<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4063716734268166629</id><updated>2012-02-16T06:02:01.984-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hands Up Tight</title><subtitle type='html'>Neurotic ramblings from a onetime wannabe rock star, now juggling a home, family, and violin students while struggling to find time to sing and play with her band.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://handsuptight.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4063716734268166629/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://handsuptight.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>sloejoe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14502108325185631661</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>13</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4063716734268166629.post-1434157070068536383</id><published>2009-07-25T20:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T00:08:55.193-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Back again</title><content type='html'>It's been so long since I posted anything here that I forgot my password and had to reset it. You can blame Facebook for stealing my egocentric musings for the past year and a half!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;BAND UPDATE&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We finally did decide on the name "iglu" (with umlaut. Someone please tell me how to make one on the computer!) and started recording in Spring of 2008. We had one session in our venerable friend Terry's recording studio, and then Mikel and I were supposed to continue working on it at home. Mikel did make some headway, but between technical difficulties, lack of momentum/motivation, and boring excuses that come with being working parents, we ended up taking an unintended break. Spring 2009, we were all ready to regroup, but nagging cold symptoms kept me out of the studio. Finally, I recorded the lead vocals for 3 songs earlier this month at Terry's, and we are all excited to be making some progress at last.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I DON'T EVEN LIKE STEVIE NICKS, REALLY&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not that it's smooth sailing...recording vocals was TOUGH. I guess I had never really heard myself sing through headphones. It's like looking at your zits through a microscope. (Is that a cliche or did I make it up?) I'd always claimed, rather proudly, that playing violin gave me an impeccable ear for pitch. Wrong! OTHER people's pitch, not my own, apparently. (In IBOPA I was always pleading with James to fucking tune his guitar. At the time, I couldn't understand that out-of-tune guitar was part of the indie sound that would later make him a cult superstar in Xiu Xiu.) (Unfortunately, I have no interest in being an out-of-tune cult superstar indie singer.  Otherwise, this process might be easier.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there was the whole issue of trying to relax and sound like a badass. These are things I've never been particularly good at doing in life in general, let alone in a recording studio while paying by the hour, while also trying to sing in tune and remember the goddamned words. Rum (session one) and whiskey (session two) were helpful, but what I really realized was that "Oh yeah, I've never really done this before. I should have spent all last year practicing!" Doh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, Terry and my band mates have been nothing but supportive and encouraging. Terry is a master of diplomacy ("Oh no, it's not atypical for a singer to spend the whole session recording one song") and it was surprisingly comforting to have Mikel and John there- as long as the curtain was drawn and they couldn't see the Stevie Nicks stuff I was doing with my hands. Hey, whatever it takes to get the diva on, right? When you're no longer rockstar skinny, your entire wardrobe is from Target (and not from the hipster SKINNY teen dept), and it's too hot to let down your hair, you need Stevie Nicks hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my job for the next few weeks is to RECORD MYSELF singing and drag myself through the mud BEFORE returning to the studio. Meanwhile, I'm listening to some kick-ass chick singers like the woman in the Kills (new project with Jack White: Dead Weather. ROCKS!) and hoping to glean some of their collective mojo. I will say that after having been in the studio a few times I have a new respect for singers- even the teenybopper pop stars.  Maybe some of them are too doped up and computer-edited to even care what they sound like, but it's still hard work!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"YOU are in a BAND?!"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems like just when I'm ready to throw in the towel and just be a plain ol' mom who teaches violin, I get sucked back in to the music.  I'm 40, totally out of it when it comes to today's music scene, precoccupied with one precious little 4-yr old boy and 30 violin students, hopelessly incompetent at managing my home and life, maintain a style-deprived low maintenance appearance, and -get this- I'M THE LEAD SINGER IN A BAND! (Add laugh track here.) When I told a fellow mom at swim lessons last month that I was in a band, she practically fell into the pool.  I guess I'm not very convincing as a diva when in Mommy Mode (and without my Stevie Nicks hands).  I'm just now realizing that most of my friends that I see on a regular basis are other moms who have only seen me onstage at my students' violin recitals.  They've never seen me with purple hair, dressed like a tartlet, playing my electric fiddle between a guy's legs.  I guess it has been a few years...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a few months ago, when I thought this project was dead and not about to be resuscitated, I had a long discussion with my friend Michelle, a former KFJC DJ who is currently a stay at home mom.  We decided that we didn't need our creative outlets so much any more, now that we had both done the ultimate creative task: creating and fostering new life.  What the hell did I need a band for anymore, now that I had my little Frankenstein monster to pour all of my creative energies into? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, here I am, trying to muster up enough energy and confidence to sing my own songs amidst home renovation headaches and summer camp carpooling.  I experienced this flip-floppery years ago with my violin, which I tried to leave behind when I went to the other side of the globe for my coming-of-age adventure. Weeks later I begged my mom to bring it to me.  By the end of my sojourn, I had decided to give up normalcy in pursuit of art. Once a musician, always a musician.  Like ex sex maybe?  (I wouldn't know- unlike the violin, I actually did manage to leave my exes behind in other countries.) Probably healthier, if I can manage to not get too neurotic about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4063716734268166629-1434157070068536383?l=handsuptight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://handsuptight.blogspot.com/feeds/1434157070068536383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4063716734268166629&amp;postID=1434157070068536383' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4063716734268166629/posts/default/1434157070068536383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4063716734268166629/posts/default/1434157070068536383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://handsuptight.blogspot.com/2009/07/im-back.html' title='Back again'/><author><name>sloejoe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14502108325185631661</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4063716734268166629.post-2984067750278040712</id><published>2008-02-02T20:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-02T21:04:36.106-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Iglue?</title><content type='html'>Finally, a viable band name.  We're still trying to decide the spelling, but it'll probably be either Iglue or Iglu with an umlaut (the two little dots, over the u).  Igloo already exists and they're pretty good- check them out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're getting geared up to actually record an album.  I'm excited- the potential for making something really interesting is intriguing.  Mikel (hubby and baritone guitarist in the band) is a genius when it comes to anything musically technological and he'll be piloting the recording.  We'll have the freedom to try some new ideas and play around with them on our own without worrying about paying an engineer by the minute or having a producer wig things out the "wrong" way.  Of course, there's always the potential for disagreements here, but luckily we're all old and not as feisty as we were in our 20's- so I think we'll just have fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just found another long lost friend, a brilliant writer who I've been missing for many years.  Shinichi Suzuki (who changed the music world with his ideas on teaching children) was heavily influenced by his friendships with Einstein and various other folks who had great minds and big hearts.  He suggested that we all try to surround ourselves with those who inspire us to reach for great heights.  Andrew is one of those people, someone I just want to hang out with because I'm a better person around him.  Actually, thinking about it, I could say that about pretty much everyone I spend time with!  Cool!  Anyway, I'm overjoyed to have reconnected with Andrew, as we met when he was working on a book that has since gone on to establish him as an important voice of my generation.  That sounds hyperbolic, but it's true- he's won numerous literary prizes and heaps of critical acclaim for his work, and having read it I can also say it's a masterpiece.  So it was nice to finally be able to congratulate him for the fruits of all of his incredibly hard work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Read it: Catfish and Mandala, by Andrew X. Pham.&lt;br /&gt;His new book is coming out in June.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4063716734268166629-2984067750278040712?l=handsuptight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://handsuptight.blogspot.com/feeds/2984067750278040712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4063716734268166629&amp;postID=2984067750278040712' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4063716734268166629/posts/default/2984067750278040712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4063716734268166629/posts/default/2984067750278040712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://handsuptight.blogspot.com/2008/02/iglue.html' title='Iglue?'/><author><name>sloejoe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14502108325185631661</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4063716734268166629.post-8642359317783024290</id><published>2007-12-13T23:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-13T23:55:55.428-08:00</updated><title type='text'>No blue deuces here</title><content type='html'>Band update: all is well. No one's quit and we've got some new songs. I've been practicing vocal exercises and feel TONS better about my singing. Still no band name. Mikel suggested "Blue Deuces" but it comes from a picture of the sax player's poops after drinking something blue. No one wants to think about that everytime we say our band name....Recording looks eminent- maybe gigs after?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been on a string of searches for old friends. We're talking about people from 20 years ago. It's amazing what the internet can do- I've tracked down a handful, mostly people who were in orchestra with me in high school and college. It's gotten me feeling at least a little down on myself, since my life has had a lot of twists and turns compared to the straight lines that have led people to their PhDs and other prestigious/well-paying careers. Of course, I don't think I'd live my life any differently if I could go back and do it over. But it's still hard not to compare when you're looking at people's lists of glorious achievements, even when they themselves proabably wouldn't think they're very impressive. I'm certainly very happy for them. I just feel like a little kid sometimes when the things I brag about most are playing in rock bands and having been a party girl in Taiwan!  If I only had something to show for it....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess the main thing is, every time I've gotten going in one direction, something happens to change it.  Sometimes it's just me and my lack of motivation, sometimes it's other circumstances like health (carpal tunnel), moving (goodbye, San Francisco and experimental music) or politics (being kicked out of a band).  When I came back from Taiwan 15 years ago, I was ready to shoot like a rocket into the art world and take it by storm.  I just got completely flustered trying to figure out how, and I guess I'm still searching now.  I wish I had the conviction to just go for it, whatever "it" happens to be, and not get bored or disenchanted enough to quit until I get somewhere. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do have my violin teaching, and I'm determined to build up my studio even though it's not the most practical of jobs for this family.  I'm finally good at something and I'm getting recognition for my efforts.  I'm getting a reputation as a good teacher and that means a lot to me.  I just hope I can continue doing it now that I've gotten established.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4063716734268166629-8642359317783024290?l=handsuptight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://handsuptight.blogspot.com/feeds/8642359317783024290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4063716734268166629&amp;postID=8642359317783024290' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4063716734268166629/posts/default/8642359317783024290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4063716734268166629/posts/default/8642359317783024290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://handsuptight.blogspot.com/2007/12/no-blue-deuces-here.html' title='No blue deuces here'/><author><name>sloejoe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14502108325185631661</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4063716734268166629.post-1964643947618987892</id><published>2007-11-23T00:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-23T01:33:18.689-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Turkey Coma</title><content type='html'>It's almost 1am after Thanksgiving, and here I am stuck to the computer as if it will save me from having to clean up the crusty remains of our feast....I suppose I'm escaping from the gratuitious work of the day. Though joyous, not without its share of drama (I'll spare you the details). So here I sit, trying to ignore the fact that tomorrow Oliver will wake up too early and there will not be a hot cup of coffee to be found in the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Band update: There was a bit of a scare with one of the guys possibly wanting to leave the band, but now that he's back on board we're all charged up and ready to go. I'm hoping to do some recording so y'all can listen to what we've been doing for the last 6 months. I'm also desperately trying to come up with a name for the band.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;According to hubby and baritone guitar player Mikel, I have a knack for ridiculously bad band names, though I beg to differ. For years, I've been wanting to have a project called "Planaria", which are the little worms you cut in half in biology class, and each half becomes a new worm. The rest of the band didn't respond to that one, but I don't know if it's because Mikel ridiculed it or it's actually that bad (you decide). "Gui Gui" would've been fun, too- depending on inflection it can mean "Good girl/boy" or "Weird" which is what my mom used to practically spit at me whenever I was trying too hard to be cool in high school. Unfortunately, there's already a band whose name sounds similar, the wildly hip and (to me) mostly unlistenable project of a former bandmate.  The guy doesn't even speak Chinese! The nerve!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And curse the internet- any decent name I do come up with,  is already taken, according to Google. I don't remember many of those except "Camerata" (Mikel: too uppity) and "Three Doors Down" (how was I to know that's a band that's actually getting airplay and doing military commercials?) Without a name I feel that we do not truly exist. If you come up with any good ideas, let me know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4063716734268166629-1964643947618987892?l=handsuptight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://handsuptight.blogspot.com/feeds/1964643947618987892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4063716734268166629&amp;postID=1964643947618987892' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4063716734268166629/posts/default/1964643947618987892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4063716734268166629/posts/default/1964643947618987892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://handsuptight.blogspot.com/2007/11/turkey-coma.html' title='Turkey Coma'/><author><name>sloejoe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14502108325185631661</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4063716734268166629.post-3091104801661946702</id><published>2007-10-10T22:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-10T22:55:42.613-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm back</title><content type='html'>Well, after deciding I was only going to write blogs NOT describing my frustration at not having enough time for my music, I've had nothing to say for awhile! I'm glad to finally report that things have gotten easier at last! The house is getting better organized, my teaching is going smoothly(I'm on my 2nd round of parent education and it's easy this time), 3 year old Oliver's doing well in preschool, and I'm devoting a little more time to the band, which is plugging along. We still have no name (submit your ideas, please!) but we've got about 8 original songs now, that actually sound pretty good. I'm getting more comfortable writing and experimenting with my voice, too. All in all, things are good!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4063716734268166629-3091104801661946702?l=handsuptight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://handsuptight.blogspot.com/feeds/3091104801661946702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4063716734268166629&amp;postID=3091104801661946702' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4063716734268166629/posts/default/3091104801661946702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4063716734268166629/posts/default/3091104801661946702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://handsuptight.blogspot.com/2007/10/im-back.html' title='I&apos;m back'/><author><name>sloejoe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14502108325185631661</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4063716734268166629.post-6013822890617762093</id><published>2007-07-24T13:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-24T14:42:07.760-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The highly sensitive violin teacher</title><content type='html'>I haven't slept much in the last week.  My cursed perfectionism makes simple tasks impossible....something that I allot a few minutes for inevitably drags on for hours.  Anyway, I should be napping now (cancelled appointment!  Wow, what do I do with this unexpected free time? Sleep?) but I'm moved to write.  (Oh well, maybe later.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I recently started teaching a parent training course for parents whose kids will be studying Suzuki violin with me.  I've been trying to expand my teaching studio now that Oliver is in preschool. I love teaching,  and we could use the $$.  So I've recruited a group of parents to do the course together.  In the past I only had one or two parents at a time, and we used a textbook that I thought could be better.  So I revamped everything and started afresh with more lecture content, to be delivered by a nervous yours truly to 5 eager new parents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was day 2 of the class.  I have 3 moms, a grandma and a dad in attendance.  Before the first class I stayed up half the night to prepare, and had stomach problems that morning.  But it went well, and I was relieved to see that no one ran off screaming.  In fact, this morning EVERYONE got here early and they were all waiting politely in their parked cars as not to disturb me before it was time.  I was again really nervous and felt inadequately prepared to enlighten these intelligent folks about working with their kids.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In case you didn't know, I love working with kids and have done a lot of performing in my life, but HATE public speaking in front of adults.  I'd survived the first class, as it was more of a "getting to know each other" time and I didn't have to actually impart that much wisdom.  But for the second class I actually had planned 30 minutes of lecture, and the topic was important enough to warrant printing out outlines for parent to take notes.  So would I be able to deliver $70/hour worth of useful and insightful information?  Did I do enough preparation, or should I have spent hours doing more, picking apart the topics, infusing them with better analogies, others' brilliant quotes, touching anecdotes, and putting them back together? Once again my stomach answered a weak, "maybe".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, luckily for me I have a very friendly group of parents.  Feeling relaxed, I was able to plunge into the topics I had prepared, and I found that I actually KNOW what I'm talking about!  Hello!  I've only been doing this for 10 years!  Not only do I know the stuff, I can actually explain it with conviction and give examples that I didn't even think about beforehand.  And everyone, even the intimidatingly quiet dad, found my words important enough to take notes.  Only when I had sudden episodes of self-consciousness (was it Fred Flinstone who had a little nemesis follow him around and undermine his confidence?) did I falter and have to scramble for words. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess part of this experience is realizing that yes, I should do my lecture prep farther ahead than a day before....but that even when I'm halfway flying by the seat of my pants, I can actually do a pretty good job when I'm not putting myself down and doubting my abilities.   Exactly the sort of thing I'm trying to teach my students....and my son.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oliver has been having some confidence issues himself, lately- "I can't" has become a common phrase for him.  This saddens me, and we've been encouraging him to not give up on difficult tasks.  I wonder if he's getting some of it from my attitude about myself?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reading "The Highly Sensitive Child" (Elaine Aron, EXCELLENT book.  She also has 2 others for adults who are highly sensitive), I realize that a lot of my self-esteem issues stem from my being highly sensitive in a world that doesn't value my traits.  My mom (bless her heart, she did her best with me) was constantly frustrated by my slow pace of life, shyness, hesitation with anything new, and pickiness in general.  I see her impatiently huffing at my dad for the same reasons.  (High sensitivity, according to this book, is inborn and genetic, affecting 20% of the population.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I sometimes forget is that Mikel is highly sensitive as well.  We bicker constantly, and I tend to accuse him of meanness, of being inconsiderate of my needs, etc.  Now that I'm re-reading this info about "HSP"s, I feel like a real heel for some of my less-than-angelic behavior.  I've been discounting his seemingly silly requests to help make the world less uncomfortable for him, but getting mad if I perceive he's doing the same to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Between the band and this book, I think we're on our way to a stronger and happier marriage.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4063716734268166629-6013822890617762093?l=handsuptight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://handsuptight.blogspot.com/feeds/6013822890617762093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4063716734268166629&amp;postID=6013822890617762093' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4063716734268166629/posts/default/6013822890617762093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4063716734268166629/posts/default/6013822890617762093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://handsuptight.blogspot.com/2007/07/highly-sensitive-violin-teacher.html' title='The highly sensitive violin teacher'/><author><name>sloejoe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14502108325185631661</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4063716734268166629.post-4415119460492590329</id><published>2007-07-21T01:17:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-21T01:20:24.971-07:00</updated><title type='text'>PLEASE comment!</title><content type='html'>I have no idea if anyone at all's reading any of these posts, so please feel free to say hello by clicking the "0 comments" at the bottom of the post, and let me know just who's reading these!&lt;br /&gt;Thanks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4063716734268166629-4415119460492590329?l=handsuptight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://handsuptight.blogspot.com/feeds/4415119460492590329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4063716734268166629&amp;postID=4415119460492590329' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4063716734268166629/posts/default/4415119460492590329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4063716734268166629/posts/default/4415119460492590329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://handsuptight.blogspot.com/2007/07/please-comment.html' title='PLEASE comment!'/><author><name>sloejoe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14502108325185631661</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4063716734268166629.post-3665253935729425388</id><published>2007-07-19T22:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-21T02:02:03.113-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bear rules</title><content type='html'>I LOVE that guy from "Man vs. Wild". He eats pirahnas that he caught with a bow and arrow he made in the jungle, pees on a shirt and puts it on his head when dehyrated in the desert, tries (and fails) to ride a wild horse in the middle of nowhere....and explains everything he does in detail and matter-of-factly, with a British accent to boot. How sexy is that?! &lt;a href="http://dsc.discovery.com/fansites/manvswild/manvswild.html"&gt;http://dsc.discovery.com/fansites/manvswild/manvswild.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I thought I should write about something other than my time management issues.... Things have been going okay lately, but I feel like I should be writing about the band, and all I really have to say is the same stuff I said already- I love those guys, we're making some cool sounds, I wish I had more time to work on the songs....nothing new, really. I suppose this blog doesn't have to be about the band at all. I guess that's the only thing in my life that I thought would be interesting enough for y'all to read, but it's not like we've got arena gigs and groupies and drugs or anything even close!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I guess I'll just write about whatever, whether it's "interesting" or not....this blog stuff is so weird, having a journal with an intended audience. Do I keep the boring stuff in my notebook offline? And I guess ranting about any of you is off limits, too. :) The only other blogs I've read are Stewart Copeland's (Police drummer's awesome entry, twisted all out of proportion by the press: &lt;a href="http://www.stewartcopeland.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=2809&amp;postdays=0&amp;amp;postorder=asc&amp;start=0"&gt;http://www.stewartcopeland.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=2809&amp;amp;postdays=0&amp;postorder=asc&amp;amp;start=0&lt;/a&gt;), and hubby Mikel's (&lt;a href="http://www.zwiss.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://www.zwiss.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;)- so this is all kind of new territory I'm treading.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4063716734268166629-3665253935729425388?l=handsuptight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://handsuptight.blogspot.com/feeds/3665253935729425388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4063716734268166629&amp;postID=3665253935729425388' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4063716734268166629/posts/default/3665253935729425388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4063716734268166629/posts/default/3665253935729425388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://handsuptight.blogspot.com/2007/07/i-love-that-guy-from-man-vs.html' title='Bear rules'/><author><name>sloejoe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14502108325185631661</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4063716734268166629.post-7060821671137762140</id><published>2007-07-09T22:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-20T14:43:55.698-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Too many Joans</title><content type='html'>Just spent a whole week in Tahoe kicking back with extended family- actually very relaxing, but I was worried I'd lost my mojo when I came back home. It seems that there's only so much room for all my different hats, unless I consciously plan to wear two at a time- There's family Joan, music teacher Joan (and there's two of these) and aspiring creative artiste Joan. Not to mention housekeeper and chef Joan (usually out to lunch) and wifey Joan (hasn't been around much lately, either, I'm afraid). Oh, and I almost forgot friend Joan, gardening Joan, reading Joan, hiker Joan.... they're so rarely in existence at all anymore. I suppose this chaotic balancing act is nothing new for most folks my age, but when I have I ever acted my age?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I need to be obsessed with a project to work on it? Kind of seems that way. In Tahoe, I was fixated on playing a constructive part in the family dynamic, not being the squeaky wheel and pitching in with chores when I could. Nights, I read Suzuki violin teaching books like a religious fanatic, and did my Music Together teaching homework dutifully. Now, at home, it's all about organizing, cleaning and decorating the house, and working on band stuff. I guess my inspiration comes in phases. Doesn't seem that unusual to me. Is it? I guess the thing is that since there's no boss to answer to for any of this stuff, I end up neglecting whatever I'm not all gung ho about- and no matter what that is, someone suffers. Looks like I just have to consciously decide who it's going to be- my son, my husband, my students, my friends? Or me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So much for living my life spontaneously. Maybe that's what you get to do when you're retired-as long as money manager Joan hasn't been asleep at the wheel for too many years! That's okay, I'll just settle for my few minutes of freedom here and there, a reward for planning my time wisely.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4063716734268166629-7060821671137762140?l=handsuptight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://handsuptight.blogspot.com/feeds/7060821671137762140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4063716734268166629&amp;postID=7060821671137762140' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4063716734268166629/posts/default/7060821671137762140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4063716734268166629/posts/default/7060821671137762140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://handsuptight.blogspot.com/2007/07/just-spent-whole-week-in-tahoe-kicking.html' title='Too many Joans'/><author><name>sloejoe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14502108325185631661</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4063716734268166629.post-5860140302926237858</id><published>2007-06-29T00:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-29T01:04:15.962-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Things to do</title><content type='html'>Brad from my last band had a habit of saying, "I've got nothing but time on my hands".  I'd always stare back at him in amazement, as if no one could possibly be an adult and have spare time.  At the time Ollie was a needy babe, waking me up several times a night and needing mommy all day as well.  I was trying to teach violin lessons, Music Together baby and toddler music classes, be in the band playing the cello (which I don't play) and be mom, wife, friend, daughter, etc. without falling apart. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's much better now that Ollie is more self-sufficient.  But there's still always a million things to be done.  Sometimes I feel like I'm trapped in an unending list of things to do- cleaning, organizing, planning, calling, researching, buying, maintaining, fixing, nurturing, creating, driving....To be Brad, single and with no work he has to take home?  I still daydream about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I managed to squeeze in some more practicing before band practice, and it went pretty well tonight.  This is going to be a LOT of work, but I need to do it.  And somehow, at the same time I will whittle that list down, little by little.  NO FEAR!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4063716734268166629-5860140302926237858?l=handsuptight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://handsuptight.blogspot.com/feeds/5860140302926237858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4063716734268166629&amp;postID=5860140302926237858' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4063716734268166629/posts/default/5860140302926237858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4063716734268166629/posts/default/5860140302926237858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://handsuptight.blogspot.com/2007/06/things-to-do.html' title='Things to do'/><author><name>sloejoe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14502108325185631661</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4063716734268166629.post-6782812593498592370</id><published>2007-06-28T01:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-28T01:21:09.989-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Feeling better</title><content type='html'>Okay, 1am and I got some work done. Not the greatest practicing or writing, but I did it anyway. So much for going to bed early....and Mikel's crashed out on the couch. I'd been hoping to practice with him tonight but it was not to be. He's been bugging me for months- maybe even years- to go to bed with him at 10:30 so that we both get enough sleep and have some time to talk every night. As good as my intentions are, I just can't seem to do it! When would I have time to myself? When would I do my creative work? Surf the net?  Do the dishes? Read? The fact that Ollie doesn't usually fall asleep until after 9 makes it even harder when I have to put him down. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being a grown up is hard.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4063716734268166629-6782812593498592370?l=handsuptight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://handsuptight.blogspot.com/feeds/6782812593498592370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4063716734268166629&amp;postID=6782812593498592370' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4063716734268166629/posts/default/6782812593498592370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4063716734268166629/posts/default/6782812593498592370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://handsuptight.blogspot.com/2007/06/feeling-better.html' title='Feeling better'/><author><name>sloejoe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14502108325185631661</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4063716734268166629.post-496133030213699420</id><published>2007-06-27T23:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-27T23:18:28.405-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Grrrrr.....</title><content type='html'>Okay, so this is not so easy, being mommy/violin teacher/budding rock star.  I guess I thought it would be easier now that Oliver's a little older and mostly sleeping through the night.  It's still a bit hard to find the time to practice, despite my newfound fervor....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I fell asleep putting Ollie to bed, and woke up next to him at 1:30am.  Too late to work on music, as I'd planned.  Then tonite he agreed to go to sleep by himself to earn a "blue doggie" (I sometimes cut shapes for him out of construction paper) and after lying there for 10 minutes talking and singing to himself, he gave up.  This time I emerged at 11 pm.  I'd been hoping to have some time to myself starting, oh, about 2 hours ago.  I'm resentful and a bit scared that I will show up to rehearsal unprepared tomorrow.  I did practice my lyrics in the car today but did some stupid driving as a result.  Maybe I should stop writing this and go practice with the keyboard.  That's the hardest part, playing and remembering what I'm supposed to sing at the same time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention that being in this band is kind of terrifying?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4063716734268166629-496133030213699420?l=handsuptight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://handsuptight.blogspot.com/feeds/496133030213699420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4063716734268166629&amp;postID=496133030213699420' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4063716734268166629/posts/default/496133030213699420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4063716734268166629/posts/default/496133030213699420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://handsuptight.blogspot.com/2007/06/grrrrr.html' title='Grrrrr.....'/><author><name>sloejoe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14502108325185631661</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4063716734268166629.post-7127436440790296960</id><published>2007-06-24T22:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-24T23:49:51.128-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why?</title><content type='html'>My 2 year old would ask, and rightfully so.&lt;br /&gt;I always thought blogs were kind of weird for people like me- nobodies as far as cyberspace is concerned.  Who's vain enough to post their innermost thoughts online and who's bored enough to read them?  Well, I guess me- and you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess the time has come that I am exploding with ideas and have little available audience for them.  Motherhood and the rest of reality sometimes suck that way.  So I guess this is a way to get the demons out and hope that it will satisfy my expressive urges for now.  This is really the last thing I SHOULD be doing right now- I should be sleeping, cleaning, planning, balancing my checkbook...but....well, all I can think of to say is "May the power of Christ compel you!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am suddenly being propelled out of complacency, by love, by desire, by hope.  This band we started, these beautiful people that are so dear to me- we have created something that suddenly has awakened something in me.  A sleeping dragon (benevolent, of course) that I'd forgotten was deep within. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll back up a little.  My dear, disenchanted husband Mikel decided to walk the walk and actually get a band together.  We gave up a date night to work on a tune with our dear genius chordsmith friend Don, and the blood started flowing back into our veins.  (Mikel and I have been unhappily trying to get a life for many years.  Parenthood put smiles on our faces but further reduced our days to endless unfinished tasks and dreams of sleeping.)  A few days ago we got our dream crew together- Don on accordian/keys/brain, eclectic drumbeat John, Kurt on bari sax, Mikel on bass or baritone guitar (which I was inspired to get him for Father's Day after our session with Don).  And me, I got to sing and play on a Wurlitzer keyboard that makes me sound groovy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That rehearsal was incredible- everything just gelled, and an 11 yr old song that I had discarded suddenly came back to life as something beautiful.  We all agreed that it was happenin', and scheduled another rehearsal.  Mikel played me back a recording of the session, and we were awed.  Since then, I've been obsessed-MUST PRACTICE, MUST WRITE.  I'd forgotten how all-consuming it can be to do this.  Not in an unhealthy way, but it just seeps into every part of my life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, suddenly, I finally want to clean the house.  Work out.  Sew those curtains.  Read a book.  Hug my family.  I'm alive again.  Not just going through the motions and being tired for no good reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today we went to a commitment ceremony for one of the most loving, compassionate couples I know- Catherine and Andrea.  I got to play some Klezmer music with 2 wonderful new friends and the whole thing was so heartfelt and real and happy....Yesterday I went to a retirement luncheon for my former Music Together director (where I will be teaching again soon) and the energy was so pure and good, between all of us mom/musician/teacher folk.  Being with all of this goodness just lifted me even higher into the clouds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So watch out, world.  I'm back!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4063716734268166629-7127436440790296960?l=handsuptight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://handsuptight.blogspot.com/feeds/7127436440790296960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4063716734268166629&amp;postID=7127436440790296960' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4063716734268166629/posts/default/7127436440790296960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4063716734268166629/posts/default/7127436440790296960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://handsuptight.blogspot.com/2007/06/why.html' title='Why?'/><author><name>sloejoe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14502108325185631661</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
