Dear Sinister, I'm sorry I've been away so often, Sinister, I've been quite busy with school and work and all that jazz that seems to interupt my frenzied Internet addiction. I've been quite jealous of the West coast comrades for being able to enjoy all these wonderful B&S shows, and not only that, but Juicy Lucy and I discovered yet another reason to be jealous of the Seattle listees--according to Carson Daly, we should all be seething with jealousy because those lucky Seattle folk get to see <gasp> Alanis Morrisette and Pearl Jam ALL IN ONE NIGHT. Let me say, I was up all night daydreaming about the possibility of flying to Seattle in one hurried, frantic huff, glazed over by fandom for Mr. Edward Vedder. Just to say, my Jaw was a little bit on the ground when I read a certain listees post about how she didn't care for "the guy that opened for B&S". I was shocked, I will not lie. How could one regard The Legendary Jonathan Richman as just "a guy", and also, juxtaposed with a dislike for him and his music? It's appalling, let me say. I won't lie. But that's just a side note--on a regular note, the real note, I have been enjoying the company of a certain Ms. Lucy Alder throughout this weekend, my first proper Sinister mini-picnic, and it has been grand--on Friday night we drank gin and tonics and debated as to who was the worst dressed in the joint, as a balding man with a mullet serenaded us with "Joy to fishes in the deep blue sea.... "... he stumbled by us, staggering, and said, "I'm sorry, I'm drunk." I appreciated his honesty. The weather has been representin' in regular Colorado style, bipolar, confused, always carry an umbrella--it's rained heaps. Even started to snow. I love the feeling of the sunshine on my face along with a startlingly cool breeze filtering through the windows. Last night I took it upon myself to complete a difficult task--I was on the drive home from Denver, the lights approaching on the other side of the highway visible from miles and miles away, blurring together to look like one enormous light hurling itself through space--the radio was playing some vague, familiar hits, including an acoustic set of Better than Ezra (I had no interest. Can you blame me? I switched it off). My sister was in the seat next to me, snoring lightly--all of a sudden, I tried to imagine every person I have ever known and what they were doing in that particular slice of one moment--My friend Ian milling around his apartment looking for soap for which to wash his feet, Nicole asleep, clutching her teddy bear--Sebastian on his drive home from the mountains, Lisa and Sarah asleep, they too snoring lightly--my parents, two mounds of mashed potatoes under piles of blankets, SportsCenter blaring from a vacuum of silence--and even some of you Sinister folk that I can only be forced to imagine because I have never encountered your friendly faces--an early English morning and Ken Chu engaged in consuming glistening cans of Red Bull--Kirsten Kenyon being awoken by her dog jumping on her bed with wet paws--it becomes so difficult, so time consuming to try and imagine this, but at the same time, it just slithers by like a carousel of slides, one after the other, next, next, click, wait, go back... it's like my mind stopped even trying, these images just entered my mind--sort of like how Ray suddenly thinks of the Stay Puft Marshmallow man in "Ghost Busters". I simply wasn't even trying. I guess what I'm getting at is this; you may not have been thinking of me last night, around 12:30 midnight, but I certainly was thinking of you, Sinister. Love and dog-eared paperback novels, Mandee May +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister@missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo@missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+