Apparently, there is hella driving involved in touring? LIKE HELLA DRIVING YOU GUYS.I had a genius idea of playing fans on Words With Friends, but there is no service in the boonies. Rough life! I have to be careful, or else I’ll start playing something scary like Warcraft and be a recluse with pet ferrets.
On the upside, I get to dress up pretty and perform in front of crazy amounts of people every night. Hollis and I have decided to set up our stuff at the merch table after the show, and it’s been really incredible to give hugs and connect with people. My heart literally swells at the stories I’ve heard.
Spokane had the most welcoming audience. They were kind and wanted to talk and say hi and give hugs. GOOD NEWS, I’M A REALLY TALENTED HUGGER. I had delicious cocktails with a dear friend of mine, 2 blocks away (dessert martinis, anyone?). Our drive in the morning wasn’t terribly long. Wanz is a hella good driver; I guess he used to drive delivery trucks, so we’re super thankful for him.
I mean, look at that shit. Missoula was off the hook last night. Crazy, but off the hook. The line outside was unbelievable. Usually, security makes sure Ben is super protected after the show. For those of you that don’t know, Mackstacks had to cancel his meet and greets and interviews due to vocal issues. I know he wishes he could connect, but it’s doctor’s orders and he’s gotta save his voice for the rest of the tour. That said, two ridiculous girls snuck into the back of the venue as we were loading up in the van. Also, two ridiculous guys mooned the tour bus. Like, forreal? Show some respect, my peeps.
I digress. The drive to Boise is about 6-7 hours, so we decided to drive about 3 hours after the Missoula show. We didn’t arrive at the hotel until 3am, and of course had to be back on the road at 9. Feeling pretty hardcore right now. As we drove through Idaho, Andrew Joslyn (violin, composer), had to pee real bad. We pulled off in some very very small town (pop.350), and pulled up outside of this treat:
Like, WHAT IN THE FUCKETY FUCK. Andrew went to the bathroom at a nearby gas station, because he was scared to step foot inside (he was wearing a V-neck and a cardigan, god forbid).
We are now in Boise, happy to be away from the racism of Cambridge, ID (also also: Cambridge? Seriously? That’s the name?) Soundcheck is soonsies. I think we’re going to rock it tonight. I have a good feeling. Boise, I am glad to be back.
Here is something I wrote last night after we arrived to our hotel in the middle of nowhere:
It is one of those nights where you’re in the middle of Idaho and it is
darker, quieter, and more sparse than any loneliness has ever brought to you.
I am on my first real tour. I do not feel like I earned this tour.
I have fans that know my name and I sign autographs
to girls who are crying, girls who are telling me that I
changed their lives with my voice, with my songs, and none of it
Or all of it is maybe too real.
I played to an empty venue only once.
I have not spent years trying to make connections or
practicing or trying and failing.
All of this; everything is simply too easy.
I am struggling to accept this
and ride it out without questioning the permanence in anything.
I must be fluid. It is the time for no expectations.
We drove in the dark for hours and have reached our mid-point between venues.
I can literally see every single star that exists, ever. I am watching individual reds
and browns fall from foreign trees outside of our nameless hotel at 3am.
When they are quietly broken from their mother,
they land on the concrete with an audible and satisfying crackle.
Next city, I will hold, like my heart is open
and vulnerable and will try to grapple
with a chorus of ‘love is patient, love is kind,’
from the mouths of many.
I am humbled, and for once,
have no metaphor for this.