"Can you believe that? I forgot the words, started laughing, and then my string broke. Alright, fuck this...I'm going to the bar." -- Ryan Adams, Whiskeytown, Bar Lights

I'm new at this game right here. I don't know how I feel about airing all of my laundry (clean and dirty) for you, my erstwhile friends and strangers, but I must be somewhat okay with it.

So, I'm looking for a new apartment with Frangie and Amanda. I'm so nervous, I don't want this one to fall through, too. I really liked the place, and the guy who was leasing it was nice. His girlfriend even knows a bunch of girls I know. As if that meant anything. These are going to be a few nerve-wracking days.

On and on go the days of peeling labels, chewing straws, and crunching ice. Maybe this could be why my jaw hurts and I can let go the theory that my friends are punching me in my sleep. To said non-jaw-punching friends: For fuck's sake, just find me a date, guys. My jaw is killing me.

Saw They Might be Giants last night with Mike and two guys named Adrian and Jeff at Mass MoCA. For the record, the roads there are TERRIFYING. I think that's the fourth time I've seen TMBG. WE HEART DAN. Dan Miller on guitar is so so so so wonderful, why am I even saying "we?" I'm not royalty. Not even a Dairy Queen. Anyway, I WAS his fan club. If anyone who was there reads this and heard a girl yell "Yeah DAN" several times, that was me. I hope to see them again in Boston on the 25th. They're never bad. Ever. "She's an Angel" (My favorite TMBG song) was part of the second encore. I'd like to say I didn't see it coming, but I was close enough to the stage to read the set lists. And, yes fans, there was a conga line during the show. Great show.
"Ev-ery-bo-dy con-GA! I'm not fuck-ing kid-DING!" John F. in conga rhythm