Drinking like a Diplomat

Yesterday's intermission proved to be very fruitful, and I was nice and rested for my big interview. I had a quick interview and then was out the door and back on the tube in time to do a little browsing at Marks and Spencer before the Maestro showed up.

Time for some background information: "The Maestro" is Alan Chircop, a Maltese conductor who I will be doing a concert with in October. The concert is The Beatles Philharmonic, a tribute to the Beatles with, with The London Philharmonic Orchestra at the Royal Albert Hall... no big thing really. I'm singing in the chorus, as the only non-Maltese singer. It's going to be a riot.


So I was meeting with Maestro for the first time to talk about the project and get to know each other a bit. We had a good meeting and he convinced me to go along to the farewell party of the Maltese Deputy High Commissioner. It was a no-brain-er really! Free Food!!!


I rushed back to my hostel, a new one in fact, and had a quick shower, getting all gussied up for the Diplomats. (If you know anything about my issues with dressing myself, you can imagine how stressed I might have been trying to pick an outfit to wear). After much humming and hawing (which, given the lack of selection in my wardrobe, was unnecessary) I was dress to kill and headed out on the town. I was supposed to meet Maestro at Green Park tube station at around 8:15pm. I got there closer to 8:30pm and then Maestro showed up at 9:30pm. Luckily I had my new mobile, equipped with sudoku puzzles to kill the time.


We were late but headed into the May Fair hotel, past the velvet ropes and paparazzi, and up to the penthouse into a swanky party...that's when we realized that we were at the wrong shin-dig. We knew no on, and Maestro was mistaken for a waiter. Embarrassed, we retreated back into the lift, and asked at the front desk for where our party might be. We found our way to a nice back room where the party of the diplomats was just winding down. There was very little foo left, so we took to the wine instead. I had a wonderful time talking to all the folks at the party, and made some great connections with some fellow musicians. As the party drew to an almost close, The Diplomat decided that he wanted to hear me sing. Why is this Canadian girl singing with my Maltese choir? What makes her so special?

So I sang. For the Diplomats. It was good. I think they are okay with me singing with the Maltesers now! Good thing I worked as a singing waitress, and can whip out a good Porgi Amor when ever asked!