"We accept all races of cupcakes!" -O. Simons

(none of this is an april fool's joke, fyi.)

There's a lot of new thoughts and songs buzzing around in my head right now and it's distracting. I used to make a lot of sticky note lists of things to do, songs to download, movies to watch, and it only made me more stressed out when I couldn't cross those things off. I had to hold on to every list, making sure I remembered whatever seemed so important at the time. I sort of went back to that habit at the beginning last week, but instead of to-do lists, the lists were more or less thoughts I was pondering. Apparently I ponder a lot now? I guess so. Anyway, this will probably be really jumpy and random but I wanted to get a few down.

It hasn't necessarily been overwhelmingly stressful, but it has been busy. I've been waking up disoriented and forgetting what day it is and what my schedule is for that day. I've taken to making everyday things "events" on my phone so that an alarm goes off at a certain time and tells me what's going on. Plus, scuba class is so much more exciting to attend when it is announced with the Samson & Son theme song playing out of my phone's speakers! But even with all these insignificant events, there has been a lot of time to do things I've been putting off. Lately I've been turning into a senior citizen. I have done nothing but nap and read lately and I've really enjoyed both activities. I'm conducting a shameless love affair with a turntable and Dean Martin records. Also, I'm baking at least every other day and I'm giving Betty Crocker a run for her money. Yesterday I bought knitting needles and I'm actually kinda excited about knitting things when I get the hang of it.

Let's please just all consider that last sentence. Seriously? Yeah.

I was reading old livejournal entries today (after napping and Oprah) and I think there was so much I missed. Thoughts I had, thoughts other people had-- I think I skimmed over a few or they didn't all make sense at the time. Some of it's intensely bittersweet to read, actually. Things I was so idealistic about suddenly don't seem all they were cracked up to be. There is so very much about life that I've now learned since my older ramblings, and I'm not even talking about looking back so far to the days of my 2004 posts (let's not even go there, actually). The most striking thing is that even now there's some fantastically worded sentences written years ago by other people or about other people that can still tear me up a little or give me butterflies in my stomach. It's weird, you'd think I'd be over these things, but it's like a movie you keep rewatching and cry and laugh every time. Words are powerful even after the hundredth time you say them.

There's one thought that's been in my head for far far too long and I swear if I don't get it down I'll explode. I think what really unnerved me one particular time in recent past was that someone told me indirectly that my affection for something seemed false. That my love for a particular object was not real or it was all a show. That all this energy I had exerted into absorbing this thing, these melodies that were permeating and seemingly stuck in my thoughts, was untrue. I didn't know what to say; I didn't know how to convince someone that I wasn't trying this music out like homework or a task I had to be forced to complete. I wasn't forcing myself to like it and I wasn't grasping onto it because I wanted any form of prize in the end. I remember laying down on my floor, trying to push expectations and preconceived notions out of my mind, and pressing play and really listening. Sometimes I think my musical methods are crazy to anyone else, really, but this is exactly how it happened. I remember laying there and feeling like dancing. I remember almost feeling nostalgic, thinking that I wished I had heard it sooner because each track seemed to feel well worn-in. I wished I could meet the people in the stories and I wanted to hear more of it even after the 47 minutes ended. It was a feeling I'd really only felt a few times before, and feeling that strongly over a few measures of notes always excites me. So, I latched onto those notes and tempos and measures. I found myself talking about the album and playing it for other people. I would hear something that reminded me of a line and instantly I'd be playing a guitar solo in my head. I would sing it and feel amazed that lyrics that seemed so personally written, like a story I'd somehow been dropped into, would suddenly mean something to me personally. I felt this impassioned about it, but then I heard that it appeared like I was just pretending. That maybe I was just halfway sidestepping around this album and really I was only listening to it to make myself seem more likable or desirable. That all this was superficially for someone else. I didn't know what to make of this or how to defend myself or the thing I now loved. Maybe I didn't have pages of history and I couldn't answer every question about it, nor had I even listened to the very tip of the iceberg of an extensive catalog, but I knew it meant a great deal to me. That never fully resolved, apparently, as I'm still talking about it now, but I've just made the decision to drop it. 7 songs in particular are important to me and that's enough.

There's a few future plans I have planned out and heard more on lately, but overall, I'm just trusting God and putting it all in his hands. I hardly know everything, but what do I know? I've got a book list to read and a set of records and box sets of LPs that Olivia is letting me borrow that I can't even believe I am actually hearing and amaze me. There's also a graduation date to look forward to. And larger than that, I've got an intense passion for music that overwhelms me sometimes, a family and group of friends that I run out fantastic adjectives for and a desire to serve in some way. I know that those will be there no matter where I'm living or what I'm doing years from now, and actually, yes, that's very reassuring.

"I will be with you when you pass through the waters, and when you pass through them, they will not overwhelm you." Isaiah 43:2

they will not overwhelm you
they will not overwhelm you
they will not overwhelm you
they will not overwhelm you
they will not overwhelm you
they will not overwhelm you
they will not overwhelm you
they will not overwhelm you

Really gotta keep keeping that in mind.

Today's executive decision: Music is my boyfriend.

No, really.

Apply Some Pressure

Dear Mark Ronson,

I would just like to let you know that whenever your schedule is free, I'm here. We can remix a Phantom Planet album or we can maybe take an old Al Green song and give it a new kick. I am not opposed to adding the Dap-Kings in there somewhere, also. Please consider that a) I love you b) I think you're wonderful and c) I would probably do anything you asked of me. I know you've got a thing for Lily Allen and Amy Winehouse, so I can stock up on Nike hi-tops and black liquid eyeliner in a flash if that'll do it for ya. I have your album on repeat and I've had it playing for months now.....in other words, let's duet.

Sincerely,
Kelsey Manning

P.S. I am considering changing my name to Valerie, also. It would be more convenient, I know.

Cause Maybe

I heard it for the first time in forever today. I don't think I attached much to the original version of the song. There was a slower cover that I basked in for years and kept to myself and tried to explain to other people but saw they lost interest. It's almost frustrating because the lyrics don't come outright and tell you, and to be completely honest I still have no idea what the entire concept of being someone's wonderwall even means. I know that I want a wonderwall, though. I've heard it a lot, different versions and covers and mash-ups and they all resonate in different ways, but there was this one moment that really brought it all home.

It was last year, five days before I turned 17 and it was humid outside, even more so since we had lawn seats. I wasn't expecting too much other than the simple fact that I knew I'd be entertained. They weren't the greatest band, but they were upbeat and they kept the crowd happy. Jenny was ecstatically multi-tasking-- taking pictures and video while singing along to every word. Carolyn and Laura were crossing fingers that the best songs were played. They last song was 'Look After You' and it turned into one big sing-a-long. The weird part was that the first concert that mattered in my life? Same thing happened, same exact song, only a much smaller crowd and The Fray was the opening band at that time....but, I digress. They were playing 'Look After You' and you could tell that it was the song of the night. The song all the couples swoon to and the song that no one takes a picture during, so as not to break the atmosphere. Suddenly, out of nowhere, this disco ball drops down, the song changes and just when I think they can't make it even more cheesy, Issac shouts out, "Sing it like you're at your high school prom!" Those first few chords and Laura spills her drink and screams. It's the song that mattered to her, to everyone, in high school. We're all singing and you can tell half the place doesn't know the words because they all look twelve, but we're all in this moment because we know it's big. And lemme tell you, the face that Laura made on "Cause maybe you're gonna be the one that saves me" was spectacular. I'm pretty sure we were all off-key but it didn't matter, because it was something that we couldn't have predicted or known and it hit hard, but it felt good.

It always amazes me how a song can hold that much over your life, like it's a part of you. It can matter that much, can wreck you that much, so much so that when you hear it in the car, you have to pull over, because you go back to those memories, that one spot where that song was exactly what you needed. You want to cry and shout and laugh all at the same time for that place in your life that it brings back. You're pulled over and it's a few beats and voices and nothing means more than drowning in that mix of chords. It doesn't matter how popular it is or what it means or doesn't mean to someone else, it still can take control of you for those few minutes and your life is affected by four minutes of sound.

Cause after all, you're my wonderwall.

I don't know

It's frustrating living through something else, but it's common. It's as if your own memories aren't good enough, aren't shiny and edited well enough, so you cling on and hold tightly to something that you didn't create, but that resonates deeply within you.

Do people that write hit songs really know how big they are going to be? Does someone really wake up with a melody in their ear and write it down and then two weeks later that same melody is in the ears of millions?

It's easy to love an object- it requires nothing back. You can pour into it and it's not going to leave your side. You can be confident that the same few minutes of sound and picture will look and sound the same as it did the day before. That's why loving someone takes a whole lot more. Because that someone could change their mind, could leave or be forced away and you would end up giving all of this to someone that won't give you anything back. It's a scary thought.

500(+) words about 1.25.08.

I made a playlist for the occasion. It was full of some gems that needed no explanation, some that had been heard before, some that seemed extremely relevant and some that I knew would play in the background while we talked over their meaning. I was pretty jumpy, which probably was a little bit of nerves and excitement and hoping that the concept of will call did really exist in the world. Favorite unbalanced coat? Check. Concert dress code attire of black? Check. Directions? Credit Card? Game Face? Check. Check. Check. The nervous feeling also stemmed a little bit from the fact that I wanted this concert to be wonderful so that it would be worth it; worth the drive, worth the fact that she'd be in Austin the next day. Needless to say, even with a four-lane traffic pile-up, we arrived at what would normally be considered embarrassingly early, but the idea of being ashamed of being there an hour early wore off instantly when we saw her. HER. Miss Sharon Jones, in a baseball cap and glasses, carrying her own monitors inside. The woman packs a serious punch when she's got a horn section behind her, but outside she looked pretty normal. After freaking out and attempting to stay warm in the car for a few minutes, it was time to endure the outside in a maneuver that would be all worth it.

The details until the show started can get boring, but they're still clear: 1) Watching numerous people walk up to the door and then quickly walk back out realizing the doors were not open yet and the show was sold out. 2) Huddling for heat and speculating about the lives and bits of audible conversation from other concert goers 3) Attempting to catch a bit of "Taxes" that was played for sound check and 4) Asking repeatedly, "Can we go inside now?" and being told, "No, we will respect the venue and it will respect us." (Actually, the whole respect thing turned out 100% true. Who would've thought, right? Thank you.)

One x marked on each of our hands in green Sharpie, we walked in to a small room that looked more like a local band stage than anything. Staking claim on stage left, we waited and grooved to the sounds of Otis Redding and Sam Cooke. Normally, Sam and Otis wouldn't even be considered for opening music, as it's universally known that your opening music can't overshadow and outdo your main act, but this show wasn't going to have to compete with anyone or anything. The opening band was interesting, The Ivan Milev Band to namedrop. They were humble and foreign and actually didn't suck, considering they were so different. While accordion solos are impressive and something my ears don't hear too often, I was still nervous and excited, wondering if in a few minutes I really was going to be standing, or rather, dancing 3 feet away from one of the most amazing women to ever pick up a microphone. I took a few pictures and danced as much as you really can to irregular meters and accordion blasts and clapped when they were through, but I was still on edge. We made some conversation and then "A Change Is Gonna Come" permeated the air and it was probably one of the greatest sing-alongs I've been a part of. You could feel the excitement, like something big was looming and it couldn't have been more accurate.

The Dap-Kings took the stage and picked up a rhythm that made even the whitest feet start tappin'. The energy was contagious and every instrument wailed in the best way. We were practically in the laps on the guitar players at some points and I had no objections. The music was loud but not in your face and just enough jazz to start something. And then, of course, after a well-deserved introduction by Binky Griptite, she took the stage.

She's 51 years old and 4'11, but you'd never even know it. She's wearing heels and the same dress she wore on an album cover shoot and I'm nearly melting already at the amount of soul in the first note she sings. Her voice is smooth but it's got this bitterness to it that makes every song feel so raw and funky all at the same time. She can't stay still and neither can I when she asks "How Do You Let A Good Man Down?" and makes Marvin Gaye look like a boy scout. You can tell she's worked at this for such a long time, the way the songs seem so much a part of her personality and the way she brings her past and her life story into her dancing. She belts out "Nobody's Baby" and the crowd is hers. We're singing back-ups and call-and-response and she's overpowering every amazing instrument backing her. Somewhere in the midst of all of this, she decides to invite someone onstage and reaches for Kevin. She's asking him his name and then my name gets thrown into the mix and suddenly she's singing "Be Easy" with the words "Kevin" and "Kelsey" thrown in at appropriate times. I'm yelling and dancing and laughing all at the same time because there's no way this is really happening. She sings with such ease (no pun intended) and every note is like honey. She's dancing and Kevin is dancing and I'm dancing and as cheesy as it is, my heart is happy and I'm so happy that this woman that I love and am inspired by is face to face with the guy that makes me feel butterflies on a regular basis. Kevin gets a kiss on the cheek from her and we haven't even gotten five songs in yet. She treats every word of every song importantly and she connects with every single person there. Not even the drunk girl she invites on stage ruins anything and Sharon is such a little fireball through everything. "100 Days, 100 Nights" gets a good response and my feet can't stop moving and the soul of the song is overwhelming. She ends her set and the band keeps playing, but I know it can't be over. After a few minutes of pleading, she's back on the stage and then she does something that makes all the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end: she nails the first few notes to "It's a Man's Man's Man's World" and tears up the song in a way that would make James Brown smile. I am completely astounded by her. She sings a few older songs and is still as jumpy as ever and then she leaves us on a high note with the band still doing justice.

I can't collect thoughts afterwards except the fact that it all really happened and I see a tiny little crowd around a familiar-looking dress. People ask to take pictures of Kevin and I and I feel a little ridiculous. We make our way over to her and she's the most gracious little woman I've heard in long time, ushering everyone over to the merch table and thanking people for coming. She's tiny and everyone is taller than her but she has an enormous presence about her. We follow her and get pushed to the front of the line where she says, "Kevin and Kelsey!" and I die a little inside. We take a picture and I thank her in words that don't really match up to my real gratitude and she kisses me on the cheek. We take a few more pictures but I'm still in awe of the whole thing and I can't believe it all happened.

The entire way home I can't even handle listening to music but I've got this goofy grin on my face, one hand on the wheel and a soul so full of good music that it could burst.

This Happened:

Naturally

"Falling Asleep To The Sounds Of Sirens" by Kelsey Manning, avaliable on iTunes next week.

2008: My life is ridiculous and wonderful and insane all at the same time.



Cross your fingers for Friday: