in my journal after orlando:
"Jets to Brazil was so rad. The new songs are brilliant (as expected) and the show was flawless. I can't wait to see them again tonight.
Blake's gonna be like "yo Krystan. Long time no see." Then I'll be like "ya man.. We should chill sometime back at my crib."
Schwarzenbach is ghetto fabulous.
p.s. He quit smoking. He's on the patch. So we'll have our hero for a few more years."
and after tampa:
"so the sound in the orpheum was a lot better than at the social. i was very happy about this. i though "good, maybe tonight, i'll actually be able to hear something besides blake's guitar." but no. 8 million of the most obnoxious teeny boppers decided to push their way to the front and scream along with blake in my ears. he seemed nearly as annoyed as me and the rest of the crowd were, but they seemed more encouraged by our grimaces than discouraged. the worst part was that they talked during every guitar solo and every break.
so i'm fed up. i grab the fattest one by the shoulders and tell her:
"listen up! i completely understand and share your excitement for this band, however, i paid $12 to hear blake sing these words, not you."
i guess this was stupid of me because they sang louder just to spite me. also, their mid-song conversations turned from "isn't blake so hot? i love jawbreaker" to "look how fat she is. what a cow" and "calm down. you aren't allowed to be excited at a concert. you should get a muzzle."
i would blame it on tampa's persistant shittiness, but they said they were from miami. miami must suck.
eventually, blake went into his infamous "i appreciate your zeal, but..." speech that Kevin and I quote so frequently, which seemed to quiet them down a bit, though the damage was already done. the band was fed up. so they shortened their set by one song, playing "sweet avenue" as the girls had so adamantly demanded, but forgoing "wish list," one of my favorite of the new songs."
more to come after gainesville tomorrow.