She drove it like she stole it.

Short Version:

Saturday:
Drive to Toronto with M sleeping most of the way.
Check in to hotel, walk too far to have some tapas on Queen Street.
Sunday:
Go to Peach Berserk on Sunday and spend too much money, go record shopping with M.
Have dinner and beer with M and Red.
Drink waaaaaayyyy too much.
Monday:
Sleep in, run some errands, get stressed over tonight’s show.
Rock out up front with M, Red and a handful of others.
Drive Tad, Red and B to a great bar in Toronto where I meet a guy from The Constantines who I try to get to marry me to keep me in the country and a really sweet girl who I likewise try to get to marry me.
Curse Galen for not coming out.
Chat with Franz.
Run out of Canadian cash.
Tuesday:
Drop off M on Queen Street from where he will proceed to the airport on his way to San Fran
Drive to Montreal with Red.
QUOTE #1: Obvious American mom to her 8-ish year old daughter: “It’s Canada, they speak French here.” Daughter gives me confused look.
Arrive Montreal and check in, having to carry too many too heavy bags up too many too hot steps.
QUOTE #2: As hotel attendant tells me where to park: “See that castle over there?”
Cab to the show, meet Red and others.
Chat with Galen.
Rock out.
Galen pours me some Jamesons from his bottle on the stage during the break in Hoodrat.
I can die peacefully now.
Go with the guys to a bar down the street.
Meet Bobby for the first time.
Try to learn how to speak French, fail miserably, Red gets my ass home somehow.
Wednesday:
I have no idea how I was functioning.
Check out, the attendant gives me a croissant because I missed breakfast.
Retrieve my car at the castle.
NO SLEEP ‘TILL BROOKLYN.
Nav system fucks up.
Thursday:
Roam around Park Slope and eat breakfast for $4, including $1 tip.
Freak out because I call S and he says that the first band is playing and I’m NOT READY.
Furiously get ready and almost run to Prospect Park.
Unbeknownst to me, the guys I’m meeting have purchased the $50 tickets for the front section.
Those guys . . . buy . . . me . . . a . . . ticket and I cry.
We rock the fuck out and meet other board members (so, I’m a dork, shut up).
Go to O’Connors and hang with new friends and meet up with Tad, Galen and sort of Craig.
Meet the THS lawyer and he asks me to call him “daddy.” (To answer your question, yes.)
Drink too much and stumble back to MD’s.
Friday:
Love to the Natural History Museum for stating the correct age of the planet.
Dinner with C&H who demand that I say with them next time I’m in NYC.
Do something that is so secret, I don’t even tell M.
Saturday:
Hang with more new friends, drink, go to karaoke bar.
Have late-night NYC pizza.
Sunday:
Ice Cube and NWA said it best.
And I’m home.