slept in. worked out. ate a piece of nuked roasted chicken, sipped tea from my sam (adams) jackson beer glass and practiced guitar scales while chasing down a mint condition vintage diane von furstenberg wrap dress on ebay with one eye and watching foster's home for imaginary friends on cartoon network with the other. got the dress, thank God -- and in the last 10 minutes of bidding! put down my guitar, got up and did a happy dance in my underwear. i promised myself three for my birthday. one down, two to go.
made and recieved a flurry of business phone calls, emails and letters/bills/packages, one of which was the contract for jc hopkins biggish band -- for some reason, i've been too out of it to sign on the dotted line. checked in with my manager (for the acting stuff), to see if anything was coming down the pike. it is?! yet another happy dance was clearly in order.
paid a few bills and balanced my checkbook. seriously considered losing my negrovision. wondered if my future sister-in-law was serious when she said that i could come with her and emmett when they went to fiji on their honeymoon in october. my mother calls and says that i'm in ebony magazine for the month of august, for the jc hopkins cd. we talk for a spell. she wants me to start dating again. get back out there, she says, with real gusto. (fat chance.)
renee wants to go to a reading tonight. i can't do it.
made cd packages with the prerequesite radio one sheets for several djs, as requested, to be mailed out later that day. prepped packages for several band/songwritng contests, including the International Songwriting Competition, The Independent Music World Series, The John Lennon Songwriting Contest, and the Independent Music Awards. there's a bunch of other ones, too. i make a calendar that shows deadlines, fees and any other pertinent details i can think of. as i do this, i'm thinking, how else am i supposed to get anyone's attention in this industry?
everything seems to be in order for the rest of the year: beauty day on wednesdays, piano lessons/music theory lessons on tuesdays, guitar lessons on thursdays, housecleaning on saturday mornings, museum visits on sundays. where in the wide world of sports is my voice teacher, the opera singer that i love so much? off i go, to run errands before i disappear into the bowels of midtown for 8 hours and return home at 3:30am or thereabouts, victorious. it is then that i will put on the frilliest nightie i own, prop myself up in bed at the just right angle so i can admire my lovely pedicure, and play guitar and watck adult swim. (it's either that or drawn together. i totally love that show...)
tomorrow, the swing band is at the knitting factory, in the tap bar. i have a closet full of clothes and nothing to wear. suddenly i realize that the vintage wrap dress will get to me in time for the early evening show at joe's pub on friday. (neat-o.) when is soundcheck, anyway? and what time do we start?