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Returning to our previous conversation. (notes from an angry girl on tour in 1992)

Let's just get into it: Hola! It's me again - sorry to keep this constant barrage of mail but I'm SO LONELY!! Ack. It's the usual, and today (let's see, uh, Thursday, the 15th of...uhm, ah, yes: OCTOBER yay. On the autostrada from Rome to Foggia I'm bummin because I don't have enough energy to attempt to obtain a cup of coffee, and Adam has already shut down on us and his translating ability. So that's nice. Plus we're payin ghimt to treat us like shit this time, which makes Mike and I partucularily happy. It makes Rob nothing, 'cause he's just floating aimlessly now, sulking a lot more. Ah well. So I'm just watching the amazingly beautiful Italian (Adriatic) coast zip by. It's all so green and hilly, with these either sheer cliffs to the coast, or sort of a rolling hill that ends in a sandy beach with a fabulously blue ocean.But do we get to partake of any of it? Nah, we gotta go to Foggia to play another lame show I'm sure. Oh yeah, the other reason I'm so unenthusiastic...we spent last night at Forte again and everyone was telling me that there would also be a French band sleeping at Forte because their gig was canceled and we were thinking "wow wonder who that is?" 'cause we know a few damn French bands who play the same places. But no one could tell us which band it was - when we got back to Forte I walk through to the bar and all of the sudden my ol' pal Pierre from Bordeaux (underlined for emphasis) walks up and asks if I remmever him. Boy did I. Woo - knees go weak and I proceed to , yet again, be a total mushmouth blithering idiot. So, although we talked a lot and stuff and I got a very direct "write me", in the morning he kissed Mike goodbye more than me!? So maybe he and Mike were right all along and he's really into boys and it's all an elaborate sharade. Oh well. At any rate, it was very disheartening, but then, what isn't at this point? 10.16.92 Ohmigod

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