Personal Blogs

The Last of the Firsts

Mindee JorgensenLeave a comment

Surviving the year after losing the love of my life.

 

 In 3 days it will be the 1 year anniversary of losing my love Manny. It still doesn’t feel real at times. I know part of me is still in shock. This past year is somewhat of a blur. How did I make it this far? A year of counting the days, weeks and months go by.

  It was also a full year of painful firsts. My first Valentines Day without Manny, which was also the day he was cremated. My first 4th of July without him. July 6th was his first heavenly birthday, which we celebrated with a BBQ in his honor. 

 The 1st Halloween without Manny was a bittersweet one; it was also my last Holiday with Elvis. My friend Heidi and I took Elvis trick-or-treating in his stroller. He wasn’t his usual excited self and slept most of the time. Shortly after I had to make the painful decision to put Elvis to sleep peacefully at home. A decision I wasn’t supposed to make alone. 

Elvis lived a full 10 months after Manny passed. This year is a blur but I know those 10 months were focused on loving and caring for Elvis as a single senior dog mom. It was not an easy task, but one that kept me occupied and gave me focus. It forced me out of bed on the hard days, and out into the sun. I took Elvis on park adventures, hikes, and strolls. I made sure his last days were filled with love and adventures.

 Then it was the 1st Thanksgiving without Manny, and the 1st holiday without Elvis. I spent it with Manny’s family, just like I have in years past. I am blessed to still be a part of his family, but it was a hard holiday for us all.

 My first birthday without Manny was November 30th. Manny always went out of his way to make me feel special on my birthday. I missed him so much this day. My birthday last year was the last time I saw his band live, and the last time we played together on stage. 

 Despite the emotions my birthday brought up, it was a wonderful day thanks to my many friends. I seriously could not have made it through this year without the support of my friends. One thing this tragedy has shown me is how many genuine friends I have in my life, and how much they love me.

I traveled to spend Christmas with my family at my sisters house. It helped to be out of LA spending time with my adorable nephews. It was a nice distraction, although I still felt the heartache of his absence.

 I flew back on New Years Eve, and made it back to my apartment at 11pm. I thought I would be alright. That I would be tired from traveling all day (I was) and would just unpack and snuggle with the cats. About 10 minutes to midnight, a huge wave of panic hit me like a ton of bricks. I didn’t want the year to end. It felt like it was putting more distance between me and the time when Manny was alive. I wen’t from saying “Manny passed away this year” to “Manny passed away last year” in the blink of an eye. There was also a touch of survivors guilt, that I lived to see 2024 and he didn’t. 

  We always spent NYE together. More recently, we would spend each NYE at home, and watch our neighborhood go crazy with fireworks at midnight. The sound of the fireworks celebrating the new year was like a punch in the gut that night. At least the fireworks drowned out the sound of my tears.

 The only first left is the first anniversary of his passing. I can’t believe the resiliency it took to survive this year of painful firsts. I don’t think I am strong, I hate when people tell me that. I did what I had to to survive this painful loss, I had no choice. 

 There will be a memorial show for Manny on the anniversary of his passing, January 6th, at The Old Town Pub. His band The Richard Ramirez Beatdown will be playing with Altair on bass, and I will be joining them for a song. We are doing a Dangerously Sleazy song or two as well.

 I appreciate everyone who has been keeping his memory alive this year, and please continue to as the years go by. I know I can never forget him.

The Last Popsicle

Mindee JorgensenLeave a comment

January 5th 2023 Manny walked down to the corner store to grab a beer as he did on so many nights, and came back with popsicles for us. He knows I love sweets and would often surprise me with treats. He ate his popsicle, but I wasn’t hungry and decided to save mine for the next day.

That next day turned out to be one of the worsts days of my life. I was in shock, panicked, distressed, traumatized and heartbroken. My love was gone. I left with Manny’s family to his grandma’s house where Elvis and I stayed, stopping back only to feed the cats. All the while that popsicle was sitting in the freezer.

A week later I returned to the apartment to spend the night in my bed, shower in my shower, and see if staying in the apartment was something I was ready to handle. It still felt comfortable, safe, and like home, but with a big piece missing. My own bed was soothing, despite the immense amount of tears falling on my pillow. I slept on Manny’s side of the bed because the pain of rolling over to him not being where he should be was unbearable.

Aside from sleeping, I had someone with me almost non-stop those first weeks. A rotation of close and caring friends that I am forever grateful for. They forced me to eat, cried with me, fed my pets and took out the trash. I could barely do the most simple of tasks. I was completely helpless and in survival mode, but without the drive to survive.

In my fridge sat the popsicle. The last treat Manny bought for me. A lot of people say they can’t imagine what it is like. Try to picture everything surrounding the person you love and share your life with is over in an instant without warning. No chance to say one more thing, give one more hug and kiss, or look forward to the future together. No more memories to be made, what you had is all you get. You frantically try to collect and store all the memories before they fade, as an excruciating reverse countdown starts. He was alive just yesterday…one week ago…2 weeks…one month…3 months…

That first month I could barely eat any food, let alone a popsicle. The second month it was a reminder of the sweet little things he would do for me. The third month it was some of the only food left in our kitchen that he had purchased. The popsicle “expires” in 2024, although there already seems to be a bit of ice forming on it. It was the final little gift from my love, but I can’t save it forever. People say things like “he would want you to be happy…” Well, I think that he probably would want me to eat the popsicle.

So, somewhere during this unexpected journey of sorrow I decided on a date to eat the popsicle. July 6th 2023. It is both his birthday, and exactly 6 months since his passing. Another milestone in the reverse countdown of grief.

This was when we went to Medieval Times for his Birthday.

The time is almost here. That date is less than a week away and the popsicle is waiting for me. I wonder if anyone else has ever been so emotional over a popsicle? The last few days I have been crying over it. Should I wait longer to eat it? Will I even be able to do it? It feels like a piece of him that is still here will be going away.

This is something I never would have imagined before being faced with this. Attaching enormous emotions and meaning to the smallest things. Saving socks and tooth brushes. Not cleaning that spot on the window that has his handprint on it. Not washing his pillows or the last shirt he wore. Not being able to throw away his shrimp ramen noodles, even though I hate shrimp.

It doesn’t get better with time, it gets different. Life is evolving around my grief but when a wave hits it stings as much as the first day. I am still able to enjoy the things that have always brought me joy- drumming, nature, hiking, music, friends, animals. Somedays I don’t cry at all. Most days I just have one little swell of tears. Somedays my plans are held hostage by the weeping. Today has been one of those days. It was because I looked in the freezer and saw that popsicle, a reminder that the 6 month mark is almost here.

Discussing our relationship. A clip from Dangerously Sleazy being interviewed on “Talking Neat,” a show where we tried fancy whiskeys during the interview. Watch the Full Interview on Youtube.

Maybe I am Overly Sensitive but…

Mindee Jorgensen2 Comments

Not even sure what to call this post. I try to not be too emotional on social media, try not to share too much of the heavy stuff. Obviously, losing Manny has been one of the most painful experiences of my life. I acknowledge the pain and sadness, but mostly try to share positive and uplifting memories. There is no denying though that this has been a tornado of emotions beyond just grief and sadness. I thought I would blog about them, some of these harder emotions and waves/phases of grief. That way if you really want to hear about it, you have to come here and I am not forcing this heaviness upon you in your social media feed.

So, for now I want to start with something that I guess you would say really triggered me. A comment from a stranger that kinda shocked me. On one of my Instagram posts sharing some pictures of Manny and talking about how I miss him a random stranger decided to comment and ask what happened, while also throwing out their own assumption. Total stranger who doesn’t know Manny and doesn’t know me personally. Appears to be a drummer, probably follows me because of that. I do not follow him and no mutual friends.

His comment “Sorry to hear about your loss. He looks very young, as do you! Do you mind me asking what happened? Was he unhappy?”

Ok, so mostly seems supportive, and was polite in his asking, but then the “Was he unhappy” is what really upset me. Not just anger, but a whole flood of emotions.

Why ask what happened and then follow it was “Was he unhappy?” which is basically asking if it was suicide, right? Like why even throw that in there? It’s like you asked what happened but seems like you already painted a picture in your mind. I didn’t even respond.

No, he wasn’t sad and no it wasn’t suicide. BUT…I did lose my mother to suicide and so that comment hit hard and agitated me. I was offended and shocked someone would ask a stranger that. Why would you just assume that anyway? Just because he is young? Why even ask it that way? If it was a suicide loss, how do you think that would make a person feel, being asked that question that way. And if it was a suicide, it is none of your business unless someone decides that they want to share that detail. I don’t think that is a question that should be asked directly to anyone.

BTW depression isn’t just “Sadness” you know. It is more feeling like a burden and hopeless and just a gut wrenching pain that is both physical and mental, and completely reality distorting. It is hiding your pain with a smile and not letting anyone know the depths of torment you feel within your soul.

Yes, I could be overreacting, and I know he meant no harm, probably thought he was being kind and supportive. Just one of those things that has been eating at me since I saw it, and I needed to put it out there.

My opinion is that politely asking how someone passed is fine, but it is up to that person if they want to share those details. Assuming anything, especially if you don’t personally know them, is rude. What do you think?

Rescuing Rosie

Mindee JorgensenLeave a comment

 Rescuing Rosie

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I was out walking our dog Elvis.  Earlier that day I thought I had heard a kitten meowing across the street, but paid no mind to it.  This time I heard it again, but louder and more desperate.  I glanced across the street to a rehab home and some of the residents were standing by the fence.  They saw me looking and yelled to come over, there is a kitten trapped in a bush.

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There is a huge bush just outside the fence.  The residents explained they were not allowed to leave, but had been listening to this kitten crying all day. They asked if I could try to see it.  One resident said she heard it crying the night before.

The bush was thick and gigantic. Probably 7 feet tall 6 feet wide.  It was thorny and I couldn’t reach in.  I could hear the sad cries of the kitten up toward the top.

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I went inside to get a flash light and saw. I told my boyfriend Manny what was up.  He came outside to help too.  We looked hard but couldn’t see the kitten. We could hear her though and she sounded so scared.

The residents handed us some tools through their fence. Garden shears and a shovel.  I had a mini saw.  We trimmed and hacked and spent two hours as the sun started going down, not even able to see her.  We would hack where the sound was, and then the cries would move to the other side.

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As the sun went down, the residents were shining their phone lights to help us, and cheering us on. We were covered in sweat and painful scratches from the thorny bush.

Finally, just as we were going to give up, I got my first glimpse of her! The tiniest little kitten, all black with icy blue eyes reflecting back at me!

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Seeing that kitty gave us hope and we kept cutting.

Around 10pm the residents were called inside, we were tired and defeated. We couldn’t even get close enough to touch her. She could move around in the twisted thorny branches enough to stay out of reach.

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We knew we had to go inside and go to bed at some point.  We brought out a towel, a little bowl of water, and an open packet of our dog’s wet food. We left it where she could reach it and hoped it would get her through the night.

 

We hardly slept. I just kept thinking about her thin tiny body and crusted blue eyes.  I hoped she would make it through the night and we could get her help in the morning.  Manny went and checked on her in the early morning hours and she was still alive, still crying for help.

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The next morning I called the animal shelter.  They took down my name and number and said due to Covid they were short staffed and someone would call me when they were on the way.  We kept trying, and her cries were sounding weaker.

We got a friendly neighbor who loves cats.  We told him what was up and he came out.  With his help, we were able to scare her to a cut area of the bush and I was finally able to get my hand on her!  Manny came over and helped pry the branches apart so I could slide her out of the thorny maze.

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She was thin with crusty eyes and a runny nose, barely the size of a hand.  We fell in love, she needed our help and we decided to keep her.  We couldn’t let her go now.

I got kitten formula and read up on how to care for the tiny kitten. Her eyes were bright blue, and she was still wobbly. We figured she was 3 weeks old.  She weighed less than a pound.  Poor girl had fleas, worms, a cold, and conjunctivitis.

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That evening and for the first few weeks, she was clinging to us like Velcro.  She insisted on sleeping nestled under my chin every night.

 

I took her to the vet a week later and he said she was so small he couldn’t give her any shots or vaccines yet, I had to get her to 2 pounds.

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She is now a healthy and happy 10 week old,  exploding with energy and personality.   We chose the name Rosie.

Her and Elvis are cuddle buddies, but she does get on his nerves sometimes with her bursts of energy.

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I wanted to share her story along with all these cute photos. We didn’t want a cat.  We were not looking for a pet, but sometimes a pet needs you.  She needed help and we were the ones who answered her cries.

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Done is better than Perfect

Mindee JorgensenLeave a comment

Hello 2020!!!

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As the new year and new decade approaches, it seems like a good time to reflect on all that has happened in my life the last 10 years, and to plan for my future. hummm…

I can be very hard on myself, feeling like I am not accomplishing anything. Feeling as thought I am lazy, stagnant and stuck.  My perfectionism gets in the way of me putting out there what I create within my head.  I can be so self critical. I have huge ideas that I never put into motion.  I have stories I never finished writing, and songs I never finished recording.

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If there is one thing I want to change in 2020, it is my creative block. I want to create!  I want to finish my solo album, the songs that have been swirling inside my head for so long, but are never shared with others.  I want to create my own drumming business to where I don’t have to rely on a day job. I want to create a way to reach more people who want to play drums and to give lessons to as many as possible, and create an online drum course to inspire people to use drums to heal and help with stress and anxiety, just as drumming as done for me. I am ready to write a book.  I want to travel the world and earn a good and sustainable income through preforming music.

Despite the self sabotaging feeling that I am not creating or moving fast enough, if I look back on this decade I have actually accomplished many things.  2010-2019 has been the most successful decade of my life I must say, and I have so much more to do.

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I moved to Los Angeles in July of 2009, so I have successfully sustained myself as a resident of Los Angeles for the last 10 years.  For a gal from Iowa who didn’t know anyone and hardly had any money when I moved here I guess that is something. Sioux City didn’t suck me back lol.

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I have been in a long term relationship with a smart and wonderful guy who keeps me laughing, takes care of me when I need it, supports my goals and dreams, and keeps me in constants awe of his musical abilities.  I get to share a comfortable apartment with my best friend, an adorable senior dog Elvis and hamster named Meatloaf.

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This was also the decade I discovered the wonderful world of hamsters… (RIP- Dizzy, Ashes, Cheddar Bear, Rex, Little Nugs, Blanket, Fiona.)  If only those adorable hand held teddy bears lived longer…

I became in Aunt to an adorable Nephew named Liam! I got to be a maid of honor in my sister Quinn’s wedding which was an extra special honor for me.

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I got a killer tattoo of a hamster drumming.  I also got a nice car, bass guitar, video camera, and computer.

I had a Podcast called The Hot Box that I did with one of my favorite people in Los Angeles, Mary.

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Musically, this has been my best decade so far.

In the past 10 years I have recorded…

3 EPs!!!

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(Dangerously Sleazy Photo by @whatmariesees)

 

Dangerously Sleazy- Bad Things Just Happen  and Sleep Apnea

 

ModPods- We Are So…

 

2 full length albums!!!

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Azteca Frame’s- Azteca Frame

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ModPods- No Strut

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and played drums on a split 7 inch with Dale Crover Band!

 

On top of playing hundreds of shows in Los Angeles, I toured the country and the world!

2- full US tours

3- West Coast Tours

I toured Europe once, Japan twice, and have been to Canada more times than I can count.

I played live on the radio multiple times.

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I preformed live with 8 different bands, and recorded with 5.

I had the honor of  playing drums for one of my favorite drummer’s solo project, The Dale Crover Band, and  I got to tour opening for 2 legendary bands Melvins and Redd Kross!

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I filmed many music videos.

I got to be in DRUM! magazine.

Tom Tom Magazine

Interviewed on one of the best drumming podcasts around The Trap Set.

I went to NAMM multiple times.

I was featured in a documentary on female drummers Beatkeepers.

I started seriously giving drum lessons and get so excited to see how far my students have come and grown in their drumming. I am blessed to have each one of them and look forward to gaining more students in 2020.  I love teaching drums!

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I received an Associates degree in Journalism without taking out any student loans. DEBIT FREE BABY!! I have also done a good deal of writing, music articles, stories, personal memoirs, ect.

I also started Therapy and took the steps  to confront and heal from trauma and grief, and live a successful life despite depression and anxiety.

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I have made so many great new friends this past decade, from all over the world! I am so grateful to everyone I have met, and also anyone who has supported my musical journey by seeing me play live, listening to my music, following me online, ect. THANK YOU TIMES A MILLION!!

Well…I mostly wrote this to remind myself that I am progressing, I am moving forward in life, I am healing from trauma, I am growing into my best self, and all the positive stuff I am trying to mindfully focus on.  Kinda sentimental about this past decade, it has been a good one.

As always, I am grateful for my top notch health and drumming abilities, my family and friends, the epic experiences I have had, and all the abundance in my life…

 

 

On being me…

Mindee Jorgensen1 Comment

Sometimes…

I wish someone else could feel how I feel. Or that I could somehow explain it in a way that doesn’t sound all sappy or like I am just feeling sorry for myself, or just want attention.

I don’t feel sorry for myself, and I don’t want attention, especially for my horrible feelings.  I rarely ever share them.  I doubt I will even share this writing with anyone.

    I sometimes feel the way I am feeling right now; that I am just a joke to others.  That no one takes me seriously.  That if I didn’t make an effort and reach out to people, no one would ever reach out to me.  That no one really cares or values my feelings, my art and creations, me as a friend, or me as a human being.

   I feel like if any other human went through what I went through and told the story, that people would care. That people would respect their battle, understand it was hell and wasn’t their fault, that people would listen and validate their grief and trauma.

   I sometimes feel like when I tell people, they are annoyed, they didn’t want to know that, I should keep it to myself, how dare I ruin their day with such a depressing story, I doubt it’s even true.

   Below is something that I wrote a while back, but didn’t have the courage to actually share with anyone.  I wrote this on one of those days when a celebrity died by suicide and suddenly, for about a week, every one was posting about reaching out, be there for people, ect.  Sometimes it hurts even more that few people regularly reach out to me.

This is probably triggering…

   I am having a hard time and I need to just talk about shit and get it out today…but in my life there is no one who I feel I can really open up to.

   This is what I wish I had the courage to say to everyone…

   I don’t want to live with pain, grief, guilt, ptsd….no one does. I am actively trying to recover and resolve as much pain as I can and now that I have health insurance and can actually afford go to therapy, I have been.  I spend so much time and energy just trying to “be ok.”  I work really hard, take care of myself, do yoga, try to meditate, take medicine, occassionally battle through the PTSD, I make such an effort to not go down a bad path, be addicted to drugs, numb my pain with alcohol, ect…I really do as much as I can to be happy and not let this get to me. But sometimes it does. I mean, how the fuck would it not?

   Going to therapy is the 1st time I have fully told all the shit I went through to another person, and had someone tell me it is ok to cry, and that the emotions I feel are valid. Damn I needed to hear that. Growing up I got yelled at and shamed for crying…for having any feelings about this really. “Bottle it up, be strong, you can’t talk about that,” were what I was told as a kid. I better not burden anyone with hearing the shit I went though, and have now felt for 30 years.

Well….what is an even bigger burden than having to hear about what I went though….is actually going through it!!! And feeling like you don’t have ANYONE to talk to about it, especially as a child. For feeling completely isolated and alone in this your whole life.

That my family thinks I turned out great and they are “So happy that your happy.” Not being aware that just because things appear to be “going good” and you work hard and are kind of successful, that you must be completely fine and happy all the time and have such a great life.

My step mother, growing up she always had stuff to say to me though. Not until recently in therapy did I realize how emotionally abusive she really was. I was too mentally fucked from the age of four to even comprehend how much I was bullied BY A GROWN ADULT from the age six.

Growing up she would pick on me, and was manipulative and used what I went through to hurt and control me.

I lost my mom to suicide at 4. Stepmother entered my life at 6.

She, an adult woman, would tell me (starting at 6, a mere 2 years later,) things like…

“Quit crying, you don’t even miss your mom, your just a selfish brat.”

“If I was your mother I would have killed myself too.”

“Your so annoying no wonder your moms dead.”

And she constantly called me…a child…a manipulative liar, and that I had no emotions and no one should feel bad for me because I was a brat who deserved it.

Really I was a depressed child acting out… because I found my mom DEAD!! Because I knew from age 4 that my mother killed herself.  Because that day I also lost my home, toys, bed…everything. I lost it all in one shitty day. At age 4.

What the fuck is a kid gonna do? I had mood swings, I cried a lot, I was an angry and disgruntled child. I felt guilt, shame, anger, the full responsibility of her death, abandonment, grief, pain, shock…every horrible emotion you could think of…even some I still don’t have words for.

So yeah, I guess I’m sorry that trip to Disneyland didn’t magically solve all my problems, and from then on I got to hear about how I was an unappreciative little brat.

And It was pounded into my brain that I shouldn’t have emotions…I was just feeling sorry for myself, it was wrong to feel the way I felt, I should not tell people because it will just bum them out.

As a teenager struggling with depression, I asked to go to therapy. “There is nothing wrong with you, you just want attention,” was the exact words she told me. I felt guilty for wanting help and having pain.

The situation with my stepmother is very awkward.  I do have love and appreciation for her, she met my needs for food, shelter, ect.  She was not always mean, and was supportive and kind at times.  Then, when she was in a bad mood, I just felt like her emotional punching bag.  She spoke words to me that really tore me apart inside. 

And now here I am 30 years later, making a real effort to heal all this shit. I am very guilty of keeping it to myself, of pretending “I’m fine” “I’m OK”…yeah. I don’t reach out, I rarely ask for help or a friend to listen to my issues because I know it is hard to swallow.

BUT…it is also hard to live with, and that is what I do, every single day!

I guess since there were some celebrity suicides recently people are now talking about this for a week or two…posting things like “Reach out if your having trouble.”

You know what…it is the hardest to reach out when your having the most trouble. That is the sad truth of it all.

It’s because we are taught to “Be strong,” that our sad emotions are wrong and frowned upon by society. And so when we are feeling such deep pain and grief, we keep it to ourselves as to not burden others with it.

People are also saying to reach out to those who may be having trouble.

HELLO FRIENDS, I’M RIGHT HERE!!!

I know my friends that know me well know I went through this.

I am probably one of the saddest people you know. I am probably one of the most depressed people you know. Yes, they are 2 different things, and I feel them both so deeply, and fight the shit out of them. And I have done it alone for 30 years.

I have PTSD. I didn’t even realize or think that was something I had….it’s for other people, not me, I’m strong.  I am trying to admit it so I can better heal from it.

It’s like having to carry around a heavy monster on your back and randomly, not always and not predictable,  when someone mentions suicide, or brings up your mother, or references to you as if your mother is alive (Your mother must be so proud of you is probably the worst,) that monster punches you in the stomache as hard as he can.

Or that feeling you get when your almost in a car accident. It takes a while to go away too, even though your rational brain knows there is no real threat. I can’t always control these feelings.

I CAN control my responses, and asides from feeling like I put out this blast of awkward energy, I am good about appearing calm and you probably would not even know my heart rate just doubled, it hurts to breath, and my body is in high defense mode.

So yeah…the days when it is all over the news, are sometimes hard for me. It is also kinda hard when I feel like my close friends should know I went through and deal with this, but few reach out.

I guess that is my fault for being too strong, for hiding my pain so well, for being too successful, for not reaching out myself.

I am trying to admit I have trouble, and am not always “OK.” It should be alright to say your not doing well when your not doing well, right?

I guess when you find yourself wanting to be the person to reach out to someone…remember that have the burden of a well of painful emotions and my main outlet is beating the hell out of drums as hard as I can and as often as I can.

The more I talk the easier it gets, and I have gone a very long time without much talking. So someone offering to listen to my issues without judging my pain is always a very welcomed jesture.

If you are a friend who knows and has listened before, or wrote me just to say hello and ask how I’m doing….know that I remember and really appreciate it, and it means so much to me. Thank you.

Mindee Jorgensen 2018 Life Update

Mindee JorgensenLeave a comment

Well….trying to update this website/blog I started forever ago. I thought it would be nice to have a place with links to all of my many projects and creative endeavors. Also…maybe share my real thoughts that I usually think no one wants to hear. Who knows, maybe someone does want to know the random things that go on in my head. Warning- It can be a scary place, lol. DEPRESSION!!! But I am not depressed all the time, or I do a pretty good job of managing it. I have to do a lot of self care. Get good sleep, exercise, yoga, meditation, positive affirmations, good diet, writing, DRUMMING, ect. I do pretty good job taking care of myself and am very independent.

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I currently have 3 bands I am active with; Dangerously Sleazy, ModPods, The Dale Crover Band. That last one there kinda blows my mind. I somehow lucked out/ worked hard enough to be playing drums in one of my favorite drummer’s bands.

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ModPods recently went on tour opening for Melvins!! That…was…amazing! I never would of guessed I would get to meet, let alone tour with one of my favorite bands. Yes, we sound nothing like them, but it worked out well. It was very fun, and as far as my touring experiences have gone, very comfortable. I didn’t get a cold or illness, I slept in a bed every night, I ate healthy food, I only had 2 nights where I got less than 6 hours sleep. We got to drive through the Canadian Rockies which was a mind blowing, beautiful, peaceful, zen experience. I am glad I got to share it with 2 of my best friends in Los Angeles, Daniel and Myriad. Slowly working on my solo project. My perfectionism and self doubt are making that take a long time…

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Also, Manny’s dog Elvis has come to live with us, so it is super nice to have a cute furry little senior pup to hang out with. It is my first time living with a dog, and I am learning a lot. Not used to something being so dependent on me for survival. He is adorable though and I am getting used to picking up dog poop, which until now was one main reason I was apprehensive about getting a dog.

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I am also an aunt!! I have this adorable little nephew named Liam. He is about to turn 6, and lives with my sister and her husband in Virginia. Manny and I have gone to visit them, and it was a really fun trip. Brother-in-law works at the Pentagon, so we got to wander around that famous place late at night, as well as check out Washington DC. That trip was one week before Trump took office. They were already lining the streets with an over abundance of porta-potties. I swear, after seeing the pics of his “huge” inauguration, I think the ratio was 2 porta-potties for every 1 person who actually went to that shit show.