Ooh, I'll be the one who'll break my heart I'll be the one to hold the gun. - Feist

On tour I'm so invisible to myself, it's just one task after another. In a way as much as I love reading autobiographies, I'm fascinated with them partially because I would have no sense of how to talk about my own life with any perspective. Like half of what I like about autobiographies isn't what happen in their lives, it's ... I'm so curious on how they remember things that happened. Then I think, oh maybe it's not accurate, maybe it's just the way they need to couch an event, they need to remember something that happened 30 years ago as a certain way in the present to make it, you know bearable, and so then half the adventure of reading an autobiography is thinking like, "oh, what does it say about them in the present that they need to think about the past like that," if they sound really altruistic or if they sound really benevolent and kind. Very seldom do you see someone say, "yeah, I was a real asshole," or if they do it's a charming asshole, it's not the mean spirited person, you know?

Helping the kids out of their coats
But wait the babies haven't been born
I'm unpacking the bags and setting up
And planting lilacs and buttercups
But in the meantime I've got it hard
Second floor living without a yard.

Old dirt road (Mushaboom)
Knee deep snow (Mushaboom)
Watching the fire as we grow (Mushaboom)