I'm off again today, and quite frankly, today might be even better than yesterday.
I slept in until 12:30, no phone calls or emails from work, I'm still wearing my nightgown, and I just read a funny story my friend Michael wrote on his blog about his "friend," Angela.
My friend "John" just called. John works for the LA Philharmonic. I told him I wasn't home, and he asked when a good time would be to call me back. Then, before I could answer, he said that he wasn't trying to sell me anything but that he just wanted to let me know about some great opportunities that were coming up. I wanted to say, oh, you mean the LA Phil wants me to audition? Because that's the only "opportunity" I would be interested in.
I don't know what the average NPR listener is (I was just reading this very goofy book about the power of wishing, and the author - Caucasian, 40-ish, drives a Volvo - stated that she was the epitome of the stereotypical NPR fan. I'm pretty different from this lady [reading her book solidified that notion], and I wonder if the LA Phil knows that I'm a 30-something Hispanic who didn't finish college and who just spent the weekend listening to Radiohead, Led Zeppelin, the Birthday Party, the Who, Jamiroquai, N.E.R.D., the Police, and really old podcasts of Fresh Air and This American Life? Do they care? Does NPR?), or what the average LA Phil subscriber looks like, and I'm not really interested in average, anyway. How boring, right? But what's the deal, LA Phil? Unless you're going to offer me a job, I'll call you.
And, hey, John? We already saw Dianne Reeves once. It was enough. Thanks.
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