2004-03-09..5:30 p.m.

I�ve been unusually chipper and without backpain considering I had but 5 hours sleep (count �em! 5!). Gig very good. Very very good. Have lots of material. Interview formal, nervous, and like forcing molars out of a child who hasn�t yet grown them. (Did I mention I was doing a review last night? For a proper THING, not just me pretending to be cool and a critic-journalist? AND that I was doing an INTERVIEW with it? No? I�d been commission to go to the Phantom Planets gig, interview them and write a review by the inhouse magazine. Not crazy impressive, but cooler than going, �Uh..yeah. Sure, I write for [insert fake �zine name here]� when asked if I�m a journalist, and who I�m writing for because I hang around in the shadows taking notes all night long and talking to band people. Or worse, �Uh�no.�, before bending over so they can beat my sorry dorkostic ass.) I walked home so that I can afford to go to the Salako concert tomorrow. I�m such a nerd. I rabidly take notes during shows and glare daggers at anyone who jostles me in their attempt to �have fun�, I write reviews for my own amusement, I convince myself that by showering as soon as I get in and drinking water on the way to work in lieu of breakfast I�m doing myself a favour by saving time*, I deny myself the sodding one pound bus fare and forego dinner all so that I can go and do it all again the following night. I need help.

I am now about to go home. I�ll rest up and be chatty tomorrow. Promise.

meep b