ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS...

So the Quiet One and I have been together for just over 7 months now! It's gone by so quiclky and yet there have been moments that have gone by in slow motion.

The tree at Rockerfeller Center...

If I don't see that tree every year, I feel incomplete. The tradition of that tree in the city has probably been around longer than I've been alive. Maybe I've seen too many holiday movies, or perhaps I am an even mushier romantic during Christmas, but I always had a fantasy about what going to Rockerfeller Center with a boyfriend would be like. I always imagined seeing the tree, the two of us making goo-gooly eyss at each other. Then we would embrace, kiss, and hold each other as if no one was around. I imagined us having an original New York pretzel, maybe a hot chocolate, and looking at the store front windows that are SO fantastic at Christmastime!! I just wanted a memory like that seared into my brain to take with me when I should ever go into a senior home when I turn 90...

Sure, I've gone to see the tree with past boyfriends. My fantasy was never played out. They would take me there, and they would take the "mandatory" photo of us, and next thing I knew I was on my way headed home. And they would say, "What? You saw the tree, you got the picture - what more do you want?"

Last night the Quiet One and I went to see the Tree at Rockerfeller Center...it was probably the only night we could do it together since I didn't have a show. We decided to park in a lot, because if you've never been to New York City, the parking signs are SO confusing that you will most likely receive a ticket. We walked down 49th Street and all the excitement was there - the children ooh'ing and aah'ing - taking pictures with second-hand costumed Mickey Mouses, SpongeBob's and the like! Right across the street from Radio City were the gigantic Christmas balls in red, silver and a King Kong sized display of multi-colored Christmas lights. Police were EVERYWHERE directing traffic, PEOPLE traffic, not just cars. As we got close to the tree, the Quiet One said, "You ready, baby? We're almost there!! Ready..." And there is was. As grand and as large as it can be! The happiest place in New York City is right there. Of course we could barely even walk, but it didn't matter - we were there, and he was wonderful about it! He asked to take a picture of me in front of the tree, and we took one of ourselves - after all, it's our FIRST Christmas together! And then, he stayed there. I couldn't believe, he didn't say to me, "Okay, let's get outta here - it's too crazy!" He wrapped his arms around me, and just like the movie, I exhaled. We kissed, yep, right there...no shame. Then he bought me roasted cashews & a pretzel, and we held hands..and although it was cold, I felt warm. We watched the MOST beautiful video display that is given on the side of Saks Fifth Avenue...God bless the person who thought of it. It was SO gorgeous that I cried. The Quiet One asked if I was alright,and I told him I cannot come here and not feel overwhelmed with the beauty and magic of Christmas here. He hugged me tighter, and we began walking away - one whole entire big, block away, when he asked me, "Did you want to do anything else?" I did, but I thought we'd already walked too far...that one block took us almost 10 minutes to walk because of the mass of people that had collected. So, I said, "Well, kind of, but that's okay...we're too far now." "Tell me, what did you want to do?" "Well," I confessed, "I wanted to see some of the store windows on 5th Avenue." "Okay." And without hesitation, he took my hand and to 5th Avenue we went. I thanked him...I still don't think he understands how much that meant to me. I'll cherish it forever!

Then he met my father and his wife a couple of months ago...Words that can describe my father would be: strong, opinionated, stubborn and old-world macho...so I had no idea what would happen. We were at dinner, my father telling stories of what I was like as a child, and there they were, smiling at one another. A moment that will stay with me forever was one I saw in slow motion. As my father was trying to get out of the car, I saw the Quiet One, come over, hold the door open and gently helped my father up. My father, now 80, doesn't feel 80, I'm sure...but his knees remind him, and it's painful for him to push up. The Quiet One did it in a way that was kind, but appropriate. He made my father feel good about it, not weird. I was very proud of him. My father is an EXCELLENT cook, and he made both of us flan (Spanish style custard)...but the Quiet One HATES flan! Not a good thing...it's like going to an Italian's house, and telling them you hate pasta! But the Quiet One was honest with my father, and later, my father admitted he liked his honesty. Cool.

Next test to pass: Dinner at my mother's with my three brothers, sister and three nieces. As soon as he got to my mom's house, my mom asked him to put something up for her. He was kind, eager and very helpful the entire day. Dinner at my mom's with my whole family is always a lot of fun, because there is so much laughter, chaos and friendly dysfunction. We were all sitting there...and the Quiet One is, well, sometimes, very quiet. He's a bit shy at first...but he does fine all by himself. When dinner was over, he was immediately washing dishes, collecting dishes...he's just the BEST! Later on, when I couldn't find him in the kitchen, he was playing with my nieces and they were giggling...he is a father already but he's a natural with children!!! I caught myself wondering what it would be like to be married to him, and wishing I met him so long ago!!

All I have EVER wanted for Christmas was to meet the man I'd like to spend my life with. All I have ever wanted was to feel TRULY loved, respected, and wanted. All I ever wanted was to KNOW that I can trust who I'm with - that I don't have to second guess myself...All I have ever wanted for Christmas was a REAL GOOD MAN!! It won't really matter what presents I get this year. For the first time in such a LONG time, I am H.A.P.P.Y!!! I am at peace. I realize that in the past, my past boyfriends were like a drug addiciton - not knowing if they would cheat or not, kept me awake at night. I was addicted to the drama of it...and I waited for the next high, and they would mess up, and I'd go into withdrawal. Couldn't sleep, couldn't eat...

This kind of love is peaceful. It is a calm I've never experienced before. I'm not used to it, but I sleep like a baby every night. This kind of love is reassuring, it's uplifting...it makes me feel like I am a complete person, and I have more than enough to offer a man. This kind of love is a real love...it's from God, I"m sure...All I want for Christmas is the Quiet One's wonderful love!!!! I know you're sick with my corny, mushy stuff...but I swear, it's SO awesome, and SO worth it!! And for Christmas, I wish you the very same: a love that lifts you, that loves, you, that respects you, that honors you, that makes you feel worthy of everything good!!!

FREESTYLE FREE FOR ALL & FRIENDS! NOV 5TH, 2011 - TAJ MAHAL A.C., NJ

I had a show in Philadelphia the night before, November 4th. It was a great show, but a long night. On my way upstairs I asked my road manager for my music that he left in the car. He didn't want to go back downstairs: "Judy, they already have the showtape for tomorrow, so you don't need it." I argued, "Yes, David, but if something goes wrong, I need back up." He didn't budge, and I admittedly was feeling too tired to argue with him. I arrived home from the show at 3am. I already knew I would be sleep deprived because I had to be up at 8:30am in order to arrive at my soundcheck on time. Walked through the door, took off my still sweaty clothes, wiped off the tons of black mascara from my eyes, threw on a t-shirt and went to bed...

Almost 10 minutes later, just as I began to have my first dream, my house phone rang. Who the heck would be calling at this ungodly hour? It was my road manager, "Yo, Judy, you gotta call the driver...call the driver..." He was ranting with incomplete sentences. "David, what happened?" "The driver left me." What do you mean 'the driver left me'?" "I mean...the driver stopped for gas, and I told him I would be right back. I went into the store, came out...and yo, he was GONE!" I immediately got on the phone, called the limo company's owner and told him what had occurred. Wow, I thought, that driver is probably almost at David's house...without David. The owner called me back, and told me, "Hey, Judy, Mike knows about David, and is on his way back to the gas station." And then it happened -

A little gurgle of laughter began to rise out from my stomach...

I could just imagine David standing there...This very large, muscular guy coming out of the store with some sort of food in his hand, and then with his mouth agape...thinking, "Oh s...t! Where's the freaking limo?" LOL.

I called David back to let him know that the driver was returning to his rescue. LOL. I began to laugh...and I didn't stop for almost ten minutes...I'm not exaggerating. I would be severely sleep deprived now, but damn, that laughter was ALL worth it! Everytime I thought of him standing there in complete disbelief that the driver was there, I lost it. Then it hit me. That's what he gets for refusing to get my music back to me. Karma is funny.

I got back to my bed. Closed my eyes. Ten minutes later - screaming coming from the park down the street. She was screaming as if she was being hurt, but then when I heard the screaming followed by her laughter, well, I didn't find it funny at all. The immature teen kept me up. It was 4:30 when I finally fell asleep. Oh, well.

I woke up, and out of sheer determination (and excitement - The Quiet One was going with me), I woke up with tons of energy. Or was it adrenaline? I arrived at the Taj Mahal in Atlantic City a little early, so the Quiet One and I decided to play slots for a minute. And in about two minutes of playing with just $20, I was $60 richer. Cool. We went to the theater for soundcheck, and there was Aby, Tony & Angel, formerly of TKA, on stage doing their thing. It had been a long time since I'd seen them on stage. Afterward, I see a red-head on stage, and for a second I wondered, 'Who is this girl?' And in just 5 seconds of her first song, I was catapulted back to the 80's, and instantly realized it was 80's teen heart throb, Tiffany! She began singing, I Think We're Alone Now, and I had a smile on my face. And then The Quiet One turned to me, and innocently asked, "Who is she?" There are times when I don't realize our 12 year age difference...and then there are times like these, that I think, "Oh, my God...I am SO much older than he is!" So I briefly educated him...and she began to do her next song, "Could've Been". I cried. Yep, right there during her sound check. I cried because, to be completely honest, I have not heard a voice sound as pure as hers in my life!! Take out Could've Been if you still own it on a 45" and give it a listen one more time. Her vocal range, power and tone are simply amazing, and I just could NOT believe that I was witnessing this with my own ears, in person. Sabrina, a member of the Cover Girls, had the same look on her face, and I took comfort in knowing I wasn't alone in my sentiment.

Well, it was showtime, and I was excited...and I was tired. I honestly wasn't even sure I would have a voice to get through the show. If I don't have enough sleep, I simply don't have enough voice either. But I took a nap before the show, drank something like 3 cups of coffee and three cups of tea & sucked on lozenges like a woman dying of thirst. I got to watch Tiffany perform again, and I just felt like, 'I have to meet this girl!" I went on right after Tiffany...and I was just elated at the thought that I could say, "Yes, I peformed with Tiffany...I even went on right after her." To me, that was a highlight of my career!

Funny little story. I was truly stressing about what I would wear for this show. I ended up purchasing a leopard print, one piece jumpsuit. It was simple, but it was comfortable, and I thought it was flattering. As long as I dressed itup with a lot of cool accessories great shoes, it would work. When I was getting ready for the show, and The Quiet One saw me, he asked me something he had never asked before: "Um, is that what you're wearing for the show?" "Um, YES, why?" "Well, it kind of looks like something you would sleep with ...it looks like something you would have worn in like the 80's." I was too nervous to even take in the comment. But just before I went on, I thought it would be useful for the show.

The emcee who introduced me was AMAZING! He gave me such an incredible introduction that the crowd was on their feet!! Wow! I wish I remembered it because I would have thanked the man myself! The crowd was ON THEIR FEET and I didn't even walk on yet. It's so exciting, so exhilarating and So SCARY!!! Now, that I have them on their feet, I somehow have to keep them standing! Pressure! I walked on with a smile that no one could ever erase! When you see the people standing, looking with hope in their eyes, you have to smile! These are moments that will be ingrained and burned into my memory for the rest of my life, so it has to count! So I began to sing and the dancers of T.R.U.E. dance company came on and joined me. They are simply amazing and determinged kids, for whom dance is such a passion! One of the dancers, Gia, stole the show! I was doing my chest pump dance move, and as the dancers were clearing the stage, she remained there, tapped me on the shoulder, and totally out-danced me...and then another dancer came back on stage, and literally picked her up and took her off stage. I heard the crowd laugh and applaud, and I thought, 'yeaaaa! She did it!' The crowd cheered, applauded so loudly, I got chills!! Didn't want to get off, but there were more people to be heard, lol.

My girl, my friend, the woman I look up to, Lisa-Lisa, was up next. As I was passing her on the stairs, she appeared upset. "Lisa, you ok?" I asked her. "My voice...it's just not there today." I want to take a moment to share something with you. If you are not a singer, most people say, "Oh, just drink some tea with honey & lemon." LOL Yes, tea with honey and lemon aer helpful, but sometimes it's not the cure-all you think it is. There is nothing more depressing and anxiety inducing for a singer than knowing your voice is not up to par. And when you are performing at a HUGE venue, where people have paid LOTS of money to see you sing JUST LIKE THEY REMEMBER, you feel like a failure before you even step onto the stage. My heart broke for Lisa-Lisa. I cannot tell you how many pep talks she has gifted me with throughout the years...it was my turn to give back to her and help out. I asked her, "Would you like me to help you?" "Yea, what ever, mama!" She had such a look on her face, one I'm all too familiar with. It was that - Oh, my God-how-the-hell-am-I-supposed-to-do-this - face! I asked the sound guy, "Do you have an extra microphone you could give me? She needs help." I stood backstage and anytime I thought she may need help with the higher notes, I sang along...if I could harmonize with her, I did...anything to help. When she came off stage, she thanked me, but she had tears in her eyes. To be 100% honest, she did GREAT! The crowd was with her, and I felt it in my heart that the audience sang with her, for her, to her...they just wanted to SEE her! I told her she did great...I just hope she believed it.


I eagerly watched the rest of the show, and then the Quiet One said to me, "Hey, Judy, I think that's Tiffany right next to you." I looked at him, and squinted my eyes, "Are you sure?" "Yes." I slowly turned my head as to not act like an idiot too much. And yes, that was her. I introduced myself, and she was THE BEST!!! She was totally humble, sweet in nature, and we talked a lot. I told her I had seen her on The View..and next thing I know she was asking me if I had a Facebook page. Suddenly, Slick Rick went on stage, followed by Vanilla Ice...and I really didn't care that they weren't freestyle artists...it was just nice for me to feel EXACTLY what the fans are always telling me that they feel - I was transported to an earlier time, a happier, more care-free, and innocent time!! It was a GREAT night!!

MY KIND OF TOWN, CHICAGO IS...

Anytime I perform in Chicago, I always feel a certain excitement. Next to the energy of New York City, I would say Chicago comes in second for me. Chicago is a beautiful city, and to call it the Windy City is indeed an understatement. But I woke up SO sick. Oh, my God! I couldn't move. My back was aching, and so were my joints. I woke up sweating and my throat felt as if I'd swallowed glass. How am I supposed to do a show all the way out in Chicago, and fly home the following day to sing on a ship in NYC?
I took my temperature. 100.5. Yep, low grade fever.

I had to be at the airport by 9:30am. So I rushed with my road manager, David, to the doctor's office. It would be open at 8:30am. So I was there at 8:15 am, begging the doctor's assistant to see me soon so I could catch my flight. My doctor laughed when he saw me. "Ha, you're sick? What happened?" He gave me a shot and two prescriptions...I ran to Rite Aid and begged the pharmacist to assist me in leaving on time. I was in the car at 9:28 am. Excellent. There was word all over the television of a winter storm warning for New York the following day. Yeah, sure.

As soon as I got to the hotel, I slept. I slept for about 2 1/2 hours - no where near what I needed. But it would have to do. I was picked up at 11:30pm...and I was excited. On Facebook, I get a lot of, "Judy, when are you coming to Chi-town?" I can honestly say I've never had a bad show in Chicago. So when my ride picked me up to go to the show, we overheard the promoter talking about rival gang members trying to get into the club. Oh. I forgot about that. Many times when I perform in Chicago, especially in certain areas, gang activity is a given. Although, thankfully, I've never had a personal negative experience, I have done shows for example Congress Theater, where a fight will break out. Whenever I ask what's going on, I'm told in one word: gangs.

Freestyle music is very much music of the Latino streets, so I am not surprised that our fan base also includes many in prison and in gangs. But it saddens me that going to a show to hear someone perform, which should be a FUN thing to do, sometimes turns into a tragic event. Music is supposed to bring people together, NOT be a preface to a battle. And so, the word was there were gang members trying to get in. Next thing I know my road manager is saying things like, "Be sure you stay close to me, and if something goes wrong, you go out this way...." In my almost 25 years of performing, I've only experienced three shows where there was extreme violence: one was a shoot out, the second was men & women with razor blades slicing each other, and the third was when my limo taken with ME in it - but that's a whole other blog.

Anyway, it was time to perform and dammit, I wanted to sing in Chicago...it was a new place for me: Buzz Bomb! I have to say the second I got on stage, the welcome was, well, it gave me the warm fuzzies all over, lol. From the second I got onstage, the stage was not too stable...and when you're wearing 4 inch heels, and the there's a potential for being recorded and put on youtube the following day if you fall, well, it's not a chance I was willing to take. Enter...the chancletas. Slippers are my best friend lately...they're black and they sparkle. So cute. I summoned my slippers and the promoter brought a chair on stage. Okay, dude, it's not THAT bad. LOL..I'm not that old, not yet. And so the show continued... and in spite of singing with a sinus infection, I think everything panned out just fine.

There was a man in the audience with a 12" of No Reason to Cry...he was waving the thing like a proud American would wave his flag. I asked if I could borrow it, and talked about the old days with 12 inch records and 45's and such. I gave it back to him. He was over excited - perhaps he was even drunk...and he became so rowdy that the bouncers removed him. I begged for them not to throw him out, but it was done. All I wanted to do was sign the album for him...so if anyone knows who he is, please forward me his name & address...I'd like to be sure he gets it.

What's my favorite thing about performing in the Windy City? The people. The people in Chicago, those who come to see me perform, are the MOST affectionate people I've met. Every single person tells me a story, hugs me, and I feel their sincerity. That kind of affection from your fans is quite unique. I stayed afterward to take pics and sign autographs - an hour and a half later, I was ready to return home...my flight to return home was so early that as soon as we returned to the hotel, it was time to pack my bag and head to the airport.

My flight was at 7am. I had to return & I wanted an early flight because I had a show that night on a ship in NYC. WE took off, we landed, (Thank you, God, for a safe flight)...and we arrived to rain. The Quiet One picked me up and had a cup of coffee ready for me (he's thoughtful that way :) ) and next thing I knew it was snowing...HARD!!! For the first time, New York was far colder than Chicago...

WELCOME TO MIAMI...BIENVENIDO A MIAMI

In less than two weeks I performed in three cities: Miami, Chicago and Atlantic City. My schedule beginning at end of October into November is BRUTAL...and it all began when I went to Miami. I'm sure people think it's all very cool to jet set all over the country - and it is a blessing, don't get me wrong, but allow me to give you an example of what it can be like.

First, I fly coach. LOL. I don't do first class. It would be nice, but let's face it; I'm not Lady Gaga. And I was sitting in the middle to two large men...and I'm a big girl too. I admit it must have been a funny sight. I land in Fort Lauderdale, a half hour away from Miami. We drive to the hotel, and I'm already sleep deprived from the day before because when I know I have a flight, I become anxious that I'll miss the alarm clock when it fires. So I take a nap...about an hour and a half. I wake to several messages and emails about the upcoming show in Atlantic City. I get picked up for the show around 11:30pm. I go onstage at 1:30am.

The Club at the Renaissance was the venue. The crowd was a good one. Scratch that. They were GREAT! I don't do Miami too often so I know the people who showed up really came to see me. AS I performed there were three men in the audience who were starry eyed. I rarely ever see men look at me that way. But something was different about them. Couldn't put my finger on it. As I performed, with each and every song, the energy from the audience expanded, and then I felt it. Euphoria. It's true happiness. And it is SO contagious. I feel it. The people feel it. And it is just the best natural high a person could have. When I sing, Please Stay Tonight, there is a small segment of the song where I move my hips right, left and as I do that, I lower my body. And then boom. I spring back up. Then I usually make a little joke about it. I say something like, "Ah, you didn't think I could get myself back up, huh?" Then the audience laughs, and so do I. So, there I was lowering my body....wait...um, hello? Oh, shoot!! I can't get up! LOL LOL LOL. Oh, my God! Seriously, I'm stuck. It may have been the shoes that were higher than usual, but for some reason, my legs just didn't have the oomph to pull myself up. So there I am, just squatting there. I have to sing in like 3 seconds. So, I did what we all have to do sometimes in life: I reached out for help. And two of the three men with starry eyes helped me up. I received great applause - I really had fun onstage!

Now it's about 2:15am. I have a flight at 7:40am. I need to get back to the hotel and get sleep. But I can't because there are people just outside the door of the dressing room, waiting for pictures. I firmly believe in meeting the fans, taking pictures and chatting with them. They deserve that. If they took the time to get dressed up to come see the show, if they take the time to wait on line to meet me, the least I can do is give them that time. Besides, I confess, I LOVE people. I love that we all come in different shapes, sizes, colors, attitudes, races, creeds...and I love to try to connect with each person - even if for a second. And so, I take a moment...get a couple of sips of water, and the door is opened. By now, my feet are usually hurting...but I put on my chancletas (slippers) and just keep going. There are always a few people who challenge me: "Judy, you don't remember me, do you?" Um. Hm.

When I'm in a good mood and I'm not too tired, my response will be, "No, I'm so sorry. Where did we meet?" or "How do we know each other?"

When I'm in a bad mood, or exhausted to the point I may cry, my response is, "No, I'm sorry." Period. What else can I say? But in my mind, I'm thinking, 'Um, hello, if I remembered you, you probably wouldn't have to have asked me.' But I know how rude that sounds in my mind, so it never gets released from my mouth.

But I won't lie. I won't make believe I remember that person. About 20 years ago, someone asked me, "Judy, you don't remember me, do you?" I didn't remember him, but I felt SO horrible because he had this hopeful look in his eye. So, I lied to please him, "Yeah, how are ?" He challenged me: "Oh, yeah, you remember me? What's my name? Where did I meet you?" I stood there like an idiot. I swore I would never lie again. Truth be told, sometimes I do remember a person's face, but not the name. It's hard. In the span of ONE evening, I am easily introduced to at least fifty people. It's really hard.

Okay, I got off the subject. Sorry. So, after a show there are always a few drunk ones. It used to bother me, but now I just find it funny that the next day, they will probably remember nothing. So as I was taking pictures the three men with the starry eyes came in. They took pictures with me and seemed tickled pink. I felt honored to take the pictures with them. There was something special about them. And then one of them, asked me in Spanish what my nationality was. I told him that my mother is Puerto Rican, and my father is Cuban. Their eyes lit up...as if they couldn't light up any further. He announced to me that they were all from Cuba and had been in the country for just a year. I asked them what city...they were from Havana, the very city my father was born in.

My father speaks of Cuba frequently. He tells me of the white sandy beaches, the amazing music and the impeccable dancing that occurs there. My father came to this country when he was shy of 18 years old. I understand from his stories that it was a hazardous trip, and that when he got here in the winter time, the only word he knew in English was hamburger. I admire my father for his courage. To come to a land where you don't speak the language, or know the culture...to not even have a home or know of a friend or a relative who can get you started - that takes guts. And my father created a wonderful life for himself here...and later in life, he had his sister and mother join him here as well. It is a common story for many of our relatives, but it is always admirable..this country is built on immigrants. I sure wouldn't be here today if my parents had not come into this country.

And so, the three starry-eyed gentlemen began to tell me about how they would climb to the roof of their homes with antennae to desperately try and catch Power 96, a big radio station in Miami. They told me they could barely hear No Reason To Cry but they knew they loved it. Wow. Their story, told with so much passion, simply brought tears to my eyes. The idea that they could have been in trouble if they had been caught, but they risked it anyway, truly moved me. They had looked forward to this day, hoping they could finally hear me in person, meet me. So cool. I gave them pictures, I took more pictures with them and I hugged them...really, really hard. Wow. Now, that's what I call Freestyle Freaks!! Yo quiero mi Cuba libre!!! (I want my Cuba to be free)

HEY HON, WANNA GO TO THE CLIFF???

Because of my career, many men have been under the impression that in order to make me happy, in order to impress me, in order to win me over, they need to wine me and dine me. Now, I admit, like any other woman, I love getting dressed up, going to a great restaurant with fine ambiance, and enjoying good conversation...but I don't need that all the time. Truth is, my best dates have been doing things unexpectedly and as long as it's new to me, and I have fun, I love it.

So, I got a phone call from the Quiet One.

"Hey, hon. It's a really beautiful day! How about we go to the cliff?"
"Really?"

I talk about the cliff to many people in my life, and I've even blogged about what I call My Cliff. I am happiest whenever I am around nature. There is something therapeutic about hearing the leaves being kissed by the breeze; seeing all the green all around; noticing the trees that have been in existence for almost an eternity; and the idea of a possibility of seeing the forest's creatures. All these things turn me into a little kid. I did indeed take the Quiet One to the cliff in the beginning of our relationship...all we did was stand there and talk. The Quiet One remembered. He remembered how much this little place means to me. The idea that he spontaneously suggested it thrilled me. So he picked me up, and there we were. I showed him the trails that are there - there are two. One marked with red on the trees and the other marked with blue. He spotted a turkey vulture. I looked up, waiting to see it soar. But he pointed straight ahead, and there it was walking along the woods. Cool. Turkey vultures are not exactly the most beautiful of birds, but I LOVE birds of prey. Just the mere sight of any bird of prey fills me with adrenalin. We began to walk the trail marked in red, but we quickly realized we were not wearing the appropriate clothing, or type of shoes for the rocky landscape. He suggested that the next time we came to the cliff, we should make a day of it; pack a bag, blanket and snacks, and go.

So the following week, The Quiet One picked me up. That particular day, for some reason, I wasn't really in the mood. But the sun was calling out, reminding me that soon it would be further away. Soon it would be too cold to visit the cliff...this was the day. So, he drove me there - knapsack, blanket, snacks, water and all. We had our hiking shoes on too. We chose the trail with the red on the trees. Last summer I had attempted that trail, but I was forceed to stop dead in my tracks because there was so much brush growth, it completely denied me access. But on this day, with the Quiet One, it was completely free. There was a sign posted: 440 Foot Descent. I don't know what the hell that means - 440 feet? I just know I was determined to do it. And so was the Quiet One. And so we began to walk down.

It was wonderful because for two hours we were completely alone, almost as if no one else existed. As we walked, sometimes in complete silence, we saw chipmunks, more chipmunks...and more chipmunks. We found a large rock that to me, looked like a love seat. We sat for a moment and took in the awesomeness of the forest. And then we continued to walk down, even passing the area where I was stopped last year. Finally, at the very bottom, we had reached the river. It was GREAT! It was so quiet, so private and extremely peaceful. We found a large tree and sat for a while. It was perfect. It was even romantic. And all I kept thinking was how sweet he was to do this for me. Although he's never told me, I get the feeling that nature is not really his thing. But he entertained me with something that I love, and it makes me love him that much more.

It was time to go back. Oh. I forgot. The entire return trip would be entirely uphill. Uphill onto rocky terrain, over broken trees and sometimes unsteady footing. The Quiet One was so manly - he sometimes walked in front of me to be sure I wouldn't step on something unsteady. He sometimes walked behind me, claiming he just wanted to see my butt, lol. Silly. Either way, half way up, I was huffing and puffing...and sweating. Excuse me, I mean I was glistening. He was not. Damn, I really need to get into better shape. Perhaps Zumba isn't enough. Three quarters of the way, I HAD to STOP. I needed a little break. We rested about a minute and proceeded. "We're almost there, honey...you got this!!" Aw, he's so supportive. LOL...in my mind, I was thinking, "Yeah, that's easy for you to say, Tarzan!"

Just before we reached the end, the Quiet One pointed out the cutest deer. I love deer. Some people see them as nuisances on the highway, or creatures harboring lyme-disease carrying ticks, but I see them as sweet, docile creatures. In Native American folklore, they are considered to represent innocence and child-like naivete. Either way, the Quiet One saw something that he knows I love...

Looks like the Quiet One is the Good One too. I have to tell you that so far, I have nothing bad to report. As we ge to know one another, I have learned that he is easy-going, attentive, romantic, affectionate...and he can be quirky too. One of his quirks, my favorite so far, is that when he really likes a song, he will sing it passionately, but a split second faster than the tempo of the song. As a singer, it used to make me cringe, but now it makes me smile!!!! It was nice to see for once where the trail led to...it was nice to finish what we started...it was simply - very - nice.

DID GOD JUST POKE ME???

With all my recent health issues, I've been on top of everything. I've been current with all my doctors, tests, etc. So far, other than the darn chest pains, I've been doing great!

So this past Thursday evening around 5:45pm or so, I was watching television, preparing to go out, when...OW! OW! What the hell was that?! I felt like I was stabbed in my lower right side of my body. The Quiet One was with me. "What is it?" We both kind of laughed because I jumped up as if someone invisible hit me. I thought nothing of it...until about an hour later, when I began to feel throbbing, and some cramping. But there was no blood, so I just thought maybe something I'd eaten simply didn't agree with me. When I got home, the Quiet One wanted to stay with me. He knew I was in pain, and as much as I acted like I wasn't, he knew. He wanted to take me to the hospital, but I wanted to wait it out until morning. I never woke him, but I tossed and turned all night...the pain was intense enough to keep me wide awake. He made me promise to go to the doctor first thing in the morning. And that's what I did.

Friday morning.
My doctor's office opened at 11am, and I was the first one there. I was also the only one there. Apparently he was on vacation. I almost cried when his assistant, Iris, informed me. I've been a patient of his for almost 20 years now and Iris is the BEST! She immediately asked me what was wrong. I told her of my symptoms, and I also mentioned that I had an early show that evening and two shows on Saturday..this needed to be taken care of TODAY! I saw her rapidly get on the phone and call in a "favor". Next thing I know she gave me a prescription to get an ultra sound. I had 45 minutes to drink at least eight glasses of water. When having an ultra sound, apparently they want to see you with a full bladder. So I arrived at 1:30 for my appointment, anxious and REALLY needing to pee. I don't mean the typical, "Gotta go, gotta go, gotta go right now...Pee-Pee Dance" It was beyond difficult to hold it any longer. So I filled out all the necessary paperwork, handed them my insurance card (thank you, KTU) and waited. Five minutes...15...20....Oh, my God, if my bladder blows up, we'll have a new problem all together. Finally, I spoke up and told them I had to be called or I was gonna die. The woman at the desk was kind enough to say, "Okay, go to the bathroom and just let a little out." Huh? A little?! Don't she know I gotta go? Asking me to urinate just a little was like asking me to hold a door to a dam that had broken. I had visions of Niagara Falls, running water faucets - big time! Then finally, my name was called.

The ultrasound technician seemed short with me; not mean, but borderline rude. When people are that way, I remind myself that it's possible it's been a hard day for them. It doesn't mean it makes it okay, it just keeps me calm enough to not say the wrong thing. She was pressing down on my stomach with the instrument, reminding me how badly I still needed to go. Then she began to huff and puff. Then she got quiet. Uh, oh. Something is wrong. I know it. She asked me to empty my bladder and return. So I did, and once again she seemed irritated but it was different. "I have to get the doctor to look at this." So the doctor came over, and they both began to deliberate and describe all the things they thought it could be. Um, hello, I'm right here. Talk to me!!

"Ms. Torres, it is?"
"Yes."
"It looks as if you have a rupture in your ovary. It could be a ruptured ovary, an ectopic pregnancy, a ruptured cyst, or a tumor. But you have too much fluid & a little blood in your pelvis, so we can't really see well enough to determine."
"So I guess I won't be doing any show tonight, huh?" (always keep a sense of humor in times like these)
"No. There will be no shows tonight. I'm sending you to the hospital right now for a CAT scan. You may need emergency surgery."
I thanked them, and hugged the ultrasound technician...first time I saw her smile all day. Maybe that's exactly what she needed a hug, showing appreciation from someone!

As I dressed and returned to the waiting room, I began to make the slew of phone calls that would have a domino effect on so many people. I HATE canceling shows. I hate it. I end up letting down so many people. In a regular office job, you can call your boss, and tell him/her you're sick. A few people at work may have to work a little harder to make up for your absence, but it's okay. In the past, with my job, when I called out sick, I got threats for law suits. Calling out sick in this career, disappoints the managers, the road managers, the promoters, the clubs and most importantly- the fans. It's a big loss money-wise, and I can do nothing about it. The doctor gave me the proper paperwork, and I began to walk to the hospital a block away. I called my road manager and began to call my family, the Quiet One, and anyone else I could think of that I knew would be affected. Iris, from my doctor's office, called my cell phone to tell me she had notified the doctor on call at the hospital. I am so grateful to her. If she had not done that favor for me, and got me to take that ultra sound, I have to confess I know I would've waited until Monday so I could do my shows.

At the hospital, I had a deja-vu. Last time I was in this emergency room, I had optic neuritis, went blind in my right eye, and spent a week in the hospital before finally being diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. I prayed so hard, "Lord, thank you for putting me in the right hands. Thank you that we now know something is wrong, and whatever we need to do to fix it, will be done. But please, I don't want surgery. Please." The feeling of uncertainty was just too familiar in that moment. The Quiet One was rushing to get to the hospital, and my relatives kept calling to see if I was okay. In the meantime, I did what everyone does in the emergency room: wait, wait, wait all the while in pain, pain, pain.

I was called into a room where my vitals were taken. My blood pressure was through the roof - something that had NEVER happened before. No fever. And I was brought immediately to a room and asked to undress & put on a gown. The room was freaking freezing, with an enormous spotlight hanging from the ceiling. All sorts of unknown instruments were sitting on the table, and it was a bit scary. After almost 20 minutes a nurse walked in, set up an i-v & took urine and blood samples. Ten minutes later a doctor came in and did a quick pelvic exam and told me we were going to set up for a CAT scan.

Twenty minutes later, I'm transferred to a different room, where I'm given a nasty orange concoction, and told I have to drink the entire thing. "You have to have a full bladder when you go for the scan." AGAIN? I have to hold it AGAIN?! Ughhhhhhh!!!! But I nodded my head. The Quiet One arrived, looking so handsome. I wonder if he knows how great it was to see him. I hope I made it clear. He's a good man. Here it is, Friday night...he could be anywhere but in the hospital. He is so supportive, kind, considerate and he makes me feel tremendously loved. About 10 minutes later, a gentleman came to let me know he'd be coming to get me for the scan in ten minutes....an hour and fifteen minutes later, I was desperately searching for someone to permit me to use the bathroom. I finally found a nurse, who gave me a look with major attitude, "Oh, no you're NOT using the bathroom!" I looked at her like, "Oh yeah? Watch me!" I won. She laughed and said, "Okay. But I didn't give you permission." I was finally brought to the CAT scan room, where I was asked to drink more Ghetto-Chemical-Tang again! Hey, you have to do what you have to do.

I was brought into a room that gives the Alaskan temperature competition. I was injected with iodine, contrast, I had been asked to drink chemicals that probably made me glow in the dark. I had been poked and prodded, I felt like an animal...just about. But I have to say that everyone was kind to me. Forty-five minutes later, the doctor came to let me know that the good news was I won't need surgery. He told me I had a ruptured ovarian cyst, and because it had already ruptured there was nothing left to do but bear the pain (he gave me meds) and allow my body to heal itself.

It was raining outside. It was close to eleven at night. I was in the hospital for about eight hours! The Quiet One brought me home. My stomach was throbbing, and my insides were distended... or should I say it appeared extended out to the next corner. So, a small ovarian cyst came into my life, ruptured, and made my life for the last 72 hours painful, uncertain and scary. The Quiet One said that God poked me, and is trying to tell me to slow down. Hm. Now there's a thought. God poking me. LOL. He poked a bit too hard, I think. But perhaps he's right. I've been running around taking care of everyone, worried about everything and neglecting my well-being. So, thank God! I didn't need surgery. Thank God the promoters were not angry and the fans understood. Thank God it wasn't more serious. Thank God I have a wonderful family, the Quiet One, and great friends who were all ready to do whatever necessary to be by my side. Thank you, Lord, for poking me...did you have to poke so hard? A ruptured cyst...who would've thunk it? Wow...a small thing gave me a big pain in the...

The lesson, ladies and genlemen, is that when you have pain, listen to your body. That small pain that pokes, prods, throbs, stings, whatever...is trying to tell you that something is simply not right. Listen to it, and don't make God poke you!!! LOL. Heres' a link in case you'd like to know the symptoms for future reference: http://www.medicinenet.com/ovarian_cysts/article.htm

A PHONE CALL CHANGES EVERYHING

A few months ago, I received a call I never thought I would. It was the Lobster's ex-wife. She wanted to know if I would tell her why I had broken up with the Lobster.

It's been three years since I broke up with Lobster. It was an almost six year relationship full of high highs and humiliating low lows. After almost six years of extremes and hollow promises of marriage and a future family, I had had enough, and I stopped the nonsense. So when his ex-wife called me, I was actually happy about it. I had wanted to speak to her for years, but Lobster had pretty much villianized her, and had me believing she didn't even want to speak to me. Okay, so we began to talk, and I told her EVERYTHING I could remember, anything I could think of and I asked her a few questions myself. And in one flash, it all came together. Boom. Bam. Pow. I felt like I was watching 20/20 with Barbara Walters or Diane Sawyer. I could imagine the female voice over in my head: "...They were together almost six years. They met, they fell in love. There was talk of marriage, and then a sudden move and she was excluded from it all. But why?...and in one phone call it all made sense." The Lobster's ex-wife and I were able to put all the pieces of the puzzle together, and we discovered together that almost the entire duration of my relationship with the Lobster, he was with her. And that's when the female voice over says: "...and he was leading a successful double life."

Although I broke up with him three years ago, and although I had been over him for a long time, I always KNEW there was someting WRONG in my gut about him. I recall he had gone with me to a counseling session, where I had told the therapist, I KNOW there's a big secret he's holding onto because nothing makes sense. Nothing. He swore on his life he had no secrets, and I was just insecure. Take this as a lesson: when your gut tells you something is "off", you don't need further proof. You need no proof. Your gut just knows. Period.

And so, she and I had a very long overdue conversation. We learned that we were both taken for fools, both used, both good women who simply believed in someone we loved. We wished each other well...and I hung up, feeling relieved, feeling like I finally got the closure I was looking for, and feeling f#$ng pissed off!! And then my chest began hurting...and it hurt every single time I had an "Oh, so that's why he..." moment. So I did what I thought I needed to do. If I was having a chest pain, I figured it made sense that I needed to get something off my chest. And so I picked up the phone and called him. "Lobster (I wanted to call him all sorts of names but I held my tongue) by now you know that I've spoken with your ex. All I can say is that karma is a REAL BITCH and I hope you know what you're doing, because it will all come back to you. So, God bless you when that time comes. In the meantime, I thought you were the love of my life, but you were the LIE of my life." And I hung up. I could do no more, because the truth is you cannot vent to someone like that. It would be wasted breath to say everything, when I knew he would deep down have a smug smirk on his face. He's just not worth it. Really, and truly.

I'm so glad I moved on. I told the Quiet One all about it, and he surprisingly was VERY supportive. He listened to me bitch, cry, question, and the whole time, he held me, and told me it would be alright. He actually told me somethings that made me feel healed from it all. Any man would easily say, "That's your past, forget about him. It's us now." And any man would be right to do that. But the Quiet One, I believe, understood this incomplete issue in my life, and he was kind enough to entertain it for amoment, but he wouldn't allow me to feel sorry for myself. He showed me how all these events happened for a reason. And the best thing was that he said, "I'm glad it didn't work out, otherwise, I wouldn't have met you now. I'm so happy he's in my life. I'm happy. I feel that God has rewarded me for no longer tolerating crap in my life....The Quiet One is also the Noble One, the Good One, the Honest One! He's quickly become the love and light of my life.

Fast forward to last week. I have had to see a cardiologist because the chest pains have never left. They happen now for no reason at all. I shouldn't say it's pain as much as it feels like someone is sitting on me and won't get up. I've had an xray, an ekg, an echo-cardiogram, and a stress test..all normal. My doctor says anxiety is a diagnosis of exclusion. In other words, before he says the chest thing is due to anxiety, he has to rule out everything else first. Now the chest discomfort comes for no reason at all. I could be sitting, resting, thinking about nothing at all, and it comes on suddenly. Sometimes it sits with me for days, sometimes it drives me crazy. I was talking to a friend and I told her that I don't think it's unfinished business because I forgave him a long time ago. I won't allow the jerk to rule my life like that...no power to him, hell no. And then she said the most profound thing. She said, "Judy, I know that you forgave him already. But have you forgiven yourself?" And wow. I was stoppped in my tracks. I could't refute it, I couldn't argue, debate...she was right. I haven't forgiven myself. I haven't forgiven myself for having been so stupid to believe his lies, to not pick up on the clues, for allowing myself to be mistreated, neglected, to be second...ugh. How do I do that? I have forgiven EVERYONE for EVERYTHING that has ever been done to me...but how do I do that when I wasn't even aware that I was mad at myself? It's a great thought. I have to chew on that for a while...Oh, by the way, if you ever find the Lobster, you have my blessing to throw him back in the ocean, or just simply broil it.