but the devil take the women for they never can be easy

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I’m feeling super &$(@*$% autumnal, even though it’s August sixteenth and Spirit Halloween isn’t even open yet. But I can’t help it – the tide has turned. Once I’ve been to Maine, once I’ve baptized my body in salt and surf, it’s aaalll about sweaters, gourds, and something ineffably fae in the air.

I’ve listened to the Dubliners’ “Whiskey in the Jar” one too many times of late, and I’ve started to envision myself lonesome and boot-shod on storied country roads. Irish music does that to me. I’m a journeygirl. A highwaychick. Gotta get my favorite cloak out of storage.

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XV

compliments and complements

I saw my favorite band tonight. I’d mentioned the show in a previous post, and tonight it was finally here.

Barry Privett, the frontman, signed my ticket stub, and then I got my picture taken with him. I’m posting it even though I look egregiously deranged (or “impeccably blissful”. We’ll go with that.). He told me he liked my outfit. Hear that? The sexy-ass frontman of my favorite band ever (full disclosure: I’ve seen them twice before) liked my outfit.