Lord I Was Born a Travellin� Man Last week was tough to go through. Being in England the previous week really helped me keep my mind off of things. When I first severed my friendship with the girl I was initially feeling very hurt and down. I�m doing a little bit better, but now I�m missing her like crazy. And not just because I�m in love with her�I miss our friendship so much. I don�t really have anyone in my life right now that I can spend so much time talking to�telling them all the stupid things that are on my mind�and the few cerebral things lodged up in there too. It doesn�t help that lots of people have been asking about her lately. I thought I did a good job of hiding our friendship, but then I remembered who I am and that I absolutely suck at hiding things. I didn�t realize how many people knew she was important to me. It makes sense though. Most of my feelings are so obvious that most people are cognizant of them before I am. The hilarious part is many people knew I was in love before I figured it out, yet the girl never caught on. Anyway, the only thing that�s helping me not be a pathetic wretch is travelling. Thankfully it has started again and I�ll be on the road for a long time. Check out this schedule: 2/26 To Vegas 2/27 Back home 2/28 Back to Vegas 3/2 Back home 3/8 To London 3/13 Back home 3/15 To Toronto 3/18 Back home This should keep me busy for a bit, which is good because I�m just so miserable at home. I�m especially excited for the Toronto trip since it�s for WrestleMania X8. I�ve always wanted to go to WrestleMania. It�s been one of my tier-two dreams and THQ is making it come true. Sweet.

This Junket. This Vomit. This England. I just got back from England around ten hours ago. The trip started out okay, but ended up being amazingly fun. Going in was a bit rough since I wasn�t able to sleep for consecutive nights the previous week; this combined with international travel really wore me down. So even though I had an okay time in London and Sheffield, I had a pretty nasty cold that put a damper on things. Still, it was cool hanging with the boys and the British PR babe. Newcastle was an entirely different story. This town totally rocks. The kids are out all hours of the evening, they�re scantily dressed (even though it�s frickin� freezing out), and the girls are pretty friendly. Naturally, I fell for two waitresses. First was Emma, a cute Chinese girl with a British accent (how hot is that?). She�s studying drama in Newcastle and we talked for a bit. Apparently she�s married to one of the guys working at the restaurant�and the boys knew this and decided not to tell me�dicks. Next up was Jennifer, who�s from Atlanta, Georgia. She�s an English major studying abroad for a year. She was totally cute and pretty interesting, but I didn�t ask her to hang with us later, which ended up being a good thing. Our first night in Newcastle we went to this bizarre club where the �80s never ended. It was crazy watching young men dancing with each other while singing Livin� on a Prayer. I�ve been to places in the Castro that were straighter than this. Let�s see, there was an extensive Wham medley, some Bryan Adams, and Cyndi Lauper. This one toothless fellow asked me to speak Chinese to him. It made me realize how comfortable I�ve been in places like San Francisco and New York. On one hand it made me appreciate the diversity and tolerance in these cities. On the other, it made me feel like I was neglecting the ethnic aspects of my identity since it�s a non-issue at home. It made me wonder what moving to Minnesota would be like. Thankfully, the cowgirl-dressed tavern wenches were really hot and compensated for how flaming this place was. Valentine�s Day started out poorly. Ironically, I was wearing the same outfit the day the girl broke my heart. At dinner I was a little sad�the continuous flow of merlot wasn�t helping either. After dinner we moved to the bar across the street and things changed dramatically. They had absinthe at this bar, which is a hallucinogenic alcohol that�s illegal in the US. I coerced the Kid--a 19-year old journalist--to imbibe some�and he ended up vomiting on Bill Linn. It was pretty awesome. It was all over his jacket, head, and hair. I ran from the scene laughing--both to disassociate myself from the Kid and to find a corner I could laugh in. It was seriously one of the funniest things I�ve ever seen. After the bar we went to a pretty neat club. I�ve been trying to encourage the Kid to talk to women more, so I found an attractive blonde girl for him to try his game on. He wasn�t going for it at first, so I went up to her myself and said, �Hi, my friend would like to buy you a drink. Would that be okay?� So they ended up talking, and like a good wingman I stayed to talk with her friend. The blonde girl ended up being a model that owns houses in London and Newcastle. Unfortunately for the Kid, blondie was engaged, but I ended spending some time with the other girl. She�s a student at the University of�uh�Newcastle�and is one of their top tennis players. When the club closed, we had lovely parting gifts for each other. Unfortunately, I don't remember what her name was...but I should have pictures of her on Monday. So we get back to the hotel shortly after 2:00AM and we�re still looking to hang out. After losing some of the group to two skanks, it was five of us (four journos and a flak) from America and eight of the UK guys. The guy manning the front desk didn�t want us to make noise, so he reopened the hotel bar for us. That was the single coolest thing a hotel has ever done for me. It was a pretty good time. The Brits kept telling us how girly American-football players are for wearing pads and we told them how soccer players are lame for running around like dickheads for hours without scoring. Apparently Brits think that American Ninja is the pinnacle of American moviemaking. One of the nastier guys in our group did his part as an international educator by teaching the Brits about hot Karl, tea-bagging, and dirty Sanchez. As the night went on it got even more juvenile. The Brits head of marketing fell asleep, so we drew on him, took pictures with him, and stacked pillows on him. Later, I drew a sign that read �I like cock.� We ended up sneaking the sign around and snapping photos of the unsuspecting victims. At 5:00AM, this is all fucking funny. Sixy beers and three packs of cigarettes later, we finally left the bar around 6:00AM, but ran into some Scottish guy and an English girl in the hallway. He claimed to have been snorting crushed E and gave us several reasons to believe him. He ended up performing a song for us with his pants around his ankles. After some quick packing and breakfast, we left for the airport. Newcastle totally rules and I need to go back there before I turn 30. Oh, Hoegaarden (which we later dubbed Ho-Wagon) and Night Nurse are the two finest beverages in Europe.

Indie Pop for the Soul The insomnia thing isn't going away. It's doing amazing things to my face. My skin looks like a demilitarized zone. I guess the stress isn't helping. My landlord repainted our bathroom and found some damage to the floor. So for the last few days and the next few days I have to shower at his place or at the gym. This isn't such a big hassle, but the timing sucks--not having my own shower is disrupting my sense of home. Right now I really need a comfortable place where I can just...be I guess, but my apartment smells like paint and if I want to shower I have to bother my landlord. In an effort to cheer myself up from my girl stuff and my lack-of-shower stuff, I've gone on an indie-pop shopping spree. I pretty much ordered the entire Shelflife catalog, but then I became rational and settled on an old Skypark album, an old Majestic album, and the latest from Le Coupe. Hopefully they'll arrive before I leave for England and I can make a disgustingly-happy indie-pop mix. Next time I'll probably order the last Brittle Stars album and this Shelflife compilation I've been eyeing. Although, if you're reading this, think about how pathetically sad I am and how giving me these CDs as a gift would inject some happiness into my otherwise morose and moribund life. Aislers Set are playing in LA in March. I'm thinking of going down if I can convince Raina to go with me. Then she can watch me turn to jelly as I become bewildered by Jen's ridiculously sexy smile. Yes, my favorite bass player in the world plays keyboards for Aislers Set too. For more on Jen, check out my archives and go to the 7/14, 7/19, 8/26, and 9/11 entries. Damn, I can't believe I haven't seen the Fairways play since September. I skipped their January show so I could see the girl. Hmph. Kitten gets back home (hers, not mine) on Monday night, so I can go cry on her shoulder. Hmmm, maybe I should go see Nathalie's paintings later today....

TGIF Thank God it's February. I mean, there's no way that this month can be worst than the last (knock on wood). In a few minutes, I will have been up for 36 hours. What a strange day it's been. I just couldn't sleep last night and I was too out of it to work. So I alternated between moping in my bedroom and moping in my living room. Fortunately, I had a meeting with some flaks, so I had to leave the house. I got through the meeting okay; that is to say I didn't look too miserable. Afterwards I went downtown to do some errands. I was all set to go home, but I felt really lonely and I really didn't want to be alone. It's weird, I've been dreading being alone, but when I'm around people, I'm not saying a whole lot. I want company, yet I'm very ashamed of my current state and don't like people seeing me like this. Anyway, I popped in James' office uninvited and spent the next four hours subjecting him to my company. I was really grateful that he put up with me, but I also felt guilty for imposing. The week has been going by so slowly. It feels like what happened last Sunday took place months ago. I know I'll eventually feel better, but I'm afraid of the cost. It's been really difficult already. There are times when I'm clearly crazy. So many little things can set me off--hearing a song she liked, someone bringing up the town she's from, coming across a movie we saw together, accidentally finding a picture of her, soy milk, hearing the phone ring around the time she used to call.... The last one was particularly annoying. I absolutely hated how excited I got when I thought it might be her. I hated even more when I remembered how things are now, and that I won't get to hear her voice for a very long time...maybe not ever. Ah, I just remembered why lugubrious is my favorite word.