ghetto surgery.

salt lake city, utah.

i'm sitting in our booth right now, someone around here has a wireless connection. all i can see looking straight ahead is rolling green hills, which are alive with the sound of Broadway Calls.

there are a lot of full-on scenekids at this show.. also a lot of dust. it's a GREAT venue but the kids have kicked up a lot of dust from the grass and i'm in flipflops so i feel dirty. eh. that's what baby wipes are for, right.

earlier today S performed surgery on my foot with a box cutter, pocket knife scissors and a pair of tweezers while i sat on top of the cooler and screamed. here's the thing - i very rarely put on shoes when we stop at gas stations or whatever. you're lucky if i'm wearing a bra, also. so this morning i woke up in the super-8 and my foot was killing me, the whole ball of my foot and once i cleaned off the grime with baby wipes i found that the source of the intense pain was a tiny black dot embedded under my skin. i tried squeezing it out with fingers and tweezers but nothing and it hurt so damn bad. So I asked S to get it for me because I just can't hurt myself, my reflexes automatically stop one. So she cut into my foot with a box cutter - the thing was healed in - and eventually got it out - it was a 3mm thorn and the second she pulled it out, the pain was completely relieved. what is with that? then i shaved my legs sitting on the cooler also.

later on, V informed me that my panties were showing - my old faithful favorite shorts, old cotton plaid ones, hand me downs from my cousins, probably 15 years old - had worn out at the ass. so i had two massive rips. win. i am now wearing a pair of Treaty of Paris booty shorts that say SWEET DREAMS SUCKER courtesy of Mike when he came to visit me. I am so not into the idea of him leaving the tour tomorrow.

oh and we had this rad conversations with two dudes about growing up Mormon.

mmm, dust in my lungs. see you later.