Kay Hanley

One of the most awesome things about being in Miley’s band these days is that we aren’t officially on tour but we still end up working 2 weeks out of the month.  Typically we rehearse in Los Angeles and I’m home in time to pick the kiddos up from school or at the very least sit down to dinner with the family.  The shows are usually 2 day fly-outs or even better, hometown events.  As a mom, this works out very well for the most part.

 

This month has been a bit different.  We are on our second trip to Europe in 3 weeks and I’m completely disoriented.  I’m not even sure what day it is.

 

Oh, wait!  Yes I do!  It’s Thursday and I know this because I woke up in London at 5:15am and dragged my arse to the hotel lobby. I was 5 (or 10, whatever) minutes late, of course, thus drawing the visible and audible contempt of my band mates who are positively the most prompt band in music history.  It’s really annoying how annoyed they get with me, but that’s a whole other story.  Maybe I should get my shit together?  Anyhoodles, we played live on GMTV (london’s big morning talk show) and immediately after, sped away in a convoy of black Mercedes Benz cars that raced us to St Pancras train station so we could make our train to Paris for the rest of the day’s shows.  So that’s also how come I know it’s Thurday.  I took a train to Paris.  Sexy. 

 

schmidley & nadia

 

 look mommy! i’m on a train from london to paris!

 

 ah, le service. je t’adore eurostar..

 

 

So we get to Paris and and are met by our black Mercedes-Benz convoy (this organization is a machine, i tell you) and gun it to our sound check at Showcase, a venue located under a bridge right on the Seine.  As we drove, I was utterly gobsmacked by the beauty of Paris.  I mean, everyone I know who’s been here is always going on and on about “Seeing Paris is is like suckling at the teat of God himself”  and all that, but seriously:  IT IS.  The radular-ness of Paris cannot be overstated.  Even the Eiffel Tower blew my skull and I’ve been looking at pictures of that old chestnut my whole life.  

We finished sound check and our convoy blazed over to another sound check at the TV show Le Grand Journal.  Then we went to a much needed dinner at a local restaurant.  I had Spaghetti avec Fruits de Mer which was pretty good, but the pièce de résistance was the unspeakably delicious tiramisu.

 

chef d’oeuvre. 

 

 

Back to Le Grand Journal to perform 7 Things and then  booked it back to Showcase to perform a 45 minute set.  It need not even be mentioned that my arse was dragging because I think that’s pretty obvious, but since I like complaining:  My arse, she was a-draggin’.

Happily for me, my gorgeous friend, fellow blogger and Paris resident, Mademoiselle Cuckoo was waiting for me backstage with a glass of Champagne and all of a sudden it was game on.  We hopped into our sweet MB and drove to Le Sers so I could check into my hotel.  One never knows what sort of accommodations to expect when travelling outside of the States so I kept my fingers crossed but I am happy to say that my room was (and is) stunning.   Melissa and I proceeded to jump up and down in my room on the Champs-Élysées like crazed teenagers.  Teenagers that drink Sancerre and smoke cigarettes.

bienvenue à Paris!

 

now we’re just being wicked retahhdid 

 

 

 

Bon soir, Madamoiselle Cuckoo, mon ami!  Vive le France!   

 

xok