Fuck
Jens Lekman is sold out. Apparently, the tickets went on sale weeks ago, and they sold out fast. I almost cried at the Rockinghorse and Skinny's counters. I'll see if I can get a ticket at the door, but I'm not too optimistic.
Anyway, after this devastation I sucked it up and said to myself, Well, I suppose that's my fault. I guess I'll go to Iron & Wine after all.
But, no. Iron and Wine is sold out.
I swear, I almost screamed. It was taking a lot of self-control to not shriek and scream and start pushing things off shelves and generally reenact Nately's whore (bruto!) on the nearest person. I took a copy of Rave on the way out, and reading it on the bus calmed me down (Feist is on the cover!).
Notwithstanding anything said up until this point, I'm not as devastated as I should be. Maybe I'm in shock, and later is when the real pain will hit me. I'm valiantly trying to console myself by choosing between Clap Your Hands and múm, but as far as I'm concerned, they're not really in the same league as Jens Lekman. I think I'll opt for the latter band, as two night gigs and one afternoon festival, in which the former is one of the bands, will drain me financially and physically until all that's left is a big pile of Huy-skin.
Brianna: if you so much as say anything along the lines of, Ha! Sucked in!, I will beat your ass.