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I’ve started to plan my trip down the coast for That Mike‘s gigs, calling people, asking who’s going to be where, and trying to figure out how to get around.
I really like the idea of spending time out of town on Valentine’s Day, though it means my friends in Seattle might mostly be “busy” elsewhere. Already I’m considering buying another pair of ridiculously skimpy panties to throw at him to celebrate. I’ve never had a pleasant Valentines. One of my better ones involved someone locking me out of the house in the rain. Last year Mike was in playing over in Australia for Valentines, and Stéphane had just died, so I instead of going out, I was effectively single, alone, and in mourning. The highlight of my day was when Ben Peek wrote me into an autobiographical story introduced by a large picture containing the word COCK.
So far things seem to be falling into place. Nick called last night to tell me his van survived the fire somehow unscathed and that he and Nicole want to come as a romantic trip of their own. (That word again.) If it all works out, we’ll drive down to Portland on Thursday morning, love life there for a day, groovy down that night with Mike, drive up to Seattle, groovy with Mike some more, then spend the rest of the weekend drifting happily around Seattle like vacationing techno-hippies, and get back in time for my work on Monday morning. Depending on money, we might even make it down to his Wednesday night gig in Bend, which I find a delightful idea not least because I like the idea of a town named Bend. Seriously. You liked a place so much you decided to settle there, and that’s what you come up with? Bend? I love you guys.