FUCK NO!

So. I just saw a clip that was seen on the American propaganda network known as FOX. It's a commentary on the recent announcement that the Canadian Military will have to take a break after pulling troops out of Afghanistan in 2011.

Not only mocking our military, Greg Gutfeld takes a rather gutless shot at the Lieutenant General, Andrew Leslie's, surname before diving in and suggesting that during the Operational break the Canadian Military will be "taking a breather, doing some Yoga," and "getting manicures." Additionally, Mr. Gutfeld consults "Doug" a rather ill-educated looking man, with a shit eating grin who continues to perpetuate stereotypes and emasculate our country.

To top this lovely piece of "Journalism" off, is Mr. Bill Schulz, who compares America's legitimate police officers with our mounties, citing the fact that their cops have armoured vests and camo, while our mounties have Bright red coats. America has armoured cars and Canada's RCMP ride horses, and finishing it off with this lovely quote. "This is not a smart culture Greg!"

Wow. I'd like to invite Mr. Schulz to come up north and arrange a little meeting with our "little red coat" wearing Law enforcement.

If this is the way the American news networks portray our country, it's no wonder the American people are so misinformed. Currently I'm in Texas, and you would be surprised how ignorant the people are to the culture of their lovely neighbours to the north. Citing us as the "Fifty first state" and believing we actually live in Igloos and eat whale blubber.

Fox news is not known for it's quality journalism, but i find this piece slanderous and highly offensive, and down right ignorant. Mr. Schulz, Mr. Gutfeld, please I'd love to arrange a meeting with you both and sort out this little misunderstanding about my nation, oh, but wait. My horse is getting re-shod, and my Dog-sled is in the shop.