Installment One - Before

Hello, my name is Kirby, pleased to meet you. Today, I have come to the decision that I need to write about the events of the past few years of my life, simply because they are remarkable. 

Wait, scrap that. Remarkable sounds too shmoozy...too 'Aww isn't that nice'. The stuff that's happened from July 2002 and onwards have really knocked me around, but it's been awfully cool at the same time. I guess it's a love hate thing. So I'd say the events of the past few years of my life have been......cool. 

It all started (sorry about the clichéd sentence starter) on a balmy night in June. All the doors of our L.A home were wide open. 'Cross ventilation', Spencer called it. Spencer is my father figure these days. In reality, he's my mother's best friend's sister's neighbor. How's that for complicated? Strangely enough, I've been pretty close to Spencer my entire life, which is even more complicated when you think about it. See with my family, whenever we had a gathering, everyone came. 

I love living with Spencer. He has a beautiful house with mohair rugs and dream catchers everywhere. He even throws parties sometimes. He's the kind of person who bothers to fold the hand towels and hang them on the towel rack, positioned perfectly. The house is usually spotless, but his room is always the messiest, most disgusting heap of waste, which makes me appreciate him even more.

How did I end up living with Spencer? Well I'm actually from Australia. As soon as I finished Year 12, I was on the sunny shores of L.A soaking up the sun.

I lie. I was actually studying very hard at university. Don't get me wrong, I would have started a bohemian movement called 'Let Kids Study On The Beach', had I had the energy and/or guts. 

My mother was always a Nazi when it came to taking holidays by myself or even with a friend. She always told me there was never anyone to stay with. She'd say my cousins in Queensland wouldn't want me to impose, or my uncle in Sydney didn't even know who I was. And then she totally contradicts herself and lets me live over in America with her best friend's sister's neighbor (whom I happen to call my uncle. But I'll leave that part out). 

Anyway, back to what I was talking about. I came into the living room where Spencer was perched on the suede leather couch, reading the comic strips in the newspaper. He was playing that damned Santana CD for about the millionth time since he'd bought it, so I decided I was in the position to change it. Before I had a chance to even stop the CD, Spencer started laughing to himself. 

I turned around to see him holding his cell phone now and laughing sporadically. 

"My god, you've gone mad,"

"Hardly," He said, "You're the one that's gonna go mad soon,"

"What have you been doing?" I settled for a local radio station and went to sit on the armchair. 

"Well, I called my boss today...Looks like that job is up for grabs after all,"----

---Just before I go any further, Spencer works for Island DefJam. Yes that's right, that Island Defjam. The one Hanson are signed to. He's not very important as far as rankings go, but he has a lot of friends, if you get what I mean. 

"Are you SERIOUS? Oh my god, are they still open? I better call them,"

"Um, I wouldn't,"

"Why not?"

"Because it's Sunday,"

"Right..."

"But don't worry, I already talked to them for you,"

"WHAT!?"

"Yep, all you have to do is go in for an interview tomorrow --trust me, it won't be anything to worry about---and then the job will be as good as yours," Spencer rubbed his hands together in a pleased fashion. Hell, I'd be pleased with myself too. 

Ok, let's jump ahead to after the interview now. The experience was short lived and fairly straight forward - as soon as I walked in I knew I had the job. The guy interviewing me was Spencer's best friend Dane who came over all the time. Meaning I knew him very well and held priority. Unfair on the other people, I know, sook sook, winge winge.

I, Kirby Bloom, would be one of three personal roadies for, you guessed it - Hanson.

And not just personal roadies, but personal assistant roadies. It might not sound so fun to you but any laundry, shopping or fan bashing Hanson needed done, we'd get to do it. 

Now let's jump to the first meeting with Hanson. I don't pride myself on my actions on that particular day (which had to be the day I met Hanson), but I suppose it just adds a little character to the event. 

I'd already met my two new 'colleagues' about an hour beforehand. There was Fletcher - a tall bohemian boy from San Diego and Melody - a trippy artist from Florida. We all stood in a row, not being able to really talk due to the nerves. 

The door to the office opened and three figures entered into the conference room, followed by four other figures. To my back left, I noticed a table full of refreshments. 

"Taylor, Isaac, Zac, I'd like you to meet your new assistants. This is Melody, Fletcher and---...Where's Kirby? She was just here,"

I was trying my hardest to hide behind the display of Pepsi and be subtle about it at the same time. Which wasn't working, by the way.

"Kirby, come over here,"

"Oh, of course, I'm sorry," I tried to act as if I'd wandered off by accident. My cheeks went fire engine red and I caught Fletcher giggling. 

"Hello, I'm Taylor,"

"Hi Taylor, I'm Kirby," 

My first impression of Hanson? Well, they were much more real than I imagined. Sure, they were all drop dead gorgeous but they still had pimples and cowlicks, even some embarrassing sweat patches here and there. They were pretty cool on the whole. 

As I mentioned above, I do not pride myself on antics on that day, and hiding behind the Pepsi was only the beginning. Infact, so many things went horribly wrong that I am forced to list them:

1. However inconvenient it was, I felt the need to re-do my hair. Being as clumsy I am, the hair band snapped right in the middle of my nail, causing me to shriek out "SHIT", which echoed throughout the whole room 2. I called Zac Taylor by accident 3. I spotted a guy in the corner and made a big deal out of forgetting to greet him, I shook his hand and introduced myself. Turned out he had nothing to do with Hanson 4. My cell phone kept ringing every few minutes. To make matters worse, I had it set on vibrate with the ringer off. To this day I'm sure Hanson still wonder why my pants were vibrating. 

Although the meeting-Hanson experience became far too traumatic to be remembered very often, I held onto the vain hope that I would have a chance to better myself, and avoid being remembered as the clumsy, cursing, vibrating Aussie girl.

Unsurprisingly, things moved on. The tour well and truly started, as did the utter madness. Up until I sneaked into a meet and greet, I had no idea Hanson fans could have any expression other than surprise. Seeing the first Hanson fan with a straight face and their mouth closed while in the company of Hanson was a landmark event!

Now, going on a trip like this is not as easy and glamorous as it may seem, and I knew that before I even started. It takes so much preparing that you often wonder if there's really any point in going through with it. But once you learn that those funny faces aren't screaming at you and that regardless of the rapid pace that everything is moving you still have to do your work, the pre-tour anxieties boil down to nothing. In many ways, you have to pretend that you are in the same place all the time, otherwise you won't get a thing done. You have to pretend you always knew the laundry room was on the ground floor, instead of in the basement like the last hotel. And more importantly, you have to ignore the fans.

Be well, 
Love, Kirby.