The Bear and the Maiden Fair. Or something.

I’m attending the Bear on the Square music festival in the small mountain town of Dahlonega, Georgia. Since I’m an idiot, I waited until last week to rent lodging, and had to settle for something that, while not too far from the town, is still pretty isolated. I thought I would enjoy a nice, quiet getaway, but now that I’m here, it’s a little too quiet. I mean I can’t hear a freakin’ sound. It’s like the tank in Altered States, but with bugs.

So of course, as a woman alone in the woods, my thoughts run to slasher movies. And now as nice as this little place is, I’m regretting renting a place where, should it come to that, it would take months to find my body.

And look what I just found in the kitchen:

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I kid you not.

This is not helpful.

Fixin’ to die.

Heading to Black 13 this weekend to finish a tattoo that was started in April (yes, another one. I know. I’m done after this, I sort of promise except I have my fingers crossed so don’t hold me to it).

Black 13 is located in Nashville, Tennessee, a/k/a “Music City.” Musician that I am, I booked a hotel near Music Row, the center of the country music industry. I’m bringing my guitar, and I’m going to set up on the sidewalk and perform a song I’ve written specifically for the city of Nashville and the state of Tennessee.

It’s called “Fuck Your Truck.”

What could possibly go wrong?