And then HBO wants to cast me as a hipster.

Yes, you read it correctly. HBO, the channel behind TV greats like Entourage and Sex and The City, wants to cast me as a "featured hipster" in their show How To Make It In America. Could there be a more appropriate show for me to be in right now? Is God fucking with me? Well apparently He is, because even though they want to cast me, they can't because I don't have a work permit.  I can't get a work permit until someone offers me a job, but I can't get the job until I have a work permit. Difficult no? Yes. Still, the flutter of emails surrounding this eventual non-event has given my morning a sprinkling of excitement. And it's definitely a pleasing meter-reading for how America is receiving me. My list of "signals" now includes a US customs official who thinks I look like a rock star, one random stretch-limo airport pick-up, and HBO thinking I should be on TV. Not the worst tally for an aspiring rock 'n' roller in her first two weeks in the states. It was also a welcome boost to my confidence, which had been pitifully drained by one evening stroll through the brutally hip and uncompromisingly cool Soho. How did the people lining these streets become so immaculate, so accomplished, so devastatingly sure of their purpose in life? Or maybe they just look that way. And maybe, if HBO wants to cast me as a hipster in their show, I look like I know what I'm doing too. I don't of course, but then in some ways I do. I know underneath it all, exactly where I want to be and what I want to be doing. It's just the getting there that's a bit of a hairy ride. Anyway, this almost brush with fame has inspired me to get moving on the music side of my New York mission. So today and tonight, instead of drinking and schmoozing with advertising folk as I have been doing of late, I'm going to hunker down in my Hell's Kitchen apartment, plug in my gadgets and start honing my art. How romantic. And how very hipster of me.