Gettin' my hair did

Haircuts here cost twice as much as they did in Baltimore- which was also twice as much as they cost in West Virginia. Sure, it makes sense...kind of. This is the most expensive city in the United States, so for inflation reasons, I get it. But honestly- I don't have much hair. A cut for me is really just a trim- MAYBE an inch. I know it's not exactly fair to charge by the inch, but it's just a bit excessive. I digress.
Knowing that I need a hair cut next month, and I won't be able to visit Baltimore for said cut, I'm saving up now. I also desperately need some color- the tired, summer blonde that has grown out looks awful and does nothing for my skin tone. So, for the first time ever, I bought hair dye. Do-it-yourself-in-the-tub hair dye. I've always had my hair professionally colored, so you must understand- this was a big step.
I got home and promptly asked Robert if he would help me, and as it turns out, he's an old pro. Putting on his "salon quality colorist gloves", he set to work on my head, and after the 25 minutes were up, we rinsed my scalp to reveal quite a nice dye job! It looks very natural- albeit a bit dark at first, but that always happens with my hair. Think anyone has noticed? Nope. Not one person. Kind of like when I got my new glasses- the only people to notice them were my roommates, and the lady who works in my building's cafeteria.
I wonder what kind of reaction I would get if I shaved my head and wore assless chaps: "Hilary, is that a new shirt?"

Boccismo!

I've joined a bocce ball team. Yeah- the sport that is commonly played by 78-year-old Italian men is being reinvented by cool 20 and 30 somethings at Brooklyn's Union Hall.
Initially, the only reason I agreed to join the team is because I have a massive crush on our team's captain, and when he asked me if I was interested, I said, "Of course! Count me in! Sounds like fun. Oh, I don't know anything about the sport. Is that a problem?" Luckily, my friend Bucket agreed to join the league as well, so I wouldn't be among complete strangers. After much deliberating (actually there was no deliberation on the name), we decided to call ourselves Boccismo! With an exclamation point. That's part of the name- get it? We need a minimum of 4 players in order to compete, but can have up to 10 on our team. Including the random people we met last night and invited to join Boccismo!, we have about 8 people.
Bocce ball is basically this:
There is a tiny white ball, called the pallino, that is thrown at the beginning of the game. The goal is to get your ball as close to the pallino as possible. Players rotate according to whose ball is the closest to the pallino. In the end (I'm not going to illustrate all the rules now), the person (or team in my case) with the balls closest to the pallino wins. The number of points is determined by how many of the winning balls are closest to the pallino. Pretty easy concept, no? It's a game of strategy. Strategy and beer.
This is Union Hall's first ever bocce ball league. There are 3 nights set aside for games- Saturdays, Sundays, and Mondays. We will be playing on Monday nights, opening with a triple header 2 weeks from now. I have to say, after last night's practice, I'm pretty freakin' excited. Like most sports, I figured I would be pretty awful at bocce ball. Once again- I only joined the team so I could hang out with Brian on a weekly basis. (Yes, that's his name- I'm not using a code name because I'm fairly sure he would never find this blog. And because he already knows I'm in love with him.) But, after kicking some ass last night, I'm now in it to win it.
After Brian went over the rules with Bucket, John (another friend), and I, we started playing. I beat Bucket in the first game, and played Brian. I beat Brian. Then Brian and I teamed up against Bucket and John, but we lost. We probably played about 10 games throughout the night- random people kept asking if they could play winner, and we met some other good players.
All in all, I would say Boccismo! is shaping up to be a damn good team. We will be wearing costumes: white V-necks w/ lotsa chest hair, Boccismo! on the front (Boccisho! for me- get it? ho???), and fake moustaches. Our goal is to be the renegades of the league- and to be the champions.

Viva Boccismo!

What's cooler? Seeing Butterfly broadcast at Times Square, or seeing David Bowie at the performance?

It's Suburbia

One thing I really miss about living anywhere but NYC is going to Target. And to Wal-Mart. And to Michael's Crafts. I never thought I'd miss strip malls, but I do; especially around this time of year. I used to LOVE going to those joints, looking for Halloween decorations, Christmas decorations, craft projects, candles, etc. After gathering the materials to make my wreath or whatever, I would go home, light that pumpkin spice candle, have a handful of candy corn, and get to work making some pretty, fall-like thing for the front door.
Nowadays, after a long day, work out, cooking dinner, laundry, and showering, it's already 9:30 PM and I really don't have the energy or interest to make something out of fake leaves. It's sad, really. I miss it, just like I miss my 15 minute commute, car, and privacy. But I digress.
Tonight, I'm going to Target for the first time in 6 months. I haven't set foot in any sort of general department store since leaving Baltimore. (And this Target is in Brooklyn, for God's sake. I may as well drive to Towson.) Even though I'm only stopping in Target so my friend Bucket can return some sheets, I'm REALLY excited. I told him that while we only have a limited time there (b/c we have our first bocce ball team practice tonight- more on that tomorrow), I plan to make a B-line for the purses and workout clothes. And even though I won't be buying any wreath-making gear, you better believe that my final stop will be the Halloween section.

Tour Guide

Before moving to New York, the roommates and I decided that we would not play host to random couch-crashers. Meaning, if you don't talk to me on a regular basis and I don't really consider you a friend, you ain't stayin with me. Fortunately, I haven't had any fair weather friends appear out of thin air, but I suspect that time will come. Now, don't get me wrong- I was a couch crasher myself for the past few years, with auditions and apartment hunting. I know that walking around New York with a suitcase in hand completely sucks. It's hard enough to get around this city with nothin' but a purse and a lunchbox. Add a 20 lb duffle bag to the order, and it's a royal PIA.
At any rate, family and real friends are always welcome, and we certainly have had our fair share of those! This weekend, my brother came for his first visit. He hadn't been to New York in several years, and like most people, wasn't familiar with things non-touristy. We did it up right: Friday night, we went to a Mets game with several of my co-workers. Although the Mets lost, it was a great night for a game and my first time to Shea Stadium. On Saturday, we headed to Soho for brunch at Balthazar, walked through Little Italy and C-town on our way to South St. Seaport where we did the Bodies Exhibition, headed uptown to the Chelsea Market, back downtown to Ground Zero, and finally across the river to Brooklyn for a BBQ. Sheesh. Ending the evening with a Brooklyn Pilsner and sweet Italian sausage was just what the doctor ordered. That, and 9 hours' sleep.
So, I've got another 2 weeks until it's time to play tour guide again, when my friend Alex and his girlfriend come to visit for a day. Next up: Oktoberfest at http://www.zumschneider.com/.

Tod und Verzweiflung

Every couple of months, I have a dream (or a nightmare) that I'm backstage, ready to perform, yet I have no idea what I'm about to sing. I'm either sick, ill-prepared, ready to sing an entirely different role, or not yet in costume/not warmed up. And somehow, this dream almost always involves The Queen of the Night. I'm assuming that's because the Queen is the only role I've ever performed for which I felt I was not right. I also happen to hate the role, but that's probably beside the point. Also, I'm not a huge fan of the Magic Flute. But I digress.
Last night I had one of my dreams- only this time, I was almost killed. This time, I was headed on stage to sing Die Holle Rache, but had never rehearsed it with the orchestra, nor staged it. When I told the stage manager that I had no idea what I was about to do, he said, "You've done the role- just do what you think is best." So, I went on stage and sang the aria much like I would in an audition. And since (in the dream) I was sick, it sounded like shit. Kind of like when I sang the role at WVU with bronchitis. Ahhh memories.
After I finished the aria, I went over to the side of the stage where the chorus was seated. All of the sudden, we weren't singing Flute anymore. I immediately noticed, in the chorus, an ex friend of mine from years ago. She took one look at me, and pushed me into the pit. I screamed, and caught myself on the stage, pulled myself up, and started to freak out. The entire cast glared at me, I missed my entrance, and that was it. After I ran off stage and into the dressing room, sobbing, I noticed that everyone was mad at ME for nearly dying in the pit. Forget the fact that the psycho who pushed me was still following me around, threatening me. Even James (yes, of NYCO fame), was there. He just looked at me with a disappointed face, and said, "I'm sorry, Hils."
So, what does this mean? Well, being that is essentially a recurring dream, I've come to realize it's stress-related. What exactly is causing the stress? I don't know. But apparently this is how my mind deals with it- by conguring up horrible images that I must view in my sleep. I supposed it could be worse. I suppose I could be dreaming of death and destruction. But for a performer, does it get much worse than completely failing?

The great shoe debate

I need some new running shoes. Now, I've been wearing the same brand/make/model for the past few years- Brooks Addiction. They are wonderful shoes, and are made for people with flat feet. So what's the issue?
They are a TAD boxy. Not that looks matter all that much in a running shoe, but I also feel like something a bit more slender may aid in my stride. However, I'm not sure a different make or even different brand would provide me with the same level of support, ya dig?
In telling my friend Soren of my problem (and let's face it people- this is serious stuff), he reminded me of the time he had to buy a new pair of earphones for his Ipod, and I quote: " known as earbuds to total fucking assholes who also use the terms "tall," grande," and "venti". " He attempted to buy the EXACT same pair of earphones, but Apple did not have them in stock. So he had to buy a different pair and as he ripped open the package, throwing the wrapping away (foolish), he discovered the cord was too short. After realizing he couldn't keep the Ipod in his pants pocket, he (ironically) snagged the cord near Starbucks on his way to work, and being that he threw away the packaging, he could not return them. Useless.
So, he told me "if it ain't broke, don't fix it." I guess he should have just waited until Apple got his preferred "earbuds" in stock. And I guess I'll stick with Brooks.

Mountain Mama

OK, so I know I haven't written much lately, but what can I say? There ain't much to report from my end. However, check this out. It's a pretty cool story.

Fats Domino

Ever wonder how restaurant critics stay below 400 lbs? Check this out.

Loaded to the gunwales

Today is International Talk Like A Pirate Day. Now, you might notice that the BBC lists "Friday, September 19th" as Talk Like A Pirate day. As long as you're not a complete idiot, you also know that today is Tuesday- not Friday- and it is indeed the 19th. My sister attended a "Talk Like A Pirate Day" party last Friday. So that leads me to question what the actual date is that we are prone to talk like pirates.
At any rate, shiver me timbers, aye, and all that jazz. It's time to talk like a pirate!

Weekend Round Up

I can't believe it's already Monday. We all say this, but seriously- where does the time go? When you're busy, you want things to slow down. When you're bored, you want to be busy. I now know my schedule through the end of October, and I'm sure in a few week's time, I'll have November booked too. Better tell me now if you're having a Christmas party.
At any rate, I saw my friend James sing at City Opera on Saturday night. You know...a little role in an opera called La Boheme? No biggie. He sounded great and looked great, if you like that 6'4", Italian stallion type of dude. How much longer until he's singing Rodolfo at the Met? I give it two years. After l'opera, we headed down to Balthazar's in Soho, where we did it up right- French brasserie style. I never take cabs, yet managed to take TWO that night. I also prefer dive bars or beer bars, yet sipped on Jameson and diet coke until 2 AM. Ah well...you only live once, right?

Parky

There are many many parks in New York City; and thank God for it. These are some of the lesser known parks, but some of the best. Of course, Astoria Park is mentioned (represent!) as is Riverside Park, where I often eat my lunch.

Tall drink o' water

The "nine ft. tall" John Mayer was absolutely amazing last night. We were VIP for the show (as I usually am at Webster Hall when I go with Bucket), so we saw the entire show from the balcony, with plenty of wiggle room and a bar at our backs. Pretty effin' sweet. Besides the fact that Mr. Mayer is a total dreamboat, he's also a badass guitar player. Seriously- the guy can rip. His band was pretty amazing too. It was just a great musical collaboration- they were in tune, together, tight, and ROCKIN'. He mostly played the new album (which you better go buy because it's great), but snuck in a few old favorites as well. The concert was broadcast on AOL last night- if you go to the site, you might be able to find it and listen to it/watch it at work today!

A List

First of all, let me apologize for stupidly writing "no-it-all" in yesterday's post, when clearly it is "know-it-all". Maybe you didn't notice, maybe you did. At any rate, I was having an unclear day, so I've changed it and no longer appear to be an idiot. That is NOT up for discussion.

So here is a list of things I was thinking about during today's commute:

*Why does a cappuccino cost so much more than a drip coffee? Is it the steamed milk? If milk and cream are "free" so to speak, why are they charging twice the amount to steam it and put it in the coffee? It's ridiculous.

*John Mayer's album is really good. I'm seeing him play tonight at Webster Hall. Yay!

*Why do people eat on the subway? That's just about as unsanitary as eating off of the toilet. Gross.

*What should I wear tonight? I hate that I'm short enough that "regular" length pants are too long, but "Short" are usually a bit too short. I'm 5'3"- that's not unusual. There should be better pants options. I hate always rolling up my jeans and then tramping all over them so they are dirty and/or torn.

*Nip/Tuck is my new show. I also like Prison Break.

Good thing I'm not famous

Seriously- I couldn't handle being a celeb. All that criticism from idiot know-it-alls? NO thanks. I typed in my own name on YouTube, curious to see who has checked out the Morrissey Karaoke video from months ago, and surprisingly it has been viewed 3,808 times. Seriously. Apparently people have nothing better to do than search for horrible karaoke videos. But, the great thing is the commentary. Allow me to share with you some of the gems from my new fans:

I'm in love with anyone that loves Morrissey! (2 pts for you!)

Great voice but no offense what type of lame karaoke is this. Clearly the CD is playing and she has to read the lyrics off paper? Horrid. (yeah- I have to agree with this. It was a pretty ghetto setup).

Sorry Morrissey :( (Fuck you!)

Sorry, but this girl would have been better off singing for Barney...or Mr Bean (Aaaaaand fuck you too.)

It's a beautiful song! But the voice..Arghh!!! :-( (Ok, you can seriously rot in hell, asshole.)


See? I'm no good with computer nerd critics. How would I ever deal with US Weekly?

You're on in 5

Well folks, it's been an eventful couple of days. It's not even 9 PM, and I'm already falling asleep. These past few days reminded me of being back in school: crazy rehearsal schedules paired with little sleep and vocal beatdowns. Ahhhh...those were the days.
Rather than bore you with mundane details, I'll highlight the, well, highlights:

At Sunday's Presidential service (which was on CNN), I saw the Pres and Mrs. Bush, Hillary Clinton, Karl Rove, former Mayor Guilani and Mayor Bloomberg. Did you know that the terms left and right wing date back to the British Parliament? I didn't know that. So, they were sitting on the appropriate sides of the church. Hillary on the left, and Bush on the wrong...oops! I mean right. Only kidding! The service wasn't really "touching", but we sang the shit outta the Pärt piece, 'Beatitudes'. If you're not familiar with Matthew 5-7, from which the Sermon on the Mount comes, it's pretty powerful stuff. This is the text to the 'Beautitudes'. Picture, if you can, being able to sing the following text while looking the President in the eye-

Blessed are the clean of heart, for they will see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.
Blessed are they who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness, 9 for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are you when they insult you and persecute you and utter every kind of evil against you (falsely) because of me.
Rejoice and be glad, for your reward will be great in heaven.

I'm not preaching a sermon of my own- but I think you get the picture. Quite a moving piece.

Yesterday's Good Morning America broadcast was cool- I left my apartment at 4:45 AM for a 6:00 AM call. Yes, we did a soundcheck at 6:00 AM, and surprisingly, notes came out. Not good ones, but notes. We sat around for a few hours, waiting for our 45 second spot; apparently, I was on camera for a total of 3-5 seconds. Awesome! More importantly, I totally stalked Sam Champion all morning, as he looks like a real life Ken doll. It was kind of hilarious/riducolous- there he was, broadcasting about the weather with images of 9/11 remembrance in the backgroud. How odd.
We also had a second service (and a third, but I didn't sing that one), which was also taped- it was probably on New York 1, but I don't think any other major networks were there.

Even though I wasn't in New York 5 years ago, I heard accounts of what happened that morning that were all too real. St. Paul's Chapel (where the broadcasts and services were taking place) sits directly in front of Ground Zero. Miraculously, it wasn't damaged during the attacks. It was dusty and dirty, but this historical structure remained standing, despite the amazing carnage and loss surrounding it. I think that's pretty amazing. Over the past few days, I've heard a rabbi,a Greek Orthodox priest, Catholic priests, a Muslim preacher, and of course several Anglican rectors speak . The message is universal- people are people- one nation, under God, with liberty and justice for ALL.

You've Got 5 Minutes

For the remainder of September (and believe me, it's gonna fly people), I'll be singing with the Trinity Wall St. choir. Now, I've already accepted another church job (at Ascension), but that doesn't begin until October 1st, so why not make some extra cash in the mean time? Not to mention, sing with one of the best mixed choirs in New York City. I'll take it.
Last night I had my first marathon rehearsal with the group. All 9 of my readers are mostly singers, so you'll understand me when I say it was pretty intense. The rehearsal was 3 hours long, with one 10 minute break. ONE. Plus, it's all straight tone. Now I'm usually OK with that, since I've been doing Anglican straight tone stuff for the past 4 years. I've always sung Soprano II because I really can't straight tone above an A. And let's be honest, I really don't want to straight tone above an F. So you'll REALLY understand the rawness of my voice when I tell you I was singing Soprano I the whole night. Oy. As hard as it was, it also felt really great to get back in the game- the musicians are stellar, the music is great, and we were all sightreading 90% of the rep. Do you know how many wrong notes were sung? Maybe 5. Now THAT is what I'm talkin' about.

At any rate, the reason for last night's voice-ripping rehearsal was based on the amount of rep. we had to cover for this week. Being that Monday is 9/11, there are more services than usual, and everyone wants a good choir. So, after Sunday morning's service, we break for a few hours before getting back together for a private service for President Bush. Yes- a bunch of more left than right musicians will be performing for the man himself. Do you know what kind of prep. that takes? Apparently, all trains going to the Wall St. area will stop running for an hour or 2. All streets within a 4 block radius of the church will be cleared. No air traffic. And every hotel room that faces Trinity St. Paul's will be vacant. EVERY HOTEL ROOM. That means that anyone who might have booked a room to come visit Ground Zero will be SOL. Oh, and no windows in St. Paul's will be open. We don't even know what entrance the Pres. will be using until 5 minutes before we start singing. The President's days are divided up into 5 minute intervals. So we also had to time all of our pieces last night to make sure they fit within the allotted time frame. Isn't that crazy?

Anyway, after that service we rehearse with the American Boy's Choir and some string group for our appearance on Good Morning America Monday morning. Yes- a 6:30 AM call should be totally awesome. (Note the sarcasm.) If you can, tune in between 8:30 and 9:30 AM- that's when we'll be singing. And of course, after the show, we do 2 more services.

So, it's a whole hell of a lot of singing, and I know I'm going to be exhausted, but I'm also really excited to be a working singer in New York. Granted, I can't quit my day job, but I feel like my move is at last semi-fruitful.

September Morn

Well folks, I'm a tad late to work today because I ran the "Columbia Fun Run 5K" at 8 AM today- with one of my bosses. It was actually a pretty fun time, and a good run. Since I've been running weekly with my friend Alison who is training for the NYC Marathon, my stamina has improved quite a bit. I mean, I was still sweaty and tired, but I wasn't even out of breath at the finish line. *Patting myself on the back*.

Also, today is Nakia's birthday, and you know I wouldn't miss an opportunity to give ma girl a shout out, ooooooooookkkaaaaayyyyyyyyy? Holla.

The Five Month Mark

I can't believe it's been 5 months since I relocated. Time really is flying by- it's going to be Thanksgiving before we know it. And I can't effing wait.
This weekend, I shopped with my sister-in-law, lost my cell phone/had to pay full price for a new one, sang at Trinity Wall St. (St. Paul's), worked out, slept, ate, chilled in the most central of parks, and marvelled at the fact that we're 5 days into September. I have something going on every weekend from now through the end of the month, and I'm sure that October will be filling up just as quickly. On the agenda for next month is a Connecticut Fall Fun Day- complete with apple picking, pumpkins, antiques, and chunky sweaters. Also, my sister is coming to visit in October and I must start preparing for winning another Halloween Costume Contest. Damn, I need an assistant.

Dangover

I'm experiencing a delayed hangover- yes, a dangover. Has anyone else had this problem? Over the past few months, when I've been housed (which isn't all that much), my hangover doesn't actually kick in and start making me feel like complete shit until around noon the next day. One of my co-workers suggested that maybe I was still drunk when I woke up this morning. But then again, he is also hungover.
I never used to get hangovers. I would always make sure I went to bed sober, or almost sober. That way, I could wake up, a little slow, but without a headache or a churning stomach. I thought that getting older/gaining more experience meant being more resilient to the likes of alchohol. I guess not.
Needless to say, I had a good time on last night's date. As I was approaching the bar where we met, I called Bucket in a panic and said, "I'm so nervous I might throw up." He laughed and said, "Just do what I do. Turn around and leave." Luckily, my date was just as nervous as me, and pointed out shortly thereafter that the worst part was over. "Thank God you're not actually 40 years old", he said. Ha. Good- he's funny.
Dating in New York isn't really like dating anywhere else- everyone has a back story, everyone has been a million places, and everyone is looking to connect with someone. I don't think I met my future husband last night, but I definately made a new connection. And that connection likes to party.

*ow...my head*.