Back from Narnia

...last week was wonderful.

My heart's dark but it's rising, i'm pulling all the faith I can see.

Pete got us last minute tickets to Bruce Springsteen! It was amazing and wonderful and I'll always remember it. He didn't play Thunder Road, but maybe we'll get to see him again. He did this amazing thing where he just started taking everyone's request posters and saying "yeah, that's easy, we'll do that....no, not that one, keep trying...Oh my god that's the worst song we've ever recorded..." and he was JUMPING ALL OVER THE STAGE and being amazing. He kept yelling RICHMOOOOOND!!!!

The encore was like an hour long and he played Born to Run and Rosalita and Mary's Place! The whole place was vibrating. And the guy next to Pete was so weird and awesome. Oh also I was on the jumbo-tron, but I don't have a picture of that, unfortunately.

Thanks, Pete!
Also, look, I've lost 25 pounds!

From a quieter than usual northside cottage.

Saturday night found us reclined around a good-smelling fire in my backyard, drinking Malt Liquor and toasting a farewell to Taylor and Juliette.

After the inevitable "we better get going..." I got quiet and misty-eyed and could only choke out a "we'll hold your spot in Richmond until you get back," and a few minutes later we sent them off to Philadelphia. I found myself spending the next few minutes trying to recall what Taylor wrote about me leaving Fredericksburg in his zine, and all I could remember was the last sentence, which was something like "and we can't seem to remember why she left."

I guess that's the thing. As we all shoot off in a million directions and find what it is we're being pulled towards, we're pulled apart from each other, and it's hard for anyone to understand why.

Richmond misses you.