The Life Part of Music.Love.Life.

The thing I love about my little “Music.Love.Life” tagline (one day the URL will free up and I’ll nab it) is that it means multiple things to me.  Usually on this blog, you guys see one side:  music being a big part of my life. But today’s post isn’t about music.

The “life” part of the tag exists for other reasons, too.

Sixteen years ago today, I fell.  Hit my head.  Pretty hard. (I know, it explains a lot.) Walked around for a few days with a pretty bad headache. Went to the doctor when it wouldn’t go away.  Had a fun little CAT scan, followed by an even more fun ride on a state trooper helicopter.  Too bad I don’t remember that part – by that time, they had me loaded up on pain medication.

See, when I fell, I gave my noggin’ a pretty good shake.  Enough to sheer some blood vessels that caused some blood to leak out and put extra pressure on my brain (hence, the headache).  All the paperwork says “Epidural hematoma,” but my Dad swears it was subdural (he’s a doc, saw the CAT scan).  Either way, same kind of effect.  Made me a little wonky, and required some drilling into my skull to get that blood off and relieve the pressure. Over that week in the hospital, I learned how serious my injury was and how lucky I was … I had a great neurosurgeon, amazing nurses, and family, friends and sorority sisters that were by my side the whole time.

I was 21 when it happened, in the middle of my senior year of college.   Although I was back at school in two weeks (with half of my hair missing!), the whole thing changed my life.  I vowed to reconcile with people I’d had issues with, I promised myself I’d live every day, love my family and friends more, etc., etc.  And I did.  Hell, me mending fences with someone I’d loathed since high school resulted in us dating and me moving to North Carolina.

But sixteen years later, I find myself sitting here on the anniversary of my fall and realizing that I’ve forgotten that resolution to live life to its fullest. The past couple of years have stressed me out to the point where I don’t even recognize myself some days.  Yes, I go out, I do things, I live, I have fun…but more often than not, my brain is working overtime thinking about other things. Work, Mom’s illness, friend drama, lack of a love life, lack of money … Instead of living, I’ve been worrying, stressing, being angry, being hurt, being sad … and I need to stop. Now. It’s not me.

I need to get back to the Krissie that laid in that hospital bed for a week, dreaming of all the things I was going to be, the fears I was going to conquer, the people I was going to love, and the adventures I was going to have if I could just get out of there.

My dear friend Stacy gave me the coffee mug pictured above for my birthday. “Live with passion” is on one side.  The other says  “The universe knows.”  Something about that mug made Stacy think of me…I’d like to think it’s because she knows me and knows that if I’m going to do anything, I do it all the way.  But maybe she gave it to me as a reminder because she’s watched me fall into this rut.  And as I sit here, looking at the mug, I’ve decided it’s my new motto.

“Live with passion.”

Life’s too short not to.

The Gifts of a Bad Year

As I sat in a fancy, schmancy hotel surrounded by some of my best friends watching one of my favorite songwriters sing “Old Lang Syne” on Friday night, I couldn’t help but be thankful that 2010 had finally ended.  It’s not been the best year for me and my family; in fact, I’d hazard saying that it was the worst year of my life.  Funny, though, how when your eyes are blurred by tears brought on by hard, heartbreaking events, you sometimes have the clearest vision of your world.  Amidst the bad things happening in 2010, I was given so many gifts.  I take so much for granted in my life – 2010 reminded me of all the people and things that I am truly lucky to have in my life.

As many of you know, my Mom was diagnosed with colorectal cancer in July.  It’s been a really horrific fight for her, and the last six months have seemed like an eternity.  Severe dehydration during her chemo treatment put her into septic shock and we came very close to losing her.  Her body has been through so much, and the emotional toll it has taken on her, my brother, sister and me, as well as many of our other family members, has been taxing.   I have spent the last five months being angry that this happened to my Mom, scared to death that I would lose her, worried about how we’re going to pay for everything, and heartbroken for her because this has completely changed her life.  And yet, despite all of those negative feelings, the good somehow shines through the bad.  In December, she was finally physically strong enough to have surgery to remove the tumor and we hope that we’ll soon have an “all clear.”  She’s had access to some of the best oncologists and surgeons in the country, thanks to where she lives.  The care she received at the Hospital at the University of Pennsylvania was beyond amazing.  I cannot possibly express my gratitude to everyone there who played a role in her care and recovery – but most especially the nurses.  If you’ve never had to sit in a hospital for days on end, you could never fully grasp the depths of compassion, knowledge, and hard work these people do every day.  I was astounded, over and over again, by the kindness shown to my Mom, and to our family, by these wonderful people who were complete strangers but cared for my Mom as if she was their own mother.  The biggest gift that 2010 gave me was the gift of my Mom:  she’s still here with us, and we remain optimistic that she will be cancer-free.

Beyond the obvious, Mom’s illness has also had an impact on my relationship with my family.  Since moving to North Carolina almost 13 years ago, my time with my family has been limited. I have been able to spend so much time with my Mom this year and feel much closer to her.  The same goes for my brother and sister, who have been unbelievably strong through this whole ordeal, bearing a lot of the burden because they area geographically closer to Mom.  There was hardly a day that went by during Mom’s six weeks in the hospital this year that one of us wasn’t there with her, and a lot of times, it was them.   My Dad and my stepmom have been incredible resources and pillars of strength for me.  Anytime I had a medical question, I was lucky enough to have them to turn to, and they were there, no matter what time of night I needed them.  My Gran, despite fighting through a severe illness of her own this year, was her same strong self, insisting upon feeding us when we were home, giving us money, and making what couldn’t have been easy physical trips for her up to the hospital to see my Mom. My Uncle Bull, my Mom’s brother, was so supportive and although his work schedule is extremely taxing, he took what little free time he had to visit Mom in the hospital, drive me to the airport, send text messages to check in, take care of stuff at Mom’s house while she was sick, or whatever we needed from him. My great Uncle Jack and Aunt Barb, who would do anything for their family, doing the same, making sure we were fed, checking on us constantly.  Not a day went by when my Aunt Nina, my Dad’s sister-in-law, who has remained friends with my Mom over the years, didn’t check in during Mom’s illness.  The same holds true for our extended family of friends and neighbors, who reached out over and over again to let us know we weren’t alone and to help whenever we needed it.  I am forever grateful for that, and count my family among the biggest gifts of 2010.

With everything that happened with my Mom, my own friendships really got neglected.  But that didn’t stop my friends – my other family – from being the most incredibly supportive group of people on the planet.  It’s true what they say; that when you’re in crisis, you find out who your true friends are.  I will never be able to repay my friends for what they’ve done for me and my Mom over the past few months.  From sending Mom cards, flowers and gifts (Christy and Andrew, Michelle, Kelly and Matt, Stacy, Lee, Kim, Peter, Jen, Shelia, Denise and Sue), to offering and giving me air miles to fly home at the last minute (Christy, Kelly and Matt), just calling to tell me they were thinking about my Mom (so many of you!), letting me cry on their shoulder (too many to list), cooking me dinner (Annie and Brad), or getting me out of the house for a few hours to forget about everything for awhile (a whole wide range of you and the staff at The Gin Mill, of course).   I would give my right arm (and leg) to be able to give back to my friends an ounce of the love they have showed me and my family.  My friends are always some of my biggest blessings, but this year, they are even more so.

I don’t often talk about work because I prefer to keep my work life and personal life separate, but I can’t possibly talk about the gifts of this last year without talking about my job.  I am so very lucky to have an employer who from the very moment I told them about my Mom’s illness, has been absolutely incredible.  At every level, from my direct manager on up to the CEO and founder of the company, I have received nothing but support.  Not once did I question my job’s security.  They allowed me the flexibility to take the time I needed to be with my Mom during her illness and work remotely when I could.  And, to top it all off, despite being out more than I have been in nearly 13 years with the company, I received a promotion at the end of the year.  I cannot be anything but grateful for working for a company that puts family first.

No blog from me would be complete without talking about music.  Music always inspires me, makes me happy, consoles me, and provides a soundtrack to my life.  This year, it did all those things, but with even more intensity.  I had a spectacular music year – where do I even begin to talk about it?  The highlight of my music year was finally, FINALLY getting to meet and see Christopher Jak perform.  Jak has been in my Top 5 artists since I first heard him in 2003, but I’d never been able to see him live.  So when the team at Rock by the Sea invited him to perform, I was without words.  His two performances were everything I expected and more.  A close second was seeing Alpha Rev live for the first time – the other band in my Top 10 that I’d never seen before.   Let’s just say that Casey McPherson is even more magical live…and I have a massive musical crush on Brian Batch.  If you ever want to watch someone absolutely crush an electric violin performance, I highly recommend getting your ass out to see this band.   The Influence continues to become a bigger and bigger part of my musical landscape, and the release of their new album, Falling Objects, was one of my favorite musical moments this year – the best release of the year, in my opinion.  Grace Potter – new album and two live shows this year.  Hello amazing.  And let’s not forget those Sequoyah Prep School kids.  The second half of the year was sadly a little lacking in shows from them, but they managed to tie The Influence boys for the band I saw most this year – six times in total. I’m eagerly anticipating the release of their new album in 2011.  And, lastly, thanks to the generosity of my bestie Christy and her wonderful fiance, I closed out the year with an intimate performance from the ever talented Emerson Hart, sitting less than 10 feet away from the man himself…there are worse ways to spend a New Year’s Eve, my friends.  Yes, indeed, music is a big gift from 2010.

One thing that has been missing from my life for a long time is writing.  I write every day for work, and occasionally here for the blog, but I haven’t earnestly tried to write anything for enjoyment in years.  Thanks to a challenge from my partner-in-crime Shelia, that changed this year.  The gauntlet was thrown:  sign up for NaNoWriMo and write a 50,000 word novel in the month of November. I completely and totally failed – only managed to get to 10K.  But, in failing, I succeeded.  I brought writing back to my life.  I had forgotten how much I enjoyed it, how exhilarating the process could be, how much I enjoyed creating characters.  In 2011, writing will be more a part of my life.  So thank you Shelia for encouraging the writer in me, and giving me the gift of writing again.

I could go into a list of a million other things that brought me happiness in 2010 – being asked to be the maid-of-honor at Christy and Andrew’s wedding, photography, silly things like Guinness and Hawaii Five-0 – and it would probably take pages and pages.  As I sweep 2010 out the door and welcome 2011, I can only hope that 2011 brings me more gifts like the ones I received in 2010.  2010 may have been the worst year of my life, but somehow, that makes the good things, big and small, matter even more.

Rob Fleming, where are you?

There’s a scene in the novel High Fidelity, written by the ever-brilliant Nick Hornby, where the main character, Rob Fleming, is talking about making a mix tape for Laura, his at the time ex-girlfriend, at the very beginning of their relationship. It’s a fabulous scene, and as a maker of many, many mixes, I always get a giggle out of reading it. Because for those of us who take mix-making seriously, there are definite rules…

I spent hours putting that cassette together. To me, making a tape is like writing a letter – there’s a lot of erasing and rethinking and stating again, and I wanted it to be a good one, because…to be honest, because I hadn’t met anyone as promising as Laura since I’d started the DJ-ing, and meeting promising women was partly what the DJ-ing was supposed to be about. A good compilation tape, like breaking up, is hard to do. You’ve got to kick off with a corker, to hold the attention (I started with “Got to Get You Off My Mind,” but then realized that she might not get any further than track one, side one if I delivered what she wanted straightaway, so I buried it in the middle of side two), and then you’ve got to up it a notch, or cool it a notch, and you can’t have white music and black music together, unless the white music sounds like black music, and you can’t have two tracks by the same artists side by side, unless you’ve done the whole thing in pairs, and…oh, there are loads of rules.”

I love making mix CDs. Truly love it. I wish there was a job that involved making mix CDs for a living (oh, who am I kidding, there probably is). Figuring out how songs fit together, how they match up – and how they don’t – is magical for me. That’s part of the reason I do my seasonal mixes for my friends; hate to burst the bubble of the 75 or so of you who get the Krissie, but it really is a rather selfish endeavor. True, I like to help the artists out by introducing them to new people, but even more, I love the process of putting the mix together. There’s nothing like feeling like you’ve made a great mix. There’s a definite sense of accomplishment to it. When I make mixes, I make a playlist and dump songs into it as I build the mix. Then I listen to it in the car. Over and over again. And I know when I’ve got a winner when I keep wanting to repeat sections just to hear the way songs ebb and flow into one another. On a Krissie Mix, I always have a favorite “section” where it’s perfect to me. Rarely do I make a whole mix that I love all the way through, but there are occasions.

I spent a good chunk of today listening to a mix CD made by my best friend, Christy. Christy is an artist with mix CDs. Getting them in the mail from her is like Christmas every time. Christy’s getting married in the spring, and to me, it’s obvious that she’s madly in love when I listen to this most recent mix. There are songs about being in love, and being part of something, and traveling across the ocean (her fiance lives in Ireland; she lives in Georgia). I’m sure she was thinking about Andrew the whole time she was making it, and that makes it adorable.

When I was in college, my best friend from home and I used to make crazy numbers of mix tapes for one another. Thing was, I was madly in love with him; I’d like to think the feeling was mutual. I spent HOURS working on mixes for him. Choosing every song carefully, because the lyrics reminded me of him or because I thought something in the song would make him laugh or smile. And as much as I loved making mixes for him, the best part was getting his mixes. They were always so full of him, funny and eclectic. Because he hid messages in them, I knew, for me, just like I did for him. And there was a certain kind of joy in discovering them, one that sent my heart fluttering every time. Even after college, I’d occasionally get a mix CD from him. I still have every single mix he ever made me. And I’ll probably always keep them. They mean the world to me, knowing that he thought about me enough to sit down and make me a mix. I make a lot of mix CDs, but it’s been a long time since I’ve made one for someone because I was falling for them or because I loved them. Is there anything more romantic?

I so need a Rob Fleming in my life. I think I’ll start taking applications….

“Nobody tells you anything…” – Shane Hines

Last night, I watched a girl get so drunk that she passed out on the floor at the bar (and then proceeded to vomit everywhere). It took a team of us – who didn’t even know her – to get her cleaned up and outside for some fresh air. This poor girl had been left alone at the bar by her friends. She had no one there but the bar staff and three strangers who cared about her getting home safely. Who leaves their friend at a bar? We eventually tracked down a friend of hers using her cell phone. He walked to the bar to get her and was so flipping cavalier about it I wanted to smack him. Two other girls and I hailed a cab for them. I’m pretty sure her friend was a big jerk.

This morning, I’m sitting here having my cup of spiced cider and thinking about that girl. I don’t know what her story was, but there were things she said and clues that maybe things weren’t going so great in her life. I hope she got home okay, and I hope she doesn’t wake up this morning feeling too badly, or feeling embarrassed about what happened. We’ve all been there…well, maybe not there, but we’ve all done things that we’re not too proud of. You live and you learn; sometimes the lessons don’t come easily, sometimes they hurt emotionally and physically, and sometimes they come with a hangover…

At 36, although there are always things I wish I could improve, I’m happy with my life and proud of the person I am. But I’m still learning lessons, and still reminded daily that life is precious. This year has been a testament to the fact that you never know where your life is going to take a big fat right turn. When my Mom was diagnosed with cancer this summer and then had serious complications from the treatment, I was touched by the outpouring of love from our family and our friends. And I was reminded over and over again how lucky I am to have my Mom; she really has given me, my brother, and my sister everything. I was blown away by the kindness of strangers, too – when you hear all these negative media reports about the health care system, go sit in an ICU unit for a few days and watch how the nurses care for people. Then there are the “little things”… Like that I tend to hang onto things I shouldn’t – anger, sadness, hurt feelings – too long. So I’m trying very hard to let things go – “put it in a little red balloon and let it float away,” as Shelia says. And although I still take everything too seriously, I’m finally learning to laugh at myself. And just recently, I started writing again, something I had thought I’d lost the ability to do. Still learning about myself, and still surprising myself…

My friend Shane Hines released a new record this week. It’s called All the Quiet, All the Chaos. And it’s a record about this very thing – life’s curveballs, surprises, and little victories. One of the tracks is called “Nobody Tells You Anything.” I loved it the moment I heard it three or so years ago when he first started playing it, so I’m happy it found its way onto this record. I thought I’d share the lyrics here, because they’ve been running through my head this morning. And because it’s just a reminder that life can always surprise us, and that we should never take what we have for granted.

Nobody Tells You Anything – written by Shane Hines

When you wake in the morning, who knows what the day brings
The sorrow comes on without warning, and she spreads her wings
You either rise or you give up, a change in who you are to who you want to be
It’s hard to admit what is and what once was, and not to live in the space between

Cause nobody tells you love is gonna come and go
Nobody tells you God is someone you’ll never know
Nobody tells you friends will take the other side
Nobody tells you scars are usually on the inside
Nobody tells you wars inside will always rage
Nobody tells you that you can’t outrun heartbreak
Nobody tells you why you have to know the pain of watching someone you love suffer and slip away
Yeah nobody, nobody tells you anything

When you wake in the morning, who knows what the day brings
Cause happiness comes on without warning and she spreads her wings
Cause nobody tells you ’bout watching the sunrise
Nobody tells you how good it feels after you cry
Nobody tells you ’bout staying up all night with friends
Nobody tells you ’bout the first snow of the season
Nobody tells you that pain eventually goes away
Nobody tells you the best things can never be explained
Nobody tells you how a heart ripped and torn knows nothing but joy when your child is born
Yeah nobody, nobody tells you anything

Cause nobody believes, no matter how hard you try
The one thing that we cannot control is time

Rest in Peace, Lance

Really sad news today.  The former drummer from Sam Thacker’s band, Lance Tilton, passed away in a car accident early Thursday morning.  An incredibly talented musician, gone entirely too soon.  I only met him a handful of times, but it still breaks my heart.

Hope there’s a big old drum kit in heaven, Lance.  Rock on.

Lance Tilton