Ushering in 2015

I honestly don't know where this particular blog post is going to end up. I have had a humdinger of a year and I just might be going through a mid-life crisis of sorts. Actually, whether it has to do with my age, I don't honestly know, I just know that I seem to be at a major crossroads in my life and something has to be done about it, because I cannot continue to feel the way I have been and survive. It's that simple.

Much about 2014 was good. I did a lot of singing and getting back on stage, as always starting with the NAMM show in January with my dear friend and fellow diva Debby Holiday. As a wonderful bonus I also got to see my friend Mary there, with whom I used to work in Nashville at BMI. I honestly don't think either of us could tell you when the last time we saw each other before that was, so it was a real blessing to have even a short time together.

↓ Debby, me and Mary at NAMM in Anaheim. ↓

Next was a long, hot summer of "Chew On This," a musical/cabaret show-type vehicle starring and written by my good friend Gilmore Rizzo which featured bubble gum pop tunes from the 50's through the 70's. We revived this show from a few years ago at the French Market. This time we did a weekend of shows in Palm Springs in July and then a six week run at the NoHo Arts Center in August and September. The music was vocally challenging, the cast and band was full of wonderful people I enjoyed working and spending time with and Gilmore wrote me a part that truly showcased my strengths as a singer and comedic actor. As with any independently produced show, we had some bumps along the road, but overall, it was a wonderful experience and I am grateful for it. AND my friend Tiffany got to come in from Canada to see it! She also brought me a bag of Canadian goodies. My kinda friend. 

↓ The cast of "Chew On This" in Palm Springs ↓

↓ l to r: Gilmore Rizzo, Barbara Shane, Jessica Buda and moi. ↓

After that I was invited to do a three song set at Oil Can Harry's for Lori Donato's Sunday Jam, which happens the second and third Sunday of every month. My long time friend and piano man extraordinaire Rob Bowers accompanied me on "Stuff Like That There," "Come Rain or Come Shine" and "I Keep It Hid."  You can see the videos from that on my YouTube page.

↓ Flyer for Lori Donato's Sunday Jam ↓

Nursing a broken heart, I needed to keep myself busy and distracted after that. So, I booked a free vocal master class in November, which went aces (I plan to do another one soon) and followed it up with a webcast concert called "Christmas at Darci's," on Concert Window.  The aforementioned Rob Bowers was my musical director and accompanist, my awesome friend Marie Pettit was my on-camera chat room moderator (and changed Christmas hats like Cher changes costumes in concert), her husband (also my awesome friend) Chris Gregson ran the camera, and we had a tiny handful of people in my living room to give it a "live" feel while everyone else across the country logged in to watch on their computers and other handy-dandy tech devices. It was so much fun and, I think, a smashing success. I'm very excited to do another one soon.

↓ Flyer for "Christmas at Darci's" ↓

↓ Me and Rob after the show. ↓

I also wrote , recorded and released a single for download on my website, "December Come Around." It was the first song I'd recorded in five years, the first Christmas song I've ever written and the first song I'd written without a co-writer since I lived in Nashville (so, we're talking at least 14 years, if not longer). I'm very proud of it and hope to pitch it this year (to Carrie Underwood or Jennifer Hudson, if a girl can dream). You can still get it on iTunes, if you missed it.

↓ Album cover for "December Come Around" ↓ 

Also, back in May I took a trip out to Fort Lauderdale to visit my dad and his wife and had a wonderful, relaxing time.  

↓ Con mi Padre celebrating my birthday. ↓

My baby brother just got engaged (wedding coming up in May)...

↓ The Travster and my future seester-een-law, Laura. ↓

...and my cousin Jenny had her first baby in November... ↓

...oh, and I mustn't forget that I had my first trip to Disneyland ever, courtesy of Gilmore Rizzo. At Christmas, even! ↓

Sounds like a pretty good year, right? Lots of good, good stuff.  

Well, in the midst of all that:

• I got my heart smashed to bits. I mentioned that in my last blog post.
• I lost several loyal students due to various reasons; one which I had to make the decision to drop because his mother made me hassle her for payment every month. Yuck. I cannot seem to keep enough students to survive, ever, even though I know I'm very good at what I do. Other friends of mine who are coaches have waiting lists...and for some reason I do not. I feel like I've tried lots of different things to get my name out there but nothing has worked. My students apparently don't tell anyone they're even taking voice lessons let alone who from, even while singing my praises to my face. So, word of mouth hasn't worked, either.
• When I did my Christmas webcast, I did it mostly with my Nashville and New York peeps in mind, because they're always squawking about how they miss hearing me sing or they wish they could make it to my shows but for where they live. I also thought this would be a great idea because people don't actually have to leave their homes and go anywhere, which in L.A. is a big deal. This saves them exorbitant parking fees, food/beverage requirements and travel time. Though I still feel it was a success overall, it was still really disheartening that the majority of people who logged in to watch were Californians and primarily not the people who are the loudest about wishing they could see me perform. Also, people complained that it was too complicated (it wasn't - if you can manage Facebook, you can manage Concert Window - my mother managed and if she can, anyone can). None of my extended family logged in.
• I sold exactly 13 downloads of my new single. That's One. Three. And not a single one to anyone who's said to me in the past, "Why don't you put some new music out?"  "It's time for you to record something new." "Why don't you ever record anymore?" Not a single download to anyone in my family, save for my sister Mandi. It cost 99 cents. I know, I asked people to break the bank. *note sarcasm*
• I have completely lost the joy of singing because I cannot seem to recover my voice to its former range and strength due to years of fighting sinus infections that produced a violent cough that made me lose my voice. While I seem to have found a way to keep the cough at bay now, I don't have what I used to, I don't sound like I used to, my instrument is not nearly what it used to be, which was what made me unique, and it's now so much effort to produce sound that it's not an enjoyable thing to do anymore. I never know if I can count on my voice, so booking something like "Chew On This" was a terrifying leap of faith. I don't feel comfortable trying to book other gigs because I don't know if my voice will be there on that given day. 

All of these are facts of what happened this year, all of which have led me to a place in which I'm asking myself, "What's the point?" Nothing I mentioned above is meant to lay a guilt trip on anyone personally (and I really mean that - okay at this moment I don't mean it for the heartbreaker, I kinda want him to choke on it), but I must wonder truly, what is the point of anything I try to do, when I can look back over the course of my entire life and career (if you can even call it a career) and feel like every attempt I've ever made at anything - music, work, relationships, certain friendships and business partnerships, et al - has failed miserably? When it seems like no one could possibly give less of a shit in supporting me? I have so many regrets I've lost count. So many "almosts" and "whatifs" and "couldashouldawouldas." A longtime friend of mine once said to me, "No one works harder than you and is more unsuccessful at it." He's right. 

He's absolutely right.  

I also had another longtime friend - who does not live here - tell me I've done nothing to get anywhere in my career. At which point I told him to stop effing talking if he wanted his nose to stay in the same place it is currently.  

So, there's that, too. How many more of you think that about me, I wonder?

But more importantly, things aren't the point. I work from home, which I've wanted to do for years and I enjoy my work. It is a blessing. I live in a great apartment that I love. I have wonderful friends all over the country. I love my family and can't wait to be with them all in May. Can't beat the weather here in SoCal most of the time. I felt my heart open up for the first time in years, when I didn't think it was possible for that to ever happen again. I consider that a damned miracle, despite the beating it took afterward. My family and friends are all healthy, except my Mima who is suffering from dimentia, but she's had a good, long life and possesses the constitution of an ox so she'll probably still be around for a while. I have everything I need. I want for nothing that matters. My fridge is full. My bank account is not, but I can keep a roof over my head, clothes on my back, food on my table and the lights on...besides I don't care about being rich.

And yet, something is missing. Something is always missing. To the point where just about a week ago I was sitting on my bed, bawling my eyes out and asking no one listening, "Did I have a twin die in the womb that Mom never told me about or something? Why do I feel like a part of me is missing? Why do I feel so empty?" Indeed, why have I always felt so empty, no matter how good my life is or how spiritual I am at any given moment or where I've lived along the way? All the work I've done on myself the last few years to think positively and choose joy seems to work for a New York minute and then burns out like the end of a match. When I was growing up in an evangelical household, I don't recall ever truly feeling God's presence in my life or heart. Never once, no matter how much scripture I read and memorized or how often I prayed. I have never in my life experienced any lasting contentment, let alone happiness. I have always felt like I'm never good enough, smart enough, talented enough, pretty enough, thin enough, funny enough, spiritual enough, obedient enough, financially stable enough, sexy enough, interesting enough, worthy enough, worthy enough, worthy enough, worthy enough, worthy enough, worthy enough...............

Something in me is desperately broken and I have to figure out what it is, or as I said, I will not survive. Don't worry, I'm not suicidal or anything like that, but I do worry that if I cannot make my way out of the level of despair I've been in lately, I will give up entirely. I will just beach myself on my couch and never get back up again and people in lab coats will have to break down my door and drag my comatose ass away to the funny farm where I will spend the rest of my days staring out a window and drooling on myself (should this happen, call my sister Jodianne to make arrangements for Pickle, please. Appreesh). 

↓ DangerPickleKitty ↓

I visited a psychic the other day, one whom I've seen several times, the wonderful Tysa Goodrich. You know when you've found a good one when you leave feeling like you've had a life coaching session instead of just "having your cards read" (note: if you're one of those who thinks psychics are a joke or of the devil, you can cram it - frankly, I'm not really in a place to be tolerant of your closed-minded, fear-mongering nonsense at the moment). In discussing some of these feelings I'm having currently, she had some amazing insights for me regarding the work I need to do on myself to get out of my crud. She brought up abandonment issues, confidence issues, self-love/hate issues, addiction issues, etc., etc., all of which I have been keenly aware for years and thought I had worked through. 

Apparently I haven't. 

She said, "I feel like something in you has died. When I see you in your younger years, your late teens and early 20's, you had such a fire in your belly. You were fearless and gung ho. But now...it's like someone or something just snuffed you out. And you've been this way a long, long time. You have a very wounded, lonely little girl inside of you and you need to deal with her or nothing's going to change. And my God, you're expectations are so low!"

This of course, made me burst into tears because I knew she was right. I'm so used to feeling like a failure that I have absolutely lowered my expectations in every aspect, thinking I'll be ecstatic if just one teensy little thing ever goes right but if I dare dream for more it'll tear a hole in the time-space continuum and destroy the universe entirely. My dreams have been small for a very long time. They basically consist of: 1) survive, 2) survive and 3) survive.  And I have put a happy face band-aid on for so long, trying to force myself to choose happiness and feel good just because I was SAYING I was happy and I felt good. It didn't work when Jesus was my band-aid and it's not working now. 

FOLKS, THERE IS NO BAND-AID.

That is not to say that you can't change your life when you change your thoughts. Amazing things have happened as a result of my deciding that I would no longer live by Murphy's Law and actively participate in hating myself. Definite blessings have followed, more so than in any other time of my life.

However, I simply think I am at a point where I have to dig deeper, down to the junk, the mess, the sludge and bile and acidic goop, walk into the shit storm, look the dragon in the eye and slay that hideous bitch once and for all. I need to see a professional who can help me do that and possibly find a spiritual teacher to work in tandem. Likewise, I need to learn more about being an empath, which I've suspected I am for years, but Tysa confirmed for me recently (I like to joke that it's the least useful and most annoying of the sensitive gifts, just sucking up other peoples' emotions. Why can't I just see dead people? I can do something with that.  ). It has much bearing on my inability to let things go like others can, I think particularly when it comes to romance. 

All that said...you may be thinking, "What a Debbie Downer," or "What an ungrateful bitch," or "She ought to try having cancer." Yup to all of it and so sorry to make you feel uncomfortable.  But my journey is my journey and my pain is my pain and it affects me uniquely and I'm not apologizing for it. I'm very, very weary of pretending it doesn't exist. I hate it and I want it soothed, healed, dispersed, obliterated. Okay...that's not realistic. Life is what it is and there will always be bumps in the road. I'm just trying to keep from driving entirely off the cliff at the moment, because that's what it feels like.

In closing (yes, I hear your sighs of relief)...this year is going to be a lot of work for me. And I'm going to be documenting much of it here. It's honestly my last attempt to make something of myself and my life - meaning to feel good about it and myself and be content in it and with myself - before choosing to pack up and move back home to little old Johnstown where I will shrivel up and die alone with my cat. If you choose to follow along on my journey, thank you. Maybe it can be of help to you.

God is screaming at me...

Greetings, little lambs! So we are now eight days into the New Year and wow, what a difference a few days makes. I am feeling considerably better and far more clear-headed than I was in my last post and that probably has a lot to do with allowing myself the first three days of the year to feel sorry for myself and get it all out of my system. Well, almost all of it anyway...I'm still prone to burst into tears at oddly inappropriate moments; it's just that they are simply fewer and farther between now. Also, I somehow started New Year's Day with nearly nothing on my calendar for January - yet now I'm not sure when I'll next have time for a full 8 hours of sleep! This is a good thing though, because I'm pretty sure God is screaming at me, "KEEP GOING, STOOPIT!!!"

My friend Candy says to me the other day, "Darc, you act like you haven't DONE anything. You know how they say 'a writer writes'...? You're a musician making music -- you're doing it." And I suppose she has an excellent point there...there are plenty of closet musicians in the world who don't even play for their own enjoyment anymore and I've certainly been that person at times in my life. I think what was getting me is that I had done lots of things that never seemed to actually lead anywhere. But I suppose as they say, "everything in its own time"...things happen when they're supposed to and when you're ready. There's that little quote, "Success is when preparedness meets opportunity." My friend and sight singing teacher Gerald White said in class once that the people who make it in this town are the people who were READY when the opportunities came knocking. I can look back on my life and know beyond the shadow of a doubt that I was NOT ready in the past. I feel like I am now.

So I'm a slow learner. Meh.

Anyway...out of the blue on Monday Tony Sweet asks me to come on his show at LA Talk Radio and talk about my music. I managed to lift my woah-is-me behind up to the keyboard and wipe my snot-nose long enough to type, "YES PLEASE!" Soooooo cool, cuz he's had some seriously big deal guests...like...

Mo'Nique ...

Sherri Shepherd...

Margaret Cho...

the incomparable Martha Wash...

...and many, many others. I've wanted to be on his show for quite awhile, because he is - wait for it - a gay Christian. No, that's not an oxymoron. They really exist. And I love that he has a show out there with the intent of drawing more of the same together. And seriously...THAT is my audience. Growing up in an evangelical home and now considering my most loyal fans are gay...it's a perfect fit. And as luck would have it, I had just gotten my first dance mix (holla, to Josh Harris!) and it was perfect timing to kick off its release on the show. It was such a privilege - not to mention SUPER fun - to be on the show tonight.

Tomorrow we're doing test shoots for my first music video, Sunday I compete in a singing competition called "Hollywood Idol" (whether I win or not I don't care - it's an opportunity to get to sing "Barracuda" with a live band, one of my favorite things to do on the planet!), Monday rehearsal with Debby Holiday to play the NAMM show on Friday, buncha students on Tuesday (Praisaluiah!!!), another round of Fame starts on Wednesday, students Thursday, oh it looks like NEXT Friday I can sleep...oh no wait...that's NAMM, up to Santa Barbara that weekend to visit my friend Chann who will be in the area for the week, and in the midst of all this I will be babysitting my quasi-nieces Rylie and Kayla (lurve!) here and there, writing/recording/releasing a song by Valentine's Day, hopefully singing a few Sundays at Church of the Brethren, recording some vocals for my old friend Chris Mitchell's new album, emailing a bazillion DJ's to beg them to spin my new dance mix of "Jezebel"...and driving myself off a cliff. If I'm smart, that is.

I cannot complain. Most of these commitments involving music have literally come about since my last post.

God is screaming at me.

Candy said, "You're doing it."

I suppose I am.

Main reason for this blog though is really to share that I will be visiting NYC in June. "Big deal," you think. "Anyone can visit New York." Hold up, now. While that is certainly true, one cannot always visit New York for FREE.

But I am!

A few years ago CBS had an AWESOME reality show called Rockstar: INXS. It was American Idol on steroids, rocking out, with FAR better talent and the most killer for-hire band in prime time I'd ever heard. Like I write my WMR for A.I., I decided to do so on the Rockstar message boards for that show as well. I ended up with a few fans from it. My friend Tiffany was one of them.

(To clarify, not "I Think We're Alone Now" Tiffany. This is Canadian Tiffany. She says "aboot.")

Tif has a wonderful husband and two daughters, one of whom was terribly sick with a heart condition and struggled through the first years of her little life. While she's still got some developmental issues, she's a corker and doing pretty dang well now. Tiffany used a song I wrote with Levi called "Hardly A Hero" to make a video to thank the nurses that worked at the hospital. It was really touching and reminded me that when the focus of what I do starts leaning way too heavily toward "the biz," I need to take a step back and remember that music is an element of healing and I have the privilege of being a vessel for it.

Fast forward to present day. Tif and I share lots of pictures and anecdotes of her girls and "my" girls (the twins) on ye olde Facebook just about every day. She mentions a few months ago about wanting to visit New York City for her birthday, but I think nothing of it, really. Then out of the blue recently she decides to ask me what I'm doing in June. My first thought was, "Probably nothing, like every other month in my life." (Tortured artist - my emotions are roller-coastery!) What I think I said was, "Dunno, why?" She proceeds to tell me that she is definitely going to go to NYC for her birthday, her hubby doesn't want to go, her friends up in Canada can't go and she REALLY felt led to ask me to go and that my flight would be paid for using points she's earned on her credit card. We could share a hotel room.

*cue record scratch*

What I say: "Tiffany, I snore like Shrek. No one who's ever shared a room with me has EVER done it again. It's really not advisable." (Right, Karen? Sisters?)

What I think: "And plus...we've never met in person. What if it turns out we hate each other???"

She says what I'd been thinking, "I know we haven't met in person and it might be weird. Let me think." (I get the impression that she thinks I made up the whole snoring thing to be polite...oh how I wish that were true! Karen? Sisters?) She tinkers for a day and messages me again. Turns out she's got enough points for both our flights and SEPARATE HOTEL ROOMS!

Now I start thinking to myself, "Self...you could be a totally fearful freak about this, or you can consider that you have been stewing for a good year now on how you could make a cost-effective trip to NYC to do a show soon and consider that God might be screaming at you again..." I also thought, "But it's too easy..."

And it really was. We had to mess with dates a little...Tiffany is a mother of two after all and she's got a very busy, activity-filled life and is leaving the kids with Dad for a whole five days, which...well...we all know how amazing moms are, let's just put it that way. But then HER mother, or mother-in-law?, said, "Just go and have fun. I got the kids." Then last night she's checking flights and such and everything is SO CHEAP. Tiffany keeps saying, "It's so meant to be! It's soooooo meant to be!"

And so last night she booked the tickets. And we will be in New York City celebrating our birthdays (mine is in May, hers the week before the trip), she for the first time EVER, me for the first time since 2006, from June 14th through the 18th. I'm going to bust my patootie to learn to play my own songs on the piano so I can book myself a show at Rockwood Music Hall, where I sang with Levi the last time I was in NYC. We're also going to be seeing the new musical Million Dollar Quartet (which will be starring someone I know). As my little seester Mandi would say, "IT'S A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE!!!"

And if it turns out Tif's left of nutso, I have several friends in the city with which to hide.

Just kidding, Tif!

I cannot express what a blessing this is. I cannot express my shock, either. This past year I have been stunned at the generosity of others in my life. I didn't say so at the time, but my flight to Nashville in October was paid for with a friend's hubby's frequent flier miles, too. Out of the blue she said, "We want to do this for you. We're in a position to help, so let us."

(You should know that on the vision board I made on New Year's Eve 2008, I had placed pictures of L.A., Nashville and New York, with the words "on the road again" beside them, having no idea how I would possibly make those trips happen.)

The lap top I use to teach my Skype lessons - donated by another friend through a program at his work. "Don't spend any money yet, I think I can get you something." Another friend earlier this week made a donation toward my music video. "Go make your video and DON'T use it on rent and DON'T talk about this anymore or I'll hang up on you right now." (Cuz of course I was blubbering over the phone, "Ohmygahthatisamazingicantpossiblyletyoudothisohmygahohmygahohmygah!")  And quite a few other things as simple as "We want to treat you to the new Harry Potter movie!" Or, "Come over and let me cook you my grandma's spaghetti and meatballs." Or one of the BEST things, "Let me pay for your cleaning lady to come, I know it's been awhile." (He had no idea! Seriously, DO THIS for a friend if you can, it's the BEST gift EVER!)

It appears people want me to succeed. Lunatics.

And yet...I complain? About ANYTHING? REALLY? I feel like I have no friends? Shut your frickin' piehole, Darci. No, I may not have someone only a mile or two away who's going to enable my ice cream addiction and allow me to whine and moan and slobber all over their shoulder and ruin their shirt. But it turns out I have so much more than that. I have love coming at me from ALL. OVER. NORTH. AMERICA. And probably from a couple folks across the pond, too. And how many people can lay claim to that? Yes, God is screaming at me. And conspiring with my friends - both old and new - to keep me from sentencing myself to a life behind a desk. If they all believe in me that much, and if I've been given a gift that is intended to be shared on more than just a local level, then I can do nothing but honor these calls to action. Anything less from me, at this point, would be an insult.

Yes God, I hear you. You can pipe down a little now.