Thursday, May. 01, 2003 - 6:48 p.m.

wearing: beige sweater and black linen skirt that I'm auditioning as travel-wear
in car CD player: Duran Duran, Rio
hey, Grampa! what's for dinner? chicken chipotle salad from Einstein Bros.

Mayday! Mayday!

This is my last entry before my trip. According to Eric, with whom I had a horrible button-pushing conversation last week, it's going to be my last entry ever, because I'm not going to come back alive. I asked him specifically what he thought he was going to happen and he didn't have an answer for that--he was like, "well, what with the war, and terrorism, and SARS, it's all bound to come together." Thanks, buddy! So I was up until the wee hours being frazzled, and was late to my big pre-vacation meeting with Dave and he was cross, and I haven't really gotten as much done today as I needed to but I should be able to finish it all tomorrow by 5, when Lois will take me to the airport and The Fun Will Begin In Earnest.

Anyway, no more time to write right now, but if you're out there in Diaryland-land, and you want a postcard from my trip, and you're not Kate or Jessica or Mimi whose addresses are already in my notebook, e-mail me at bowhead at diaryland dot com and let me know where to send one, okay? I told Janice I'd send her cranky spoiled old Maltese, Li'l Bit, a postcard from Malta because it's his ancestral homeland, and I don't think she believes that I'm actually going to do it.

Off to finish packing! K. said he'd bring me "dinner, or something," at 8, which I predict turns out to be like half a revolting Marie Callender's fruit pie or something, but it's the thought that counts. Oh, and I have to note that 10 years ago today, my best female friend Melissa got married at Dolly Sods Wilderness Area on top of some mountains in West Virginia, and I was her official Laura Ashley-clad bridesmaid (she let me wear a dress I already had left over from some Cotillion) except that my official title, given my role in the processional reading of some of the loonier parts from the Song of Solomon (i.e. the Biblical one, not Toni Morrison's), was actually "Daughter of Jerusalem." Mr. Beardslee, this old retired religion professor from Hollins, performed the ceremony wearing a pith helmet and Birkenstocks along with his Episcopal clergyman's getup. It was the coolest wedding ever. And a year ago tomorrow I moved into my house! I could actually go on for another half hour now, all of a sudden, about the horrible associations of May 2 from my adolescence (two words: prom season) that have now been eradicated because That's The Day I Moved Into My Very Own House, and now it's going to be The Day I Embark On My Big Odyssey (or, if you ask Eric, The Day I Set Off to Be Killed) but time's a-wastin'.

previous - next

5.2.03--all packed up and nowhere to go yet - Friday, May. 02, 2003
5.1.03--the home stretch! - Thursday, May. 01, 2003
4.21.03--novel concepts - Monday, Apr. 21, 2003
4.19.03--this is not my beautiful wife - Saturday, Apr. 19, 2003
4.18.03--like chickens before their heads are cut off - Friday, Apr. 18, 2003

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