I think it's fair to say that I've settled in nice and cozylike to the new PR gig at RESULTS. At the very least, I'm assuming they have confidence in my abilities based on the fact that my workload shot up like a mother after Congress got into session. The professional highlight of the past six weeks was the coordination of a press conference call with Nobel Peace Prize winner Muhammad Yunus. True, it was just a conference call, and Mr. Yunus was about 200 miles away in NYC at the time, but I still think I'm moving up in the world.
Not content to keep my public relations activities confined to business hours, I've devoted a fair amount of free time this past week to drumming up support for Council Rock homeboy turned indie-rock-superstar-to-be Shwa Losben, who played Iota in Arlington last night. Shwa's a nice boy from Holland, Pa. who did an impressive turn at American University and then made the rather ballsy decision to become a full-time singer-songwriter. And durned if he isn't brilliant at it. He's toured fairly constantly for about three years now, built a nice following in DC, and moved himself up to NYC last year. Last night, I assembled a modest crew and had a proper night out at the Shwa show, staying out until the outrageous hour of 1:45 a.m.
The only lowlight of the evening was the fact that I seemed to be one of the only clubgoers who got caught in a torrential downpour walking from the car to the venue -- so my bedraggled, soaked, mascara-smeared entrance among the nicely coiffed and attired hip young things of Northern Virginia was somewhat less than dignified. Happily, everybody's friends at a Shwa show, so nobody seemed to mind the soggy midget in their midst. I'll get the poised and elegant thing down one of these days. Just not anytime soon.
Robyn
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