Instead I’m not. I’m drunk well a little drunk. Buzzed maybe. In Argentina. Feeling very connected to my life in LA and on line… but very far from. Probably not helping that Band of Horses is playing on the radio, at my heartstring. All nostalgy like. I should be packing. I should be packing. We’re getting on a bus to the airport for Peru in two hours. In 23 minutes it’s her birthday. How did I get here. Really though. How did I get to Argentina on someone else’s dime. I get to play on trash and they CLAP FOR IT. WEIRD. LIKE I SAID, I’M DRUNK. WELL BUZZED. WOOPS MUST’VE HIT THE caps lock key when I wasn’t looking. Where was I? Oh right. I should be packing. And I’m drunk, well buzzed. It’s cause I bought this bottle of Jameson at the grocery store to share with everybody, but everybody bought booze. So I ended up drinking more than I maybe should’ve and then I had to pack but I can’t pack the bottle for the next city for everybody. So I drank. And then I was told that I could. And Pooh was getting cornrows. Wait, what? Scott Pilgrim is pretty good. They just needed to make the girl more sympathetic. At the end we’re sort of rooting for Knives. And I don’t think we’re supposed to… Why is the guy from the Postal Service so whispery? It’s freaking me out. I should pack. Her birthday is in 15 min.