one sweet day, we'll be together

It is now only three horrible, dreary, meaningless days that I have to somehow live through until I see SUFJAN STEVENS, live in San Francisco....

Oh, my!

It is almost precisely one year since I first heard the brilliant album Illinoise, which is unusually coincidental. I was somewhat down at the time and remember distinctly thinking that albums like Illinoise are a good reason not to off yourself. Because, in the future I may find other music I love this much, and well you can't enjoy poetic lyrics, grand orchestration and such sweeping vision from six feet underground with earthworms in your eyeballs, can you? (This is of course somewhat hyperbole. I would be cremated.)

I would like to say that, although I know we have balcony seats, and he will probably be a small charming speck, and there will probably be someone fat and annoying sitting beside me, and he will probably not spy me in the audience and pull me up on stage with him a la Dancer in the Dark, and in fact he probably will not even consent to sign my cleavage, I am still ever so happy about this.

Maybe if I offer to mend his t-shirt?