Please, for the love of whoever killed Lilly Kane, no one let me write a paper on a musician again. Because somehow my crazy brain had me work Sigur Rós (what? revolutionizing the guitar! it works!) into my Jimi Hendrix paper and now I'm just getting maudlin and distracting myself by listening to Voodoo Chile and then Svefn-G-Englar in succession
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Oh, word. Sad, sad, sad, but word!
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The pissiness my dad was having was mostly because he didn't want to drop me off in Boston, then pick me up again late. So, will this be okay?
*crosses fingers*
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But never fear! I'm trying to work something out with my friend Anna. She goes to Emerson and I called her to ask if we could crash at her dorm (which happens to be super-close to the theater) that night. I had to leave a message and hopefully she'll get back to me soon.
Um, and if this doesn't work? Beg your dad? Maybe bribery would work.
(Question: where are you staying? Maybe it's accessible by T and I could come and get you so your dad would only have to pick you up.)
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I'm staying at a family friend's house, apparently. She lives right off of Harvard square in Cambridge.
So, either we can figure out the train situation or my dad will submit to drive me, but I'm crossing my fingers that your friend will let us crash! I'm packing up my computer now, so give me a call when you find anything out. :)
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