10:48 am | 22 November 2003 | road notes

i'm in Palm Springs. it is super-mega-dry and my skin is doing one of those the-desert-floor-before-the-rains things*. i can only hope that when i finally get some lotion up on this bitch, all kinds of desert toads won't come barrelling out of my nostrils.

We drove almost 15 hours yesterday. There was an ill-advised stop at the El Paso Barnes & Noble, where i hemorrhaged money on cds (despite, as Krystal noted, ALREADY HAVING ALL 900 CDS I OWN WITHIN IMMEDIATE REACH WHILE DRIVING). El Paso is stinky. i have realized that high altitudes make me crabby; seriously, anything above about 2500 feet and you might as well just squeeze a lemon on my ass and get out your claw-cracker, 'cos it's a Red-Lobster-style Queen Crabfest in Claudeland (which see next paragraph). No can deal. It's probably because i can't get enough oxygen, and with my already-shitty circulation, the constant about-to-black-out-ness of it all pushes me over the edge. I can't even sing PJ Harvey in full ripping mode without getting kinda woozy.

Lately i am referring to myself in the third person a lot more, like being at some crazy Austin bar going "yeah, Le Monde doesn't really hang with bands whose lyrics are shitty." This is weird, especially since it's a nom-de-plume and not my actual name at all. Or maybe that's the only way it makes sense. I'll be back in LA in two hours. clm.

*that's how i miss you, dudes. like the desert misses the rain.

Hey, this week (11/20) was Vodka Catatonic's one-year anniversary. Please pour some of your 40 out for me. No, i mean, pour it out ON me. Into my mouth. I THIRST FOR SWEET ALCOHOL!