Inspired by one of my favorites...

Happy 2012, world!

Just a ditty inspired by this weekend. Excuse the vagueness. Inspired by "Polaroids" by Shawn Colvin. Listen here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6nezSWF6ymQ

It feels like ages ago now: the slippery trickles of smoke-hot shower water, echoes of my guilty heart bouncing off and on steamy tiles, a familiar voice pleading an end to the therapy, anything for peace - even shoddy reparation: "piece me together with a needle and thread."

Over and over, reminders of my weaknesses waving over and through me like breakers on an ocean. But what a difference 48 hours makes. From somber reflection to somber reflection, after traversing the peaks and valleys in between.

"Fold me and lay me down on your bed" - now just a pragmatic reminder that I am built to build things up that one only pretends to stand on pedestals

A night of fashion, of shallow ambition, had me tricked for a moment to be the kind of evening I needed to live through to get over, to get better. To be wrapped in tender eiderdown, luxurious and rare. Who was folded on what bed; and in what fashion? Was it tender, as Shawn presumed it to be? Or was it staggered in stumbles; rhythmic in reckless abandon? Foolishly. I didn't need to go or to be anything or anywhere else.

I don't need to apologize for how I accept the things around me. They are why I write, they are the fuel for the music, the authenticity I reach with eager fingers. To others it's just a good time. And that could have been me. How swiftly I was veered from catastrophe. Relieved, calm. Blackened and spit-shone through. Smiling on my way back home.

Again the breakers, this time on a Sunday morning on the first of a New Year I am viewing with far-sighted goggles. This time they wash over rocks and miss me by a mile. I am too taken in by the view around me; the reminder of last year's feats, of potential splendor. Toes in sand, heart on heels, happy to be at square one.

I just took polaroids with my little smartphone. I just lingered in the moment.

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Neverending rays of traffic lights

Driving into Hollywood feels like catapulting yourself into a sea of lights: red, green, yellow, and the halos of countless street lamps divided only my palm trees and high-rise hotels. Even a 2-mile stretch can feel so long with that kind of traffic-light wait time. But still, I found that I was throwing myself into those long stretches multiple times this weekend.

First there was last night with my showcase at RAW - the could-have-been-a-debacle that turned out to be an amazing evening with friends, family, and a sound system that sounded pretty good, considering there was no monitor. I got to meet some cool artists from Portland, and learn a bit more about RAW. The good news is, they'll let us venture out into RAW showcases in other states without the ticket sale requirement ... definitely takes the edge of. Isay it's currently a toss-up between Portland and Austin. The latter would allow me to see my sister again.

Then there was tonight, venturing to Laugh Factory on Sunset Blvd to catch my friend PK and a relatively new friend, KT Tatara, who I met at Columbia last November during a show we did together. What I remember most about that last time we met, was that we philosophized over media while eating great falafel at Maoz. That, and I wore my purple pants. :)

I managed to get my friend Austin to come with, which turned out to be great. He's always a lot of fun to hang with, talk music and movies, and just kind of sit back and chat. Austin and I joined KT and his friends for sushi at Katana, a fancy sushi spot on the strip. We walked over, to save ourselves the trouble of parking. I was glad I was putting my overpriced Nashville cowboy boots to use. Also, it was kind of cold tonight. More wins.

Anyway, it's off to bed for me. Tomorrow I've got to get back to songwriting and practicing for all the shows next week...maybe most importantly, I've got to master a special mash-up of "Rainbow Connection" and "Over the Rainbow" that I'm doing for someone's wedding in New York in exactly a week! I am sure all this can be accomplished if I don't get caught up in all these "How I Met Your Mother" episodes. Earlier this week, I got a freelance job writing HIMYM trivia for an app. All well and good, except I'm kind of a HIMYM junkie now, as I rewatch the episodes. And I'm only on Season 2!

Wish me luck.

In the meantime, remember to always see beauty in life. Including in yourself; your own very unique you.

(That sounded like a fortune cookie, didn't it? I wanted to end on a poignant but genuine note, so hopefully that came through despite the cheese.)

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Los Angeles: 5 Months

This past Sunday marked 5 months here in Los Angeles, and 6 months since I left home. I know I've been falling behind on recording my daily adventures since leaving NJ, so the anniversary gives me a good excuse to impart the long list. Or at least, the long ramble... which I'm certain this will be.

:)

Bear with me...

I didn't know what I was getting myself into when I headed out 6 months ago. All I knew was I was going to be open to the possibilities... to anything, really, that the road would offer. It was foreign beds and drawn-out Interstate driving for a month and even at the first sight of California, I knew I had already come so far. Letting go of my full-time job was the biggest thing. Maybe it was the only thing. My mind was already far from that office when I finally told them I was leaving. It wasn't easy - don't get me wrong. But it was time.

I still remember the way I felt that day, driving white-knuckled, worried that all the junk in my car might spill over at any second, or cause me to swerve at every turn. Rob was beside me, assuring me that I could legally keep the luggage piled high, blocking the rear window. The Garden State Parkway sped past, in all its familiarity - memories of countless drives to Red Bank in the summer of 2008 rushed back. First stop, Virginia. We visited an old friend, Vinaya, and took a 2-mile hike up to the Cascades waterfalls. Our last morning there, we had homemade donuts from a quaint stand not far from Virginia Tech's campus.

Then it was off to Nashville. I can honestly say this little city has changed my life. At the time, I didn't know it. I just knew that I was falling stupidly in love with that town...with all its music-loving energy, its country-style hospitality, its unassuming sensibility. I wasn't in love with country music (and am still not), but loved feeling surrounded by music and the business around it. After a week there, a guitar endorsement, some gigs, and a new batch of friends, we continued the journey to Arkansas, the words of my old friend Kevin So still ringing, "You'll go to LA. You'll hang out there for a bit. But then, you're going to want to come back to Nashville."

I've been back there twice since he said those words.

After spending two nights with my family in Whitehall, I was off to Texas for the first time in my life. I didn't know what to expect. All I know is, when that big Houston skyline came over the horizon, I knew all the things they say about Texas-sized this and that had a little bit of truth in it. The highways looked like what you'd see in a spaghetti bowl. The cosmopolitan energy was there. I really wanted to like Houston, but in the end, the thing I loved about it were the people that I met. All the Kollaboration Houston folks who graciously showed me around and refused to let me pay for anything. I played two gigs out there before we headed to New Orleans for some sightseeing and of course, Mardi Gras.

I won't say too much on it, but I love gumbo and I don't like Mardi Gras. I'll go back, but mostly to see what the town is like on a normal day, and to catch a set at Preservation Jazz, which was closed as the musicians saw it fit to flee the city during the merriment. Maybe it was because me and Rob are pretty laid-back and chill when we're around each other. And packed, drunken crowds and projectile beads don't exactly lend themselves to that.

Soon, it was back to Texas for a show in Arlington. Another good friend, Melissa Polinar came to the show and let us crash at her place for the night. We met her family - all very awesome. I couldn't believe how middle-of-nowhere her place in Texas was, but decided there was something charming about it. The final leg was in Austin, where we would stay for two weeks with family. We were there for SXSW, which meant extra traffic, but I found the means to enjoy the city anyway. I played a few shows while my mom and sister were in town. I learned the difference between West 6th and Dirty 6th. I played GoodPhil at UT Austin, in the beautiful Riverbend Theater. Then we headed out, finally, to California. Our only stops were lunch in Las Cruces, after a quest for sopapilla, and overnight in Tucson (Tucson Tamale Company is heaven, and the most notable thing about our stop there). I almost felt it when we crossed the state line into California.

The last five months have been just as crazy. I've been here in LA, making friends and gigging, writing and sightseeing, but also spent a great deal of time traveling. It was NYC and Nashville in late April to May, then San Diego for a weekend when my friends Jessica and Joyce visited for Memorial Day weekend. Dominican Republic and Alaska in June, then Virginia Beach, Nashville and Iowa in August. I still have so many goals, and my to-do list is going to be the death of me. Marc Lacuesta, who I collaborated with in Nashville in August (band name coming soon!), would often massage my shoulders and notice these impossible knots. Once he told me, "It's because nothing in your life is settled...everything is up in the air" and it's true. But right now, I wouldn't have it any other way.

Here's my conclusion about LA so far - of course, realizing this could change in a week's time - the traffic is hands down worse than NYC. People are much more approachable and laid back. The music scene is much bigger, with more opportunities. There are also more people willing to scam you. 60 degrees is cold. Rain is scary. Downtown is my favorite part of the city.

That's about it so far... I'll be sure not to wait another 6 months before updating you on the big movements of life.

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Alaska 2011

Traversing the last frontier, camera on-hand.
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I just got back from 8 days in Alaska, and found that I can't go on with life without looking back at what came to pass (yes, it really IS that dramatic). In short, Alaska is a magical place. Not like anything you'll see elsewhere in this country. We had a special treat in going this time of year - around summer solstice - because the Arctic sun makes for just about 24 hours of sunlight.
That means that midnight doesn't actually feel like midnight. It's more like 7:30 or 8 p.m. in the summer, with the sun dipping low on the horizon, before coming back up. By 2:30am, it's already sunrise.


This isn't entirely a plus. In some ways, our time there felt like one drawn-out day. Some nights it would be 1 a.m. and we just wouldn't feel like sleeping. The light in the sky played tricks with our internal clocks. And, since I've lived in a temperate zone most of my life, I would often forget that it never got dark, sometimes worrying that if we drove home "too late" we would end up driving in dangerous darkness through the woods.

The trip started in Fairbanks for my mom's school reunion. We were tagging along for the ride and she had asked me to play some songs during welcome night. I obliged. It was the group's smallest reunion yet - I think travel costs factored in a lot - but all were just as enthusiastic as those Sillimanians (graduates of Silliman University in the Philippines) often are.

The plane ride was incredible. We had taken a red-eye flight, so it was strange to see the sky go from dark blue to a lighter pastel. We could see the sun peeking in on one side of the plane, despite the fact that it was 1:30 am Alaska time. From the other side of the plane, the moon hovered mysteriously, casting a lovely reflection on the glassy ocean. Water soon made way to the most majestic mountains I've ever seen - moreso than the Rockies or the Alps. Snow overtook the summits and the silhouettes were jagged, bold, an indicator of what we were getting ourselves into: a place where the wilderness dominates.

The crappy part was our 4.5-hour layover in Anchorage. At first, though, all I could think about was that this was the airport where I first set foot on the U.S. as a 5-year-old. I had traveled with my grandparents and my sister in 1991, and our layover was there. I remembered tracing the unfamiliar landscape with my eyes. It was before me again, and I'd soon learn that those distant mountains were part of the Chugach National Forest - the second largest in the US after Denali.

We arrived in Fairbanks in the morning, all travel-weary and disoriented from lack of sleep at Anchorage's super air-conditioned airport (me and Rob took turns laying out on one of the uncomfortable gate seats). That first day was mostly a blur, but the next day, after a quick morning acapella performance with my sister and Minji, we got to explore the city some more. We took a bus to see the Alyeska Pipeline - an 800-mile pipeline that takes oil from Prudhoe Bay in the Arctic Circle down to Valdez in the south. The existence of the pipeline is the reason Alaskans get dividends of about $1500 per person every year.


We then paid a visit to the North Pole. That is, the town of North Pole, which is humorously south of Fairbanks. It seems a little too kitschy for me, but we did peruse Santa Claus' house, reindeer stable, gigantic sleigh, and yes, his gift shop where we took pictures with the Big Guy himself (and I proceeded to resist spending money needlessly).




That night, there was a big welcome party with the Sillimanians. Afterwards we headed out with a new friend, Nathan - who had grown up in Fairbanks - to see what nightlife was like in the Golden Heart city. Most bars closed early, but some stayed open very late. After hailing a cab NYC-style (apparently this wasn't the norm, but the cab driver was nice enough to humor us), we ended up at Big Daddy's BBQ for drinks and billiards, a little dancing, and a meet-up with one of my distant cousins who had moved to Fairbanks from Hawai'i a few months ago. The crowd was very small-town. I didn't mind, though. People didn't really seem warm, but they also didn't seem uptight. Just in the middle, I guess.
Gussied up for welcome night.


(Believe it or not, a Filipino food stand!)

That same evening there had been a midnight run, a 6K that began at 10pm, but we missed it. I would have liked to see it for myself, maybe even participate too. The next day - Sunday, June 19 - we checked out the Midnight Sun Festival. All the businesses set up booths downtown and it seemed like everyone was around to enjoy the food, music and games. I enjoyed people-watching. I'd say Alaskans are an eclectic crowd. Most people are young. They are also surprisingly diverse. Walking around and taking in the vibrancy of other passersby, I got the feeling that most had come to Alaska recently.


On Monday, June 20, we headed to Creamer's Field with Chevy, my cousin. This was essentially an old dairy farm whose land drew migratory birds from all over, becoming a prime bird-watching spot. But we weren't there for the birds. We were there to put ourselves in the hands of the boreal forest - a thick, swampy overgrowth that I will only ever remember for its gigantor mosquitos. Luckily, the helpful guide gave use bug repellent and mosquito masks that made us feel like we were in combat (in a way, we were). My skin crawled for the entire hike. I wish I could say I saw some great sights, but I was too busy swatting mosquitos. In the end, I suffered no bites. Chevy wasn't so lucky though. He had opted for short-sleeves that day.


We rushed back to the hotel to catch the bus to Steamboat Landing, where we'd take a steamboat tour of the Chena River. The ride was interesting, touching on many aspects of Alaskan life, from dog mushing and the Iditarod to a peek of how Athabaskan eskimos survived in the wilderness. There was a gala that evening at the hotel, but we were so exhausted after this day that we ended up skipping most of it. We eventually attended, but my eyes were already watering over at that point, desperately in need of a good night's rest.




Tuesday, June 21, was Summer Solstice, and the longest day of the year - especially in Fairbanks. Ironically, it was on this day where I'd say it got as dark as I'd ever see it, and only because of rain clouds that entered in and out during the day. Keep in mind, "dark" is like... twilight-dark. We ended up at Pioneer Park for a picnic where delicious king crab was consumed at startling quantities. Me, Rob, Minji, my sister and Nathan played ultimate frisbee along with Joey, a little kid who both had to learn to throw a frisbee and who didn't seem to want to throw the frisbee to me because I was a girl. Thumbs down.



We spent hours sitting on the grass after that, just enjoying the sun and talking about everything. Rob lost his sunglasses in a nearby creek, where a family of ducks swam back and forth. The Sillimanians were just about singing every chance they got, and before long, we headed for Chena Hot Springs. About 60 miles northeast of Fairbanks, this resort was famous for its natural springs, infused with sodium and other minerals. We took Chena Hot Springs Road to get there, and there was no chance of getting lost - the road literally went from Fairbanks to Chena Hot Springs Resort, with no other towns in between (lots of hiking trails, though). We dipped in the uber-hot water and relaxed for a bit before heading for the rainy drive back. We had seen two moose on the way there, and during the journey back, we saw a large mother moose with its calf. She was drinking from a small pond while the calf waited on land. We did a swift U-turn and captured the scene as best as we could. Rob rolled down his window and did his best imitation of a moose mating call.




The night should have ended there, but we ended up grabbing some pizza at Boston's, meeting with Nathan and his friend for a quick drink, then somehow at an elementary school's baseball field playing ultimate frisbee at midnight. We were exhausted, and the mosquitos swirled around us, but we still had energy for this game. Nathan's friend, Eric, sustained a few brutal falls (and both had been drinking all night, so you can imagine the buffoonery), but all in all a good time was had. It was the next morning that was brutal. We had to wake up early to get the rental car that we'd take for our roadtrip to Anchorage.
(The sun around midnight)

Groggy, we somehow made it through the long, monotonous drive to Denali (in all honesty, mostly monotonous because all we did was sleep). And still mustered the energy to do a 3-mile hike along the Savage River. I'm glad we did - the scenes were spectacular. As were the flora and fauna (see adorable Arctic ground squirrel peeking from its burrow below).





After all that, we drove some more to Talkeetna, a quaint mountain village known for its proximity to Mt. McKinley. Sadly, we did not see that beautiful summit, but I do believe I'd caught it on the plane ride into Fairbanks.


We stayed at the Roadhouse, which was an adorable lodge we wished we'd had more time to enjoy. We were only there one night, and despite the daylight, most restaurants were closed. Our only option was My Little Dumpling, which turned out to be a delicious option after all.


The next morning, we were off again, this time to the Matanuska glacier in Glacier View, where we would actually get to walk on the ice. Stretching 27 miles long, we covered an extremely small piece of this earthly wonder, but we looked like quite the adventurers in our crampons and helmets. Our 3 female guides at Mica Guides were extremely helpful and patient with our big group. My favorite part was filling up my water bottle with glacier water that flowed freely. "Pre-industrial age water," as Rob called it.




We stayed in the Winter Cabin of the Long Rifle Lodge that night - supposedly the only place to stay for about 50 miles in that area. What a wonder the place seemed kind of dilapidated. Making up for this shortcoming was the incredible view of the Chugach mountains. After dinner at the lodge's restaurant, where we also bumped into some of the guides, we crashed easily after all that ice-walking.




The next day, our last in Alaska, we were down to the Kenai Peninsula to witness the Portage Glacier, a relatively young formation that has receded significantly in the last few decades, leaving a gorgeously-blue glacial lake in its wake. The drive itself was spectacular. We winded down Seward Highway, where you could see miles of mudflats and the Cook Inlet that led us to Portage. We took a boat tour out and got some great views of the glacier and the surrounding formations. Other glaciers hung on surrounding summits, but the formations on the Portage Glacier were so dramatic - the ice seemed to fall into the water before our very eyes.





That evening, most of the group headed back to Anchorage International Airport to catch their flights home. For the handful of us who had red-eye flights, we opted for the Beartooth Theatre Bar & Grill, after realizing the Native Heritage Center Museum wasn't open. I tried a delicious home-brewed raspberry wheat ale. Our final excursion before the airport was Earthquake Park, a park that had once been an affluent neighborhood, destroyed in a 1964 earthquake. We walked down toward the view of the Knik Arm - which was beautiful, but at the perilous hands of evil mosquitos that succeeded in biting me twice. I thought I'd made it through the trip without one of those painful bites, but I guess I had countless adventures and beautiful sights to assuage the pain.

(The view of the Knik Arm from Earthquake Park)

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Rest is for the weak.

I've been guilt-tripping myself about how little time I've had to pack my life away this past week since leaving my job, so now, despite the fact that it's 2 a.m. and I'm bleary-eyed and dizzy, I keep myself tucked amongst these boxes and bins. It's like a hurricane hit my room right now.

What can I say? It feels like a hurricane hit my inside too. But not in a bad way. Yes, it's a little scary. I've found myself making friends with the measuring tape and marking lengths and widths between my car's trunk, backseat, and all the boxes I've yet to fit so that this chaos can seem manageable. Practical and logical. Maybe because the prudent voice in my head understands when people raise their eyebrows, when they speak silently: "That's a little crazy, isn't it?"

Because I know it is. But the measuring tape and the boxes are all real, and so is this nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach - the one that tells me I'm in this come hell or high water - so maybe if I could remember that there is still organization to the madness, that there are still numbers to be assigned and spaces to be fitted, I'll be at peace with what's to come.

All in all, I'm excited. A queasy, wring your hands, grab the guitar because the shivers can't be contained kind of queasy. I just hope I don't let anyone (and myself) down.

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Fall baking + Gearing up for a music-doozy weekend...

I know you haven't heard from me in a while. But I've been getting pretty domestic.
There was a lull after my Philly show, and because I am not capable of being un-busy, I took to baking a lot of things.

Apple Explosion Lava Rolls, for example. Things that make me think of losing my figure before my time! But all worth it, of course. ;)

I'm gearing up for a three-day weekend of shows. I am really excited. I'm back to NYU on Friday, then playing Best Buy in Lincoln Center (woo!) during the day on Saturday, and then heading up to Boston on Sunday.

I had wanted to head to Boston right after the Best Buy show, but I want to spend some time with my grandparents this weekend. They are moving back to The Philippines and will leave next week. So, I've got to spend as much time as possible with them. That means it will be a bit hectic going to church on Sunday (my grandfather is a pastor and he founded our church) then heading straight to Northeastern, but if you can believe it, I've actually done much worse things. Like that time I flew to L.A. on a Saturday and came back the next day.

I leave you with a cool shot from David Speranza from a shoot we did in September. The many wonderful photos he took have been trickling in since, and you may have seen it on my Facebook already. More to come soon!

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NYC, Princeton and Philly, Oh My! + New London Fire

So much stuff coming up! Piano's on Tuesday - btw, I can't believe I haven't played there yet! - Princeton next Saturday, the 9th, and then Philadelphia with the one and only David Choi on the 14th. I just completed the poster for the Princeton show with the band. Cuh-razy need to sleep.

If you're up for joining in on one of the three shows, let me know on the Facebook Event: facebook.com/event.php?eid=162349010442277&ref=mf

I want to know who'll be there! ;)

I also have to figure out where to get the Birthday Cupcakes for the Piano's show. I promised baked goodies in celebration of my lengthening life. Apparently A & P has some yumzo ones. Amazing.

Anyway, I had a pretty crapster day at work today, as those of you on Facebook may know. :( Maybe God is trying to tell me to just go and do music already?

Or maybe He's just testing me?

Either way, I was glad to have a quick escape in the form of Belle & Sebastian in Williamsburg today. Their first gig in the area in 4 years! How crazy!

Also, here's another good thing that came out of today - the 2nd installment of my new Music Video series for NorthJersey.com!

David Debiak was very cool to talk to. He and I are hoping to do a show together soon!

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