Asking random Canadian celebrities to play on my album isn't creepy, right? RIGHT?!?!?!

Remember that time I sent an email asking Canadian music sensation/slash/guitar virtuoso/slash/killer singer/slash/what-I-can-only-assume-is-a-great-guy Matthew Andersen if he would like to sing back ups on my album??

YOU DON'T REMEMBER?!?!?! 

Oh right.  That's because I didn't tell you.

Well... HERE GOES!!!

Let's start off by making sure you all know who Matt Andersen is (because if you don't know how amazing he is, your life is a legitimate joke and you should re-evaluate your life choices).  Just watch this video of him performing live at the 2011 Maple Blues Awards and you will see exactly why we are meant to be together - er, I mean sing together...

Let's take it back a few weeks to when I was balled up in my living room, working away on my computer, listening to Mr. Andersen's live album, Life From The Phoenix Theatre.  I was singing along to one of my favorite songs of his, when I thought "how great would it be if Matt Andersen sang with me on my album?!?! Wait - why can't I ask Matt Andersen to sing backups on my album?!??!"  So that is what I did.  I emailed Mr. Matt Andersen and asked him outright to sing on my album. 

Want to know what I wrote?  Who doesn't.  Here it is:

Hi Matt,

Now I don't know if you actually read the hundreds of emails I bet you
get in a day (or if this email I am sending will even make it past
your spam bin), but I thought I'd fire off an email to you.  What is
there to lose, right?

I am sending you this to 1) tell you how much I enjoy what you do and
2) ask a crazy request.  So here goes.

1) I really enjoy what you do.  I am so glad I have had the
opportunity to see you live (you played the Edmonton Folk Fest last
year and pretty much stopped everyone dead in their tracks with your
amazing music).  More recently I sat in my car for the entire time CBC
played your concert on Radio 2.  Thank the good lord for the CBC.

2) So... I am currently recording a debut EP here in lovely Edmonton,
and I have been trying to find someone to sing some killer backups to
the songs I wrote (kind of bluesy-ish rockin tunes - think Joan
Osborne circa 1994 if that could even be used as a reference...) and I
think that (in my own humble opinion) our voices together would not
only sound great, but could quite possibly stop a few wars (in a good
way).  I will definitely pay you for your services, so hopefully you
would want to trek out to the prairies and record a bit?  I don't know
what your schedule is like, but I also work at a great music venue in
Edmonton too if you wanted to make it a stop as well (but hell, I am
sure you have tons of people that can book those things for you...)
But seriously, I completely understand if you don't want to be
involved in something like this... even as I am writing this to you I
feel kind of silly. But if we could make it work somehow, well heck.
I could cross off "singing with Matt Andersen" off my bucket list.

I won't include links to my website etc. etc. because I thought I
would just send a simple email to see what you think.

Thank you so much for your time Matt, and I hope you are well.

Cheers,

Lindsey Walker

So there you have it.  I emailed him.  I don't regret my choice, and neither should he.  Mind you, he hasn't emailed me back.  Yet.  I have no doubt he will, mainly because he is Canadian (and has good Canadian manners), but more so because he will be haunted by guilt for the rest of his very successful career.  (What?  Is that a threat? Don't think I am capable of sowing the seeds of guilt in an email??  Just ask any of my exes.)

I will be sure to let the world know when (positive vibes here, people) Mr. Andersen responds to my email.  It will be great.  I promise.  Now that I finished emailing Canadian celebrities about performing on my CD, you may be asking yourself  "What is next for that beautiful, talented, lovely, generous, NOT crazy in any way girl?"  Well, I have been thinking about mailing a letter to the Queen of England inviting her to my CD release party.  But we will see. 

Until next time I decide to send random letters to my idols,

That girl who should stop* sending emails. 

*but won't

 

Taking the plunge...NOT the Nestea plunge.

I am taking the plunge, you guys.

I am plunging (that doesn't sound great, now does it?) into the world of recording. 

From the beginning of 2012 until now, I have been extremely focused on my career as a musician.  I started a funding campaign (what??? You didn't hear about it through my incessant social media onslaught??  Well!  Even though the campaign is over, you can still check out my funding page here.) for my debut CD which was shockingly successful.  Since then I have been planning, planning, planning for recording and touring in the near future.

I love planning.

I ACTUALLY REALLY LOVE PLANNING.

Anyone who knows me well knows that I love to plan every part of my life and if a plan gets cancelled I am personally offended (don't think that's a trait I possess? Fine then.  Plan to go for coffee with me then cancel.  THEN YOU WILL SEE MY FURY UNLEASHED).

I also love planning because I love to imagine what my life will be like in the future.  I can dream.  And boy oh boy, do I ever dream.

The scary thing about planning is when it comes time to turn all that planning into practice.

GOOD GRAVY.

That's when all the fears and doubts start rearing their ugly heads.  What if I rush into things foolhardily? What if I make a mistake? What if I fail and cry and my cats run away and I never have the opportunity to be this happy ever again and I become    WHAT IF EVERYTHING I HAVE PLANNED DOESN'T TURN OUT???

Seriously, Lindsey.  Stop friggin worrying so much. 

The funny thing is that it will be okay.  It will all work out.  No matter what.  (Well, unless I set myself on fire and scream obscenities into the night sky, which has been known to happen before...).  I know it can be frightening to go for the things we love and feel most passionate about.  The fear of failing at what we love can prevent us from actually going for (and end up doing) what we love.  Don't get me wrong, I am doing a lot of what I love.  I play my own music, have many supportive friends and family, have fans that don't know me personally yet still love my music.  People sing along to my songs when I play live. I am really blessed with my life as a musician.  It was okay all this time, and it will be okay from here on in.    

I will be heading into the studio to record in the next day or two.  I have been planning for this for a looooong while, but I have to let you in on a secret: I still feel unprepared. And nervous.  I have no reason to feel unprepared, because of all this planning I've done.  I shouldn't feel nervous because I fell confident about the songs I have written because they come from a place of honesty in my heart and soul. So all I can do is keep telling myself that I will do my best and the outcome will be great.    

I am going to begin recording tomorrow.

TOMORROW, you guys.

!!!!!!

I am excited.  And nervous.  And happy, proud, blessed.  It will be an amazing adventure, as everything along this path has been so far. I will be sure to write more posts as I get started and start recording, I promise!

Until next time when I can start calling myself "recording artist Lindsey Walker",

The girl who should plan to not be nervous. 

Everybody IS working for the weekend.

And if you aren't working for the weekend, you are lucky.  Or jobless. Or a workaholic.  Or live in a society where weekends don't exsist.  Or you are a member of Loverboy and you live in a world where EVERY DAY IS A WEEKEND DAY.


Just like this:

We can only dream.


(Could we also take a moment to LOVE Mike Reno and his ...ummm... outfit?  And the way he claps on 1 and 3?   Sigh....)




ANYWAY.




I am working for the weekend, one could say.  I work for a temp agency, only to financially fuel my dreams to become a Canadian roots musician /slash/ touring SUPERSTAR.  That is very attainable, right???


....RIGHT?!?!?!?


So here I am, working for the man.  Or in this case, many men.  (Wait, what???).  What I mean to say is, each week or so, I get a new boss at a new location doing a new job.  It's a dream for someone with adult-onset ADD.  I love these jobs.  Every time I get a phone call about a "placement" (that is what the temp agency calls it) I feel like a spy (not unlike in my favorite movie "True Lies" where Jamie Lee Curtis plays my dream role of being a mousey housewife /slash/ accidental undercover spy.  AND she gets to kiss Arnold Schwarzenegger.  AND she gets to fight Tia Carrere.  AND she gets to put her head on Bill Paxton's lap while he drives a convertable.  WHAT A DREAM.)


I am finding more and more that these temp jobs are becoming an outlet for me to realize how fascinating (and can we also point out completely bat-shit looney) people are more than simply working 8 until 4 Monday to Friday.


Here are a few examples: 


-that middle-aged guy who worked with me at a drywall warehouse who kept wanting to get high with me on my lunch break (I felt it was a trap; he was most likely a narc.)
-the countless women in their 30s (but look like they are in their 50s) at various locations who ask me incredulously "Why aren't you married yet???"
-the one MILF I worked with (if you don't know what a MILF is children, it is a demon-lady who will turn you to stone if you meet her gaze.  It is best to avoid contact at all costs) who was in the office next to me who yelled at her mother for about 15 minutes straight over the phone
-another coworker who incessently felt the need to show me every "sext" from her multiple lovers
-working at a post secondary institution where one of the students ate hand sanitizer RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY VERY OWN EYES


That last one was a mind-cuss.   I was pretty certain that was going to die right then and there.  My life flashed before my eyes, and it consisted of the following:


-me peeing my pants in a snowbank when I was in middle school (GUYS, I WAS TOLD A FUNNY JOKE.  STOP JUDGING)
-me having my first lips-on-lips kiss with a boy (no tongue though, that is gross) in junior high because I forced him to kiss me (ladies if you want something done, DO IT FORCIBLY)
-me walking home from school and eating a baker's dozen of cookies from Subway and crying 


AND LEST WE FORGET


-that time I ran into a glass door because some cute man was flirting with me and I didn't know what to do (stranger danger, right guys??) so I ran away.




After that flash of my past (mainly my awful life in junior high and one lame moment as an adult) I realized my life wasn't really in danger from the Purell-guzzler.  (He and I actually had a neat (read: WEIRD) conversation about the Wayans brothers.)


These jobs are great.  They don't pay amazingly (but money isn't everything, right friends?), but the entertainment value is something to be rivaled.  When I am asked why I am not staying at a certain job, I say because I am a musician.  It is at this point where I get one of two responses.  Either (a) "WOW. THAT IS SO COOL.  SING SOMETHING FOR ME RIGHT NOW!" or "Aww, well when you realize that you can't make a living on music, maybe we will have another job opening for you".




Shockingly, both responses make me angry.


Even more shockingly, I always have the exact same response for both of their responses.


No thanks.


Not only am I working my butt off for the weekend, I am working my butt off for the things that make me happy in my life.  Shockingly, that isn't making tons of money and moving up the corporate ladder.


Until next time I get placed in some ridiculous spy -like work scenario,


That girl who is working for Loverboy- er- the weekend. 

A public apology from me. The NON-blogger.

I realize that I haven't been a great blogger.

I haven't even friggin blogged (is that a term?) for almost a YEAR.

Yet I noticed today that I have had over 100 page views in the last month.

WHAT?!?!

That makes absolutely no sense at all, especially seeing that I haven't even been looking at my own page.

SO WHO KEEPS CHECKING BACK?!?!?

Lord only knows. I keep picturing someone waking up every Goddamned morning like it's friggin Christmas or something hoping for a present under their metaphorical tree.  But alas, no matter how many times they refresh this page there are no new posts.

NOTHING.




So this post is for you, you creepy, excitable internet stalker you.

2012 IS HERE!!  *shoots imaginary guns into the sky (or in my case an imaginary ninja on the ceiling)*

...so are we going to all die in horrible and unimaginable ways this year?  No no.  Well, Maybe some of you *wink*, but definitely not me because...

THIS IS MY YEAR!!!


So how many of you have heard someone say that before?

"Last year was okay, but this year I feel it.  This year is MY year.  It will be the year of ME."

Ummmm... yeah.... right.....sure....

I'd love to crawl inside these weirdos' brains and see how long the hamster has been dead on the wheel.  Seriously though, wouldn't it be safe to say that every year is "your" year because you are still alive and able to continue on with your existence??

Secret: I did kind of say that to myself this year.

But ONLY after I had a mild nervous breakdown 2 weeks into this glorious year.  So, I think it's okay.

....right?

No.  There is no excuse for the fact that I want 2012 to be "the year of me".  But just hear me out, k?

I started this year with some major changes being thrown at me (the specifics aren't necessary here... sorry all of my stalkers) and I felt that there were many important aspects of my life that were completely out of my control.  I was just running around with life happening around me and I was just out of reach from everything I really cared about.  So I did what any 27-year old woman would do:

I sat on the floor of my living room in complete darkness and wept like a wee baby.  (to be fair, I think that is better than a lot of amazing 27-year olds I look up to... Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, and Nat Jaffe... (look him up))

I quickly realized that I couldn't live this way so I made a list (ask my stalkers - I LOVE LISTS) of all the things out of my control with all the possible outcomes of these things.  I finished the note, and stared at it.  Everything was now in within my control because all the outcomes were clearly listed on paper.  Somehow that helped me get back on track.

PHEW.

So here I am, almost one month into 2012, and I am feeling like I am ready to take on the world.  And I will.  Because it's all within my control.

Until the next time I need to be a bit more introspective (I promise this won't be what I post about all the time),

The girl who is making every year our year.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

P.S.  I thought I would also put together a small list (see?!?! I LOVE EM!) of some hilarious moments since I last posted:

-the time the guy came into the clinic I was temping at and legit flirted with me while explaining he needed to get an STD check from "all the ladies" he'd been with
-the time my dishwasher exploded and all I could do was say "holy shit" repeatedly
-I pushed my car with my kayak strapped to the roof to a new dwelling
-I went out of my way to grab cats
-I played a music gig where I also got to be in an old saloon fight
-The local radio mentioned me as I was stepping out of the shower
-I started making jam and set my stove on fire