Taking stock (and a breath)

I've been twenty-nine for a month now. That leaves me eleven months to do lots of cool stuff. That way, by the time I'm thirty, I can say "Yeah, I did that back in my twenties," or people can think, "Wow, and she did all that before she was thirty." I'm doing my best, but I doubt I'll move mountains or anything, which I guess is okay. I can be a slightly cool twenty-nine year-old and still sleep okay at night.

I've always been inclined to give myself ultimatums. I'm not sure why, really, but it's always been something I do. And some of them will be weird, too... like if I'm trying to accomplish something, I might say that, by the time my hair has grown to a certain length, I will have gotten that certain thing done. I use dates, too, of course, but that's more of a daily thing. For weekly or monthly goals, it tends to get strange. It's like I'm constantly racing with time and the things that abide by it. The race, though, is usully no more than competitive sport for me. It's fun, actually, to try to get something accomplished before the buzzer. Perhaps that explains my penchant for procrastination... the thrill of the chase of the deadline? To be honest, I wouldn't put it past me. It's strange, I know, but it's a rush, no matter how you look at it. Some people would consider waiting till the last minute on finishing a paper or project to be nothing more than an issue of laziness or disoranization. I'm the nut that actually plans things that way. Jeeze... thinking about it now makes me think I'm something of a twit... I get by pretty well, though, so I can't be doing too badly, despite my bizzare motivations in schedule-making.

I had a hell of a day on Tuesday. I got up in the morning and got ready for my photo shoot, which would provide images for the website and the CD insert. It was minutes before I had to leave, and I still hadn't decided what I was going to wear... I had to choose two outfits for the shoot. I ended up layering my outfits, one over the other, so I could save time on changing when I got out there. Then, as I was leaving, Jane made a change here and there... made me change jackets, added a scarf... and I was off. After getting a little lost in the financial district, I finally found my makeup artist, Nicole, who was waiting for me at a Starbucks down the street from City Hall. We discussed the two looks for the day over a quick breakfast, then walked over to the fountian at City Hall Park, where we'd be meeting Casey, the photographer. While we waited, Nicole sat me down on a park bench and started my makeup. That was weird... having people walk by and stare, even stop and point and ask one another if I was someone... certainly not something I was expecting. A little before she finished on my first look, Casey showed up and got ready; we did some shots at the fountain (where this one was taken), and then he moved us to a nearby street with some cool stairs and doorways. From there, I changed clothes, Nicole did new makeup things to my face, and we were off to the pier, where we got a great view of the Brooklyn Bridge. By the end of the two-hour shoot, we were laughing, telling each other stories, and getting pretty comfortable with one another. Next time I do one of these, I'm definitely using the same crew. (Incidentally, if you want to see more of these, go to my website... the link is over on the left.)

I headed straight from the shoot to my recording session with Craig, who I'd chatted up over the last couple of days and was ready to start working with. We have a great woring dynamic... very give and take... and I think we complement each other nicely. The proof can be found on the website... I've posted the song we did, which we finished in one sitting, suprisingly. After that was over, I went home, sat down, and zoned out. Talk about a long day... but I have to keep this up, don't I? I mean, I only have eleven months. I'm giving myself till March to finish the CD, so I should be able to make that deadline. I'm also performing at least every other weekend at different venues, just getting out there and keeping myself freaked out enough to keep working like I've got everything to lose. Maybe, by the time I'm thiry-five or something, I can be a rock star. Or by the time my hair's grown longer. Or something like that.