I love sharing stories of my struggles, but the last thing I want is to make people feel sorry for me. Maybe I crossed the line with my last diary entry? Must've been my mood, or just my attachment to the "Sorry, Charlie" title. How unfair, to misrepresent the last year that way, when there was so much to enjoy.

20 THINGS THAT MADE ME SMILE BROADLY* IN 2002 (*without wistfulness, irony or self-reproachment)

Taking the train to Inverness with Lindsay Hutton and Stewart Cruikshank. Laughing, talking about music (these two men know way more about rock than is healthy, but it never spoils their enjoyment of it), eating pasties, Doritos and caramel logs while the gorgeous Scottish countryside rolls by.

Listening to "London Calling" with my daughter and having her regard me with actual respect when I describe witnessing The Clash's first New York show.

Playing a Sunday afternoon show at the Golden Lion pub in Camden, seeing friends from my NY and London lives intermingling with a smiling bunch of strangers.

Friends' kids! (wonderful, and a lot less trouble than having more of my own): Ramsay, son of Rick Plant and Sherry Rich; Honey, daughter of Gina Birch and Mike Holdsworth; Maisy, daughter of Gwil Owen and Brydget Carrillo.

Finding the perfect shoes with Avy in Glasgow's high street.

Finding the perfect shoes with Ruthie in a San Francisco vintage shop.

Playing at Schuba's in Chicago.

Playing at Iota in Arlington.

Kevin and Lou jumping up on stage and dancing with me at the Makeout Room in San Francisco (I was playing solo).

Drinking bourbon with Richard Shindell in Seattle, 2 AM Monday morning.

Drinking bourbon with Duane Jarvis in Seattle, 2 AM Monday morning.

Drinking bourbon with Todd Snider in Alaska, 11 PM Monday night and the sun just went down.

Dancing til 3 AM in a Dublin nightclub.

Hearing Laura Cantrell play my song at the Ryman Auditorium when she opened for Elvis Costello. Elvis himself, and the (almost) Attractions. The party afterwards at Tootsie's.

Walking around Radnor Lake in Nashville, 8 AM, any morning I can.

Watching Los Lobos play five songs at an outdoor show in Nashville until they have to be pulled off stage and out of a summer deluge. Running barefoot with the crowd down Broadway, soaked and laughing.

Surfing in the Pacific with Sleepy John.

Visiting KPIG and hearing someone say "Lay down, Amy!" I remind myself I'm in Santa Cruz and look for a spot on the floor, then realize they're talking to the program director's dog.

Playing to an absolutely attentive crowd in Hull. And my hotel room even has a shower.

Drinking coffee on a weekday morning on Avenue A, watching people rush off to work and reminding myself I never had time for this experience when I actually LIVED in the city.

As I'm writing these, I realize I could go on for several more pages. Damn, I'm lucky. But I won't dwell on it. HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Amy