So I sat down last night and talked with Mom. I told her I really wanted to see the Super Furry Animals in Chicago in a month and would understand if she said no. I was pretty sure that she would give me some lecture on saving my money and how I'm throwing my life away with rock and roll, but she saved it. She said okay and to "be careful" in a really eery voice.

Now what does "be careful" mean coming from my mother's mouth? Is it to look both ways before crossing the street? To not talk to strangers (like I've ever heeded to that advice)? To not spend my money on ridiculous Chicago souveniers? To not spend my money at unknown record stores? To not get gang banged by a bunch of tripping Welshmen? I'm afraid to ask her what her warning meant, just because I'm scared that the wrath of God will be unleashed before me. Besides, I don't want her thinking that I have no common sense to figure out what she could be implying. But really, what on earth is she trying to tell me? The way she said it just really creeped me out.

The next step in my frenzy is to book my airline ticket. It looks like Vanguard has the cheapest deals. I know it's like the Yugo of airlines, but I've never been one to expect an airplane to look like the Taj Mahal. Throw me on a FedEx carrier and give me a parachute, I'll be fine. I can never understand it when people bitch about not flying discount lines because they're sub-par. Especially domestic flights. I can really understand not wanting to be cuddled against a burlap seat for 9 hours for an international flight, but if you're only going to be buckled into a chair for two hours, well, bring some felt or a jacket and deal with it. ahem so yeah anyways, if you see a cheap flight to Chicago from DFW, let me know. The lowest I've been able to find so far is about $150 with taxes and such. Not bad, but still - that's $150 of my stash. Do you know how many hours of b.s. I have to go through to earn that much? Too many.

Next week I might be purchasing my plane ticket to London for the end of October. Aaron presented me with some painful information this morning. The Bernard Butler gig I was wanting to go to is actually a support slot for Texas. At Wembley. Shoot me in the ass, no way. As much as I would *love* to see Bernard Butler, a)I'm not going to a Wembley show unless it's Live Aid II and b)Texas! Ack! No! Fate worse than death. So the Bernie experience is a no-go and I'm looking for other gigs to go to while in London. Stupid Sharleen, ruining my plans. Grrrr.

...BUT! I'm going to Chicago! Is it worth complaining about anything if I get to see my favorite group in a teensy little club that will only let the big kids in for a few bucks? Not at all. Now if my dreams of Gruff dissing me every night would stop, I'd feel a lot better. Really, I keep having dreams with different scenarios where Gruff shows up and starts dissing me. I'm starting to get a complex.

Now to tackle the last minute stuff everyone handed me at 5 pm. Is everybody on earth this inconsiderate? Or do I just keep running into people that have never learned any manners? Sheesh.