October 17, 2008

MEAT PUDDING PIE AND OTHER HITS I'VE YET TO SING

Aska told me today that part of my job as tour manager is to tell them when their singing sucks. Unsolicited, she said. Just notify them. I said no, as "tour manager", I can't get involved. No critical commentary and no packing up backline. I gotta have rules, or else you die by the non-rules. I cannot soft pedal my opinions or hold them back in most situations, so really, lucky treat I can keep my yap shut for once. Xmas miracle perhaps. It is funny to be tagging along in the Euro, which seems opulent and worldly, and I cannot shake the feeling that I'm orbiting the unreal. Back home JR is feeding my cats for me, and I had my lowest paying week as a freelancer in years ($49.50, and huzzah to those weak American bucks) and I'm waking up tomorrow and living on someone elses dimes/pence in the second most expensive city in the world simply by virtue of the fact that I was available to leave the country for the rest of the month and my friends believed I had the skills required to untangle 64 pairs of headphones and remind them where we have to be and at what time. If I was at home I would be panicked, hustling for work, very possibly even a real-ish job, but instead I'm going to the wholesale flowermarket at 8 am for arrangements for the show and then Tuesday I go to Paris with my friends. I'm not fully into the relaxed gratitude part, it's more just the jetlagged over caffienated weirdness--baffled gratitude--and wondering what is the possible next? My life is an unholy WTF dream.

Posted by jessica hopper at October 17, 2008 08:09 PM | TrackBack