Such a good show at the Cricket on the Hill tonight. Exquisite sound, my guitar sounded like the half-bass hybrid beast it’s meant to sound like – met really wonderful people, including the band Sensei. Jason, back home, would’ve Loved them. Sort of like the entirety of the Ocean’s 11 soundtrack, Live before us.
Jennie cooked us a farewell meal – wonderful tofu and cilantro and mushrooms and garlic. We played a bunch of Magic, also as a farewell. I sort of feel bad about that, because when it comes down to it, I beat the Living shit out of her.
It was good to come back from the show to a house that still smells of incredible cooking, only slightly marred by the cigarette smoke that we are trailing.
Not really tired, but also don’t feel like typing – really eager to start heading home. The gig was awesome, I felt like I was on form like I haven’t been recently… the way I’ve been neutered by the band, it’s good to play and feel like myself… we played spectacularly, made our quota, made friends. The sound guy, Jeff, literally went down on his knees to shake my hand after the show. In short, we kicked ass.
But I am spent from being “on” – and with a piece of glass in my foot all night, no less… I’m not looking forward to taking off my sock and looking at my foot. I’m tired and I’m glad we’re Eastward bound in the morning.
Well, I can’t sleep. Sigh. My head is burning with nonsense rhymes and songs that are caught in my head – Will Schaff’s “Toto the Hero” keeps echoing and repeating:
“Don’t believe when I tell you I’m here to save you
Don’t believe when I tell you I’m here to bring you Life”
I’m soo tired, it’s just not fair – my brain is asking:
How far will we retreat
when the oceans rise a hundred feet
how far will we have to be
not to have to meet
the briny waters of the ocean deep.
Weird, hey?
So, it’s 4am and my brain is whirling, and everytime I try to lie down, it’s itchy, or I need to move, or… well, I just can’t get comfortable. So, I’ve come out to the Living room to type and sit and think and rhyme so as not to disturb Heather. She does most of the driving, afterall – so I can sleep in the car, and frankly, I’ll probably end up better rested there.
Celene is looking at me like I’m crazy. And she’s right. We’re leaving at 8.30am so as to make dinner in Omaha, so me being conscious at 4 is just stupid. Oh, and there’s an hour time change… so really it’s 5am. And my clock on my computer’s still set to Eastern time, so I keep thinking it’s 6am.
Yup. Gonna die.
I think… I think… it’s time for peanut butter and jelly.
