FicWad

Alright, folks. Let's take a survey. Who, out of the next three people, is going to get fired from their job? Is it A: Caroline Jane Daling. Is it B: Elmo. Or is it C: Dirty.

Well, I'll tell you, because you all probably can't even begin to guess (hah). It's not Elmo. He's just too damn cute to fire. It's not Dirty. He's his own boss. Probably because he's the only one who can put up with himself, so that leaves one option, folks. ME. You're lovely narrator who has simply let time slip by without writing in her tour diary for two weeks. I probably won't get fired, I guess, but it sucks that I'm going to have to bullshit two weeks in my tour diary.

You're probably wondering what in the world could cause me to neglect my beloved tour diary. Well, truth is, I've been really busy, because I'm now merch manager, which means, I spend more time than ever with the band.

Andy is fucking cool. I finally got to hang out with him, and I really enjoy his company. We have a lot in common. He's vegan. I'm vegan. He's an environmentalist, as am I, so we've found loads to talk about. Nothing cool enough to put in here, so I'll bullshit it later when I actually have to.

Pete and I have a lunch tradition now. He's like a brother to me. Sure, the brother he is to me is obnoxious and wrong about everything, but nonetheless, he's like a brother.

Joe and I are at each others throats about video games. He always wins, and the few times I have, of course, have been by default. I can never win fair and square. So when I broke out the Lego Star Wars video game and handed him his ass on a platter, he decided to steal it, practice, and hand me mine. It's stupid. Someday, Joe, Someday.

Patrick, as you may have guessed, is a touchy subject. We spend about 8 hours a day just talking and goofing off. I'm not completely back on my feet with no problems, so we pilfered a rollie chair from a venue and now on our nightly walks he's the only one that does the walking. I roll. He pushes me. It's pretty sweet. The conversations have been getting deeper and deeper, and we're beginning to talk about stuff I never guessed we'd be talking about. It's uncomfortable sometimes, but sometimes, I'm not okay unless I tell him.

We've both begun to depend on those talks, and I'm starting to think maybe that's okay. I've never had a lot of fun depending on people but because of him, it's all I do these days. The past three weeks have seriously turned my world upside down. I've gone from workaholic to social butterfly with tons of friends in an amazingly short amount of time. The guys have taught me something very important: There is absolutely no reason to be alone.


"Guess what, Caroline." Like I even have to look up to know who was talking to me.

"I can't, Patrick, so you'll just have to tell me."

"You pretty much already know I wanted to, so I will. We're in New York." I sort of sighed to myself. I'm not ready to be home. I know it's not for good, and I know the tours not over, but sometimes, even the most urban people need to get away from the city.

"I think I'll just hang out on the bus."

"For the next week? We're stopping here for awhile for some rest. We're going to hang out like normal people who have nowhere to go."

"Okay. Are you telling me this trip is going to consist of zero concerts and is going to be press-free? Because if you are, I don't believe you." He laughed and sat down next to me.

"How's your ankle?" I sort of shrugged, and he proceeded to do something that really surprised me. He began to unwrap it.

"Patrick, come on. Don't distract me. I'm doing inventory. I don't have time for this. You guys sold a jillion shirts last night and I don't know how much money we made. Let me work." He wasn't listening. He continued to gently unwrap my ankle. When the nude-colored cloth was finally off, he held up my foot.

"It looks a lot better. I'm really sorry about this." That was the first time he'd brought up how it was his fault in an incredibly round-about way.

"Patrick. It's not like you pushed me. I don't care. I'm the clumsiest person ever. I fall all the time. Seriously, don't worry about it. It's been a couple of weeks. I haven't been mad at you once."

"For anything?" He looked hopeful.

"You know that's not going to be a yes." He thinks it's funny to wake me up at the crack of dawn and be obnoxiously cheery. I don't think it's all that humorous.

"I know. Are you hungry? We're going to get McDonald's." I scoffed.

"You know I'm not going to eat that."

"I'll get you some fruit, then."

"Where?"

"I don't know. It's a big city. They've got to have fruit somewhere." I laughed. I knew where we were, and happened to know that around the corner, there was an open air market. He, being Patrick, would never find it on his own.

"I'll go with you." He immediately produced a look of protest.

"No. You'll sit back down and do inventory. You don't need to walk that much." All of a sudden, my cheesy, romantic side kicked in. I almost threw up.

"I'd walk anywhere with two broken legs as long as you were with me." I mumbled it, as I turned around to pick up my jacket and my bag.

"What?"

"I said I'd walk anywhere with 2 broken legs for fruit." He smiled.

"No you didn't."

"Alright, then why'd you ask, fucktard?"

"Because....I don't actually know what you said. I just know you didn't say that. Syllabically, it doesn't work."

"Shut up. You're bothering me, and all I want is fruit."

"Then why don't you just stay here?"

"Because the fruit is worth it." He laughed and put his arm around my waist to assist me in the wonderful task walking had become. I pretended he was doing it because he wanted to. Not because he would feel bad if he didn't.


"Where are we going?" I loved having the upper hand. Knowing more than someone else was an absolute favorite of mine.

"There is an open air market around the corner. It won't take long."

"The only way it won't take long is if I carry you."

"Which you're not doing, so unless you want to piss me off, don't even try it."

"Hm. I kind of want to piss you off." He really thinks he's funny sometimes. Lately, I should mention, he's been the total opposite of the guy I met a few weeks ago. He's sort of warmed up to me, and now we play around like this all the time. It's probably my favorite part of the day.

"Here we are."

"This is really cool. I wish I could have grown up somewhere like this."

"You live in Chicago. What are you complaining about? Chicago is incredible. Seriously. I would trade Chicago for New York any day."

"That's because you're stupid."

"Your weapon sucks. Find a new one." He laughed and his hand accidentally hit mine. He looked away and thought of something to say really quick, or at least, I think (hope) he did.

"What do you want?"

"A pear. That's all. I'm not that hungry."

"You're weird. Pears are sick."

"You're sick." He just looked at me.

"Your weapon sucks. Find a new one." I laughed really hard, and he paid for my pear.

"I didn't say you could do that."

"You really think you saying I couldn't buy you a pear, would have kept me from buying you a pear?"

"That's a funny question." He laughed, and then stopped quickly, completely erasing the smile from his face.

"Grow up." I flipped him off, and he escorted me back onto the bus.

"I'm going to go get me some food. I'll be right back."

"Patrick. Eat with them. You don't have to eat with me."

"I want to eat with you." And with that, he left. And now, in the twenty minutes he's been gone, I've typed this, and he's walking onto the bus right now, asking me what I'm typing. And now he's trying to steal mycdnijkf-

This is Patrick. I don't know what this stuff is, but it's not inventory like Caroline said she was doing. I hope she doesn't delete this. I'm not going to read anything, but right now, she's about to go into cardiac arrest because she's positive I am. Signing off.




Dude thinks he's so funny. I'm not erasing that. It's just too....Patrick. I'll be with you guys later.