So the boss & I sleep in after tucking into the Viognier at dinner last night (although I make time for a bubble bath – pink water with gold stars leftover from yesterdays photo shoot floating in it – heavenly!) & soon we trade The Jurys Inn Islington for The Jurys Inn Leeds. We stock up on Marks & Spencer sandwiches for our 2½-hour train ride together – we play “the laminate game” – we have to each remember something significant from each show. It reminds us just how much ground we’ve covered since Sept 7th in Berlin. And still 6 more to go!
Our fearless leader meets us at the station & takes us to the hotel via the club. I am so happy to see everyone, it’s crazy! Dave & I settle up the Euro figures & head back to the club. For the third time (Barcelona, Madrid & now Reeds) we are in a freshly painted backstage area, so the high comes cheap. I skip dinner in favour of pulling merch from the trailer … the count is finally getting lower! It’s an uneventful show for me, except for vomit-girl, who pukes up all over my merch area, just missing my shirts & me. Gross. The girls mess with the set so I run in a few times and climb to Squids perch high above the crowd to witness the fun. I conquer my fear of heights for “Boys Wanna Be Her”!
The after-show action is nuts. Proof that we have all indeed cracked. I think in a good way, but The Jury’s out (Inn?) on that one. Peach, JD & I head off in search of late night food & end up hanging in a pizza joint with chav identical twins from Reeds, who inform us that gold is sooooo eighties, silver is now. Righto. A close bus call, we ride part of the way to Glasgow upstairs in the submarine, watching the fog roll in & looking for werewolves on the moors.
Day 35, Glasgow (The ABC)
I love this town. Even when it rains. And I love Sauciehall Street. Because “Nice’n’Sleazy” is on it. One of my favourite bars. As well as a great song by The Stranglers. All this (and stuff that is no one else’s business) is going through my mind when I awake outside The ABC. We have a while until load in, so Mark & I go in search of a post office so I can mail off une petite cadeaux to the newest babe in my life, Scout Alice Mazandarani – born 2 weeks ago to my lovelies Shane & Anton in Perth (yay guys!). 
SHANE, KIT, SCOUT & ANTON.
The rain comes tumbling down so I hide away in the bus, pretending it’s a little house with a tin roof, listening to The Aislers Set, Andrew Bird (c/o JD), Neutral Milk Hotel (cause it’s been too long) & American Analog Set. The ABC is a beautiful venue, and the backstage areas are deluxe, with floor to ceiling windows looking out over the street. My friend Lucy comes to visit me so we hang out by the merch booth and watch the show. She coins the phrase “Fuck Fay Wray”. I am going to have t-shirts made! The showers run hot & cold like our tempers – and the girls put on an amazing show. It just keeps getting better. A group of girls attack the inflatable penis with intensity that is frightening. Afterwards we rock some single malt care of the promoter on the submarine & head to NICE ‘N’ SLEAZY. I am psyched. They are playing Le Tigre as we walk in, which brings a wry smile to JD’s face as she slinks out the front door for 3 minutes. I am single-malted all the way & celebrate my return to Glasgee with a new NICE’N’SLEAZY t-shirt. You should see my smile right now. Damn, it don’t take much to make me happy! Good company, a good bar, a new t-shirt & some adventure ahead! We are back on the bus for some more TV, and some road watching on the way to Manchester. Upstairs front lounge is my new favourite place.
Day 36, Manchester England England (The Academy 2).
This is the third time I’ve woken up next to the bins at Manchester Academy. Seems as if this is the only part of town I’m destined to see. Dylan & I head off in search off a full-English breakfast and shoot the breeze for an hour. It’s nice. The breakfast is not. I head into the venue to see what I can do – help load in & sort things out. The promoter does my head in with his loud English boom and his pretensions of taking care of business. It’s obvious he’s not. But that’s his way, so I get out of it. The show is sold out, and we are expecting to rock the house. Sam heads off on a shopping mission; JD and I find drunken Mancunians in the park. Where the hell is Mani? This is the independent republic of Mancunia.
I am in the bar so I miss what turns out to be a killer of a show. I pop in to the dressing room after the show and Peaches gives me the low-down. No wonder the crowd were so hyped up! We & Humanzi, our Irish support, head to Big Hands for more cocktails. Its hysterical and messy and just the way we like it! We rock the 2:00am bus call & the terrible threesome sit up in the back lounge watching “Plison Bleak” & shivering under the duvet. We try to sleep early as everyone is filled with nervous excitement for the big one in London. Bring in on L-town!
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