Even though I do a fair amount of whining about my yet to be written thesis, the truth of the matter is, life for me is pretty great. I get to live in Ireland for a while, I just finished the bulk of an M.A. degree in film studies (I watch films...here's a degree to prove it) I'm working at a fantastic job that makes me feel as if I'm an involved member of the film community (okay, I'm not, but I have a grand capacity for imagining that scenario) and I get to escape my crushing debt for a while. What could make it better?
Okay, I'll tell you. Why doesn't one of my favorite bands of all time play in the concert venue right next door to my office? Crowded House has been playing for the last three nights at The Olympia Theatre in Dublin. Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday of this week, regular as clockwork, the band would strike it up for a post-lunch rehearsal and I would get to hear Neil Finn's delicious vocals belting out some 80s classics...World Where You Live was especially thrilling. It was a fairly adequate substitute for actually seeing them...since all three shows were sold out and I wasn't going to pay the €90 being asked on ebay.
When they weren't rehearsing, I was smashed up against the office window trying to see the stage door in hopes Neil would wander out for a breath of fresh air. Maybe he would glance up, see my nose squashed flat against the glass and beckon me down for a private concert in the empty theatre. Then, he'd hear me singing along and discover my voice has a unique quality, rich in timbre, blending seamlessly with his own. He'd decide what the tour needed was a fresh sound. He'd invite me to join them on stage that night and then, when that was an overwhelming success with not only him but the entire audience, he'd ask me to join them for the rest of the tour. Naturally, he'd fall in love with me, but would prove to be too much a gentleman to force his attentions on me...knowing full well I was still keeping up with my bf in Dublin.
Eventually, I'd get my own recording deal and my star would ascend. Neil would have to let me go. He would be sad, but would wish me the best with a tear of regret for what might have been shining in his eye...maybe his left one.
As it was, Neil never did come out that stage door. I think the bf is relieved...or wondering if I'm really that retarded.
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3 comments:
Dear BF: Yes, she is THAT retarded.
I was gonna say I was just checking up on your blog and noting that in writing, you are a genius. But then I saw the other comment and decided that was funnier.
Write your dang thesis already.
A New Zealander I know told me the following joke:
Q: What's the strongest muscle in a sheep's body?
A: A kiwi's prick.
Hey now! Hey now!
Anyway, for your sake I hope Mr. Finn isn't feeling sheepish.
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