Behold, the return of the deadbeat blogger!

I mean, seriously.  It’s embarrassing.  I have been like an unfit mother – one who leaves her kids in the car while she hits up the Safeway for PBR and tampons.  I have abandoned this blog in the parking lot for far too many days – and in the meantime, not written a single word of ANYTHING.

But really, can you blame me?  I was busy fulfilling MY LIFE DREAM.

If you’ve been reading this site for longer than two minutes, you’ll know that I’m a songwriter, and that the jewel of my heart (um, yes, I just called it “the jewel of my heart” – so?) is the Bluebird Café.  Back in October, when I was invited to play there (can we all just squeal one more time?), June 21 felt so far away.  But before I knew it, my parents were flying in, Greta was surprising me on my doorstep the day before (listen – can you hear me scream?), I was trying on 96 different outfits, and then, all of a sudden, staring out at the lights.

This is what it looks like when dreams come true.  (Thanks to Deb for the picture!)

And this is what it sounds like.  (Thanks to AnnieBlogs for recording!)

And here are best friends.

And here are just a few of the most wonderful cheerleaders.

And here are amazing parents.

And here is a man with a mullet in a SweetTarts shirt.

Because this is Hootenannie.com – where the blogs end strong.

Before getting roommates this past December, I lived alone for 5 years.  I cannot remember a time that I was ever scared to live by myself.  But last night, I started to wonder… why?

I’m still house-sitting, and when it was close to midnight and I was in bed working on the computer, one of the dogs sat straight up and started growling.  He made his way to the doorway to the hall, and then started barking ferociously.

I knew that someone was in the house.

I knew that he was coming down the hall.

I knew that I should have made Charlton Heston my president.

I sat there frozen as Lucky the dog ran down the hall and out to the living room.  Then everything fell silent.

That’s when I got TERRIFIED.

Because I started hearing whispers – like the smoke monster from “Lost.”  So not only is there someone in the house, but he is a Jedi of canines, and is putting Lucky into a trance, and if he can do that to a yellow Lab, then what can he do to me?  I’m going to wind up with a tracking device injected into my neck, brainwashed, telling people that my name is Kiki Van Alsteen and assassinating foreign officials.

But instead of finding myself a weapon and going on a man-hunt, I told myself that I was crazy, and turned out the light.  And fell asleep completely petrified – like, blankets-pulled-up-to-my-chin, eyes-squeezed-shut, peeing-my-pants scared.

Can you say “avoidance”?

This morning, I forgot that I had to go to work.  I was in the middle of a dream that Taylor Swift was holding her CD release party at my old Music Row apartment, and thousands of people were lined up on the sidewalk outside my home (I was going to make them take off their shoes at the door).  My alarm kept going off, but I guess that I kept snoozing, because when the dream reached a crescendo and the other Annie had won a lunch at P.F. Changs with Taylor Swift herself, I was already a half an hour late for work.

But none of that is important.  Behold!  Today, I have a video.

Warning: I may have discovered sound effects.

I know.  Get excited.

Productivity and Boredom from Annie Parsons on Vimeo.

Over the weekend, I dreamed that I was on an “American Idol” style reality show.  I was one of the final two contestants, and I was sweating bullets – which is awkward when one is wearing an evening gown.

The moment of truth came.  The host made the announcement:

“And the winner is… ANNIE PARSONS!”

The crowd went wild.  I crumpled into a heap on the stage.  I was out of control.  I was crying and screaming and so ecstatic, I couldn’t contain myself.

Because I had just won a 4-year residency at Vanderbilt Medical School.

**UPDATE**

Straight from my fortune cookie today at lunch:

In dreams and in life, nothing is impossible.

Oh, really?

Sometimes, someone you’ve never met can give you the biggest gift.

Kristy Behrs of Wreckless Photography has been a second soul to me. She lives far, far away in California, and although we’ve never met face to face, I feel that we have a bond – an understanding – a trippy connection that bridges the distance. I am continually in awe of her eye, her sensitivity, and her genuine spirit. She recently solicited the ideas of friends and strangers and admirers to spark her creativity; she got some fabulous suggestions and challenges (definitely read through them!) and, with eyes wide open, has been on a hunt.

I’m honored to be first.

Last night, I dreamed that I was in a bridesmaid dress – a long, flowing, strapless sage gown.  My hair was lovely, my makeup perfect, and I felt pretty.

Except – oh no! – there was a war going on.  With bullets flying everywhere, I ran through a very chaotic Wal-Mart – only to take a shot to the abdomen.  My little sister (who was neither Becca nor Sarah) walked me to the bathroom, and I caught a glimpse of myself in the full-length mirror: terrified, disheveled, and blood-soaked.

Good morning!

Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

If everything were up to me, I tell you what I’d do:
I’d always have a good hair day and never have the flu.
I’d sleep in ’til whenever and I’d stay up ’til it’s late,
My bank account would overflow and then I’d celebrate.
I’d eat whate’er I wanted and I’d never gain a pound,
And since red wine would not stain teeth I’d never have to frown.
My temp job of a year would not turn out to be a tease,
The boss man would not tell me that they’re in a hiring freeze.
My family and my friends alike would live in the same place,
We’d see each other often but we’d still maintain our space.
I’d find a boy who loves me who would lift my heavy bags,
But I don’t want a man that I can tranquilize and tag;
For I am strong and I am not afraid to take a chance,
But I don’t want to be the one who has to wear the pants.
Some coffee in the morning, conversation late at night,
And in between, I’d write and write and write and write and write.
I’d grow in truth and knowledge as I walked from year to year,
The love of God would feed my faith and starve away my fear.
The sun would shine when I was glad and hide when I was glum,
And everyone would know that without ME it’s just AWESO.

(A word of caution:
Prepare yourself not for art, or beauty, or wisdom, or humor, or insight…
but simply for an explosion of my heart.)

Remember this mysterious, ambiguous entry?

I received an email this morning:

Annie,
Congratulations! You’ve passed our audition process…

And on June 21, 2009, I’ll be fulfilling one of my biggest dreams and playing at the Bluebird Café.

SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!! YOU GUYS!!!!!!!!!!!

I am completely speechless.

I wish I could say that I rocked my audition, but… I didn’t. No, really – I DIDN’T. I was certain – sure – POSITIVE – that I wasn’t going to make it. I have never felt nerves like I felt that day; I could barely play my guitar, which is bad since I can barely play my guitar ANYWAY. I messed up the words to my song. I was freezing cold. I was shaking so badly that I couldn’t think straight. I have been nervous before, but have always been able to reason myself out of it. This time, I was completely out of control – no amount of self-talk or deep breathing or sheer force of will could calm me down.

I never in a million years expected to have made the cut. To some one else, this might not feel like a big deal. To me, it’s an answer. It’s confirmation. It’s hope. It’s the entire world.

I cannot believe it.

Dream your dreams, kids.

It is impossible to be courageous without first being afraid.

It is impossible to be courageous without first deciding that you are willing to fail.

It is impossible to be courageous without first accepting the possibility that your very best efforts might truly prove you to be inadequate and out of your league.

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But it is also impossible to fulfill your potential without being courageous.

And should your fears be confirmed with nothing short of a swan dive into glorious failure, then you gain the freedom and liberation of knowing that it’s okay to be insufficient on your own – for the strength of One much larger than yourself is made perfect in your weakness.

So take a chance. I know that I’m about to.

It’s hard to believe – impossible to believe – but one year ago today I moved away from Seattle. I just went back and re-read the entry I wrote that day, and it remains one of the most honest things I have ever written; it hits at a deep place, even 365 days later… excuse me – 366. It was a Leap Year.

When I left, I didn’t have a real sense of how long I would be gone, but at my core, I hoped that it would be less than a year. You know: go find myself, get it over with already, and then quickly head home – preferably to get married and buy a house and have babies. The past year has exposed the extent to which I have desired the American Dream – I didn’t realize how much I wanted it until I willingly chose such a solo and unstable lifestyle. In my discomfort, I have longed for comfort. In my confusion, I have longed for clarity. In my chaos, I have longed for calm.

In my anonymity, I have longed to be known.

Moving is, if nothing else, very lonely.

But the past year has also taught me that life is not a checklist; it cannot be a checklist. I cannot look at my circumstances and think, “Once I get this-and-that,” or “When I achieve such-and-so,” I will be one step closer to success, wholeness, and legitimacy. I cannot expect that the American Dream is going to make me happy, because honestly, I am watching it fall flat for people all around me. A home does not equal stability. Money does not equal contentment. And most tragically, love does not necessarily equal forever.

I still hope for these things. In my most honest moments, I have a deep desire for a good and honorable man to share my life with – one whom I will love wholeheartedly and unequivocally. I want babies of my own. I want family vacations and birthday parties and a Bernese Mountain Dog and all of the wonderful goods damnably reserved for wedding registrations. I want a car with keyless entry and a house with a walk-in closet.

Maybe these things are in the cards for me. Maybe not.

But more than anything, I want to walk the road intended for me. And right now, that road continues here in Nashville. It’s all that I have, and it’s all that I am, and despite all feelings to the contrary, I am never alone.

I am leaving a green house where marijuana is being grown. It is dark outside. I am by the ocean. All of a sudden, from out of nowhere, I am attacked by a bison. At first, I think it is a buffalo. But as I yell, “I am being attacked by a buffalo!” some unknown voice responds, “It is not a buffalo – it is a bison.”

I am sitting on my red couch, staring straight ahead. Suddenly, earwigs come pouring out from under the couch cushions. They engulf my body. I scream.

I am in a corn field, running from a predator. At first, I don’t know who my enemy is, but eventually, I find that my pursuer is a psychopath who has painted his face chalky white. He jumps out from behind corn stalks, jazz hands raised, and yells, “AAAAGH!” in my face. I am terrified. But then, someone yells, “Cut!” and I realize that I am in a movie called “Something Whitey This Way Comes.”

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And now, as promised, another Weekend Update. My thoughts upon watching this video: “I should never speak extemporaneously on camera. I say um and so a lot. My nose is big. No it’s not, Annie. It’s handsome. Okay. It’s handsome. Why am I putting this on the internet? I don’t know. To keep people’s expectations of my cool factor in check? Yep. That’s why.”

Weekend Update 2 from Annie Parsons on Vimeo.