I'm almost done with my book. It's a guide of all the rock hot spots of the city, i.e. the bars, shops, record stores, bookstores, clubs, etc. I've visited more bars than I should in the last couple of months.

I'm asking for a new liver besides my usual royalty check this time.

I'm already thinking about the next book. And the next one. Work for me is like riding a bicycle : if you stop, you fall flat on your face.

Or in my case, if I stop working, I start thinking and it's no good.

Blythou out.

Things I've done lately :

- Spent 4 days in Stockholm with Thierry. Discovered Swedish gym thanks to our host Perrine. Baked tons of goodies for Perrine & Nicolas. Watched Anchorman. Trudged through slush, discovered a lovely city, with lovely architecture, great design everywhere, cool shops. I'll be back.

- Finished translating the Rough Guide about the Beatles.

- Started to write my new book.

- Done a couple of interviews.

- Spent time with friends.

- Cleaned. Cleaned. Cleaned.

- Bought tons of clothes on sale. Like, a lot.

- Caught a new cold. Like I needed this.

Things I haven't done and should have :

- Taken pics in Stockholm. I forgot my camera at home. Err, I guess you're all pretty lucky, you won't have to do a pity comment on Flick'r on one of my blurry pics.

- Played with my dolls. In fact, I haven't touched them in months. Not even to try on some new & lovely clothes I got. Once the economic crisis is over, I'm thinking of selling them. I definitely lost my dolly mojo. All my dolly-playing friends seem to move out of town, so without Blythe buddies, it's not much fun.

Blythou out.

So, I haven't updated in a while... because, once again, surprise, surprise, I've got loads of work piled on my shoulders. I'm currently translating a 300-page Rough Guide about the Beatles and I'm starting to write my new book with a manuscript to hand over next Spring.
Vacations are out of the question for the time being, but I already plan to take a couple of weeks off once it's over.

Strangely, I have trouble sleeping right now. I wake up every night at 4 am and can't get back to sleep before 6-ish or sometimes 7. Then, my alarm goes off at 7:30 and night's over, thank you, bye bye bed. I'm currently riding on an adrenalin high, so far so good, but I hope it's going to get better soon before I look like a dead zombie-vampire-corpse with the energy level of a stoned on Valium snail.


So forgive me if I don't comment. I'm here. I'm just saving my fingers for work.

Blythou out.

ETA : my publisher called right this minute. He's got more projects for me. I'm starting to think sleep is overrated.

A couple of months ago, I interviewed Mick Jones (ex-Clash) and Tony James (ex-Generation X) for their new band,

Carbon Silicon. They were really nice, sweet and funny and apparently, they thought I was pretty likeable too, because when their label organised a signing/meeting with their fans at a big Fnac store, they picked me as MC/translator.

So I had lunch between two charming punk legends on Saturday. We compared the merits of Nigella Lawson and Jamie Oliver with Mick, while Tony explained his fascination for Sex And The City and Lipstick Jungle (he loves the clothes, apparently). We also talked about history, i-Phone applications... and oh, yes, music.

The meeting with the fans went great. I was a bit nervous beforehand, then I decided that people weren't there to see me anyway, so I should relax. And Thierry was seating on the front row, which was comforting. I've recently realised that I have no trouble when it comes to do simultaneous translation. I love the adrenaline rush it gives me. The whole question/answer session was fun because those two love chatting and have a great sense of humor. 

Then, there was the whole signing/picture taking thing (and I forgot to take pics myself). Then we had a drink and a smoke on the roof of the Fnac. And we came home, I cooked diner, had a glass of wine, relaxed... and, it was business as usual. But on the way to the restaurant that day, I walked past an office I used to work at before becoming a journalist. I remembered how bored I was there, how I just wanted to go home and write, my only passion then. It seemed like it was in another lifetime. Or that it happened to another person.

I guessed I've come a long way. But I'm not there yet by a very long shot.

Blythou out.

I've interviewed Kevin Barnes, leader of Of Montreal yesterday. He was very shy but sweet and funny... And wore the best pair of gigantic shades this side of the seventies.

He got to meet Alabee, my MSR, who's named after his daughter and the song he wrote for her, And So Begins Our Alabee.




After coming back from the interview, I had to lock Alabee in the doll cabinet, because I couldn't stand her bragging about meeting celebs and hanging out with rock stars. This morning, I've noticed the other girls all look fed up with her. I should really stop taking my Blythes along for interviews. It ruins their fragile egos and fucks with their already oversized heads.

And now, I'll go take my bucket of crazy pills and shut up.

Blythou out.

Yesterday, I was invited to a radio show. It happens to me more and more.  Ever since publishing my latest book, I'm interviewed on all things relating to rock'n'roll culture for some reason I can't quite fathom. I used to envy the journalists who were considered like rock authorities in the past... And now, I'm somehow turning into a minor one and I don't really feel like I deserve it. It's not false modesty, just honesty on my part.

Anyway... While I was there, one of the co-presenters (who's an ex-rock journalist and a hilarious stand-up comedian) introduced me as one of the great writers from Rock&Folk. I swear I blushed.

My ego loves it of course. My ego thrives on all the praise and attention.. But I can't help being afraid that one day, I'll suffer some horrible failure... And deep down, I'm unsure I deserve all this. I suppose people like my sense of humor and if you combine it to the fact that I'm a prolific writer and a hardworker oh, and let's not forget that I'm a girl who favors miniskirts, well, I guess that explains part of the attention I get.

In the meantime, I won't complain. I've dreamt of being in that position ever since I was 15. It just seems a little surreal sometimes...

Blythou out.

... and the festival season is starting. Strangely, this year, I don't have any festival lined up yet. And I miss it.

Even though I'm not a big fan of muddy grounds, port-a-potties and the smell of greasy burgers and sausages, I love festivals. I always meet a shitload of friends and colleagues there. I always manage to discover a good band or two.

And for some reason, the whole experience makes me feel alive and rejuvenated.

I guess I don't party enough ;-) This is why I miss gigs in the open air with a crappy sound, badly dressed crowds, loonies waving flags and drinking too much beer and other festival-induced horrors.

Blythou out.

I've just received the monthly I write for... My 5-page feature has been cancelled and replaced by a tribute to my dead friend, Nikola. I don't mind it, of course.

BUT... I would have loved to be aware of this beforehand...

AND MOST OF ALL I WOULD HAVE LOVED TO BE ASKED TO WRITE SOMETHING FOR HIS TRIBUTE FOR FUCKING FUCK'S SAKE !

They've asked people he didn't consider friends, including one he clearly disliked... but I've been "forgotten".

I'm quitting if I don't receive a proper apology and if I'm not shown a little more respect (right now, they use me, but that's all... My fucking book hasn't even been reviewed in there, while it's been reviewed EVERYWHERE else).

It's just one of these days. Let's hope it's not going to turn into "one of these weeks". Or "one of these months". It already feels like it's been "one of these lives" sometimes.

Blythou out.

- putting the last touches at my big monthly feature
- shopping for Summer clothes with Marion
- buying a present for Adeline's b-day next week
- proof-reading my latest translation (the MOJO punk anthology)
- cooking for our Eurovision Song Contest party
- baking for the Sunday wii party


There's more to do, but I won't list it just now, because I sort of feel tired just *thinking* about it.

Blythou out.

The photographer I always work with has just sent me an e-mail informing me that a friend and fellow journalist has just died.

I refuse to believe it until it's been confirmed. I refuse to believe it anyway. He was a young guy, he was funny and bitchy, he was cool as fuck, he'd nicknamed me Mistress Isabelle back in the days...

I simply can't believe it. He wasn't living *that* hard either. Just your regular rock'n'roll party boy, nothing wild.

I won't believe it until it's been confirmed. And confirmed. And then, I'll still refuse to believe it. Because it's just unfair.

Blythou out.

Is it the scarcity of Blythe buddies ? Is it because I work all the time ? Is it a combination of that, plus my inability to take pictures (and the crappiness of my camera) & lack of time to sew clothes ?

Anyway, since I came back from Tokyo, I haven't taken a doll out of the glass cabinet. I hate being like that. Blythe used to be a source of joy and an inspiration for me. Now, I just... well... don't really care. Even though I still buy them clothes and shoes, so go figure.

The only Blythe buddy who still lives in Paris is Isaline, but usually, when we see each other, we're glued to the wii.

I suspect I suffer from post-book baby blues. Hence the whole questionning about something futile and superficial that hides the real problem (i.e. me and my inability to relax)

Blythou out.

Guess why ? Because I just work non-stop and when I don't, I hang out with friends and have a drink or five.

So, let's have a little life update, eh ?

My new book, the rock'n'roll chick survival guide, will be released in a matter of days and I'm doing a couple of signings next week. I've never done that, this is a leeeetle scary (what if nobody shows up ? what if only nasty assholes show up ?).

I suck beautifully at Guitar Hero. And I don't have a minute to spare to improve my non-existent skills.

I've pre-ordered the wii-fit. Next month, I'll get to do different work-outs to complete my daily dose of exercise. Yeah !

And finally, I'm feeding my new I-pod touch some fresh meat. Today's serving includes Johnny Cash, Iggy & The Stooges, Neil Young & Roy Orbison. And the Damned, because it puts me in the mood while I translate Punk The Whole Story (the huge Mojo book about punk rock). And I love their cover of Eloise, which is one of my favorite slices of over-the-top pop of all times. Hell, if I'd had a daughter, I would have called her Eloise after that song (and after the book, Eloise At The Plaza). And it's the name I've picked for my future chihuahua.

Oh, and while feeding my I-pod, I realised that I really like The Donnas' latest album, Bitchin'. It's basic, ballsy, cheesy, in-your-face metal/rock, the lyrics are all about sex and partying, but it somehow appeals to the zone of my brain that takes no offence when Led Zep and the Stones sing macho crap (while I usually go ballistic when I hear young women say "I'm not feminist" as if it was the grossest thing in the world... BECAUSE YOU'VE GOT TO BE A FEMINIST IF YOU'RE RIGHT IN YOUR MIND, BITCH, OOOPS, I MEANT GIRL).

Blythou out.

I've been back from Tokyo for a week and I'm already working my butt off !

I'll try to do a proper vacation post over the week-end, though... And a proper life update after that.

Blythou out

I've just spent 10 mins. on the phone with my very enthusiastic publisher who's been praising my Survival Guide For The Rock'n'roll Girls book (or in French "Guide de survie des filles rock'n'roll"). Apparently, everyone around him is also happy with it, think it's witty, etc. He's already planned plenty of things for the book, including a photoshoot with me (my friend, Travis, who's book I've worked on will be behind the camera), with a hairdresser and a make-up artist... I'd better not pile on weight in Japan ;-)

And everyone at my publisher's loves the wonderful illustrations done by French artist Colonel Moutarde. She's even designed a little paper doll that you can dress with rockin' clothes... Somebody's going to play dollies when she's got spare time, which isn't soon, because I have a 6 page article to finish and then I'll pack and fly to Tokyo.

Sorry for the "I'M SO HAPPY EVERYTHING IS SO WONDERFUL" post, but I thought it'd be a nice change from my usual grumpiness.

Oh, and when I come back, I'll start translating another book. I don't plan on slacking in '08.

Blythou out.

In 10 days or so, I'll hand the manuscript of my next book. It's the first time I've written something that's completely me : it was my idea (well, Gretchen and Thierry suggested it to me...), I pitched it, I picked an artist to illustrate it, I wrote everything from scratch (no interviews involved), I give my recipes, tips, etc.

And frankly, it's a pretty strange experience. Almost too personnal at times...

My publisher wants to launch it with a splash, so it's exciting and a bit overwhelming too. But I can't deny I'll be happy to hand my manuscript to him soon.

Then, and only then, I'll be able to really think about my Tokyo vacation.

Blythou out.

I was in the book section of the Virgin Megastore last sunday and it dawned on me that I'd written or collaborated to at least 3 books that were on the shelves... It used to be a dream of mine, you know, to publish books, etc. Strangely, I didn't really feel any sense of accomplishment, just realised it meant I'd spent hours in front of Pommy the Laptop, typing away.

Oh, and I've officially become *that* journalist. You know, the one who's got a finger in every pie and works more than 3 of his colleagues combined. The mercenary type who'll write about anything as long as there's a cheque at the end.

And I don't care. It's not like I've been shy with my ambitions. I don't work to flatter my already large ego. I work because I need to feel busy. Because I like making money which gives me a relative sense of safety.

It's funny because in the USA, no one would feel uncomfortable with being ambitious... But in France, it's still considered like an anomaly, like something you should hide and pretend instead that you're this humble little craft artist who works only for their personal satisfaction. I hate this sort of hypocrisy.

Bettie, who's curled up on my lap, has just purred in approval. She's her mother's daughter.

Blythou out.

Daily radio talk-show about women who cheat on their husbands.

First thought that popped into my mind : how do these women find the time to have two sex lives while it's so difficult to make time for only ONE when you have a job, live in a big city, have a busy social life and try to maintain your home in some sort of healthy tidyness ?

Then I thought that even if I didn't have to write a 48-page special in a little under 10 days, I wouldn't do it. I'm too old fashioned for this. That, and I never ever want to behave like my father.

I'm going to listen to some music now. I can't stand those women joking about how they looooove their husband but sex on the side is such fuuuun. You want fun, honey ? Do some shopping, hit the bars, gossip with your friends. But don't go around cheating on someone who loves you because it's fun. You don't know how much harm you can cause.

Blythou out.

I need your help for my next book. Basically, it'll be a lifestyle manual for rock'n'roll girls...

And I've decided to include i-pod playlists to go with various activities, such as cleaning the appartment, cooking for a party, waking up after a hangover, working out, traveling, etc.

If you have songs you'd like to submit, please do so in the comments and specifiy into which playlist it has to be included. As far as musical styles are concerned, I'm looking for rock'n'roll stuff, of course, but also pop, power pop, punk rock, metal, garage, surf, etc. Vintage material's welcome as well.

Of course, your name will end up in the special thanks section of the book !

Blythou out.

I did my monthly super long interview (the one I use to write a regular big-ass profile on a celeb's favorite records). I either do it on my own but my boss loves to tag along, shoot the breeze with the interviewee, etc.

He couldn't come today which pissed off the PR girl who hadn't done her job properly, anyway (hadn't sent me the DVDs to review, hadn't told the comedian we were meeting that there'd be a photoshoot, etc.).

She looked down at me and proceeded to explain me how to do my fucking job. I replied that I was the one writing the article anyway and I knew what I'd be talking about [even though she hadn't sent me any material].

The comedian was really interesting to talk to. We chatted for 90 minutes or so, then he went to do the shoot. Then I saw PR bitch talk to the waitress and right when I was leaving, the waitress rushed and asked me to pay for my green tea. Usually, the bill is being taken care of by the PR people so I looked surprised.

The waitress told me that, yes, the PR bitch had paid for everyone but me. Petty bitch. I wonder what I've done to her except not being my high-profile boss, who, BTW, will be informed of the whole thing.

Blythou out.

Beware, this post will sound a lot like my Oscar acceptance speech (what ? I haven't done a movie ? Does that mean I can't have an Oscar ? I don't think so).

I'd like to thank all the friends who suggested I buy a lamp to fight the evil SAD syndrome.

I'd like to thank my publishe who wants to hype my next book by all means available.

I'd like to thank, err, that's it. Now can I be grumpy ? I'd like to say a big fuck you very much to the public transportation service. Thanks to them, I'll have to walk 2 hours or so today in cold, cold, cold weather. And before seeing my beloved Fiery Furnaces on stage tonight, I'll have to interview stupid, perpetually angry French band Lofofora.

Ok, back to work. I've got a book to write. A big interview to derush, then turn into a long article. A translation to polish. A book to translate soon. Vacations to plan if I can take time off, that is.

Blythou out.