Excuse me.

It's been a slow day today, mostly because I don't feel like moving. I often brag about my excellent immune system, but admit that one of my failings is that I will eat ANYTHING. Sometimes that lands me in a situation like this.... I'm not sure what it was that I ate on Friday night that caused this, but it definitely could have been the three plates of cocktail weenies and cheese dip. Or maybe the leftover greens (with bacon) that Caleb fed me for dinner were past their prime. I don't know. But I woke up on Saturday at 7AM feeling pretty iffy, but assuming it was a hangover (though I'd only had a beer and a half and a shot of whiskey the night before). But Caleb and I had a 5k to run, so I shrugged it off and we got dressed in our costumes. We ran the 5k without incident, but I did notice that my stomach was still unsettled. The Mud Run was extra muddy this year, and while a lot of fun, I ended up freezing cold (to the point of pain and joint stiffness) and pulling off muddy leggings in front of who knows because I was so cold and wet I had no ****s to give if someone saw my panties.

Anyway. After a long hot shower, Caleb and I went to Waffle House, where I scarfed down an entire plate of eggs and hashbrowns (thinking my uneasy stomach was due to not eating anything yet). Fast forward a couple hours, after trying to nap through my discomfort. I was sitting around in the bathroom waiting for the inevitable, though I wasn't sure what end it would come from, and suddenly I found myself puking into the bathtub.

You should know that I hate puking. Even if I know that a good puke will make me feel better, I will resist as hard as I can. I. Hate. Puking.

So after my Waffle House was gone, I napped through more stomach cramps and lower back pain, marveling at how I'd managed to run three miles through the mud. I probably slept 17 hours yesterday. Caleb brought me crackers at some point in the night, and those helped. Today is better, and I have no doubt I'll be back to normal by Monday... but I'm still pretty bummed that I missed out on some things this weekend because I was too busy evacuating my bowels.

Now that I've written four paragraphs about food poisoning, here's a quick update on music business.

New Orleans went really well. It was an awesome vacation and I had a crazy amount of fun. We hung out with some locals, I saw an acquaintance from high school by chance (she was a hostess at the restaurant we chose for dinner Friday night) and hung out with her, Caleb and I danced to slow jazz in a speakeasy, I had amazing raw oysters twice, slow cooked duck, red beans and rice, crawfish etouffee, crawfish omelette, boudin balls, beignets from Cafe Du Monde, we drank gin and tonics all Saturday afternoon and played games, and I got paid $3 for an hour of music at a weird coffee shop.

The music portion was sort of up in the air for me for a minute. I showed up and there was no host or owner to greet me and tell me what the **** was going on. The guy who played before me apparently plays there every week, and just took down his equipment and off he went. And I stood there for a second sort of frozen about what I was supposed to damn do. Finally, I looked around for a cable for my guitar, plugged in, and Caleb helped me do a quick sound check. Meanwhile, these crusty old ****s in the corner started grumbling about how I was taking too long and left. I was expecting this place would draw a crowd of its own, but instead, I brought pretty much everyone in the place. It was so unprofessional, and I knew I was only getting paid in tips (but when I'd booked the thing, I figured there would actually BE some mother****ers in there who would tip), so my emotions were running pretty high for a moment.

Caleb noticed, and came up to play a drum with me. That helped. And I realized that what I was most worried about and not in control of was my friends/acquaintances having a good time and not thinking this was totally lame. After I finished playing, those fears were put to rest and I sold one CD. I decided that I did have control over my ego and that I could let that go for the night. The barista wrote me a note, and one of the regulars played piano for a while while Quinn (friend and travel buddy) played my guitar.

It was a good trip, and I'd like to do that again... but next time, I'll be more certain about my venue.

In other news, I'll be playing at The Ozark Folk Festival in Eureka Springs next weekend! I entered a songwriting contest, and I'm one of the six finalists. That means that I'll play a 15 minute set in front of a crowd and judges on Saturday at noon. I could not be more excited. When I got the email, I nearly cried. And while it would be nice to win, I'm just so happy to play at a festival, I don't much care!

As for food, I'm about ready to post my pumpkin hazelnut soup recipe, but I'd rather do that when thinking about it doesn't make me queasy.

Here are some pictures!

Playing


Spike and Ed. I wish my hair showed up more.


Muddy sailors (this is before I puked everywhere)

Overall, I've been having fun, and things have been going well. I'll definitely update after next weekend.