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 feeling better now about everything.  Jan isn’t half as bad as I’ve made him out to be, though he could be a few cards short of a full deck I guess.  His mistake was to not shut up after I told him and Ryan about ten times that I was getting upset by the things they were saying and I didn’t want to hear it anymore.  It made them defensive and they kept talking about it, and I kept getting more upset, which led to the utter frustration you see in the previous journal entry.

Right now we’re in Goteborg about to play the last show of the tour, at a very nice club called Pusterviksbaren.  The promoters, Christina and Kim (sp?) are very nice.  Christina says she might be the biggest Edith Frost fan in Sweden.  I sure have a lot of superfans around these parts!  Tonight we have to play at eleven and then get out of here as quickly as possible so we can make it back to Oslo in time to make our flights back to Chicago.  (Well, Ryan’s going to London first but that’s another story.) My flight is at 7:30 AM, which means I need to be there by 6:30.  Our luggage is sitting in the Cafe Mono because it wouldn’t fit in Per’s car.  We turned in the rent-a-car this morning after about an hour of driving the streets since Jan couldn’t remember where it actually was.  That guy couldn’t find his asshole with a compass and a flashlight.  Oh well, he does know a lot about the music scene; I guess that’s his main strong point.  I’m glad Per’s with us for this one last show.

The show last night at the Cafe Mono went fine.  The audience was great, as they all have been here in Scandinavia.  The PA wasn’t the greatest but it was good enough.  My voice was pretty raggedy and Ryan had lost his voice completely… for me it didn’t feel like such a great performance but nevertheless, the people were unfailingly loyal and thanked me endlessly for playing there.  After the show the place turned into another big clusterfuck of partying people, the way it was when we first arrived in Oslo.  I found out from someone that Thomas (Hansen?) from the band St. Thomas was at the show… he and I had exchanged several e-mails way back when.  The guy I talked to said he’s way too shy, maybe that’s why he didn’t say hi.  I hope he liked the show anyway.

Sure will be nice to go home to my sweetie-pie John!!  Even Elsa’s meowling will be a welcome sound to these ears.  I just hope we can get to Oslo, get the luggage and make it to the airport on time, and that my connection in Munich doesn’t get screwed up.  We’re not going to be getting any real sleep tonight, nor did we last night, nor the night before.  I guess the last full night of sleep was in Linkoping.  Last night we slept in Oslo — Ryan went back to Jan’s apartment but I made a little stink and scored a couch at Per and his girlfriend’s apartment.  It was sheer heaven compared to that awful night at Jan’s.  Ryan says that when he and Jan went back there, they discovered the kitchen window was open and had been open all week.  I sure wasn’t the one who opened it — I wonder if it was open when I slept there?  That would explain why I was so fucking cold all night.