Wednesday December 29 • Midnight:07

mood: dull
song: "I Spy" -- Guster


Well, here after the holidays it's been quite quiet. The usual lack of organization buzzes in my ears, along with 53 unanswered emails, but no more dinners to go to, no more Christmas cookies to bake, no more wrapping presents… It's been fun, and exhausting.

On Monday I ate nothing but lettuce.

I'm trying to make up for eating all the butter... and pie. But hey, who is going to turn down a chance to utterly submerse themselves in culinary delights for 48 hours. It doesn't happen that often... It must be taken full advantage of.

So, what's been new?

Well, I did have a fun trip to the Midwest - my first time in the area. Let me tell you:

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CHICAGO, IL

I flew off to Chicago in the early morning on Wednesday the 8th. My hair was still wet and I had to check my guitar at skycap. The flight was smooth - mini pretzels and a teen flick - there was an elderly gentleman in the window seat talking to me about his time in the Air Force. I arrived in the Windy City in one solid piece, and thankfully so did my guitar.

After waiting 2 hours for a shuttle to my hotel, I finally shoved the swipe key into the lock of what must have been the tiniest hotel room ever. I do not mean tiny in square feet, I mean, as in made for a child.

Not often could you call a toilet "cute", but there it was, the cutest little toilet, matched with the tiniest little sink, and the tiniest little chair… and strangely enough, the smallest "double bed" I've ever seen in my existence. I had just enough time to get ready for the show; I flat ironed and ironed, put on a face, and took a 5-minute taxi ride to the club.

The Wise Fools Pub, dark, yet quite comfortable, was a quite cool little bar/venue. And there I met my touring partners Joe and Ryan from Mission 19, a quite amazing duo from Denver.

Psyched up and nervous, I checked in, tuned up, and played my best. Hey, and believe it or not, and never having been to Chicago before, people had actually come to see me. Voila!

KANSAS CITY, MO

The night in the tiniest hotel room ever was quite nice, actually; especially when I woke up and remembered there was a Jamba Juice right next door. Go Razmataz.

Joe and Ryan swung by to pick me up at 10am - off to Kansas.

It was about a 9 hour drive, but I entertained myself with the entire first season of the Gilmore Girls playing through my iBook in the back of the van, many gas/drink/bathroom stops, and a healthy amount of car sickness. Plus, along the way there was the most strikingly wondrous sunset I've ever seen - a burning orange sky in the west, and a glowing rainbow in the darkening east. Odd, but beautiful.

Just in time for sound check, we arrived at the Grand Emporium. Now this was a hip club; I heard it had been recently redone, trading in it's old dingy look for a clean and stylish, slightly retro look. I like it. Joe, our manager, was there too - wearing that cool leather cowboy-scape button-up that he always does. Nice.

Sound check was nice, the sound system smoked! I also met the sweetest woman and her husband - ever. They had come to see me, and even brought CDs to sign.

The show went well - I think I played better than I had in Chicago. I felt more comfortable with myself.

Mission 19 and I stayed at (manager) Joe's house that night, we watched episodes of "Life's Unsolved Mysteries" and talked sports. I think football, but for all I know we could have been talking hockey.

DENVER, CO

I downed a glass of OJ and a blueberry bagel, read the paper, looked at all of the family photos on the walls and waited for Joe and Ryan to wake up. We left only an hour behind schedule… Back in the van, up for another 9-hour stint of Gilmore Girls and Arizona Teas - off to Denver.

- Before we go on, let me briefly just tell you about our tour vehicle:

Mission 19, road warriors, had the perfect band-mobile. This was a huge 15 passenger Chevy van, decked with a DVD player, video game station, iPod wired stereo, XM radio, cooler, and radar detector. The three middle benches had been removed for a place to nap on the floor, the bench in the back is where I sat. Picture that; it was quite funny really. They'd frequently turn around and call down the van, "Slankard! You doin' all right?

This venue, the Soiled Dove, was bigger than the previous two, 500 person capacity, and it would definitely reach capacity for this show. This was Mission 19's home crowd.

I met up with my attorney, Beth, and another one of her clients, Melissa - and we went to what I could say was my first Sushi experience. It was pretty good, all the vegetable rolls I could eat.

Back at the Dove, the room was packed, and while doing hair in the bathroom I met a crowd of girls who had brought CDs for me to sign. They had seen me on What Not to Wear and went directly to Amazon.com… How cool is that?

By the end of the night I had gotten at least three different requests for either Sweet Home Alabama, or Free Bird, though someone did request It's All My Fault which made me quite happy.

THE BIG ALMOST BANG

The end of the night never seemed to come, and though I was enjoying myself thoroughly, by 3:00 am I was ready to go back to the hotel. Mission 19's Joe and his brother Peter had kindly offered to take me back to my hotel after packing up.

After everything was neatly loaded in the van, Joe went back to the venue for a last minute check and Peter and I chatted in the parking lot. People were still out in downtown, shuffling off home, out of the cold after the bars closed.

In the middle of a radar detectors discussion, Peter and I were interrupted by a rather robust looking man in his 30s. He was wearing only a huge pair of jeans and a white wife-beater, which he promptly took off - revealing a plethora of gargantuan, unreadable tattoos and some solid gold "bling".

"Oh boy…" Peter said.

I kid you not, the man then started to "tell us about the Pride" and "school us on the [insert gang name here]" flashing gang signs and puffing out his chest.

I promptly turned my tail feathers and fled behind Peter who tried to convince our friend we were from Louisiana and knew nothing about gangs.

"It's cool, man, you're cool…" Peter assured him we were not the fighting type.

Even without the accent, the Louisianan thing seemed to be working until our "friend's friend" showed up - who walked directly over to Peter and gave him a slight push. He then grabbed my shoulder and told me to "take my boyfriend home". I was waiting for a gun or something sharp, but instead, when he finally let go of my shoulder, Peter and I took the opportunity to walk away swiftly, into the van and lock the doors.

We peered out the windows and noticed at least a dozen of our "friends" walking up.

"The cops are coming, dude" and they drove away… in the two trucks that were parked directly on either side of our van. Duh. So that's why they were picking on us.

Joe was whistling when he climbed back behind the wheel.

"You'll never guess what just happened to us," Peter laughed.

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And now I'm back home… planning the next tour!

Happy New Year!

Yours,
megan

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