| the Journal | the Cult of Saint Cecilia

November 27th, 2003.
It's Thanksgiving morning and we're going back to Jennie's feeling pretty good about ourselves. 10 CDs sold tonight - almost a record. Friendly people, including a guy who's giving us a two page list of every venue he's found in Denver, Fort Collins, Boulder and Colorado Springs. A good night indeed.

And a waitress who doth kept the ginger-ale a flowin.

And it's Thanksgiving Day and we're not sure what we're doing for the day. I've been away from family before for Thanksgiving, but this is the first time I've been away from friends as well. It reminds me of working the graveshifts for the holidays back in school. Self-inflicted loneliness - double pay.

Tomorrow - well, we've had an invitation to Thanksgiving festivities up in the mountains - but the inviter is going home to Minnesota for Thanksgiving, which makes us feel too uncomfortable to take up the offer of strangers - and it seemed like one of those music parties that is probably overly dependant on the drug side of friendly musician-ness. Sigh.

Not to leap to conclusions or anything. And I probably shouldn't even write that out since I don't want to offend anyone if I'm totally wrong - but we're on our way back to Jennie's, and my throat is on fire from singing and the cold, dry air - and we're looking for something - anything - that would be open and interested in feeding us... but there's only an automated carwash (in 24 degree weather?!?!) and a liquor store. Even the gas stations are nothing more than lonely oases of soda machine logo lights.

Jennie will be getting together with Brandt, her wonderful boyfriend of the past 6 years - and we've taken up a lot of her time, so I don't begrudge him the fact that he wants her ALONE for the day... but it's a little rough because ... well... what do you do on Thanksgiving Day? I guess the movie houses are open... but that could be a bit pricey - though we ARE all going on a double date to see the Matrix 3


on IMAX before they leave us to our own devices. Mewf.

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