The Launch

The launch was... a success. If you're pressed for time I guess you'd need read no further. For those interested in details, I will try to provide some. Try.

Unlike Tuesday, Thursday was one of those days where everything seemed to be going right. It started earlier than I'm used to - since I've been working from home my alarm goes off at a lazy 9am most days and hit snooze for a good half hour or so after that. But today I had things to do, so at 7.30am I woke to the beloved sounds of 3RRR's Breakfasters and hauled myself out of bed. My hair appointment was at 9am on Acland St (St Kilda) and I figured I would need to leave by 8.30 to make it, despite only living a few kms further round the bay. Peak hour in Melbourne is real, and very scary.

I shovelled down my Sultana Bran Crunch mixed with Apricot & Almond Natural Muesli, topped with low fat vanilla yoghurt and a sliced fresh pear. Not exactly a rockstar breakfast, I know, but I have been working extremely hard on my diet to help overcome my vocal nodules. I realise what I eat for breakfast seems somewhat unrelated to the callouses that have formed on my vocal cords but my singing teacher & naturopath assure me that they're very much related. Something about gastric reflux.

So... I bolted my breakfast, showered, dressed appropriately for the stunning late spring morning that was shaping up around me, and got out the door by quarter to nine. Late. No-one, including myself, understands how it can possibly take me more than an hour to get ready in the mornings. It could be the breakfast, but it was the same deal back in the 2 pieces of toast with vegemite days as well. Maybe other people just don't eat breakfast??

By some freak of nature I actually arrived in St Kilda before 9, parked my car, and powerwalked to Smik Studios, entering at 9 on the dot, before they had even had a chance to turn around the 'closed' sign on the door. It's a good day!

The stylist was an older guy with a large pot who looks like a rather camp hell's angel. If that makes sense!! Greying handlebar moustache, tattoos, tobacco smell that lingers... you get the picture. But a hairdresser... which changes the picture somewhat.

I've never actually had him for a stylist before but he's the one they always get to fix my fringe when someone else has mangled it. So I was extremely pleased that he would be doing my hair on the BIG DAY despite the slightly nauseating odour.

"What are you having done, darl?"
"The usual, just refresh the colour and a bit of a trim please"
"Looks like chocolate... have you been here before?"
"Yes, I always have my colour done here." I said rather curtly, miffed that he didn't recognise me although I was in his salon every 6 weeks without fail.
He disappeared and re-emerged with my chart, smiling to himself. "Chocolate, I thought so" he said smugly.

While my colour was doing it's thing, I whipped out a ziploc bag from my handbag, containing everything I'd need for an express manicure. Nail file, clippers, nail polish remover to fix the mistakes, a very red shade of nailpolish, and superfast drying topcoat. I was halfway through the left hand when a voice behind me said "do you want a hand?"
I looked up and there was a stunningly made up girl who I'd seen behind the counter, chatting to the other hairdressers. I'd assumed she was one of them.
"I'm a beauty therapist. Let me help you with that."

I gladly relinquished my hands to her and 15 minutes later was blowing on ten professionally manicured fingers. I thought it would be pushing my luck to whip off my shoes and ask her to do my toes (mental note, do toes later).

My colour looked great and the cut was expert. I was a bit worried when the stylist started drying it wavy, not straight like I'd asked, but he'd assured me it would be fabulous. He was right.

By 11am I was driving back down the coast on this glorious morning, ready to tick more items off my list. The day went smoothly, I even had time to take Chester for a walk down to the beach and eat my lunch there. I also scored a free upgrade on the car I'd hired, since my tiny Toyota Echo was no match for my fully weighted 88 key Roland keyboard and big mumma amp. They were out of Subaru Forresters, so I scored myself a gigantic Nissan Pathfinder for the same price. Adam joked (via sms from Brisbane) that he was picturing me riding round in a Humvee and the name stuck. I was a bit worried at first, but drove it like a pro - even in four inch heels. Makes me rather grateful for the four wheel driving course a previous employer (Landrover) had sent me on. Who knew it would come in useful for getting myself to gigs??

I managed to haul all my gear into the truck (on my own) without any tears or bruises (not always the case) and made it across town to the East Brunswick Club for soundcheck about 15 minutes late (not too bad for me). To my surprise everyone was there except Ric, the guitarist, who was working and only had a 30 minute window to soundcheck before going back to work. Our challenge was to have everything set up so he could just walk in and play. We didn't quite get there. Still, we did get to run through one song with him and it felt great. The East has a kickass new sound system, and we've never played on something that good before. The sound onstage was a whole new level of awesome and Tom's voice through the PA... *sigh*. I never get tired of hearing him sing.

Once we were set up it was time to get ourselves ready, and I realised I'd forgotten one thing. Undies.

Of course I was wearing some, but they were grey Bonds, not the sexy black I wanted to show if by some chance the audience should catch a glimpse under my black above the knee country/noir style dress.

Shit.

Going home wasn't the best option, as I live on the other side of the city and it was now peak hour. Our drummer Wes needed to find batteries for his metronome, and Tom came up with the answer. Kmart.

We took my truck the short drive to Barkly Square, with Wes all the while asking "can I drive it?" No. "Can I drive it on the way back?" No!

We arrived at Kmart & both made a beeline for our requirements. We must have looked rather odd going through the checkout, with two bottles of Lemon/Lime Powerade, a pair of black lacy knickers, and a ten pack of Double A batteries!!

We went back to Tom's house as he lives locally, and I got dolled up while the boys played Guitar Hero on Playstation. A great way to get amped before a gig!!

I emerged from the bathroom a different woman and we headed back to the venue where Adam was waiting for us (YAY!) at a table with Ric, Will (the bass player), Paris (our new manager), and her parents. I almost walked right past the table because I'd never met Paris' parents and didn't realise they were with us!!

Dinner was pretty uneventful and then it was showtime!! The doors opened at 8.30 and the first band, Winterpark, went on shortly after. The next two hours was a complete blur, with more and more people arriving, hugging & kissing me and me trying to have 50 conversations at once. It felt like I knew everyone there. Our merch table was set up and the badges I'd had made up were selling well, my friends kept coming up to me to show me they were wearing one. Cute!!

Winterpark were great, I really liked their set and thought they were the perfect opening band. The Beings came on and were much rockier. I'd been worried that they might blow us off the stage, but when it came down to it, most of the people in that room were there to see us, and by the time we went on I was pumped!!

I went to the loo twice before the set, reapplied my very red lipstick and was ready to roll. We walked onstage to what felt like a roar and played a massive set. Immediately when we'd started I needed to pee again. Anyone who knows me knows this is not unusual. I also realised that I'd left my minidisc out the back in the band room. Bugger. I was hoping to record the show for posterity. Never mind, there were plenty of cameras and video cameras around, there should be plenty of posterity.

The set seemed to go very quickly, and there was a weird silence following the applause for each song. This was not a rowdy crowd. To be fair, we are not a very rowdy band either, so that makes sense. But their appreciation & support was genuine, and the odd "we love you Cara", countered by "we love you Tom" from the other side of the room was entertaining.

The set was a little rougher than it should have been for a launch, since we have stopped rehearsing twice a week (due to the drummer living in Bendigo - 2 hrs from Melbourne) we can sometimes be a bit sloppy. It's weird because in a way our live show has improved a lot in the last year, we look better and play with more confidence, a bit more swagger. But every now and then a gig feels under-rehearsed, we screw up tempos or just make mistakes that shouldn't be there. Anyway, it wasn't terrible but it wasn't our best performance. But regardless it felt great and by the final song we hit our stride. This song, Onslaught, has recently evolved so that it starts out very small, with just Tom singing & strumming gently, then i join in with piano & harmonies, and at the end of the song the band joins in and we jam it out. It has become a bit of a showstopper. And we played it very well that night.

We quickly left the stage and were brought back for an encore, a triumphant rare performance of Down the Road. Making my mum & dad very happy - it's their favourite song and we never play it!

After the encore we had a group hug in the band room (possibly our first in over 3 years of playing together... awwww) and went out to work the crowd. It's always fun lapping up the praise after a gig like this, and there were big smiles all round. I made sure I went straight up to Paris to thank her for all the work she's done. In her short time with us, she has achieved a remarkable amount, and I really think she will help push us to the next level. She and I work well together, we bounce off each other and push each other, and I love having another person who's so committed to making this happen as I am. It can be exhausting pushing when you're the only one doing it.

The venue were really impressed with the numbers, apparently it was great for a Thursday night. I was happy, we (just) exceeded my estimate. Trying to sort out the money with Paris afterwards was the funniest thing. She had had one too many drinks and we were just not getting anywhere. In future I think we should just take it all home & sort it out the next day.

Adam my wonderful partner and roadie extraordinaire packed up most of my gear for me while I was chatting to people and I helped him load it into the hummer ready for home. He was flying back to Brisbane for work in the morning so no partying on for us. Paris badly wanted us to go out to Pony or somewhere... apparently "the band" turning up somewhere after their launch is the cool thing to do. But Wes had to drive back to Bendigo, we had to go home, it just wasn't going to happen. I hope she doesn't leave us when she realises we're just not true rock stars! I thought she already knew that but maybe she thought we'd change...

So overall it was a successful night. Taking into account everything we spent on advertising, etc, we just broke even, which is not bad for us! Definitely could have gone worse! It turned out Jess, the brilliant sound guy, borrowed a minidisc recorder from the chef at the venue, so we even have most of the set on tape! Now we just had to hope someone was there who might write a review, and that the photos worked out ok so we would have some decent live shots to give our publicist.

The next day I would be on a plane to Brisbane for a week in the sunshine...

Murphy's Law

On Tuesday I had one of those days where nothing seemed to go right...

I woke up with a start at 11am realising straight away that I had overslept and was late taking Chester (the tiny crazy robot dog) to the vet. He was booked in for an x-ray at 10.30am. Whoops. Plus I had a sore throat. And my band's CD launch was in two days. Great.

I sprinted through the shower, chucked some clothes on, bundled Chester into the car half strangling him with the doggy seat belt I'd bought recently to prevent him from hurtling through the windscreen at 60kph should I break suddenly.

Made it to the vet in record time explaining breathlessly that I'd overslept and I would understand if I was too late and had to reschedule. "Don't worry," the vet nurse said, "I slept in today too, it's fine." Phew!

So I left Chester in her capable hands, him giving me dirty looks as I said goodbye. Last year he had seven teeth removed under general anasthetic at this surgery. He has never forgiven me.

I dashed home to get some work done before coming back to pick him up in a few hours. The vet took me into her office and showed me the x-rays. "This is his heart. It should be much smaller than this and less round. See here, it's putting pressure on his windpipe which is what's causing the coughing. There's also a build up - here - of fluid around his heart." Diagnosis: congestive heart failure.

I should point out here that Chester has always been a bit of a cougher. And he has a heart murmur. Chihuahuas apparently have soft palate issues, and so sound like they're clearing their throats a lot. But recently, his cough has gone from a little throat clear to a full chested old-man cough. Which is why I mentioned it at his recent immunisation appointment. I should also probably mention that Chester is a non-yappy long haired chihuahua who absolutely adores me, and although he is very dumb he is also extremely cute and I am a bit in love with him. So this is not good news.

The vet prescribed some tablets to help his blood pressure and reduce the fluid build up. I was hoping this wouldn't happen as it's a pain in the ass to medicate dogs, and I didn't want him to be on medication for the rest of his life. He's only 10, which is kind of middle aged in small dogs, so that could be several years. But I also didn't want the old man cough to continue so I had no choice.

She took me out the back to collect Chester, who was sitting in a cage glaring at me. The nurses all fawned over him, saying he's the only good chihuahua they've ever had, or as the vet put it, he "gives chihuahuas a bad name."

I gathered him up and paid the two hundred and something dollar bill (thanks very much, not only do you give me the news that my cuddly companion is seriously ill, but you sting me $200 on the way out) and headed home.

You should have seen me, tiny little tablet in one hand, schmacko in the other, trying to get Chester to take the tablet. He's not as dumb as he looks. Every time I tried to give him the tablet, he turned and went straight for the schmacko. Finally I just shoved it in his mouth, figuring he didn't have enough teeth left to bite me. He spat it out. Little bastard! Eventually I got a spoonful of canned food from the fridge and buried the tablet in that. This is what I have to do every morning now. Great.

I had plans to meet my friend Sandra at 3:15 to see the new dancing movie "Step Up". Sandra is a friend from Le Bop, and we were about the only two dancers left who hadn't seen it. She is just finishing her teaching degree and working odd part time jobs, so like me was available during the day for such events. The beauty of my current employment status is that work can often be shuffled round to fit in with a social life, rather than the other way round.

I gargled some Betadine sore throat gargle in the vague hope that it would kill the sore throat that was nagging me and hopped back in the car.

I was driving into the Jam Factory (a shopping centre with a cinema on Chapel St) carpark at 3:18pm when my phone beeped. Oh shit, she's been waiting for ages and I'm late. But it's not like her to be so anal and ring me when I'm 3 minutes late. What's going on??

The message read: "I'm in Scooter buying shoes". Brilliant!

By the time I parked & arrived at Scooter, Sandra had already bought one pair and was trying on a second. "Why don't I go get our tickets?" I volunteered. The movie was due to start at 3:30. So I scored the tickets and came back to check her progress. "I feel like my mum in these," she was saying. They were a little mum-ish, but she needed sensible work shoes with low heels that looked professional. These shoes fitted the bill. But, they were not yet on sale.
While she deliberated, I wandered to the bargain rack at the back of the store. Within about 30 seconds, I had tried on a gorgeous pair of open-toed snakeskin heels, noted the bargain price, and handed over my eftpos card. I shouldn't really be buying shoes, but they were so cheap!!! And hot!!

We made it into the cinema just as the opening credits were starting. We were the only ones there. Excellent!! We spread out and settled in to enjoy.

The dancing was amazing, the storyline so cliched I could have written it, and the male lead super hot - all the perfect ingredients for a great dancing movie. We came out thoroughly satisfied and Sandra was pumped for the ballet class she was about to take. Her dance partner and her had done a deal - he needed to improve his spinning and she needed to be more glamourous. He agreed to take spinning classes as long as she took ballet.

So Sandra rushed off to ballet and I headed home. I was absolutely starving by this point... lunch hadn't factored into my day yet, so i heated up some leftover salmon & veg stir fry and settled down at my computer to get some more work done.

At some point I realised that if I wanted to wear my new shoes for my CD launch I'd better wear them in. I pulled the SALE sticker off the sole and sprayed them with waterproof & left them to dry. When I finally pulled them on and took a few steps I teetered. Huh? They had fit like gloves in the store. I had tried them on in a hurry, but the clincher in buying them was that they fit perfectly and the leather was so soft I thought they'd be comfortable and easy to walk in. I took a few more steps and each time I did the slingback on the right shoe fell off causing the shoe to wobble. Not good. Cranky at my poor impulse buying I yanked them off and went back to work.

I had a break to watch Australian Idol at 7:30. I'm hopelessly addicted and this was a world first - the remaining 7 idols were to perform their own original songs. Yay! It was I think the best show so far this year, and they should always be allowed to play their own songs. In my humble opinion!!

During an ad break I picked up one of my poor discarded new shoes to examine it. They were so gorgeous, what a shame I would have to take them back. Something caught my eye. On the inside of the shoe I was holding, there were some tiny silver letters and numbers. D40752 9. The first part was obviously the model number, I had worked in retail long enough to know that. But 9??? I would have guessed that was the size. I am not a size 9. I turned the shoe over and my suspicions were confirmed. Imprinted into the sole below "Made in China" was the number 9. Definitely the size. No wonder they didn't fit.

I picked up the other shoe, which was a size 8. 8!!!! So somehow between me trying them on and getting the box from out the back the girl had managed to switch one of the 8's for a 9 and box them up. Dammit!! Well at least that meant I wasn't going crazy, the shoes had undoubtably fit in the shop, it was just that I was trying to wear two different sizes now. But it also means I have to go all the way back to South Yarra tomorrow and swap the 9 over. On the day before my CD launch. Who has time for that??!!! And knowing my luck they would be the last 2 shoes left and they wouldn't be able to track down the other size 8 and I'd have to give back these gorgeous shoes. Dammit.

After Idol I set about crossing some things off my list. I'm a bit of a compulsive lister. Leading up to the CD launch there was a lot to be done, compounded by the fact that I was flying to Brisbane the following day for a week's holiday with Adam. Adam is an IT contractor, currently working a 6 month contract in Brisbane, a two hour plane ride north of where we live in Melbourne. I had booked the flights a few weeks ago... the launch preparations had been quite stressful and I figured a week in the sun would be just what I'd need. But I didn't really factor in the increased stress that would be induced by having to get everything finalised before then. Oh well, only a few more days and I'd be there.

One of the things on my list was the washing. I had done most of it over the past few days but had a few items that needed to be handwashed. One of them being an amazing red & white candy striped dress I'd found recently on sale for $40!!! I had worn it twice, once in my band's recent photoshoot and once to a wedding. I was planning to wear it to Derby Day - part of Melbourne's Spring Racing Carnival. It was a perfect dress for the races, I couldn't wait to find a hat or fascinator to go with it - I had a girly shopping outing already planned for this purpose. So, I filled the sink with warm water and plunged the dress in. The water started to go pink. Uh-oh. Should've used cold water. It'll be ok, I'll give it a rinse and a spin in the machine & it'll be fine. Shit. It's not fine. The bottom half is still red and white but the top half is now red and white!!! Shiiitt!!!!

"Hi dad, is mum there?"
"Hang on"....

"Hi, what's up?"
"Oh mum I've just ruined the best piece of clothing I've ever owned!!"
"Oh no, what happened?"
"The red and white stripes have turned red and pink!!"
"Oh dear. I'm not the expert on this..."
"I know but I LOVE this dress!! I HAVE to fix it!!"
"There is something called Run Away you could try."
"I know, I already thought of that, but I've tried it before and it says on the packet it's only for use on white fabric."
"Hmm... maybe you could try it anyway. Go to the supermarket and see if there's anything else like that. If not maybe you'll just have to try it. You probably can't make it much worse!"
"Thanks mum, you're a lifesaver."

I went to Coles (i should point out it's about 10:30pm by now) and found the sachet of Run Away. I read the back carefully, and it said NOT FOR USE ON COLOURED FABRIC. Dammit. It also said FOR COLOURED FABRIC, TRY COLOUR-SAFE RUN AWAY. Bingo!!
I sprinted up to the counter. Do you have this for coloured fabric??

Several phone calls later the poor check out chick established that not only this store didn't have it, but neither did any in a 10km radius. Panic was rising in my throat. I decided to buy the sachet anyway, like mum said, I probably couldn't ruin the dress much more. In the car I had a thought & pulled out my phone.

"Safeway Prahran, please" I said to the call connect operator. I realised that just because Coles didn't stock the product didn't mean their competitors didn't.

Half an hour later I was driving back from Prahran (my second trip to Chapel st in a day) smugly with the sachet of Colour-Safe Run Away tucked in my handbag. Disaster averted. Maybe.

I followed all the instructions and pulled the dress out of the machine half an hour later. It looked better... but still not perfect. There was still a hint of pink in the white stripes. Bugger. After all that! But it was better than before, maybe when it dried it wouldn't be noticeable at all. Adam suggested maybe I could go back to the store and buy the dress again, if it was so cheap and I loved it so much it would be worth it. It was a possibility but I was pretty sure I had gotten the last one in my size so I doubted they'd still have it. Oh well. At least it was immortalised in the photoshoot. I guess if it looked terrible now I'd just have to find a new dress for Derby Day, wouldn't I?

So that was my terrible Murphy's Law day, I went to bed in a foul mood with a nagging sore throat thinking I just wish this CD launch could be over so I can be lying by the pool in my bikinis, book in one hand and cocktail in the other, with all this stress a distant memory.

A beginning...

Well I have restisted this for a while, but it seems I have too much to say and too strong a desire to say it.
So here I am, this is not my first blog, there are attempts on a myspace page, but it is too closely linked to my band to be able to speak completely freely so this might be a good alternative. We'll see how it goes. It is quite possible that like with many things, i'll be all enthusiastic at the start, but gradually the enthusiasm will wane and my entries will become as sporadic as phone calls to my grandmother. We will see...
Hmm where to start???
I guess by explaining the name.
I have played the piano since I was seven, and have sung in choirs since Mrs Mac finally let me in the prestigious A Cappella Choir in Year 9, following an audition of Mary Had a Little Lamb. In Grade 5 my friend Bianca and I used to play Record Companies, setting up an office in the family room, making mix tapes of our favourite Kylie & Jason and Bon Jovi hits, and taking orders on our Care Bears phones. We also used to dress up my cousins and make them mime to the B52s and Milli Vanilli for our film clips. Other early indicators of my rockstar ambitions were getting up at 6am on Saturdays to watch Rage & Video Hits (not cartoons like the other kids), holing myself up in my bedroom every Saturday night for four hours to tape my favourite songs from Take 40 Australia, organising a concert every Christmas where my poor long-suffering younger cousins were forced to dress up and mime as my backing singers/band to Right Said Fred, Belinda Carlisle and god knows what else.
Fast forward to the summer of 1996... I had just graduated from high school, turned 18 and discovered boys. I was a very late bloomer, thanks to being a scholarship student at an outer suburban all girls private school, and not being able to afford to take ballroom dancing classes, tennis lessons, horse riding, or any other of the expensive ways my friends met boys.
During the latter years at this school my musical tastes had become more refined, culminating in an obsession with Pearl Jam. This had led me to bond with a couple of girls outside my usual group, and I started going to underage gigs with them. One of them had a twin brother, and I started to hang out with him and his friends a little bit. Of course I was completely terrified of boys, and had no idea what to do when I liked one, but it was a start. I invited this gang to my 18th birthday party and had in turn been invited to a few others around the same time. Things were developing...
So, I think the turning point was New Years Eve - at least half a dozen of us loaded up the Bruiser (blue land cruiser) with alcohol and sleeping bags and drove down to Lorne for Rock Above The Falls - a 3 day music extravaganza (now known as The Falls Festival). During this time I sealed my new friendships with spumanti under the stars and a smorgasbord of indie bands and hare krishna food.
You can imagine my delight when the boys invited me to come 'jam' with their band. I was very nervous, especially when the audition involved me being shut in a room with a tiny keyboard and a 4-track. I was to come up with an organ track for their new song.
Somehow i passed the test and jamming with the band became a regular thing. They didn't have a name, or any gigs, but we had a ball playing covers of our favourite Radiohead and REM tracks.
This band lasted for four years, during which time we found a drummer who could actually play, went through 4 guitarists (one twice!), worked on some original songs, made a demo, and played at almost every small band room in Melbourne. I was convinced we were going to be huge, we just needed a bit more focus (all our drummer wanted to do was play Alice in Chains covers down at the Berwick pub) and enough money to finish the studio (the singer's parents had generously donated their double garage to be converted into a recording studio. this project was neverending.) Then our bass player went to London to do the UK working visa thing. Work on the studio continued, but rehearsals and gigs were not an option. I decided that it was a good time to go overseas myself, as there wasn't much keeping me in Melbourne. I applied to do my last uni semester on exchange in Canada and was accepted.
Bored yet? I didn't expect this entry to be my whole life story!! But now that I'm on a roll...
So, had a brilliant time in Canada, made some life long friends and got a new perspective. Four years studying music at uni had been tough, standards were high and I had found it very hard just to pass the performance part of the degree. So the break from music was very timely and allowed me to focus on other parts of who I was.
After my semester in Canada i wanted to backpack around Europe, visiting the friends I had made in the last few months. I started with my old pal, the bassplayer, living in London with his girlfriend. He gave me his blue acoustic guitar, saying he didn't want to lug it around when he went travelling, so I carted it round with me instead, feeling very bohemian. Unfortunately I'm not very good at the guitar, but noodling around on it gave me something to do when I ran out of money.
When I got home from my 'big trip' I started working full time almost straight away in a finance job. It wasn't what I really wanted to be doing but I had bills to pay and this job sounded like a 'great opportunity' and would give me excellent 'transferrable skills', you get the drift. So I worked hard and soon had a company car and was living in a share house in South Yarra, a rather posh inner suburb of Melbourne, home of the shopping mecca Chapel Street. During this time I had been dragged along to a dance class by a friend, loved it, and had become obsessed. I was terrible at first, but improved gradually and to my surprise was asked by an advanced guy called Adam if I would like to compete with him in a national competition in Sydney. Yes! was my immediate answer (he told me later he was prepared for all the possible ways I would reject his offer but not the yes I blurted out!!) and we began rehearsing a routine to Vanilla Ice and Salt n Pepa. Yes, I know, it was 2002 but we wanted to stand out from all the J-Lo routines happening at the time.
Adam and I were a hit, we didn't win of course as I'd only been dancing for a few months and it was an open competition, but our musical choice and entertainment value gained us respect from the other dancers and many laughs on the night. Shortly after the competition, a friend had a party, Adam and I got very drunk, and the rest is history. The next day I fell off a horse.
Don't worry, I was ok, if this were a movie I would have been in a coma and there would be a montage of all the beautiful moments Adam and I had spent together before he had to switch off my life support system, but just before he does, I blink, and he pulls the tubes out of my mouth and we kiss passionately and live happily ever after. This is not a movie.
What happened instead was that I got very bruised and sore and have since had chronic neck & back pain. It is much better now but has taken a long time to heal. Which meant dancing started to be less fun.
Also, I was miserable at work. It had been great for a while, and I did indeed learn lots of great skills and make good money, but my boss was getting on my nerves and I felt like my life was getting a bit off track. I hadn't spent 5 years at uni studying music/commerce to spend my career selling loans for cars which cost more than a house and land package in the suburbs. I hated the clients I was dealing with, I hated car salesmen, I hated being one of the only females in the workplace, I hated maths (and was doing lots of it) and I missed playing in a band.
Adam, being his wonderful supportive self, convinced me to take some time off and look for a new job and maybe a band to join. I found a couple of bands whose demos I liked and started jamming with them, and things started to look up. Shortly afterward, I found a new job at a books/music store and things felt a whole lot better. Sure, I took a paycut going from a fancy finance job to a lowly bookstore clerk, but I was finally working with people my own age who shared my interest in music & culture, and although customers were still a pain in the ass, they were only buying a CD from me, not a two hundred thousand dollar loan, so it was easier to not let them get to me.
Gradually a few bands became one and now, in October 2006, we have just released our first official CD. It's a 4-track EP with an album waiting in the wings. The Melbourne EP launch was last week and went brilliantly, and it feels like although we have been playing together for several years, the journey is just beginning. It is a very exciting and busy time, and a few months ago I left my full-time job as a PA (yes the bookstore didn't last long, I'm just too ambitious darnit!) to concentrate on my music career. I did a short course in small business management, and the band is now behaving more like a business than a hobby. In the last month or so we have taken on a manager and a publicist, and are looking to tour interstate at the end of the year. I am very excited about the challenge of taking the business from a money pit (recording is SOOO expensive!!) to a profitable business - at this stage I predict that it will start breaking even in about 12 months, and by the end of the second year we will have recouped all personal investments so far. Time will tell I guess...
So that's how I came to call my blog The Trials & Adventures of an Aussie Rock Chick - not the most catchy name, but hey I'm a musician, not a writer. But I'm looking forward to sharing my adventures with you, and having somewhere not affiliated with the band that I can whinge, bitch, spread viscious rumours, etc etc. Oh, and get excited when something good happens!!
I hope you enjoy - and maybe one day you will be able to say you knew me when...
ARC xo