Get Ready. Get Set.

Quick: what is the one thing you want to happen most in your life and as soon as possible?

Now, are you actually ready for it to happen?  Are you set?

It was the spring of 2000.  I was a college student intern at a hip-hop music record label in Philadelphia.  I know...my English department adviser wondered the same exact thing.  Why did I want to intern there in the first place and not somewhere like a magazine or publishing house like other (read: normal) English majors?

"I love music and I would love to see how things happen behind the scenes."

This was true.  But only in part.  See, at that point I did love music.  But, if we're being completely honest here, the reason I loved music was because I was also completely convinced I was going to be the next Christina Aguilera.  Or Britney Spears.  Or some other singer that was popular at that time.  Heck, I would have settled on being someone's back-up singer.  You get the picture: I just wanted to sing.

I had always loved to sing.  My Dad told me that ever since I was little he could always tell when I was around because he could always hear me singing somewhere in the house.  I did every school musical.  I danced along to every Whitney Houston video, lip syncing "I Wanna Dance with Somebody" with an almost eerie accuracy. Sometimes I'd be singing and not even realize it.  It just came naturally, like I was on auto-pilot.

So senior year I got honest with myself.  It didn't matter that I had majored in English: I was going to pursue a singing career.  I worked with a legit voice coach.  I practiced.  I also then positioned myself as an intern at the record label, the same label who had represented Lauryn Hill and the Fugees (and Kriss Kross, too, believe it or not).  So they knew what they were doing.

I worked hard and kept my head down.  I fetched lunches for the producers. I answered phones.  I listened to bad demo after bad demo of rappers who sounded less like the-next-big-thing and more like tone deaf cats who were dying a slow and painful death.  I also made sure I got to know as many people that came through there as I could. One day it was Blackstreet.  The next it was Eve.  Who knew who I could possibly cross paths with?  Who knew when I might get my big break?

One person I met was a rather prominent producer named Big Bubb.  Big Bubb was always kind. (He also would say to me, "Girl, you a dime" on a fairly regular basis--meaning he thought I was pretty--but that's besides the point).  We would talk about music and life and just say hello from time to time.  He definitely knew the music business better than most.  In a world chock full of wannabes, he was refreshing to be around.

One morning I was doing the usual glamorous tasks one does while interning at a record label. Translation: I was at a kitchenette sink washing out the coffee mugs and bongs left behind from the previous night's recording session. Standing there at the sink, doing something so mindless, I did what I usually do.  I went on auto-pilot and started to sing.  I think it was some *NSYNC song, to be honest, and the acoustics in that little corner of the label were exceptionally good.  So I belted it.  The company's space was huge and built along a ridiculously long hallway.  I knew I had some room to do things like this without interfering with any of the recording studios.

"Who's singing?"  I heard someone yell from around the corner, a large room away.   The voice was curious, not angry.  Instantly I recognized it.  It was Big Bubb, working in a room nearby.

I fell silent.  My cheeks got warm.  Don't ask me why but I suddenly clammed up.  Here was a chance for me to be discovered and I was not jumping at it.

I continued to wash the dishes and zoned out again shortly thereafter.  I then mindlessly started to sing like before.

"WHO IS THAT?"  Big Bubb asked again, now really curious.  I didn't hear him making any moves to actually see who the "mystery singer" was but there was this tone in his voice, an interest, a real and happy curiosity.  This was my moment.  This is what I had hoped for.  If I walked around the corner and told him it was me, anything could happen.  And in my gut I knew it.  So what did I do?

I got quiet again.  I finished washing the bongs.  I didn't say a thing.  By the time I was done, Big Bubb had gotten a call on his phone and left.

The moment had passed and I had let it slip right by.  I told my sister later what had happened and I think, if we had been face-to-face instead of on the phone, she would have strangled me.

Why did I do that?  Isn't that what I had wanted?

I pondered those questions as I eventually finished up my internship, graduated and recorded a demo on my own.  I went on to audition for a couple of production companies (one being Lance Bass's of, you guessed it, *NSYNC fame...and yes, the humor of that was not lost on me).

The good news is that I had a really fun time still pursuing my original goal.  The better part? Something pretty remarkable happened each time I would get up to perform: more than wanting to sing, I found myself wanting to make people laugh even more. Seriously.  When I could occasionally crack a joke and make the crowd giggle before my song, it was like a firework going off in my heart.  And whatever it was, I wanted more of it.

So I know why I did what I did way back when.  I wasn't ready.  More, I wasn't set.  Singing, though I loved it, wasn't what I really wanted. I didn't talk to Big Bubb because somewhere deep down I kind of knew that.  By staying quiet, I accidentally loosened my grip a little on what I thought should happen and left room for what was meant to happen.  For me, it was more a case of the "what" than the "when".

In case you're wondering, I still sing.  And it still makes me happy--the acoustics in my apartment are amazing!  But my writing makes me ecstatic.  Truly like a firework in my heart.