I am sane right now, feeling what I perceive to be normal emotions, reacting how normal people react to situations, sleeping normally nine and a half hours.

And on a side note I must add that nothing - not diet, not exercise, not peace and tranquility fuel our organism’s growth more than sleep. And what is growth, because I was going to say healing – nothing fuels our healing more than sleep – but then I realized I don’t need to worry about that anymore. I’m healed. Now.

And now I grow.

So yeah, nine and a half hours is normal for some people as people waking to alarm clocks may never know. It’s funny how fluid a tour bus’s top bunk feels at 5 am swaying across the highway with a slow motion fat fish tail. Sleeping on the tour bus feels like Makena beach on Sunday only not as much like paradise and with a lost less naked people.

In that way the tour bus is kinda like paradise – in the oceanic way, not naked...necessarily. It sure ups the quality of my touring life, I know (and makes me feel kinda cool with everyone gawking to see who’s stepping out wherever we pull in). Any time I can avoid airport security, baggage weight limits, and those Medievally contorted, made for no human’s back in-flight seats (c’mon guys, we are shooting across cumulous clouds right now dodging insects lightening bolts and super heroes, but we can’t design a seat that won’t aggravate childhood scoliosis or cause soft tissue damage in four hours?). Oh yes, the quality of my life is upped substantially the further away I stay from airports. Like yesterday traveling from Columbia SC to Raleigh NC... we all sang the shet out of Lionel Richie’s “My Endless Love” floating from speakers let’s just say none of us can fit into our suitcases, all while fat fish tailing 75 paradising Makena dreaming sleeping definitely not an airplane on the most normal of tour buses, as tour buses go, just going down the highway.

Normal tour buses have a kitchen and softly lit bathroom, right? Normal tour buses have home entertainment systems in the front lounge and back lounge and also individual gaming systems/televisions/dvd players in each of the twelve bunks, right?

Yup, twelve STOMPers on one bus. And one driver. He’s a darn good sport and kind kind fellow, Bob. Cause I know no one else wanted to drive us fools. Our company manager told us how impossible the position was to fill, as opposed to the crew bus. You know, it’s not like we beat on everything in sight to make obscene amounts of noise or anything. It’s not like we see how hard we can force something before it breaks and all. No, wait a second...that’s what we do for a living! In our spare time we really get wild.

Aw, skeet.

So yea, I’m gonna be 27 tomorrow - “eight times over, Miss October” - I like the way 27 looks. 27 has the perfect combination of strength and vulnerability. 27 cries and survives. 27 takes walks all over the country. 27 does forty pushups with ease. 27 loves herself like a verb – takes care of herself, cares about herself, is careful with herself. 27 listens to music every nite. 27 talks to her parents every day. 27 never wakes up to an alarm.

Twenty Six used every last ounce of energy to heal so that Twenty Seven could grow in her sleep.

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