February 2, 2003

somehow, the birds learned
how to sing in this city
maybe I will, too

February 4, 2003

Cowboy hats. Tight spangled shirts.
Dusty pick-up trucks. But they loved us.
The crowd was so enthusiastic they
almost seemed.. hungry.
It was scary.

February 5, 2003

Noah, our manager, says he’s been
spoiled by the private jet—he can
barely stand to fly commercial
when he has to. I don’t get it.
It still smells like a plane inside,
and the bathrooms aren’t any bigger.

February 12, 2003

Mark f***ing sucks. Like being able
to play guitar makes him some kind of god.
He’s been walking around all day like
he’s f***ing Jimi Hendrix or something.
Noooo, we can’t change that note. Why?
Because he wrote it. I reminded him that
Jewel can play the guitar, too.

February 13, 2003

los angeles
I think Noah was hoping that visiting
Leonard Cohen’s Buddhist retreat up
in the hills would help smooth things out.
I guess it did, but not like he thought.
Mark kept asking when someone was
going to burst into flame or lie on a bed
of nails. When he found out they didn’t
even have a bed of nails, he offered to go
back and get his gun out of the van so they
could show us how nothing really mattered.
He was just joking, but they didn’t get it.
At the end we weren’t really getting along,
but at least we hated everyone else more than
each other.

February 14, 2003

las vegas
He didn’t call again this year.
Why should he?
I won a couple thousand at roulette, as always.

February 16, 2003

new orleans
I guess by now you’ve figured out that the number
I gave you actually rings down to the pool at the Palms.
Sometimes I try to be funny, but I’m not. I’m sorry.
I couldn’t sleep at all last night, thinking about you.
I know you’re different from the other girls, baby.
I really think we could have something, if you’re willing to be patient. Write me.

February 18, 2003

colorado springs
You hear about the red rock stadium, but there’s
nothing like really seeing it. After the show these
girls came up who had made us cookies. I was like,
shit! Who knows what’s in these, right? Weed,
or biological chemistry? Noah wasn’t around to
help me. I didn’t know what to do. So I ate one!
But I seem fine, today.

February 21, 2003

The Harvard DJ wanted to know about our songwriting
technique. Mark told him, “profanity.” “But we still
recognize it as profanity,” I added. “Which is what we
think sets us apart from other bands.”

February 22, 2003

niagara falls
Have you been to the US side of the falls, man?
I guess nobody has, and that’s the problem. I think we
should annex those four miles of Canada and get them
to stop shining those f***ing ugly lights over at our land.

February 23, 2003

It was nice, sharing a stage with Dylan. Joni Mitchell,
on the other hand—I never really got that.

February 24, 2003

They don’t let you sleep on the sidewalk outside the gates
anymore. Can you believe that? I told them if Elvis were
still alive, he’d be fine with it. If Elvis were still alive,
a lot of things would be different.

February 25, 2003

The Rock City homecoming. You always fear for your life
a little bit when the crowd starts jumping at the Magic Stick,
but when we did our rave-up of “lullaby” I really thought
it might all come crashing down. It’s been a great month.
You guys have been nothing but beautiful to us. I don’t know
what we’re going to do without you.
Honey, write me and I’ll give you my home number. This time I promise.