Have I told you guys that my newest goal in life is to play the tambourine in a band? No, seriously. So if you happen to have a spare tambourine and no one to play it, you can just give me a call.
All y'all bitches missed a fantastic show last night. I think that my favorite part about seeing Aleksandra play is that she rocks and screams and kicks ass while the music is going, and then in between songs she's sweet as pie. It's just adorable.
I don't know about you, but all of my roads lead to maybe lately.
After the show I was back at my bar, spouting frantic samantha babble about literary deconstructionism and Derrida and Bahktin.
I wish that you had something new and different to tell me, or that I had something new and different to tell you--something about the proper way to wish on a handful of fish scales or the exact makeup of green cheese from the moon. I am working on the homesick playlist for my trip, picking out the songs I should hear in those moments when what I want most is my own little apartment. I'll be the samantha none of you know, out there; the girl who wears boy's swim trunks and no makeup and pigtails, who crosses the street without looking both ways.
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