Singer-songwriter Anya Marina is out on tour with the Virgins and Lissy Trullie, and sending Spinner her dispatches from the road. In the sixth installment, Marina falls off the coffee wagon and gets some special kudos from some special friends. Follow along on her excellent adventures.

Saturday, May 16-Monday, May 18, 2009 -- 'Do You Know the Way to San Jose?'
Cities traveled: Vancouver, BC to Bellingham, WA to Portland, OR to Sacramento, CA to San Francisco Bay Area, CA

The last couple of days have been tiring, and now I'm off to Portland, OR. That city feels like a second home to me, in a way, since I spent so much time there over the last few years, doing residencies, touring, recording and making my first music video. While in town, I see Britt Daniel from Spoon, who loans me an amp and lets me film the inner sanctum of his studio where we recorded 'High on the Ceiling' and 'Drop Dead Blues.' I also reunite with my good friend Sarah, who edited and worked on the video for 'Move You,' and instruct her to take me to the best coffeehouse in town since I plan to hop off the coffee wagon while in PDX. (If you're going to have coffee after a 6 month abstinence, the best place to do it is in Portland. These people don't mess around.)

I get sufficiently wired out of my mind, and that night's show at Wonder Ballroom is one of the best of the tour. Coffee can't take all the credit, though. The crowd is energetic, young and vocal -- the best kind -- and I get some pre-show love from my friend Courtney Taylor-Taylor of the Dandy Warhols, and his lovely wife, Lockett.



Afterwards we all geek out about how the show sounded and I am genuinely touched when Britt and Courtney, both tough critics, give me kudos on the show. More carousing ensues with friends old and new, and I fall into bed far too late and far too dehydrated.

The next day includes a 9-hour drive to Sacramento, record highs of 98 degrees, a show for 7 -- yes, seven -- people, an encore (read: one drunk guy yelling, "One more song!") and a broken down rental car.

After the show, as I drive toward the Bay Area (there's a show in San Francisco in a couple of days), I am overcome with the most bizarre feeling: I can't tell if it's a general, free-floating ennui -- something that happens a lot on tour -- or something else. There are so many ups and downs -- such little sleep, odd schedules, endless drives -- that this sort of thing is something I'm getting familiar with.

I can't quite put my finger on the source of it, but I know it's nothing a little R&R with the folks can't cure. I steer the car toward my parents' house in the Santa Cruz mountains, knowing I'm only two hours from my old bedroom and nothing but the chirping of crickets to lull me to sleep.

(Oh, I forgot. I also totally stopped for tiramisu and a chocolate chip cookie -- both of which I highly recommend for "free-floating ennui." Aka, PMS.)

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