'm going to start blogging more. Fun things are happening, and the people need to know!

I've been doing the Nashville thing again a lot lately. And the strangest thing is happening. When I come back to Louisville on Monday or Tuesday mornings, I find myself a little bit depressed. It's the same feeling I used to have near the end of my stint in New York City. I visited Louisville a lot in between my mother's chemo treatments. Every time I flew back to New York on Monday morning, I felt sad, as if I didn't really want to be there. That time it was because I wanted to be in Louisville; this time it's because I want to be in Nashville.

I know, I know, I should just stop talking about it and move already. I'm working on it. Anyone want to rent my third bedroom in the Highlands?

Anyway, I think part of it is that I actually feel like I do live in Nashville. I've got a room here, and I have friends who call me to go do adventurous things. Last Friday, I went to hear Greg Foresman at 3rd & Lindsley. He wasn't playing until late, so i had a drink with his fabulous bass player, Tim Halcomb (danny flanigan's bass player), and listened to Greg Martin play guitar. I'm not one of those guitar nerds, but i sat at the bar COMPLETELY in awe of his skills and tasteful playing. Greg Martin is in the Kentucky Headhunters, and that night was playing with his new band, Rufus Huff. He was also playing this 1958 original Gibson Les Paul ... i mean it's worth more than my house. I love that he's out there playing it. I imagine the rest of those still in existence are locked up in vaults somewhere wasting away.

The coolest part of the evening was when he came up to me after the show -- yes, he came up to me -- and said, "Brigid, I'm Greg, it is so nice to meet you. I am a big fan of yours." See, my friend, THAT is why I love Nashville. I was completely floored and tried telling him how amazing his playing was. It turned into a cutesy little, "YOU'RE great, no YOU'RE great!" moment. And then Greg Foresman played, and just ripped it up too. I've still got "Strike Up the Band" in my head. I sang backup for him once about two years ago, and i still remember every harmony and lyric.

Hmmmm ... what else have I done lately? I saw Shannon Lawson play twice last week, once in Louisville and once in Nashville. You Louisvillians probably saw him when he lived there and was in the Galoots. Well, that was when I was in high school, so I missed out on the fun. But he's uber-talented. And if you don't know him, or have forgotten because he's been in Nashville so long, then get ready to remember. He makes a special appearance on my new record, and it's gonna bring a tear to your eye. (I'm not so good at the "surprise" part of "surprise guest." I never have been. That's why I never have Christmas presents for people. If I find a gift in October, then I bequeath it in October. No sense in waiting!)

I'm getting my new record mastered this week and am plotting its release upon the world.

I'm going to South by Southwest in a few weeks and am stoked about several things there. The most exciting part is that I get to see Lyzz, my college roommate and BFF. I haven't been to Austin in two years, since Lyzzie's wedding (she's still married -- amazing!). I'm bringing my swimsuit for Barton Springs. My favorite thing about Austin is that you get chips-n-salsa EVERYWHERE. Chips-n-salsa might just be my favorite food, after ripe watermelon.

Tonight I'm in Nashville, and i'm planning on seeing Jonell Mosser at 3rd & Lindsley as well as Eric Wilson at the Five Spot. Tomorrow I'm going to get brunch. Maybe I'll blog about how much i love brunch. I wonder if I'll have chips-n-salsa with my french toast.

Ok, I'm just babbling now. Must stop. But i'm going to babble a lot more often, so check back or subscribe... i plan on getting into lots of mischief in the coming months. And putting many miles on the ol' Volvo.


Oh, check out this cool video of me playing accordion with 7 Mary 3! They have a new record out, and this is one of my favorite of their new songs .. "Upside Down." If you watch until the very end, then you get to see Jason Ross (the lead singer) giving a shout out to "brigid kaelin!!!" So cool.

Zombies and Why I Would Never Survive the End of the World
Current mood: angsty
Jason and Patrick at JR's Vovo fixed my brake lights in about 15 minutes. It was some sort of part that starts with an "A" and isn't the brake lightswitch. I think the name was "Aggresive" or "Assertive" or "Appendix." I have no idea because I am NOT mechanically inclined.

This really bothers me.

I think I am a talented person. I can do things. I can yodel. I can play the accordion and the piano at the same time. I can bake killer desserts. I can do my taxes. I can draw and paint pretty well. I can write HTML. I understand that leaving the stove on, even "just on low," while you run to the grocery, is a bad idea (Rachel). I can remember birthdays of people I went to third grade with. I have a thing for memorizing area codes. I can type 120+ words per minute.

But tell me, what practical use are ANY of these skills at the end of the world?

On Peter Searcy's tour bus, i developed a fondness for zombie movies. Peter and I listened to the World War Z Podcast and discussed various tactics for surviving a zombie attack. We wondered if we would survive. I have no doubt that Peter would be the hero of the movie/armageddon, battling zombies and resourcefully figuring out ways to maintain electricity and running water. I mean, the last time I talked to him, he was laying hardwood flooring. He has skills!

Me, however? I would be a total drag. I would be that annoying girl in the movie who can't even fix her brake lights. I hope the zombies don't come. They would eat my brains first. Oh wait, zombies don't eat brains. What do they do? See, I can't even figure out how zombies work.

My brake lights don't work. At all. It's not the bulb, and it's not the fuse. From my discussion with the boys at Auto Zone on Charlotte Avenue, I've narrowed it down to a) the brake light switch or b) a mysterious Swedish disease that Volvos get. The boys at AZ had faith that I could fix the brake light switch myself, as it's only a $10 part. All I had to do was remove the dash under the steering wheel, feel up the brake pedal, and adjust the nut on the switch.

My dad is probably freaking out reading this because it's actually his car I'm talking about here. We switched about a year ago because my keyboard doesn't fit in my Acura, but it fits in his Volvo wagon. Well, don't worry, Dad, I wasn't able to get the dash off. I got one of the screws out (i think it's in my pocket now), but i couldn't get the other one off. After several hours of frustration, I gave up, and I'm going to JR's on Monday when I get back to Louisville. IF I get back to Louisville without being rear-ended.

This is annoying to be because I SHOULD be able to fix this. Why don't I know about cars? Why didn't I spend my youth under the hood learning how to change brake pads and oil? Why had I never heard of a brake light switch until yesterday. What good was a childhood spent practicing piano and reading books if I can't change my tail light? Hmpf!!

Anyway, after I gave up on fixing my car, I went to a fabulous house concert last night. I knew the folks throwing the party, but really didn't know anyone else in the room, except my ol' pal, Cowboy Jack. So I sat next to him, and we discussed the different kinds of musical saws I've got in my trunk (or wagon, i should say). And what he's been up to lately. I kind of wish he was my grandpa. Anyway, it was good to see him again. He's so fun to talk to you, you forget you're talking to a legend.

The music was good too. It was Korby Lenker, whom I'd met in Boulder and again in Nashville, but who I had never heard live before, Carey Ott, and Jason Harrod.

Great writers and performers, plus Lori's amazing macaroni-and-cheese, and good friends = a good evening. When does the shine of this city wear off? People keep telling me it will.

Back to Louisville tomorrow. First stop: JR's. Too bad no one will be able to tell that I'm stopping. Maybe I'll bust out the old hand signals.

Almost forgot to include this video. Peter Searcy's single, "I Believe," has been featured on Lipstick Jungle in NBC and will be on Oprah Winfrey's primetime show next month. Here's the new video for it. I play the part of the "Hot Chick Bass Player." And YES, I'm playing the right notes:

a little sick
Current mood: tired
For the first time in my entire life, I am home sick today. Yes, I was that nerdy kid who never once missed a day of school (i have a silver bowl that says "12 Years Perfect Attendance"), and my TV producer job was too deadline-central to ever consider not showing up for work. I feel really guilty about having to cancel a few piano lessons today. I feel lazy because there are a million other things I need to do to prepare for my new record. But I've barely moved from bed since Friday night.

Nobody likes to read a blog about how someone else is sick. No one really likes to hear about anyone being sick. It's depressing and sad, and people sound like they are whining. (Note, i'm talking about colds, flus, fevers, not horrible illnesses like cancer.)

So rather than blog about how miserable I've been the past three days (i AM a Leo, so allow me a tiny bit of self-indulgence), I just wanted to point out the things that have made the weekend tolerable.

My dog Guinness. He is huge. 140ish pounds of Great Dane/Lab mix love. Normally he is not allowed in my bed. But as i went in and out of heat waves and total body chills, I found Guinness to be better than a blanket. Except when he stands up and accidentally stands on my kneecap, making me wonder if i'll need knee replacement surgery.

My parents. Normally, I am the most stubborn person in the world when it comes to asking for anything. I refuse help when I should be asking for it. This weekend, however, I succombed to total weakness -- my inability to go up the stairs to get water, to feed Guinness, to eat anything. Mom brought me vegetable broth and let the dog out. She sat in a rocking chair by my bed and watched me fall in and out of sleep. How boring am i? Dad brought me a smoothie this morning. Saturday he brought me a Winnie-the-Pooh thermomete (i obsessively took my temperature at least 5 times an hour when i was awake). It's like they actually like taking care of me.

Text messaging. Since i can barely talk, i love being able to converse over a text.

The Princess Bride. I haven't watched this in a few years, but it has long been my favorite. I was a bit apprehensive this afternoon, afraid that this might be one of those times when you watch a favorite childhood movie and realize it's total crap (Don't re-watch Pump Up the Volume). Thankfully, it holds up over time. Never gets boring. If only Peter Falk would come over and read me a story. (Did you know he had a glass eye since he was a kid? The things you learn when you do someone's A&E Biography).

My iPod. I cant' keep my eyes open long enough to read a book, so i've been listening to audiobooks and podcasts of This American Life and 60 Minutes.

Over-the-Counter meds. When the Man in Black told Andre the Giant that he would have a horrible headache upon his awakening, i suddenly felt a grand appreciation for Advil and Robitussin.

Having my own bathroom. I sleep in the basement, where I have my own bathroom. My bed is terribly uncomfortable though (it's a futon). Last night about 4am, i went upstairs to the guest bedroom to try to sleep on the comfy bed. At 5am, i tried to use my roommate's upstairs bathroom, but instead, basically fell into the cold, porcelain black hole. R's boyfriend seriously needs to learn to lower the toilet seat! Annoyed, i stumbled back down to my dungeon. The trade-off of the uncomfortable, cold dungeon, for a private bathroom, is totally worth it.

Do I sound too whiny?

Sorry.