the girls iz showering. i'm so lowmaintainance compared to most people i know (read: lazy.) i slept over here at andrea's last nite, as i'm prone to do; friend #1 sara is still here and friend #2 caitlin arrives in a matter of hours. i knew long before i went that i didn't want to go back home post- belle and sebastian -- it was hard enuf being in the apartment alone in the rational light of day. andrea acquiesced ("of course! *hugs* " etc.) getting to vega turned out to be quite an endeavor. it required about an hour and a half of much cold standing around and more walking, which my tired feet in my thin holy socks could little endure. i didn't need to repeat the experience on the flip side, especially since getting to andrea's from there was ea-sy

the concert was well worth it. i'd never attended one by myself before, certainly not one in a foreign country. danes my age!, and all cooler than me, tightly-packed smoking, drinking indie twentysomethings cross-legged on the floor chatting in a room that looked and smelled straight out of 1972. at some unspoken signal, the crowd rose, and remained standing through an opening performance of eugene somebody from glascow ("anyone heard of glascow?") a good thirty minutes of impatient shifting waiting and finally an even better 90 minutes of 8 deadpan dorks with instruments and microphones. no kidding: these guys were so obviously, consciously, confidently dorks that swat should give them honorary degrees. thrillingly, they played through my napster songlist, only scattering a few unknown tunes and one new one, which i liked. the secondary main singer reminded me of joel sometimes, sometimes of cameron from Ferris Bueller. the other one, cute and ironic, i really wanted to be my friend. unfortunately they skipped Seeing Other People, ross's theme song. but they did Judy and the Dream of Horses and The Wrong Girl. they clearly enjoyed themselves too. oh i love performers.

must dress now, the girlz are done prepping and primping and i'm still in [andrea's] pajamas. concert then and girl company now provided much comfort: and got me to stop wallowing in sentiment, waa-waa-waaing to folksongs under my comforter.