I was so consumed with love...and probably lust just remembering my night, that I couldn't even think of an appropriate introduction for this post. Anyone who knows me, knows my love for Sean Combs, Puff Daddy, Diddy can get a bit out of hand. I've dreamt of working for Bad Boy Entertainment for about 7 years of my life...way before I knew that entertainment PR is what I wanted to do. I promised myself that any opportunity I got to see Diddy (being in CT doesn't allow too many opportunities), I would. I was even planning a night trip to Philly to attend one of his celebrity parties, although by the time I found out about it, Enterprise Rentals was closed. That $250.00 ticket and 5 hour drive didn't mean a thing to me if I got to attend an actual Diddy party.
About a year after that event, my best friend surprised me with tickets to the Diddy - Dirty Money concert for their debut (and only) album Last Train To Paris (which might I add was amazingly produced). Needless to say, that concert gave me so much life. The people who sat next to me got to meet him, and apparently they gave them towels as a memorabilia. At the end of the night, those towels went home with me.
Another year after that, I was driving to work listening to the radio, something I barely listen to, and I heard the DJ's announce a Diddy party being held at a near by CT casino. I got to work. Got out of my car. Went into my office. And 15 minutes later booked the Platinum Party package - early entry, hotel room, and guaranteed access into the party. I didn't even need to know who I was going with, as long as I knew that I was going. I called up my best friend and of course he was all in.
That night may have been the greatest night of my life. The party atmosphere was great. The way the room was decorated, the perfectly costumed cage dancers, and the acrobats doing tricks from the ceiling all made my money worth it. The Djs, ehhh, not so much, but I could care less, I wanted to see Diddy. He arrived, and performed for about 15 minutes....SUPER DRUNK. I couldn't even be mad at him; afterall, it was his party.
For some reason, though, the moment he came out, I was less concerned with him, and more concerned with my dream. I seen everything I wanted right before me. The excitement I had for him, I want to have for someone... someone I actually know. Someone who has been through the wire to accomplish their dream. I want to be on the stage as part of someone's team, representing them and all they're doing. I want to publicize, market, and plan these events for a hardworking client whom I see nothing but potential in. I want to put on the best dress and be a part of the hype - not for myself but for my client. I don't want to smile because I see my dreams manifested, I want to smile because I know I've played a role in someone else's manifestation. Someone who had all it took except public recognition. Someone who had all the talent but no brand. Someone who had all the ideas and tons to talk about, but no way to communicate them to the world. I want to aid in someone else's development, so that one day, their Platinum parties could be as popular as Diddy's are.
I could only dream that one day I won't be the one holding the camera in the audience, but the one forming a positive connection with, communicating with, and gauging the satisfaction of the audience. An audience in which my client's success or failure depends.
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