2001-10-03 || 11:25 a.m.

|| with apologies. this is lame. ||

merciful heavens. my head is swarming swarming with things and my brain is beginning to swell from it all. tomorrow night i am embarking on a mini-tour as roadie to my friends' bands. san francisco-santa cruz-san diego-santa ana-oakland. van drivin and merch sellin and settin up drum kits, oh yes. i am ecstatic. i am crazy sick to my stomach. chico show was cancelled so the boys are staying in my very wee apartment tonight. to do list a thousand miles long (no. 42: remove piles of clean laundry in hallway and place them in proper drawers. no. 51: clean out goddamn litter box. no. 68: fix the new haircut a little because quite frankly right now it's lookin like the perfect marriage of carol brady and crusty punk rocker. no. 69: promise to not spend too much time on said hair cut because you know how these things are, jenny. you will spend two hours filling the sink with clippings and then have the overwhelming wish to be able to put it all back with scotch tape. no. 84: practice tap dancing for super secret casiotone song. no. 85: meditate. or vomit. or repress the thought of tap dancing onstage in front of 100+ indie kids/rocker types who quite probably won't think your time step is as charming as you do. no. 97: buy a case of beer for the boys. no. 121: straighten up apartment. make bed. there is no time to wash the sheets so. put them back on inside out.) oh. oh dear.

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