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Hi! Thanks for checking in! I am Alex Nicole and I am a singer-songwriter and guitarist on a mission to save the world one song at a time!

Same Love 

June 26th was an important day in my household. I set the alarm for 7am to hear the live announcement of the Supreme Court’s ruling on prop 8 and DOMA. Soon after that, my soon-to-be wife and I were whooping, hollering, laughing, crying, and cheering from our bed as the news poured out that these laws were both being struck down. Even though we live in Oregon (and had already begun our plans for a summer wedding in Washington), this decision was everything to us. Again, we were back on the path to equal rights. Thank God! Not to mention thank you, SCOTUS!

So, here I am two months later a happily married woman and I just feel so blessed to call Alma my wife. We’ve always said how lucky we were to be living at this point in time and in this country where even if politically we might be a bit behind, we still had so many supporters (straight and gay alike) rooting for us. And now we’re married and even more committed than ever to respecting each other, our relationship, and the institution of marriage. What could be better than that?

“You are the sun. You are the rain. You are the stars in my eyes. You are the sun. You are the sun.” That’s the chorus of my new song which is dedicated to my new wife. You don’t think it’s too gay, do you?

 

 

 

 


Love and Loss 

July was a weird month. It was a month of the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. I got married for one. That was good…no, that was great. It changed me. I married the love of my life. But I will talk about that another time. Tonight, I want to…need to…write about the loss part. I lost my grandma. My grandmother, Virginia Froeling Norris, my father’s mother, died at the age of 88 on Saturday, July 20, 2013. She was my last living grandparent. And she, like my Grandma Florrie 26 years earlier, died in the month of July.

My Grandma Ginny always lived far away from me. I lived in Miami; she lived in Baltimore. I never had that consistent, nearby relationship like I did with my mom’s parents. It is what it is. My younger cousins got the benefit of being geographically close to her…my brothers and I, not so much. My grandma was wonderful, but I guess we all say that, don’t we? But she was. She was strong and smart. She was no-nonsense. She was a nurse and a teacher (at the nursing school). She was a pianist and a singer. She was a confidant.

Some of my fondest memories growing up are of my Baltimore family (including her) coming down most summers to Sarasota, FL. My Dad, brother, and I would drive up the four hours or so to be with them for a few days in some rental on the beach. We would go deep sea fishing, body surfing and swimming, we’d watch movies, play cards, and just be a normal family for those few sweet days together. Those were special times and I look back on them wistfully and think that times were simpler back then. That is how it is, I know. But they were good times. And I miss them. And I miss her.

My Grandma was strong. Did I mention that? Once she entered her eighties, though, things got a bit rough. She developed Parkinson’s and, well, that disease just sucks. I lost my Grandpa Jimmy (my mother’s father) to the same thing. It was pretty tough to see this woman…this oh-so-strong woman…deteriorate slowly. I mean, this is a woman that traveled the seven continents for god’s sake. And I didn’t even see the worst of it. I have grieved the loss of my grandma since way before she was actually gone. But I am lucky to say that I got to see her for her 88th birthday celebration where we all got together for a mini family reunion and basically spent that Thanksgiving weekend honoring her and loving her, while acknowledging that it was the end.

Safe journey, Grandma. You are forever with me.


Goodbye, Miami. Hello, Portland. 

Alma and I have officially been in Oregon for four months now. We love it here. Technically we live in Beaverton. Not Portland. Some would say that we are not actually living the Portlandia dream, but to us we are. Just because we happen to be living in the suburbs with our dog and cat and our little side yard, doesn’t mean we can’t easily venture into the “big city” twenty minutes from here whenever we want. Besides, Beaverton rocks…hehe.

We are starting to, I daresay, make friends out here. So far, everyone has been super nice. But more than that, we are really beginning to find our niche and that is cool. I must say the mentality of an Oregonian is quite different than that of a Floridian. Maybe it’s an east coast/west coast thing or rather a southeast/northwest thing. Who knows? A lot of them are activists and artists. They are intellectuals. They are conscientious. They are green. And well, suffice it to say, we have to pick up our dog Amy’s poop OR ELSE.

As for my decision to come here, I had just gotten to the point in my life where living anywhere other than Miami sounded pretty ideal to me. That being said I don’t hate Miami. I used to think I did. I would bitch and moan about it whenever I got the chance. I’m sure it got annoying for some. “Ok, then, just leave already!”  But to be fair, there’s a huge part of the population that loves it: the Beach, the clubs, Midtown, the Gables. They believe that Miami’s experiencing a Renaissance of sorts. Ok, fair enough. Not my kind of Renaissance, but ok.

But, no, I don’t hate Miami. How could I hate the town I was born in, made a life in, fell in love in? And so, yes, one day I called a truce and made a pact with my hometown. I would leave it and see as much of the world as possible. And when I would pop back into town (missing it more than I ever thought I could!), it would welcome me back with open arms. That’s the plan anyway.


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White Eagle

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White Eagle, 836 N. Russell St., Portland

 

With performances by Alan Alexander III, Urban Wildlife, Jennifer Stills & Eric Vaughn (of Jenneric), Erin Adkisson, and Alex Nicole

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