Oh, Life.
Um, so I have somehow gotten a job as a promoter for a French rock band here in Paris. I DO NOT KNOW HOW THIS HAPPENED. All I can say is that life, when you least expect it, turns out be... ridiculous. So... rewind like 3 days, and here is my life:
Thursday: I find an ad for a "tour manager" for a Parisian rock band. Despite my lack of experience, despite the language barrier, and despite the fact that I do not live here permanently, I called.
Friday: I leave town for London.
Sunday: I return to a voicemail from the lead singer of the band, asking when I can get together.
Monday: I make an appointment with the lead singer and guitarist for Tuesday. I also somehow score a Killers ticket for... well, MARCH, but the point is I am going.
Tuesday: I wake up to a call from my program telling my grammar class today is cancelled, excellent karma since I was supposed to have a presentation today anyway. So I sleep in, get up for the interview, go to the lead singer’s apartment, and love it. The whole band, apparently, thought I was going to be a guy (thanks, unisex american name), but they were stoked about my (meager) experience, love that I am american, and are willing to help me out with whatever I need. Lead singer is highly bilingual, lived in the US for a few years, but the others speak English about the way I speak french, that is to say, not well. Which is fine, because we can get by with each other, but it’s pretty insane. The lead singer is about 5 years older than me, and she works full-time as a model, just does the band on the side. Intimidating? To the max.
Basically, my life is turning into "Almost Famous," and I am totally ok with that. Though I suppose it’s maybe more like "Rock Your World," since I am in Europe and it is not the 70's.
Oh, and the highlight of the meeting with them today was this conversation:
LeadSinger: "It might be easiest for you to communicate with the club owners if you go TO the club, since I know the phone is probably harder for you to understand."
Blair: "Yeah, definitely, that would probably be the way to go."
LeadSinger: "When you go, though, I think you have a great look, you are very chic and have your own style, I can tell, which is great, but when you go, you might want to dress a little bit hipster, you know, black jeans, boots or Converses, or something, because I really do like your look, but I know these clubs cater mostly to a hipster kind of rocker crowd, and it would probably make a difference, you know?"
Blair: "Right, good idea." [Thinking to herself, "WHY DID I CHOOSE THIS OUTFIT??"]
Last night I tried on every outfit in my closet trying to figure out what to wear, finally decided to go typical Parisian, military skirt, high boots, turquoise camisole, and a white wool sweater thing– it was a very typical Blair-in-Paris outfit, but not particularly Blair-in-real-life, since I left all my rock star/real life clothes in the US. So the poor lead singer thinks she just hired some fancy-dressing American, when the truth is that I disregarded all my black clothes for the interview because I didn’t want to look like I was too casual. Bad call.
Nevertheless, I have a job. Doing what I want to do for the rest of my life. In a foreign country. For a band that is decidedly decent. And basically, all this means that it is time for me to stop writing and start dancing around my room to 30 Seconds To Mars.
I am off to do that, and I bid you, as always,
Farewell,
Blair