Hello. It is 11 o'clock, the night before Dock Street. I am at Brooke's house in Stone Mountain, and we are going to leave tomorrow morning at about 8. Or such is the plan, anyway. Soon we will go to bed. Brooke and them have to go to Kroger first. See, that was real Southern right there.

On Wednesday I woke up nauseous and despite my better efforts I was -- okay, am -- still nauseous. I think a lot of it was nerves, but I honestly don't know. I was really close to deciding not to go. It seems trivial, since it's basically just two concerts and some people I know, but it was a torturous decision. (Hell, I may end up going home tomorrow morning if I don't think I can take it). But I was like, What am I going to do? Stay at home and feel better, but be miserable that I was missing everything; or be over five hours from home and probably even more miserable, and stressed out? After I got in the car with Brooke and Specka and Cha I felt better, and at her house I feel better still. And I am feeling better now. But who knows about tomorrow. My mother was giving dire warnings, sotto voce, about my going to the hospital in Charleston and what not. And she gave me a bunch of drugs. Good drugs. Helpful drugs. Anyway. I will just have to drink a lot of water and take drugs. Ha.

Dangit, I forgot to paint my toenails. Hmph. Maybe I can do it right quick before bed.

Yay, random people are signing my guestbook. That hardly ever happens to me. Applesmail is still fucked, though.