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Marijke Jane

Friday, October 9th, 2009

Almost 3 years ago, through the wonders of the internet, I blog-met (it’s a thing, people) a girl named Marijke.  “Muh-RIJ-key?” I wondered.  No.  “Muh-RY-kuh.”  Like “Mariah” with a k.

A fellow blogger, fellow songwriter, fellow dreamer, Marijke has been living in Anchorage, Alaska, for several years.  She has had a steady job, but music is where her heart is – and about a year ago, she came to Nashville to check out the scene.  In what is becoming a regular occurrence in my life, we met face-to-face for the first time when she showed up on my doorstep.*  We spent a weekend exploring the city, hearing live music, and talking about life.  She is a kindred spirit, for sure.


And now, in a brave and gutsy move, Marijke is about to move from Alaska to Texas to pursue music – talk about a change of scenery.

Today, she is releasing a CD.  And from the previews that I’ve heard, this is a GREAT album.  Her voice is pure, her lyrics honest and truthful, and the instrumentation so well done (good job, Jon!  Jon showed up on my doorstep one time, too*).

Would you support her by ordering a copy?  For only $10, you’ll play a part in helping make my friend’s dream possible, as well as get an awesome, quality product.  I’ve ordered it – and I wish that I could be at her release show tonight.  If you live in Anchorage, YOU SHOULD GO!

Thanks, Marijke, for reminding me what it means to live boldly.

– – – – – – – –

*Happening again tonight when Joey and Sam show up!  YES!  Best blog friends forever!

A different kind of highlight

Tuesday, July 7th, 2009

After racing my dad to the top of Mt. Roberts in Juneau on Sunday, I spent some time walking around the town.  Which, of course, led to an interesting encounter – because do I ever elude the interesting encounters?

I met a greasy man on a street corner who took one look at me, and immediately, very excitedly – in one breath – said, “How long are you in town? Do you live here?  I’M A ROCK STAR!”

He proceeded to walk me back to the ship, and claim that he is not only a rock star, but a genius, a friend of the governor, and insane.  I believed him on one account.

After hearing that I live in Nashville, he informed me that he is moving to Nashville, and has a goal of getting a record deal by November 1 (“and by the way, do you think you could set me up with Michael W. Smith?”).  He gave me his phone number and his MySpace address, saying that I could spend “several months” on his MySpace page, there is so much to see.  He talked and talked and talked, spewing out eccentricities and grand statements about life, and without skipping a beat, ended with, “You know what?  Meeting me might be the highlight of your trip.”

I high-fived him, because maybe, dude.

But I’m leaning toward the night when the Parsons walked out onto the front deck of the ship while in open seas, thinking we could get some fun pictures, but not being prepared for the amount of SHEER TERROR the wind would bring, and after all of our dresses had blown up revealing whatever we had underneath, and hitting the deck to avoid being blown over the edge entirely, and Sarah’s driver’s license flying into the Pacific Ocean, and everyone holding hands for stability, and screaming our lungs out, and tears streaking our faces… realizing that the entire navigational crew was watching from their windows above.




No rock star, genius, insane man from Juneau can compete with the involuntary flashing of Polynesian men.

Taking up arms

Sunday, July 5th, 2009

The cruise ship is a battle zone, and I am at war.

I refuse to gain a pound a day.

But this is proving to take some serious combat.

I wake up each morning and put on my armor: a reasonable breakfast of one egg over easy, a small bowl of cereal, and an Americano.  But after that, it is clear to me that the ms Zaandam wants me guillotined.

Their battle cry:
Free food! All day!
Stuff yourself at the buffet!

Over and over.  And over.  And starts again at 11pm.

I am notoriously thrifty, hate to waste anything, and to hear that something is free makes me want to take full advantage.  You mean to tell me that I can order three appetizers, an entrée, AND dessert?  Get down on it, mama.

Thankfully, there is a gym at the front of the ship, and I’ve been running off 19,000 calories every day.  I have also taken on the identity of Elevator Hater, and walk the 8 flights of stairs at least 12 times each day.  In heels.

This is my martyrdom.  Because if you haven’t gorged yourself on mussels, bread, scallops, cheese trays, salmon, filet mignon, cookies, papaya, guacamole, pasta, and hot fudge brownie sundaes, washed it all down with wine and mojitos and margaritas, and then navigated 8 flights of stairs on a swaying ship in a cocktail dress and heels, then I’m sorry, my friend.

You do not know sacrifice.

Enough pomp and circumstance

Friday, July 3rd, 2009

This morning, I woke up in Seattle.

I am about to board a ship dedicated by Mary-Kate and Ashley in the year 2000.

If I get the chance, I will karaoke Huey Lewis and Gwyneth Paltrow’s “Cruisin'” with a stranger – and that is a promise.

Bon voyage!

Moose on the loose

Thursday, July 2nd, 2009

In my opinion, the world’s scariest creature is not a shark, or a bear, or even a naked mole rat.  The one beast that I never hope to meet in a dark alley is a moose.

Moose are some mean mother truckers.

Ever since I read “Hatchet,” and the kid was stranded alone in the Canadian wilderness, and the moose swam up in the lake UNDERNEATH HIM and gored him with his horns, I have been terrified.  This is unfortunate, because tomorrow, I will board a boat bound for the Last Frontier, where people see moose outside of the local Applebees.

But who knows – maybe moose will win me over.

Perhaps if Alison Krauss serenaded the encounter?

(Why does that make me want to laugh so hard?)

Speaking of savage behemoths, I just learned that the state marine animal of Alaska (every state should have one) is the bowhead whale.  This is by far the ugliest beast I have ever seen.

If I don’t return, you can either blame the state of Alaska for death-by-wildlife, or Christopher McCandless for the inspiration to just never come back.  At this point, it’s a toss up.