In a spur of the moment decision, Eddie and I decided to meet halfway between New Jersey and North Carolina to see each other over the-3 day holiday weekend. We weren’t planning on it, but suddenly the thought of missing an opportunity to spend a little time together seemed unbearable. We took off around midnight, after I finished a job in the city and met somewhere in Virginia at six in the morning. After sleeping the day away, we woke up that evening starved and decided to walk next door to the Cracker Barrel. It was a beautiful spring day, no need for a jacket. The trees were in bloom and the sky was clear. I realized how lucky we were for so many reasons. First, that neither of us fell asleep at the wheel as we struggled to stay alert and awake in the wee hours of that morning. Second, how we’re willing to do those kinds of things for each other. It’s those moments that I feel more and more certain we’re meant to be with each other and we’re each other’s best friend. That evenin...

Last night I had a gig in Brooklyn booked for 8 pm. For this particular event, however, I had to bring a mike, mike stand, amp, cables, and a bag of sheet music. And because I have no "roadie," I had to drive my own car in order to transport everything by myself. I decided to leave my house freakishly early because I've never driven to Brooklyn before and I didn't want to risk being late or even the stress of cutting it too close. I arrived in Brooklyn and parked my car in a nearby garage about 2 hours early. This being only the 2nd time in my entire life to set foot in Brooklyn, I had no idea what to do with myself when I walked out of the parking garage. I looked left. I looked right. Then decided to walk until I found a Starbucks or Dunkin Doughnuts and sit for 2 hours. After several blocks, I had no such luck. Apparently, there is no coffee chain on every corner in Brooklyn like there is in Manhattan or New Jersey. I broke down and decided to do some shopping. Y...

I hate the feeling of fear and panic. Sometimes for me, it is all too familiar when I look at my calendar, practically void of any booked jobs or gigs. Suddenly, in a matter of seconds, it triggers feelings of failure, unproductiveness, and even foolishness for moving here in the first place. I think, shouldn’t I be farther along by now? And what if I’m still in the same place in a year? I thought about the encouragement people give when someone is trying to reach a goal. In the Army, learning to run can be challenging for some. We would tell the struggling runner that it doesn’t matter how slow they run, just as long as they keep running. I thought about when I am playing a song at a venue and I miss a note, or forget a lyric or chord. I never stop in the middle of a performance, I just keep playing… something . I thought about when I tried to teach Eddie how to dance and he missed a step, or became so wrapped up in counting that he lost the rhythm. I told him, “Just keep dancing.” ...

My older sister, Regina, and I have a special bond. We’re close in age and grew up as each other’s built-in-best-friend and playmate. My mother dressed us in matching outfits and we often were mistaken for twins. We played barbies in the basement, pioneer girls outside, board games at the kitchen table, and Regina made up a game called, queen and slave (I always had to be the slave, but I was ok with it). At Christmas, we set up an ornament-making factory downstairs where we created decorations with orange juice cans, yarn, glitter, and cut up Hallmark cards. We spent Sunday mornings giggling uncontrollably in church, eventually having to be separated after getting the evil eye from our mom. Yes, we fought like any siblings. I have a scratch on my chin in my 2 nd grade school picture to prove it, but we were always there for each other. We remember the really “old days,” living in my grandparents basement, playing with Grandma’s big blue curlers under the dining room table, findi...

Like painting a work of art, writing a book, or constructing a house, there is a process in creating a song. Everyone does it a little bit different, but this is how I do it. First, an idea will hit me. It may be a word, a sentence, or an idea that needs to articulated into a rhyme later. I have about a million of them written down in a spiral notebook and a small pad I keep in my purse for just that reason. Some get written into songs, others will remain in that notebook for all time. I've found the ones that become the best songs in the end, are the ones that seem to overflow onto paper without me even thinking about it. Or when I can’t move my pen fast enough to get the words down. All of my songs are personal for some reason. Not that I’ve personally experienced what I describe in all of my songs, but they’re personally inspired in some way, shape, or form. I try to put music with the lyrics as I write. I find that if I do lyrics and music separate, the lyrics almost always ...

I spent my weekend googling, practicing, and memorizing blues standards. Although I have a repertoire full of jazz and boogie-woogie, I have only a couple genuine blues songs and next week I’m booked playing an entire blues set for hour and a half straight. I’ll be impressed if I keep the crowd entertained that long, considering blues is the same 3 chords played in the same format over and over again. I began with the basics, Ray Charles, Jimmy Rogers, Ottis Redding, even some Bo Diddley. And soon my fears of monotony were put at ease when I discovered the full spectrum of the blues genre. I even found several new lines to add to my “greatest lyrics ever” list: “If you don’t think you’ll come home soon, I’m gonna drown in my own tears” - Ray Charles “You aint nothing but a hound dog, been snoopin round my door. You can wag your tail, but I ain’t gonna feedjya no mo.” – Etta James “Put you down in a ditch with a great long spade.
Wish to God that you hadn't never been made.” – Edd...

Mass transportation in this area can be a horrible experience. The buses are rarely on time, the drivers are usually cranky, and the other passengers are either rude, smelly, or a little creepy. And anyone can completely transform into the Hulk if all the unspoken “mass-transit courtesy” rules are not followed. I’ve seen drivers throw tantrums like 2-year olds when a tourist doesn’t pay with exact change. I’ve seen passengers practically break out into a fistfight because the reading light was on and no one was reading. I even saw a bus driver stop the bus, get up from his drivers seat, walk back to a seated passenger, and yell at them for accidently hitting the stop button. And it doesn’t end with the buses. The subways have their rules too. When you get on, you go to the back or middle to make room for the next group boarding. You don’t talk to anyone, or look at anyone unless you want to get hit on or start a fight. Overall, the experience can be cold and intimidating. I began to f...