As I pulled up to Mudita Yoga, I saw a woman with a yoga mat starring at the door of the center, then walk away. Hmmm. Sure enough. According to the notice on the front door, class had been canceled. Here I had summoned up my willingness to be the clumsy “beginner” in a class situation, and I’d been spared by circumstances beyond my control.

Yet, I was disappointed. Shoot! My new experience plans had been thwarted!

So… I can’t say I did anything new yesterday. It just didn’t happen.

But today was a new day! And a very hot one, too! In 94-degree heat, I went to the Kingston Farmer’s Market, which felt oddly quiet and slow, most likely due to the oppressive, sticky heat. Then, I went to the Kingston Libary, something I’ve been wanting to do for a while.

It’s such a small libary! In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a library with such a small collection of books. It was kind of cute! And the librarian was so sweet. I found a couple of books to check out, then went through the process of getting my Kingston library card. Another first!

This afternoon, I’ve been reading one of the books I checked out, The Memory Keeper’s Daughter, and resting, mostly. This has been an incredibly hard, taxing week, and to have this lazy Saturday to read and relax has been very healing.

By the way, libraries are so very cool. I forgot just how cool they are. In this time when so much of what we read is online, or can be ordered online from Amazon.com, I forgot how much you can get FOR FREE from your public library.

Go check it out.

On Day 15 of Experiencing New Things, I was mired in the usual work day, spending most of it at my desk, meeting deadlines. I really thought I’d be without a new experience to report, but then, the skies grew dark, thunder boomed, and torrents of rain fell hard. It had been pretty toasty all day, and the sight of that thick sheet of rain called to me. I ran outside in my shorts and t-shirt, and let the rain just soak me through as I danced to the distant thunder and searched the skies for lightening.

Then, another new experience! The sudden downpour had created rivers of water in the street gutters, graceful, fast and

Me as Wet Rat in from the Rain

thick. So I jumped in! With both feet. And I almost gasped. While the rain was cool and refreshing, the water swirling around my feet was deliciously warm, warmer than bath water. Now, this may come as no surprise to other New Yorkers who are used to rain storms in the heat of summer, but for me, it took me a half-second to “get” it.

The hot streets, having broiled in the summer sun all day, had immediately cooked up the temperature of the rain water the second it hit the ground, and the more that water washed through the steets, the hotter it had become.

I came back into the house, happy and drenched to the bone, and in full appreciation for this 31 Daysof Experiencing New Things project. Because if I hadn’t been on the lookout for a new experience, I would have watched the thunderstorm from my window, then gone back to work. But when I saw that rain, I knew. Another  opportunity to experience something new had been delivered to my door.

On Saturday, Day 16, the act of buying coffee was transformed into yet another delightful, spontaneus, surprising event. On my way back from the Kingston Farmer’s Market, I stopped at Monkey Joe’s, one of Kingston’s famous coffee houses. My bon vivant likes a certain coffee there, so I thought I’d pick up a pound. Besides, it would give me a chance to put up a poster announcing my upcoming gig on July 29 at Savona’s.

The place was fairly empty (everyone at the Farmer’s’ Market, most likely). A good-looking gentleman in a Monkey Joe’s t-shirt was carrying large plastic dispensers of coffee beans from the back of the store to the display in front. I asked him, “Is it okay if I post this in your window,” handing him my poster. He looked at it, then at me, and asked, “Is that you?” pointing to the photo in the poster. A ligitimate question given the fact I was all diva-dolled up in the poster, while at that present moment, I looked like… well, me.

“Yep, that’s me!”

“Oh, yeah, okay, sure” he said. “Do you sing?” And that started a conversation about music. Seems he sings, too. AND writes songs. Lots of them. He even performs them from time to time with a guitar-playing buddy of his. Turns out I was talking to Gabe, who owns Monkey Joe’s. And to make a long story short, he ended up bringing out his guitar from the back room, sat at a table and sang 5-6 of his original songs. At one point, his adorable wife joined in to sing back-up. I was being treated to my very own Saturday morning concert!

And you know what? His songs are good! Great lyrics, — smart, snappy and full of story, and the songs were catchy, melodic, and diverse. Since serveral of his tunes could easily be rearranged as a jazz tune, I may get to cover 1-2 of his tunes at my September gig.

The rest of the day was full of new experiences as well. Before going to a concert — Art of the Duo with Maryanne deProphetis, vocals, and Frank Kimbrough, piano — at the New Music Salon at Beahive in Kingston, I had a glass of Pinot Grigio and a scallop appetizer at a new uptown Kingston restaurant, called Boiston’s. A small place with a good-sized bar and a partially open kitchen (which is always fun, to watch chefs cook) this restaurant has an upscale, classy feel without any attitude. It felt like walking into one of  San Francsico’s newer, trendier restaurants near the Castro or even downtown. I was right at home!

Jackie: singer, spitfire, eater of fried chicken

At the bar, I met a charming, ebullient 11-year old girl named Jackie who was sitting between her parents. She told me the fried chicken she was eating was the best she’d ever had. And I have to admit, it looked really good. Then, she told me she was a singer too, and, in fact she was going to music camp next week. She was adorable, so full joy and energy. I felt entertained and blessed to have met her… and her parents, who obviously had their hands full with such a spit-fire girl!

Yesterday, Day 17, I did something decadant, nourishing and healing. I got up, called the Emerson Resort and booked a massage. I knew about the Emerson because I used to try to sell advertising to them for New York House, and while I’d seen the resort, which is gorgeous, I’d never used their spa… which is also gorgeous. I had a wonderful massage from Jodi (ask for her if you go there! She’s great!), a bit of a steam, and then floated home. Even though it’s pricy there, when you book any service, like a massage or facial, you have full use of the spa facilities, like the steam room, sauna, hot tub, as well as the workout facilities. And the atmosphere is lovely. It’s worth taking a break and taking some time there.

Onward to yet more new experiences!

On Day 12 of this project, which was July 13, I grabbed my bon vivant and my camera and headed down to the marina in Kingston where we bought sandwiches at the Rondout Deli (yummy turkey & avocado wraps) and ate on the grass near Mariner’s restaurant. Afterwards, we wandered down to feed the ducks and geese, which I hadn’t done for so long, and I took some photos, like the one in this blog post.

On Day 13, I made Chicken with Lots of Garlic for dinner. This is a totally new recipe for me, one I snatched from Yummly.com. I’d been wanting to make this recipe for awhile, but it’s been too dang hot to cook lately. Our kitchen is the hottest room in the house, so an adventure in cooking hasn’t sounded appealing until last Wednesday. It was fun to try something new, and Mark loved the chicken. I, on the other hand, thought it was just okay. I’d make it again, just because it was so much fun and very garlicky, but next time, I’ll be careful not to heat the olive oil too much before browning the chicken. I think that’s where I went wrong.

Yesterday was Day 14, and I had a blast going to the Ulster County Musicians Network meetup at Skytop Steakhouse & Brewing Company. I met 3-4 people there whom I’ve met virtually, on Facebook or Twitter, but have never met face to face. Like Jude DeFalco, Stephen Crawford, and Neil Alexander. I also got to talk with Peter Aaron, a great bio writer and the musician whose gig I ended up NOT going to on that Comedy of Errors day, Day 8 of this project. Yes, he’s still talking to me.

So, what will my new experience be today? Hmmmm….

As a writer, sometimes things just flow easily and vibrantly onto the page. And sometimes, they don’t. And for some reason, when they don’t, if feel as if they never will, ever again, that your entire career is over, and you’ll never write anything worth reading ever again.

That was my day on Thursday.

But despite this despair, I kept my commitment and I did something new. I dragged my bon vivant Mark out onto our slightly sloping deck and we each had a glass of wonderful, Uptick Zinfandel from California, as we watched the drama and beauty of our neighborhood dance below us. Two lean young black boys riding bikes stopped just below us and silently, as if they had been choreographed, exchanged bikes, and then rode on. It was silent, graceful and beautiful.

Cars roared by, some of them playing loud rap music. Two young teenage girls in skintight jeans walked past towards Spring Street. And while I’d had a tough day, sitting outside in the summer evening, feeling the thick, humid air on my skin, I knew my mood would pass and all would be well.

And then, there was yesterday. Friday, July 9. I had my “new experience” all planned because I was going to go see Peter Aaron perform at the Beahive in Kingston. I’d never heard Peter’s Avondale Airforce, nor had I heard live music at the Beahive, so I was set. New experience locked in!

Plus, Mark wanted to go Market Market in Rosendale after Peter’s show because starting at 9:00 pm, there was going to be “This Ain’t Your Mama’s Karaoke,” and listening to Mark sing karaoke would be yet another new experience for me.

But what ended up happening was one unplanned, unexpected, silly mishap after another.

It started with a surprise. Mark decided that we needed yet another new experience to accompany the one I’d already had planned, so he told me, “We’re going somewhere before we go hear Peter, so be ready to leave by 6:45.” Okay. You betcha!

It didn’t take long for me to realize, once we were in the car and headed north on Broadway in Kingston, that he was taking me to the Carnival that was happening at the Kingston Plaza. What Mark hadn’t planned on was all the traffic delays due to the fact there was also a children’s parade scheduled that evening. By the time we got to the Carnival, we didn’t have a lot of time to spend there if we were to make the 8:00 pm curtain for Peter Aaron’s show.

But we made the best of it. We walked through the Carnival, taking in the spectacle of all the rides, like the Scrambler (which had been unfortunately renamed the “Sizzler”), the huge, wide spaceship-shaped ride where the floor drops out and you’re mashed into the sides by centrifugal force, the Fun House, the stomach-wrenching, upside down Ferris wheel thingy, and those crazy, P-shaped cages that can flip over and upside down as they rotate round and round and round.

But we didn’t go on any rides because we knew we had to be at Peter’s show soon. So we walked, ate a little junk food, and then headed to the show.

When we got to the Beahive, Peter and his musical partner were outside. We went up to them, introduced ourselves (since I’d only met Peter through email, never in person), and that’s when he told us that they were on second; there was a warm-up group going on first.

“What?” I said, “you mean we could have stayed at the Carnival for another hour?” I was only half kidding. I couldn’t believe we’d rushed over to the Beahive only to find out we’d have to wait another hour to hear Peter play. Why hadn’t the Beahive Meetup announcement made that clear? I was disappointed only because we’d cut short a fun, spontaneous excursion to make this show, and the show wouldn’t start for more than an hour.

Mark and I considered having a glass of wine at Elephant, a nearby tapas and wine bar, until Peter went on, but we were torn because we also wanted to get to Rosendale for “This Ain’t Your Mama’s Kararoke.” So, we decided to let go of hearing Peter and head off to Market Market so we could have a glass of wine there and settle in before the karaoke began.

I hated to miss Peter, since I’d been planning on this experience for weeks now, but this night had ideas of its own as the comedy of errors continued.

At Market Market, we grabbed a couple of seats at the bar which overlooked the kitchen and the automatic Jiffy Pop popcorn-making machine (an amazing, old tin machine that shakes a Jiffy Pop aluminum pan across a heating element until the popcorn starts popping wildly, at which point it stops, automatically shuts off the heat and let’s the popcorn pop like crazy. I swear, it is worth the entire trip to Market Market just to see this thing work.) A drum set and microphones had been set up, which seemed odd for a night of karaoke. But maybe this is what they meant by “not your Mama’s Karaoke.” We had about 45 minutes until it was scheduled to start, so we ordered some food.

Then Mark decided to take a look around outside. He wasn’t gone 3 minutes when he showed up at the restaurant door, curling his index finger at me, signaling me to follow him. When I joined him outside, he pointed to a flyer posted on the wall outside the door. It was a picture of some guy with today’s date, July 9, and the time, 9:00 pm. Seems that this wasn’t the night for “This Ain’t Your Mama’s Karaoke” but was in fact the night for two folk artists to perform. We just looked at each other and laughed. This whole evening had been one ill-timed mistake after another. But now it was funny.

And just as we’d regretted not staying longer at the Carnival, now we regretted not having stayed to hear Peter perform at the Beahive. But hey, what are you going to do?

We stayed to hear a couple of songs by the guy whose face was on the poster (I don’t remember his name), and then headed home. I convinced Mark to swing by the Holiday Inn where our friend Joe was playing drums with a less than great band. Joe’s wife Diane had told me she would be there, so we figured, okay, why not? The whole night had been so strange anyway, the Holiday Inn couldn’t make it any stranger.

Turns out Diane wasn’t there after all, but Joe was playing so we stayed long enough to hear a couple of songs. And as we were walking to the car to go home, the sky filled with the pops, booms and bright, shimmering lights. Fireworks were being set off near the Carnival, but we could see them clearly from the parking lot. We stopped and watched until the display was over then headed home.

Yesterday, I cheated.

I was so worn out from experiencing new things on Saturday, that yesterday, Sunday, I rested. A lot. I figured that since I experienced more than two new things on Saturday, I could claim one of them as my Sunday new experience.

Saturday night, I went to the Bearsville Theater (I just realized that there are a lot of “bears” showing up in my new experiences. And turtles) to hear a band I’d never heard before: Media. They were amazing, different, entrancing. I fell madly in love with the drummer, Zachery Alford, whose drumming brought me cry to tears at one point… in a good way. There was something so locked in, so alive, so connected about the way he played. Strong, without being showy.

Before the show, my bon vivant and I had some time to kill so we walked over to the Little Bear Cafe (see, another BEAR!), not to be confused with the Bear Cafe, which is nearby. The Little Bear was not only a new experience, it was pretty crappy one as well. Bad wine, horrible service, and a nasty host.

We still had more time to kill, so I initiated yet another new experience, but due to the sacred nature of the experience, I really can’t talk about here.

So there! Lots of new experiences on Saturday, which allowed me to take Sunday off.

But today is Monday. It’s a holiday, July 5, and my new experience was going to see Iron Man II with the always wonderful Robert Downey Jr. It was great! I loved the first Iron Man, and this sequel was as good. Not only was the movie a new experience but so was the theatre. I’d never been to the Regal Cinemas in Kingston before, and I have to say, I was pleasantly surprised. They were so clean and comfortable. I hope they stay that way.

So far, I’m kicking ass at this 31 Days of Experiencing New Things! And I’m liking it!

What will tomorrow bring?

Seems a colleague of mine, Stacy Brice, has been offering different 30 day and 31 day projects, all of them fun or inspiring. June’s project was 30 days of deepening friendships. But July’s project is 31 Days of Experiencing New Things, and for some reason, it spoke to me. I signed up, and I am committed to doing something new every day for the month of July.

Yesterday, which was Day One for me, since I started a day late, I went to the Bear Mountain Zoo, a small zoo in Bear Mountain State Park that consists of  animals that have been injured or rescued. I especially loved the owls, the hawks and… the turtles! Oh, and the porcupines! I’d never seen a porcupine in the prickley flesh before, and they are big! And bumbling, and very sweet.

Today, Day Two, I met a friend of a friend who lives in Accord. While we’ve emailed each other a few times since I moved here to Kingston (she lives in Accord), I’d never met her face to face. So, this morning at the Kingston Farmer’s Market, we met and talked in the new patio next to Maxwell’s Pizza on North Front St. as we watched people buy organic vegetables and other goodies. It was lovely!

When I first moved to Kingston, I swore I was going to take time to explore, visit the surrounding towns and sights, and get to know this strange new place. But I haven’t done it. At least, not in the way I thought I would. I’ve been so busy with work and life and love and settling into a new place that my adventures have been mostly limited to New York City. But with this new 31 Day project, I’m determined to get out of the house and… experience new things! How fun!

I’ll be reporting on my adventures here at NancyOutLoud.

What about you? Do you want to join me? Sure, it’s July 3 already, but hop in and commit to experiencing something new every day this month. It can be something simple, like calling someone on the phone rather than emailing them. Or trying a new kind of tea or coffee. It doesn’t have to be a big production or take a lot of time.

If you interested, join the project on Facebook or at the 31 Day site. And let me know what new things you’re doing!

Here’s a snippet of video from gig day on June 24, plus a sneak into the dressing room of the Rrazz Room featuring Linda Kosut and moi.

I had so much fun making this video (once I wrestled iMovie to the ground and made it scream “Uncle!”) about my recent excursion to New York City to be at the MAC Awards (Manhattan Association of Cabaret and Clubs). My friends Shaynee Rainbolt and Terese Genecco were both nominated for awards, so I HAD to be there. Mario Cantone and Leslie Uggams and The Bobs also make an appearance in this video.

So… watch it! I made it just for you!

New gigs on the horizon, including a monthly gig at Savona’s Trattoria in Kingston, AND… I’ll be at the Rrazz Room in San Francisco on Monday, June 14! Yep, I’m flying on back to California to share the stage with Linda Kosut in “When the Natives Get Restless” – our name for this jazz cabaret about …. well, you’ll have to come and find out!

Three blocks up, two blocks over to a truly great space on Hone Street.

And in many ways, this move was more dramatic than my move cross country.

I’m still in the neighborhood I love, the Rondout, but I no longer have to suffer through the noisy DJ parties that Mariners and Ship To Shore would have on Friday or Saturday nights to all hours of the morning. No more am I awoken by rumbling trucks on the way to the salvage yard or by the uber obnoxious Harleys with straight pipes. No, now I live above an architect’s office in an 1800’s brick building surrounding by churches that chime sweetly on the hour. But not ALL hours!

And I signed a year lease this time. Made a commitment to stay. And the same week I moved into my new and amazing place, my husband made the first payment to buy me out of our house in Sebastopol. The timing was uncanny. Symbolic. And at times, hard to handle.

As I took a walk this morning, my first in a long while because the weather has been snowy and slick, I realized, I live here now. I really am here, if not for good then for a good long while. I visited my favorite cemetery, now covered in snow, and I took the photo you see here on this post. “This Way Out.” Great sign to post in a cemetery, don’t you think?

When I got back to my new space, the New York Times (the weekend edition) was waiting for me. My first at-home delivery. I curled up on the couch in the stream of the sun coming through the tall living room windows, drank coffee and read about Corrine Baily Rae and all the new movies coming out. Maxie cat joined me in the sun while Mark connected cables to his console in the studio.

My new home.

Like angels bending down to kiss me, the most magical snow fell late last night, Christmas night, giving this California girl her first white Christmas. Big, fluffy flakes as big as mice floated slowly out of the dark sky to cover everything, quiet everything. After a day of watching a pay-per-view movie (“Julie & Julia” – which was great, by the way), eating popcorn and feeling ever so slightly sorry for myself, this opulent snow, unexpected, unpredicted by any online weather service, swirled gracefully down to whisper, “Ah, all is well. All is beautiful. Shush now, shush now. No worries now.”

Wasting no time, I slipped my fluffy-sock shod feet into a pair of clogs, threw on my coat and hat, and bolted out into the snow. The silence, as if the air had thickened into unseen insulation, hit me first. Then, the beauty of white butterflies falling, twirling to the ground. I stomped into the fluffy white, listening to the sound of my steps as they crunched into the freshly fallen snow… a sound unlike any other.

When it snows late at night, the dark streets become completely white, blending into the sidewalks, curbs and meridians. Snow ploughs and cars haven’t yet had the chance to slash through the smooth, snowy cover. And the light from street lamps seems to sprinkle the snow with sparkles.

Even after going back inside, my hat and coat covered in white, I sat by my window, looking straight up into the sky, watching the slow dance of snow fall from the darkness. I wanted to save it, to capture it, to make it forever mine, this magical sight. This Christmas gift from the angels.

Shush now. Quiet your heart. All is well.