earlier tonight i had an impending sense of doom about this trip. about being miserable and unable to fit in.
the cure is as old as the anxiety. i must become drunk.
luckily i am in charge of the power hour. my duty is to make a power hour mix that will excite the party. my secret hope is that the party is too drunk by the 45th minute to notice that the song list has gone from katy perry to outkast to santigold to ryan adams to edward sharpe and the magnetic zeros.
oooh and what if i ended it with some elliott smith?
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