Here's an excerpt to show you her writing chops and hopefully encorage you to click through:
Dinner with an old friend, T., at a Thai restaurant does nothing to cure my stomach ache. The conversation is great—so great that I forget about taking it easy on my tummy, and I end up devouring a curry puff, a plate of garlic eggplant and a heaping portion of noodles that I definitely should not have devoured. Stepping out on stage, I feel strangely hot and cold at the same time. My stomach is churning and I am wondering whether I will make it through the show without vomiting on my friend T.’s head.
With the stage spinning around me, I imagine that I am running a long distance triathlon consisting of guitar playing, violin-ing, and dancing. I put all the energy I have towards the race. Recalling my childhood swim meets at the town pool, I can almost hear the sound of the white-suited official’s imaginary gun fire at the first note of each song, and then comes me shooting out after it like I’m that bullet spinning into the air.
Midway through the set, I accidentally unplug my pedals by kicking one of the power cords out of the wall, and I don’t realize that I’ve done it, but suddenly, there it is: I’m not making any sound any more. My brain lets out a gigantic, “Uh oh,” and I feel like I’ve just choked, swallowed water, and now I’m sinking slowly down to the bottom of the pool. As I am trying to find out what is wrong, all the nausea I have forgotten comes back, and I don’t think I can keep on playing.
Just when you thought this band couldn't get any cooler...