last night was insanely fun.

one of my best friends was in town because he is touring as alanis morissette's guitarist. i met he and the mother of his soon-to-be son at a fancy hotel in berkeley. we sat up on a huge restaurant porch, the blaring sun in our eyes, catching up on lost years. and the food rolled in. and the drinks rolled in. and one by one, the rest of the band rolled in. even the stunningly delicious stylist. all but alanis. and we spent about 5 hours yapping and drinking as the sun set over a perfect tree-lined horizon with san francisco in the distance. this was the clearest night in weeks. and the most mellow for them with tour and all. they kept laughing how they weren't showing me the true spirit of rock-n-roll, by getting all fucked up. but we were buzzing. my friend invited me to jump on the bus after the show and head to LA. there, coicidentally, my lover-to-be will be finishing his appointment with hustler magazine, just in time for our first rendez-vous. how cool would i look stepping off a tourbus to meet YOU for the first time? pretty fucking cool. but i'm not. i'm here in my cozy home. saying goodbye to rockstars and hello to crazy lovers from the midwest.

< yeah >