Beth Hart!

If you stripped away all my outer layers-- the hair, the skin, and the flesh-- at the very core of all that I am, you would find Beth Hart lyrics. So, when I found out she was coming to Raleigh, I couldn't buy my ticket fast enough! You don't understand how much this woman's music means to me, and I got the chance to rock out with her in person!

I know this genre isn't for everyone, but her style is only part of her magic. At the end of the day, what matters more than anything, is whether or not the words of a song can touch you, and this woman has been feeling me up since the very first time I heard L.A. Song. I'd left California in 1998, to go to college, and the song spoke to me. I knew what it felt like to flee L.A., my home, everything I'd ever known, only to find I was essentially still the same person. I couldn't outrun myself. "She left a note, by the phone -- Don't leave a message, 'cause this ain't no home."

At some point, I bought that album, Screamin' for my Supper. Beth is heart-breakingly honest about her struggles with addiction and substance abuse, and that record is a gritty, sometimes violent, depiction of her of her battle with those fearsome demons. Strangely, I found dark reflections of my self in every song, though I've never done an illegal drug in my entire life. Despite our differences, when she puts her pen to her paper, my soul bleeds out onto the page. I know every word to every song on that album. I remember thinking once that if she was that good when she was strung out, what would she be like sober?

About two years ago, I got sucked into Pintrest when I should have been working on my book, and I came across a Beth Hart song I'd never heard before. She'd fallen off my proverbial map after the early 2000's, though I often listened to my one CD. The song, Like You (And Everyone Else), is so different from everything I'd heard of hers before. Her earlier music is wild, aggressive, and strong. Like You is the epitome of vulnerability. 

I immediately scoured Youtube for more and found a treasure trove of new music -- new to me, anyway. Now in recovery, Beth is making the most soulful music of her career. Her sound is less rock, and more blues, but still edgy. There's a playful side to her as well, like we saw in Delicious Surprise, and she's still having fun with songs like Bang Bang Boom Boom and Chocolate Jesus. Her aching, sad songs are my favorites, but she writes upbeat jams, as well. Better Man, Learning To Live, and Beautiful Child follow that vein. 

The songs I love most from her, though, are the ones that I know must have hurt to write; Sister Heroine, Baddest Blues, Leave The Light On, Life is Calling, Over You, and Tell 'Em To Hold On.

Sadly, the show was over way too soon. There were a ton of songs she didn't sing that I missed. I was waiting for Mechanical Heart, Mama and Tell Her You Belong To Me, but she didn't do those. Beth didn't do L.A. Song either. I did get to see her sing my favorite song, though. I recorded it, even though they told us not to. I couldn't NOT record it. This song is where I'm at in my own life right now. It's how I feel in the quiet moments, when I take stock of where I am, and what I have, and how far I still have to go to get to where I want to be. It hurts to hear the words, but they comfort me in a weird way. This song is everything!

The show was amazing! The theater was filled with true fans who knew the words and appreciated the sound. It was awesome just to be a part of that, to be there in that room. The best part was getting to hear her tell the stories behind the songs, how they came to be, what she was going through when she wrote them. That's all music really is-- a story. Beth Hart is truly a master storyteller!

I got all fancified to go to the show. I even wore make up! Just in case I thought I was looking too cute, though, I fell in the hotel parking lot and scuffed both my knees. And, yes, there were witnesses. I also dropped my phone at the theater and cracked my screen. Still, nothing could ruin this night. My knees are sore, but they'll heal. My phone can be repaired. Nothing will ever tarnish the memory of sitting on that balcony, eating Milk Duds, drinking Blue Moon, and listening to one of the best female Blues singers in the world.

I rented a hotel in Durham because I thought the show would run late and I'd be too tired to drive all the way back to Raleigh. The concert ended before ten, though, and I was amped up as I drove away, regretting that I'd forked over the cash to stay in town. I got back to my room and immediately started writing this blog post. I don't think I even finished the first paragraph before the exhaustion hit me. I woke up at 3:00am, face down on my laptop, with the left over Milk Duds still in my hand. I went pee, cleared off the bed, and fell right back to sleep. I guess it was just too much excitement for one day. So, it's a good thing I didn't try to make that forty-five minute drive, after all.

So, Beth Hart was the highlight of February, and she was fabulous! This is also my "health" month. Not all my doctor's appointments have gone as well. I'll tell you more about that later. March will be "Car" month. I'll also be seeing Katt Williams, Garth Brooks and, possibly, Martin Lawrence, I've still got lots to look forward to this year! It's crazy to think how much fun I've had so far, and we're only two months in!

Making the Leap

My plans for this year all revolve around getting outside of my comfort zone. So, I've planned some pretty exciting adventures. The first of these being a trip to the Riverbanks Zoo in Columbia, South Carolina for my first ever zip lining experience. I use the term "scared" very loosely here. In case you're curious, this is the face of pure terror. It took a long time to work up my nerve. After a while, the others lost patience with me. I rallied, though, and managed to make the leap. The footage is deceptive, it took about eight minutes for me to grow the balls needed to toss myself out into thin air, but I did it! And, I was super classy about the whole thing!

Admittedly, my first time was rough but, like my nephew said, "At some point, it just gets easier." We also climbed cargo nets and repelled down from the platforms twice. I didn't include that footage because it mostly showed my bad side. By "bad side", I mean my backside. It was a very unflattering angle. Take my word for it.

I survived, though. It helped that I had family with me, and a very supportive group. Dalton and Emily, our guides, couldn't have been more helpful. I'm truly grateful to them! And the other ladies in our group were so friendly and kind! They made the experience even better than I imagined.

I wish I had something inspiring to say about facing fears, taking the first step, letting go and trusting the universe, but none of that is coming to me. I'm really glad I did it and, despite what you saw in those first videos, I'd do it again in a heart beat. Still, when I look back at it, I'm just happy I didn't shit on myself, or die, on camera.

Cows are our friends, not food.

So, we kicked off 2016 with a bang! January was really about making plans and getting the ball rolling, which we did. February, my 'physical well-being' month, is already well under way. I'll share more about that later.

I'm truly excited about this year! I can't wait to share it with you!

Aries and Hou and Black Enough

I always thought I was black.

Bullied for my fair skin, "good" hair, and inability to become sufficiently ashy, as a child I ardently defended my right to call myself black. My more richly hued "friends" and family insisted my black wasn't really black because my light-skinned complexion would have earned me a coveted spot in the master's house. It seemed as if they believed my lack of pigmentation were some magical shield against racism. I fought back with the horrors of being a "house nigger" during slavery, an outcast during the civil rights movement, and an outsider even today. Still, more often than not, I walked away from those debates feeling like I didn't belong in my own body. I didn't feel like I belonged any where.

I was black once, though.

At a small cafe in rural Texas, at the age of twenty-three, I learned for the first time what it was like to be hated for the color of my skin. This "white racism" was different from my experiences with black people who somehow missed the irony in shaming me for not being darker. These complete strangers hated me. They stared me down until I truly feared for my life. Their hatred rolled off of them in waves, and I drowned in it. A piece of me died that day; a piece I never even knew existed until I watched it succumb to a flood of rage I still don't understand, more than a decade later.

I'm black enough now.

With age comes perspective. I can see now why there are black people who don't think I understand what it truly means to be black. They weren't there with me that day in Bandera, Texas. They don't know what I saw, what I felt. And yet, for many of them, that kind of racism can happen any where. It happens every where. But I've had the luxury of living hatred-free every day before, and every day since I left that red-neck, podunk, backwoods town behind me. So, the way I figure it, I'm black enough; black enough to understand what it means to be black in America even if I may not have to suffer the indignity of racism every day. And I understand that, for some, I will never be black enough. I'll never be enough of anything for those people. Still, in a way, they're right. Well, they're half-right.

The fact of the matter is, I'm black and white.

Being bi-racial is a different experience than being black. For me, it's been a lot like being Mexican. I look Hispanic, I know. Being from California, a state with a large Mexican population, it's an easy assumption to make. I also spent a few years being Portuguese in Hawaii. I don't think I've ever even met a Portuguese person but, apparently, I bare a resemblance. In the years since I left Oahu, I've been Hawaiian a few times too. It seems my race has always been a matter of how people treated me, instead of a culture to which I belonged. I still don't belong any where. I identify more with my astrological sign, even the Chinese Zodiac, more than I do with my race. Still, knowing who I am has brought me a long way toward being comfortable in my own skin, no matter what color it happens to be.

13 Hours: The Secret Soldiers of Benghazi

Growing up in the 80's and 90's with Bruce Willis-esque heroes, I have a certain fondness for action movies. There's a formula to these things. The hero is introduced as a normal guy, with normal problems, but then the bad guys show up and you find out the good guy is actually a total bad-ass. He whoops everyone's ass, but gets banged up pretty bad in the process. In the end, though, the good guy wins, the bad guys die, and we walk out feeling like we are somehow braver and stronger just for having watched the movie. It's not real. You know it's not real, but it's entertaining.

In 13 Hours: The Secret Soldiers of Benghazi, the heroes really are normal people with normal problems; tactical, skilled, and well armed, but normal. They have money problems, family issues, poor work/life balance, and asshole co-workers. The bad guys are nameless, faceless, and indistinguishable from just about everyone else around them. Which, honestly, makes them far more terrifying. The good guys can't win this fight. We know that. We all saw the news coverage. This movie makes it real, though, in a way the media could not.

War movies aren't my thing,but I was strangely eager to see this one. I expected muscle bound, ex-pro wrestler types with little to no acting skills. Boy, was I wrong. This movie was brought to the big screen in an effort to tell the story of what really happened that night and, at the end of the film, that's what I walked away with. War is real. There was no effort to glamorize or glorify. There were no political agendas. It was what it was, and this movie truly moved me. If you haven't seen it yet, please do.

The Curse of the Final Payment

I finally made the last payment on my car, Salvatore, only to get a flat tire the very same week!

I've known for some time that Sal needs new tires. In 2014, I had to replace one of his tires because I ran over something and it was beyond repair. The guy at Firestone told me to replace them all then, but I'm not balling like that, so I just replaced the one and figured I'd replace the others when I had the money. Of course, I've had the money several times over, I just chose to spend it on other things. As fate would have it, the huge nail I ran over last week punctured my one good tire. So, I was riding around on three bald tires and a donut when snow flurries started falling today.

I'd already made my appointment at Firestone for Friday to replace all Sal's tires and have the one decent tire patched to use as a spare. With the potential for snow and ice, though, I decided to go ahead and have the patch done so I could take the donut off. Turns out, even though I was too cheap to change out all the tires when I was supposed to, I did opt for the warranty on the tire I bought. So, the patch didn't cost me anything. That's the good news.

The bad news is, replacing all four tires is going to cost me $400.00! Obviously, I'll be getting the warranty on the new tires since it came in handy this time around. Still, in addition to needing new tires, the check engine light came on about two months ago, the driver's side door only opens from the outside, and I need an oil change and a tune up. Oh, and an Inspection. And I need to renew my registration, which expired last April.

I know, I suck at car maintenance. Don't judge me. I swore I would do better this year. I absolutely do not want another car payment any time soon! So, this one has to last me. Besides, who knows what damage I would have done trying to skate through another winter with shoddy tires? 

Now, for the worst news ...

My credit score dropped twenty-eight points because I paid my car off! Twenty-eight points! I'm devastated. I've been working really hard to repair my credit. So, seeing my score plummet just broke my heart. I knew it would happen. I'd requested a raise in the limit on my credit card to balance things out, but I didn't anticipate such a dramatic affect. I feel like I can't win for losing. 

Still, I'm grateful the car is paid off and, because of that, I'll have the cash I need to tend to my vehicle. My credit score will recover with time, I just have to be patient. That's not exactly one of my virtues, but I'm working on it.

And So The Adventure Begins

January started slow for me. I didn't make any extreme exercise or diet plans. I don't have a fixed budget. I made no promises about who I would spend time with, how many books I would read, or how many hours I would devote to writing. Instead, I ate what we have at the house, only got off the couch for activities essential to survival, and spent most the the day staring at either my laptop or my phone with no real purpose. Although, obviously, I've managed to get some blogging done. 

Apart from a dull, constant headache, it's been lovely! This is my year for adventures, so I'm appreciating the down time. I'm happy to chill for a few days and bask in the inertia. I expect the rest of the year to fly by a warp speed!

I've alluded several times to my big plans for this year, without giving any specific details. I hate when people do that, so I apologize. The truth is, if I told you everything I have on my calendar, your very first question would be, "How are you going to pay for all that?" To which, I would reply, "I have no idea." 

There's something magical about having dreams bigger than your budget, though! Still, when the time comes to buy plane tickets and book hotels, either the money is there or it's not. Let's hope I find a way to make it be there. 

In the mean time, my first event of the year is relatively inexpensive but, by far, the most terrifying. I'm telling you about it, hoping you'll keep me accountable, because there is about a 75% chance that I'll chicken out. So, basically, there's a 20% chance that I'll be zip lining at the Riverbanks Zoo in Columbia, SC at the end of the month. The other 5% are my odds of having a heart attack before the whole thing even begins. 

I'm afraid of heights. Not nervous, or anxious, but truly afraid. Like, I can't decide if I should vomit or faint, so I'll just stop breathing-- that kind of afraid! My two older nephews will be with me. Typically, this would make me brave. I don't want them to be scared, so I'll have to keep it together. I'm not counting on their presence to calm me, though. Thus, there's a 50% chance my "water bottle" will contain a little liquid courage. While it may increase the odds of me vomiting, it may diminish my capacity to give a damn. Either way, I'll let you know how it goes.

The Right Foot

Financial goals are a staple of new year's resolutions, and I certainly plan to make strides in that regard during 2016. January will mark the first time in three and a half years that I will not have to make a car payment. Yes, it's official, my car is paid in full!

What does that mean for my bottom line? It means an extra $4289.76 toward my budget for the new year. Oddly, that's not the part I'm excited about. I've got so much happening this year, that money is already spent. I'm positively thrilled, though, to get out from under the pressure of that loan. My car payment was really more than I could afford but, when I signed the papers, it was the best I could do. Now that it's gone, I feel like I can breath again! It's such a relief! 

My school loans still have me in a choke hold, and that's not my only debt, but it all seems less daunting now that I'll have a little more wiggle room in my bank account each month. It's motivating to have this happen now, right at the beginning of what I am convinced will be my year. I'm definitely starting out in the right foot!