People,

This weekend Fooled By April will embark on our very last roadtrip. Pete is packing the scrabble, Jordan has his lead foot handy, Gordon probably has 90 metric tons of carrots and I will most likely be gassy. It's very bittersweet.

The end of the band has been sort of like watching an aunt you love die of cancer. You know the she is in pain and that her death will in many ways be a blessing, but you also can't bear to lose her. Yes, I know this metaphor is very lame, but I can't really think of another way to describe it. Alternately I want to just be done with the whole thing or I want to quit my job and take another push at rock stardom.

And so I will be sad when I get dropped off at my house in the wee hours of Saturday morning but I'll probably also be pissed that Pete beat me in nine straight games of scrabble. Fucker.