The Saddest Girl Ever

It's beginning to sink in that I'm not going to get to see Wilco at the Warsaw on June 26... or at any of their New York shows. Somehow I missed the pre-sale and now I can't afford to pay some asshole $225 for a ticket. If I could afford it, believe me I would, but I can't. And that sucks. I can't believe that Wilco will be in my city and I won't be there to see it.

For anyone out there with an extra ticket, I'm on the verge of selling myself into prostitution here...

My Favorite Part

Everyone keeps asking me what was my favorite part of my European Adventure. And it was strangely non-European, in a way.

Imagine spending the day in a Dutch market with a koffie (not that watered down drip crap they serve here, but actual espresso with a little cookie) in one hand and the best damn gelato ever, in the other. Then, riding a bike to a church turned concert venue to see Wilco. Not only did I get to see Wilco, I was right up front. And I was making eyes at Jeff Tweedy the entire time; whether or not he was making eyes back can be debated. To end a perfect day, I had frites mayo for dinner and rode a bike home in the light rain.

Does life get any better than that? I think not.