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Stupidity

I have been home all week on vacation, really unwinding and doing shit like spending hours on Facebook and YouTube (stuff I never allow myself to do for any length of time when I am working), and watching Much Music. I have heard this said before, but I now must ask the question once again: WHERE ARE ALL THE ASIANS AND DYKES on TV??? I have read about Asian and lesbian invisibility in the media, but it didn't really hit home for me until today, seeing a Sugarland video, noting with horror that the fat dyke on guitar was nowhere to be found. And NO ASIANS anywhere! Not on ANY channel, except for maybe Omni 4 at 3:00 am. THAT REALLY FUCKING BUGS ME.
My friend Marta is always telling me to quit my day job to take my show on the road. She says that the stars align just right for me to live the life of a True Artiste and live out of a car or something. Now how about my poor hand? It even hurts to type! There is only so much music I can play before the old hand just quits. God forbid I ever get arthritis. In the last few days, I have played at Jo's birthday, then a wedding, then I'm booked at my Local pub for Friday, then at a Unitarian church on Sunday, complete with a fantastic piano player and three vocalists.

Now, about living in a car: it seems that Marta has missed the boat on just how much of a princess I am, and how much I value physical comforts, so much so that the pursuit of comfort trumps the pursuit of adventure for me. I have birds and a cat and an old man, and 400-thread count sheets. I am a bath person. I need proper light to put on my full face every day! HA HA! Plumbing is important, to quote Angela. Maybe Marta is right, though. You only get one life.

I still feel that I am riding a tide of good fortune musically. And my sister is learning to drive tourbuses, so we'll see!

112/80

WOO HOO! I am soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo happy.

My blood pressure is now 112/80 from a high five months ago of 140/100 (heart attack territory). I am so amazed, I could cry. I have my sweet, kind, non-judgemental dietician ((((AMY)))) to thank for that one. If she had started with the "you-have-to-give-up-salt" crap and "here's-a-salt-substitute-you-could-try" diatribe, I would have shut down immediately, and all I would have heard was, "You have to stop drone drone blah drone blah blah blah SALT blah drone". She instead took this approach: "Blood pressure is related to your electrolyte balance. How much calcium are you getting? Here is a list of high potassium foods. There is magnesium and phosphorus in these foods." Oh, how I love her. (((((AMY))))). She said, "How many shakes of salt do you use?" I said, "about 5 big ones." She said, "How about trying 4 for a few months?" WHAT AN ANGEL. I respond to kindness and empathy, and science and being asked to make small sustainable changes. I respond to her.

AND my musical career is really gaining momentum. I am playing at Jo's birthday partay this weekend, then 7 songs at a wedding (for $150!!!). Then I have 4 Am Jam's lined up. Is it my talent or is it my cans? Melissa would have something to say about that, I am sure!!!!
My gig at Mick's Pub was frickin' FANTASTIC! It was one of the best nights of my life. The sound system was stellar, and the levels were just right. I was very full from having eaten a huge Italian meal at my Supper Club earlier on, so I was chock full of energy. I looked fabulous, the hair turned out, and I wore comfortable footwear.

All my best friends and family were there. I only had to lug equipment a half a block away from home. Every song came to me effortlessly, and the electric guitar (affectionately known as the Ammer Jammer Slammer Hammer) was a huge hit. The place was packed to the rafters, thanks to the efforts of my homies Chris & Nicole, the pimpage of my sister Jo, Facebook, and my Mommy telling everyone she knew to come see me!

My ex Freddy was there (black eye and all - that guy has NO shame!!!) and he stayed for the first half. At my break, he came up to me and gave me a big hug, and told me I was amazing. HA HA FUCKER! (Sorry, couldn't resist). Just then my Old Man Methuselah came in, and I said to Freddy, "You'd better watch out, or you might get another black eye!".

My pints of Guinness were FREE! Another musician got up and played the blues with me. The whole thing was very female dominated and empowered. I heartily thanked everyone for spending their money in the ghetto, and not at Koi in Hess Village! I also complimented the audience on their beauty, which totally rivalled Koi (swishy upscale joint that discriminates against fat people). The girls were again trying to give me hickeys. I am so happy to be on the cutting edge of a tide in fun gigs at a gentrified location, proudly ridding itself of past ghosts like homophobia, violence, and chicken wire around the stage. I need to work on getting paid more.

Career!

I am feeling a tide of energy around career happening with me. I have been in neutral for many years now. My little astrologer friend Marta would chalk it up to Saturn transiting my 7th and 8th houses for the last five years! I am at heart a ***ROCK STAR***, mystic hippie priestess of feminist theology, and Renaissance Woman/Bon Vivant, but I got a very good real-world offer today that involves some skoolin' in economics (which I do read for fun anyway, seriously I do), and financial markets. And Lordy knows Mama needs NEW SHOES. Preferably Merrills and Rockports, good for walkin' in. When you grow up on an Amityville/Value Village wardrobe as your only options, you could develop issues around clothing. Like I have. So I am poised to move out of the pink-collar ghetto if I want to. The way is being paved. Doors are opening and green lights are a-flashing. I feel kind of excited. Certain finance courses are golden keys to jobs ... like at VanCity Credit Union in Vancouver!!! Or wherever, just thinking out loud here.

Musically, I am at the top of my game. I got the sweetest revenge yesterday: I got some PLUM GIGS at my neighbourhood bar, replacing my "ex" and ever-present nemesis, Freddy, who fucked it up last week, getting himself booed off stage and a black eye. He always told me what a bad musician I was. WHO'S SORRY NOW, MOFO? Yes, $50 an hour to do what I love and wail out with a wah-wah pedal is sweeeeeet revenge. HEE HEE! And legions of friends and supporters coming out to see the AMMER JAMMER SLAMMIN ON THE HAMMER!!!

I took a vacation day tomorrow, just because. My homie Chrissy & I are going for pedicures, then my Supper Club meets for dinner at 6:30, then onto my gig at 10:00. I CAN'T WAIT!

My High School Reunion Coming Up

I have charged ahead and organized a reunion for my homies from Cathedral Girls' Class of 1989 in September. It started on Facebook, with a few of us talking about getting together, then it ballooned into an event. I am having slight issues with a few things that I would assume plague a lot of reunion-goers:

1. My atrophied career: How do I introduce myself in one minute or less, like they teach you at those Seven Highly Effective Secrets of Mormons conferences? "Hi, I'm A.M.P.. Remember me? Well, now I'm a Renaissance Woman, a generalist, not a specialist, I have a half baked unfinished general arts degree. I know I was smart in school, but now I am a glorified secretary. I have a huge ass now, I have free range pet birdies who shit all over and a 25-pound fat cat, no kids. I "can't bear children". I have a crazy old man. He's really crazy. I have racked up so much debt, I'm like a cokehead. I need to have lots of stuff stuffing my life. I am a Bon Vivant, a helluva vegan chef, prone to terrible bouts of depression, but I have never ever let myself go am always sparkling clean and hygenic. You could eat off my ass. I am afraid to leave the four block radius of my childhood, and still live minutes from my Mommy and Daddy. I am a lesbian, too. I am a superb musician and singer, though. Do I have any gigs lined up? Uh, no, I don't, ummm, I don't know why."

2. My 90 pound weight gain: "Hey, I can still get my kilt on one thigh. I threw it out, though. I weigh the same as my Mother - I think that I couldn't get to 300 pounds if I tried now."

3. My strange relationship: "No, I'm not married. No, we've been together for ten years. No, no ring; I have issues with wearing something that a small child probably lost an arm obtaining. He's twice my age. I'm Anne Marie the 4th I am, I'm Anne Marie the 4th I am I am. He "can't bear children" either. But that's OK, because I'm a lesbian too."

4. My goals: "Yes, I still want to be a rock star. Haven't you been to an Am Jam? Oh my God, you must come to one."

One thing has remained constant since graduation: I am still unclassifiable. That is the Pisces way!

27 Weeks Later...

It seems that I have been remiss in posting to my LJ. It's high time I shared some thoughts.

I have a lovely friend in Vancouver who is like Stacey London on "What Not To Wear". She even looks like her. She is a fashion maverick who reinvents herself every season (like Madonna!), who always kind of looks like a fresh flower, and smells amazing. I spent a week with her recently. She took me shopping,and had me try on some dresses that I would normally not be caught dead in at my 217.6 pounds. She looked me up and down, and said, "You are BODACIOUS - wearing all black or not, you are not fooling anyone about your size!" I was taken aback, but then it was as if a lightbulb went off, and now I am wearing flowery fruity colourful "get-ups" (to borrow a quote from Maya Angelou) complete with matchy-matchy purses. I notice that my boobs are outrageous and distracting, but maybe they are meant to be. I have been hiding from exuberance and joy in personal expression for too long. I am still not ready to wear big floral prints on the bottom half, though, fat accepting as I am. Maybe next season!

I am aching to do music. I have an amazing selection of songs all ready to go, a fabulous sound system, and all the confidence in the world, but no gigs lined up. I was truly inspired by Andrea Koziol, a blues singer who I saw at the Vancouver Folk Festival, and some of the reggae acts. I need to sing and perform. I need gigs. BADLY. Does anyone have any suggestions on how to get gigs? I am kind of slow that way.

Mister Senor Love Daddy

The radio announcer in Spike Lee's "Do The Right Thing" was the sexy Samuel L. Jackson, as Mister Senor Love Daddy, and I have searched the net high and low to find a transcript of his ROLL CALL. It is nowhere to be found. For the benefit of other Spike Lee lovers looking for the text, here it is, from one music freak to another!

(Written by Spike Lee, 1989)

"We LOVE ROLL CALL, Y'ALL!
Boogie Down Productions
Rob Base
Dana Dayne
Marley Marle
Ola Tunji
Chuck D
Ray Cahrles
EP MD
Eu
Alberta Hunter
Run DMC
Stetsosonic
Sugar Bear
John Coltrane
Big Daddy Kane
Salt'n'Pepa
Luther Vandross
McKoy Tyner
Bizmarkie
New Edition
Otis Redding
Anita Baker
Thelonius Monk
Marcus Miller
Branford Marsalis
James Brown
Wayne Shorter
Tracey Chapman
Miles Davis
Force MD's
Oliver Nelson
Fred Wesley
Macy O
Janet Jackson
Louis Armstrong
Duke Ellington
Jenny Jam
Terry Lewis
George Clinton
Count Basie
Em Tu May
Stevie Wonder
Bobby McFerrin
Dexter Gordon
Sam Cooke
Paul McFunkadelic
Al Jarreau
Teddy Pendergrass
Joe Williams
Wynton Marsalis
Phyllis Hyman
Sade
Sarah Vaughn
Rolland Kirk
Keith Sweat
Cool Mo Dee
Prince
Ella Fitzgerald
Diana Reeves
Aretha Franklin
Bob Marley
Bessie Smith
Whitney Houston
Dionne Warwick
Steel Pulse
Little Richard
Mahalia Jackson
Jackie Wilson
Connonball AND Nick Adderly
Quincy Jones
Marvin Gaye
Charles Inglis
AND
Marion Williams

We wanna thank you all for makin' our lives just a little brighter here on We Love Radio!"

MMM. Gotta love it. I would love to see an updated list for 2007!

My Cans

Well, now, WHO can resist the call to write about ones sisters? Not I. Not now. Not ever.

A hearty Hamilhole shoutout to Melissa in Vancouver, who is one of the very few other large lady lovers that I know: the pint-sized, super athletic dyke who introduced me to the concept of Fat Pride, and the joy of articulating out loud that big girls are where it's at. And with whom I was photographed with my voluptuous 40DDD cans wrapped around her little fuzzy head. (That picture floats aound somewhere, along with the one of Paige dropping her drawers on the Sea To Sky Highway, with Melissa guffawing in the background). Ahh, fond memories of Vancouver. And Wreck Beach with a guy peddling funny brownies, squatting to chat, while the tip of his dick rested in the sand, then getting up and walking around oblivious to the itchiness of it all and the remaining ring. Yikes.

I am committed to getting my cans out there this year, in time for the Folk Festival. I hope I am not charged extra freight!!!

PS. HA HA! You have snow and we don't!

Gigs are Good for my Soul

I just got back from playing at a Christmas open house party in Oakville, on a street that I imagine looks just like Wisteria Lane (I have never seen the show, so I can only surmise). It was packed with well-behaved kids who all have Phillipino nannies and bowl cuts. It was catered and in a beautiful house. I was the entertainment, and I am always amazed at my ability to blend in with anybody. My show was a real hit. I was in fine form. Any request that they hollered out I was able to do really quickly! Someone actually told me that I could quit my day job!!! Now THAT'S a big compliment. My boss was there, and was impressed. It was a good hair day, to boot. I feel that I have come into my own: I have had many years of bad boyfriends, low self esteem, co-dependence, debt, etc. But I felt that all those lessons have gelled and I am now a fully formed person, ready and confident to take on any new challenge. It's a great feeling. Or maybe I am just on a high from playing. In any case, I feel fabulous!