Note: This is a journal entry — it was written on paper or on my computer, then transferred to my website, maybe years later.

Okay, I finished packing and I’m making coffee.  Ryan wants to sleep a few more minutes.  We couldn’t get the same flights; my plane leaves at 1:40; his doesn’t leave until 5 something.  So he’s going to have to sit around waiting to leave.  But then I’m going to be sitting around waiting for him after I get to Oslo, fair’s fair. 

Sara and Giacomo have been so nice to us, they’re the best.  Wonderful people.  Thank god we got to stay with them a few days, they kept us laughing and well fed the whole time.

Note: This is a journal entry — it was written on paper or on my computer, then transferred to my website, maybe years later.

The other night’s show turned out great, actually.  I just decided to throw down and wail, and I did, and it turned out fine.  I also found out more about Diaframma.  They used to be a big new wave group in the 80s, but the lead singer is the only one left from that group.  He has all these guys with him now that I can only assume are session guys.  Rawk dudes that give him the huge sound and all the poses but don’t add any originality or soul or spirit.  He’s a good performer and has good songs, but his bandmates are taking the life out of his music.  He’d be better off playing solo, in my opinion.  That’s just my opinion.

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Note: This is a journal entry — it was written on paper or on my computer, then transferred to my website, maybe years later.

The band we’re opening for is called Diaframma.  They’re loud as shit, very commercial-sounding, and very bored with us apparently.  I don’t know who the hell’s idea it was to put them on the same bill with us, but whatever!  One of them just wished me "good luck"… doesn’t he know it’s bad luck to say "good luck" and you need to say "break a leg" instead?  I should have said "good luck to YOU too!" but didn’t think of it until two minutes later.

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Note: This is a journal entry — it was written on paper or on my computer, then transferred to my website, maybe years later.

We’re at the club in Teramo called Galadhrim, waiting to soundcheck.  We’re opening for another band whose name escapes me.  It was news to me, and it’s being advertised as me headlining but whatever — hopefully they’ll draw some people in here like I could never do.  We played last night at the Kabala Jazz Club in Pescara.  It was a good club and there were people, but it was a weird show (again).  I still have a bit of a cold, I’m using nose drops now to clear out the snot.  Which means I’ll have to keep using them until the tour’s over.  I hate that.

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Note: This is a journal entry — it was written on paper or on my computer, then transferred to my website, maybe years later.

Wow, the show last night went soooooo much better than the soundcheck.  I guess Giambeppe got the kinks worked out for me because by the time I played, I had full monitor action and could hear everything fine.  Better than fine… it was fuckin’ HUGE!!  Which is great for my voice, but the downside is that you can hear every little goof-up in my guitar playing, which isn’t nearly as good as my singing.  Well, I didn’t screw up anything too bad.  The audience was great, they were there to LISTEN and I could only hear a few people talking very quietly way back in the back of the room.  There are a couple of bar areas separate from the main music room, so I guess all the talkers went back there.

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Note: This is a journal entry — it was written on paper or on my computer, then transferred to my website, maybe years later.

Well, after bitching about the food so much, not five minutes after I wrote that, Tiziano came back home with a bunch of groceries and proceeded to stuff our bellies with an egg-based pasta with meat sauce, bread sticks, wine, fresh tomatoes, fresh parmesan.  Now we’re at the club (il Covo in Bologna) and we just got fed the most awesome pizza.  We each got our own ~12-inch pizza and omigod, there was no way I could finish all that.  So, it was a pretty good day for food!!

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Note: This is a journal entry — it was written on paper or on my computer, then transferred to my website, maybe years later.

We’re somewhere out in the country in Italy, about 40 minutes outside of Modena, staying at Tiziano’s house, the promoter from the show last night at the Montechristo club.  The show was weird.  I guess every OTHER show is turning out well in this country!  Which is pretty normal for anywhere I guess.

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Note: This is a journal entry — it was written on paper or on my computer, then transferred to my website, maybe years later.

We’re in Genova, Italy staying in the apartment of our new driver, Paolo.  I feel better about everything now.  Paolo’s a real nice guy and, I dunno, I guess I just needed to get the fuck out of Rome and away from the oppressive attitude of the-girl-who-booked-our-tour.  I just can’t maintain the proper attitude around her; in her hands I can’t feel okay about what I’m doing, or secure in where I’m going or how I’m getting there.  Whereas Paolo’s attitude is perfect, he’s all "let’s go!  looks like a good tour!  great show!  no problem!  let’s eat!" etc etc.  I do miss Sara and Giacomo, two very sweet and funny people, but it’s good to get out on the road again.

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Note: This is a journal entry — it was written on paper or on my computer, then transferred to my website, maybe years later.

I’m so stressed out, and pissed off at the people who booked our tour.  We’re about to leave Rome for five shows, and won’t be back here until the show at Sonica on the 10th.  We don’t have a van, we have a car, and because of that, we can’t bring our suitcases or even our guitar cases.  We’re going to be strolling into these clubs with our guitars in our hands.  We don’t get hotels because we have to save money to pay off the exorbitantly-priced airline tickets.  Which we were forced to buy at the last minute because we were waiting to find out when U.S. Maple was going to be done with the van we were going to use… which we can’t even use anymore.  Because the guy doesn’t feel it’s necessary, because we don’t have a drummer.  But… we don’t have room for our fucking suitcases or guitar cases.  If we have a place to stay, we have to bring our stuff in multiple miniature bags… one for the music cables/guitar tuner/stand/etc., one for 5 days worth of my clothes, one for Ryan’s clothes, one for my bathroom junk and makeup, one for my electronics junk so I can use my computer, another one for the T-shirts which we STILL haven’t sold, etc. etc.  Hopefully all these little bags will fit in the car better than our suitcases would have.

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Note: This is a journal entry — it was written on paper or on my computer, then transferred to my website, maybe years later.

So, Ryan and Sara and Giacomo went to a club and met with the girl and guy who put this tour together.  There’s a show tonight with 4 bands playing, but I decided it would be better for me to stay "home" and get some alone-time.  I need lots of that in my life and it’s really hard to get it when I’m on tour.

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Note: This is a journal entry — it was written on paper or on my computer, then transferred to my website, maybe years later.

Well, we’re in Rome.  I can’t say that I’m happy about it but here we are.  I really miss Andy, our road manager from Spain!!!  I miss everyone from Green UFOs too.  I sure had fun in Spain.

I should backtrack and tell you about the Granada show on Friday.  That was a little weird but it went okay.  Granada was just as beautiful as Andy had described.  Of course we didn’t have as much time to walk around exploring, due to the extra time we had to take to swing by Puerto Real to pick up the stupid t-shirts.  But we got there in time for sound check.  The club (the Planta Baja) is really mod, like something out of Logan’s Run.  I don’t think there were any straight lines in that place, all the walls were curved and every hallway or walkway was totally tubular, man.  The sound guy was real nice and so was the booking guy, or talent buyer or whatever you call ‘em.  The stage was in the downstairs room, but there wasn’t really a stage-stage, just some steps that led up to a higher level.  Everything was concrete or tile, so the sound was a bit worrisome, but they hung a curtain behind us which helped squelch the boominess in the room.

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Note: This is a journal entry — it was written on paper or on my computer, then transferred to my website, maybe years later.

Andy’s coming to pick us up in a half-hour.  I was right about the transformer thingy.  It’ll work for about two minutes after I plug it in, then it dies.  I pull it out, wait a minute or two, put it back in and the same thing happens.  Fucking thing.  But at least I know it’s that and not something else.  The laptop itself is okay.  Anyway, I kept plugging it in and unplugging it over and over after I woke up this morning to at least get it charged back enough so’s I could make sure it wasn’t totally dead.  It had gone down to 0% last night and wouldn’t even let me turn it on at all, but now it’s up to 14%.  Whoo-hoo, it just hopped up to 15%!!  Fucking thing.  And the really crappy thing is that I won’t even be able to find a new one today no matter how hard I look, because today (Nov. 1st) es un dia de fiesta here.  (It’s All-Saints day or something, I dunno ‘cuz I’m not Catholic.)

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Note: This is a journal entry — it was written on paper or on my computer, then transferred to my website, maybe years later.

Hey there, happy Halloween!!  I just got back to the hotel after the show in Sevilla at the Fun Club.  I KILLED tonight.  Swear to god.  The sound was really really good, at least for me, so that made it a lot easier to hear myself well and put on a good show.  Also, all the employees of Green UFOs were there (the folks who put this Spanish part of the tour together), so I guess I wanted to do really well so they could see what a kickass performer I am.  Hahaha!!  Good thing they didn’t see me last night in Puerto Real.  ;-)

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Note: This is a journal entry — it was written on paper or on my computer, then transferred to my website, maybe years later.

Hello!  Just got home (haha) to Sevilla, from the show in Puerto Real (Cadiz), a seaside town.  Or anyway, we saw a beach and some water, but I’m not sure if that was the actual ocean.  It’s only a little over an hour’s drive from Sevilla so we just drove back and forth.  We’re staying in the same hotel we we were at last night, called La Muralla.  We have these rooms tomorrow night too.  It’s real nice to be able to stay in the same place for a little stretch, you don’t have to spend so much time draggin’ yer suitcase around.  I think me and Ryan are starting to drive poor Andy a little bit batty, but that’s okay.  There are only a few days left for him to put up with our dumbass jokes, and I’m pretty sure he’ll forgive us our weirdnesses and not end up completely disgusted with us and never wanting to see us again.  (Believe me, it can happen!)

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Note: This is a journal entry — it was written on paper or on my computer, then transferred to my website, maybe years later.

I’m in the hotel Muralla in Sevilla.  Me and Ryan stayed up for a few hours drinking beer, smoking cigarettes, talking and laughing the whole time but we didn’t realize the sound was carrying through the hotel.  Just got a huge bang on the door so I knew it was time to go to my room and shut the fuck up.  When we opened his door there was nobody there!!  I guess the night clerk banged on the door and bolted back downstairs so he wouldn’t have to actually yell at us.  I hope we don’t get in trouble for this, ‘cuz we’re supposed to spend another couple of nights here!!  Uhhhhh…. sorry?  Lo siento, no sabiamos que fuimos haciento tanto ruido!!

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