is my bed disponible pour le PEB?

possibly a little too much time in sudoc, poking around for my bibliographies and syllabi...

scene: sunside, a jazz bar near chatelet.
pour quoi faire: to see yvonnick prené, that ambiguous blue-eyed harmonica player, play a gig with a jazz quintet. 12€ at that. worth it? read on...

the first set started at around 22h30. i of course have become nearly as flaky as michael beharie in terms of punctuality (mais je rigole). still, i was significantly late in showing up to metro chatelet with meredith (who constantly plans well, and got there just shy of 21h45). the bar was easy to find though.

the ensemble was pretty good, in general. twins, scott and tony, on violin and piano respectively, a girl i can't remember the name of on drums (pretty freaking good), some guy joe i think on bass, and yvonnick on harmonica. it's interesting, actually, the sound of the harmonica in a group like that. it's like a saxo, but not quite, with more of a mellow sound...and it apparently gives your mouth hella blisters if you play it too much.

their sound in my opinion (take that as you will) was a little too consistent. scott's solos were blasé at first and then grew into craziness (impressive, and then tiresome after he gave similar solos in other tunes). yvonnick's playing is extremely agile. i remember trying to play harmonica in my childhood, i think my dad taught me...yvonnick sounds way better than the lame-o sounds of small martha.

anyway, after a long "pause" (with jazzers i suppose intermission is too brief a term), meredith had to check her watch because she wanted to catch the last metro home (she lives all the way in the 17th and had to transfer). i bought her a nutella crepe (the forlorn anemic ballerina) and she stuck it out until the end of the 2nd tune of the final set. i chilled in the back til the end and proceeded to get sleepy.

i think yvonnick was glad i came though, he was very appreciative. there was a brief instant at the end where it wasn't clear whether or not he would be walking me home, but he was smoking a cigarette and got distracted, so i took off into the night. i wrote in my journal for a while after getting back and before turning in noticed i had a new call. apparently, he called me to see if he could crash at my place (which isn't really mine at all)...and i have absolutely no clue how that would fly with my host family. not even an inkling.

he's moving to new york next year, and i've been storming ideas for the fall too, like: what if...i don't get into grad school?...i don't get the fellowship i want?... i don't get enough money?...i decide that living with kat in nyc sounds damned good?