Please hold while I tend to my empty soul

I can hear your collective groan and the utterance of something along the lines of "oh Dana and her overly-dramatic philosophical titles."

Quiet down, haters. I mean this one in the most literal way possible. What I an trying to say, in the least disgusting way possible, is that I emptied my soul into a toilet on Virgin America flight 780 (twice), and spent the rest of the day on the couch, mostly unable to move, feverishly sleeping on and off.

I have a lot to write about my trip (music, some music-related metaphors, and some self-realizations that occurred during the trip), but I'm going to hold off until I regenerate my soul (with water, Gatorade, Propel, etc.). Here's a photo as a teaser