Shiny Happy Fits of Rage

Well, damn. The Moldy Peaches are performing on the wrong night of the wrong week in the wrong town. First of all, for those of you who do not know, MP is my favorite band of all time. They broke up last year. And worse than the tragedy inherent in the breakup of your favorite band, is the desparaging thought that they will be getting back together to perform at a fundraiser for a little-known record label. In New York. When you live in Boise. And actually HAVE the money to go, but have purchased tickets to a traditional jazz festival for that week. Tickets that cannot be returned. And you've made plans to stay with a good friend, who has been getting ready for two months. And there is no way you can go. Even though you can afford to.

Oh, how I wish I were going to be in New York middle of next week. I could see Ira Amyx, meet Adam Green and Kimya Dawson and The Bounncer. I could see the Atlantic ocean. I'm so mad at my obligations. That's it. I will go to New York and London in the summer of 2006 and live it up, just me, KLaLa and the two greatest cities on Earth. I promise. And then I'll move to one of them. Yes, move there. Live there. For at least seven years. Mark my words.