Move Like Jagger

So last night, a friend was performing in Gemaizeh to launch his new album - he's an up and coming rockstar - and we went to cheer him on! Okay, so maybe rock is not exactly his genre, but he certainly has the pipes to make it big. While listening to him croon on the guitar, Nickleback's 'Rockstar' was playing in my head, and since the whole directing thing didn't work out quite as I expected, I thought, what if I were rockstar instead?' I mean, I have good taste in music (what? no, I did not download ‘What Makes You Beautiful’ by One Direction. Really. What, this song? The one labeled 'What Makes You Beautiful' by One Direction? How did that get on my iPod, you ask? Um, I plead the Fifth.) Anyway, the point is, I really love music.

I’ll tell you another thing that no one else knows: I also love to dance. This is kind of a secret because I never do – in public anyway. I make exceptions, like my sisters’ weddings and such, but that’s it. When I’m out with my friends, I’m usually the one sitting. Sometimes, if a song I really love comes on, I stand up and do the dancing-for-dummies two-step. If I’m feeling really frisky, I’ll add a shimmy, but only a little one, otherwise I look like I’m having a seizure.

It’s kind of tragic that I’m so completely talentless in both categories. It’s like God said, “I’m going to create this really awesome person (yes, me!), make her absolutely passionate about everything from Mozart to Coldplay, but make her sound like a dying cat when she sings and a flailing fish when she dances.” Thus, Anissa was created.

To me, it’s a big cosmic joke that I can do neither to save my life. I mean, I would do it to save my life, but you know, it would be a definite struggle for anyone who had to listen or watch. Still, anytime I see one of my favorite bands rock it out, I think, if only I could do what they do. Then I go into a sort of trance and start daydreaming about what my life would be like if I were a rockstar. Hmmm, I feel a reverie coming…

… if I were a rockstar, I would be cool like Joan Jett, have the pipes of Billie Holiday and – to borrow a line from Maroon 5 – move like Jagger, but with better hair and cuter outfits.  My concerts would be legendary, and I’d go on tour with The Rolling Stones and have Aerosmith open for me. In fact, I’d become such good friends with the band members that they’d put me in one of their videos, where I’d be the hot girl who can dance.

… if I were a rockstar, I would live out my childhood fantasy of marrying Morten Harket from A-ha and then Simon Le Bon from Duran Duran (luckily, I let go of my George Michael crush a long time ago). I would totally bitch slap Justin Bieber just because his stupid hair annoys me and tell Katy Perry that, no, blue locks are not a good look for anyone, unless you’re a Smurf. I would advise Madonna that it’s time to retire her leotard and maybe start hanging out with guys who’ve hit puberty.

… if I were a rockstar, Lady Gaga and I would be BFFs – we’d record at least one duet together and do a video where I’d be the one wearing the outfit not made out of meat. I’d hang out with Bono. We’d wear sunglasses all the time, even indoors, and he’d think my idea of recruiting Christian Louboutin to his Buy RED campaign was absolutely brilliant. Then U2 would write a song about me and I’d be in the video, where I’d be the hot girl who can dance... again.

Yeah, if I were a rockstar, I would be able to sing, I would be able to dance and life would be just grand!