Blame it on the risk-takers

Coming back from Europe has been pretty spectacular indeed. For the first 3 or four days at home I felt precisely like Hitler's dick due to the mind and body-ravaging jet lag. My body is totally confused by the lack of stimulation and the presence of both rich and abundant food. I basically experience every side effect of my body's needs bar the most obvious ones. When I don't eat I don't feel hungry I just get cranky and then fall over. When I have to go to the bathroom I sort of just go, like a horse. That's actually not true, but it's a clue to the confused state my head is in these days. After this weekend I have a few weeks of leisure ahead of me and, in spite of the fact that it is what I spend my days doing anyways, I have a handful of shows to go to. Usually I shy away from loud noises on my time off, but I make the odd exception.















The first day I was back I went for a drive up the coast and wandered around the beach for a bit.

It was foggy and cold, but also quiet and desolate, mostly due to the fact that it was foggy and cold.















It is nice to be back in SF. The fog has lifted for a few days. It's still cool outside, but I don't really mind. I am verging on total contentedness if I can get my head around what day of the week it is. This morning I woke up feeling rather refreshed having slept through the night for the first time in weeks.















I went to go see Batman yesterday at the Imax downtown. It was pretty great. Just about everyone on the last tour was bummed that the movie didn't come out in Europe when we were there, and besides a thing or two may have been lost in translation had we gone to see it in France or Spain. Jake, the merch guy was meeting his girlfriend at the airport and having her drive him straight to the theatre. Devotion. I gave it a few days, but was still pretty into it.















This weekend we are off to Vancouver for one show that is starting to sound like more trouble than it's worth. The single day involves flying into Seattle and then driving between five and eight hours up to Canada. Such is my life. Harley is there today with Interpol and has already reported that the festival site is 'a mixture of talc-like dirt and manure-covered hay.' I'm going to pack my boots and some hand sanitizer and hope the next few days just flies by so that I can continue my well deserved lethargy.