Well, for those of you who came out on Saturday to Summerfest – thank you.  And I’m sorry.

If you missed it, let’s just say the first 15 minutes of the set were fabulous.  My band for the day, a duo I like to call The Gypsy Bloodsmen, were dead on, the crowd was all energy and smiles, and for once I had a sound guy who actually paid attention during sound check.  It was great.

And then the blue sky turned black, rain started pouring down in waves, and lightning surrounded us.  The show was cut.  Almost an hour later, at 4:15 (when my set was supposed to have been wrapping up), the clouds parted and all was blue and sunny again.

Therefore I have decided that God did not want me to play my kickass new song at Summerfest.  I don’t know why, it’s awesome and there were even going to be backup singers.  But there it is.

Luckily, the next day’s Best of Chick Singer Night show went well, and I’ve got a show coming up at Turner Hall in Milwaukee that everyone who missed Summerfest (or had to run for cover) can attend instead.  The Bloodsmen are going to play again, and Missy Higgins is headlining, so how can you say no?

(Bonus points to anyone who can identify the reference to “Gypsy Bloodsmen”)

I’ve decided to debut a new song, possibly two, at my Summerfest show in 10 days. This would be fabulous if I had a new song, or two, completed. However, what I do have is a list of 8 songs that are in the works, and about 30 notebooks of all sizes where I’ve scratched out lyrics and ideas amid the to-do lists, journal entries, and promotion plans over the past few years.

Digging through my notebooks is oddly, oddly entertaining. Or maybe it just is for me. But if I’m ever famous, these things will be worth a mint to whoever wants to put me in the loony bin.

A few of the more random things I came across in my search for lyrics:

* a poem I wrote during college French
* quotes and ideas for my next tattoo (at least twice in every notebook)
* a list of everything I ever wanted to do or learn, when I was 21, regardless of how obscure
* artwork (i.e. pencil scribbles) by a then-3-year-old girl from an after school program where I used to work
* ideas for articles I intended to write during my brief foray into journalism

And my favorite, if only because it is so completely ridiculous and was such a waste of time and paper:
* every single name and phone number in my cell phone circa summer 2006, handwritten, in alphabetical order

A few things that have amused me over the past week, even as they have annoyed me:

** I received a letter on Thursday from the government. The envelope was stamped with giant red letters saying “ECONOMIC STIMULUS CHECK.” Eagerly opening it up, I discovered…a letter telling me that my economic stimulus check should arrive any day now. I’m really glad that our government is so fiscally responsible – I mean, printing and postage for 300 million or so letters, plus another set of 300 million or so checks, probably didn’t cost much, right? And I was so comforted to know that my check would arrive between 2 days and 6 weeks following that letter.

** At Bally’s over the weekend, I was fully immersed in my workout, doing sit-ups between sets and alternating with a medicine ball (the really heavy basketball thingy) and a stability ball (the great big bouncy thingy). This woman walked over to my corner of the mat, and without looking at me, took both balls. I stopped what I was doing, a little perplexed by her obvious ignorance of gym etiquette, and caught her eye as she walked away. She snarled, “You got something to say to me?”

Annoyed but trying to be polite, I responded with, “Most people ask before taking equipment away from someone at the gym.” I expected her to do one of 2 things: a) apologize and ask if I was still using the balls; or b) roll her eyes and walk away with one or the other. What I did not expect was c) a slit-eyed scan up and down my sweaty body, followed by, “I’m pregnant, what’s your excuse?”

For the record, I’m in pretty good shape. I rather like my body. So this stranger with whom I had no previous interaction, good or bad, calling me fat right there in the gym was just incomprehensible to me. Thinking it would be a bad idea to get into a fist fight with a pregnant lady, I tuned her out and went back to my sit-ups, though I caught something about how disgusting it for a woman to be as fat as me and the shame of being a size 8 (I’m actually a 6, but I don’t see anything wrong with being an 8, or a 10, or a 24 – if you’re happy with your body and you’re healthy, who the hell else should care?). Next time I see her, though, I may suggest she put the baby up for adoption. With a mom like that, the poor kid’s going to have self-esteem issues straight out of the womb…

** And one thing that isn’t stupid but is really kinda cute – I was at Barnes & Noble today, reading through a few potential purchases in one of the big comfy chairs, when an announcement came over the intercom. But it wasn’t an employee, exactly; it was a robot. Or, at least, an employee pretending to be a robot. And the robot was telling us all about the “Buy 2, get the third free!” DVD sale going on today.

I don’t normally pay attention to those announcements, but this one was just so random that the two guys sitting across the table from me both looked up, bewildered, and we all kind of looked at each other and giggled. Robots are amusing.

I cannot wait for Wall-E.