|Preparing for Airport Security|
Over a year ago, in a gesture of optimism (and probably procrastination), I added a feature to my Google homepage. I added a little square that showed me a different picture from Edinburgh throughout the day. Castles, girls dancing, big views. Just the act of doing that was supposed to help me GET to those places. That's all kooked up, right? Bananas, yea? I also added one below it of New York City (that was from instant-cameras around the city, so those are more like shots of people crossing the street).
I believe, as usual, that I have overpacked. Right now, it ALL seems necessary. Must get scale and see if bag is over 50 pounds.
This morning, as there is nothing left but packing toiletries, making extra-love to the cat, and finishing this list before I set off on a month-long trip to perform my show at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe, I have to give those little scrolling shots a shout out. I should be in Scotland by lunch tomorrow. I plan to pop an Ambien somewhere in the air between Chicago and London. Three weeks ago I was in New York with my play. While clicking through that homepage earlier this week on the way to my gmail, I got a new email -- an invitation to go back to New York for three performances in October at an arts festival. Was it the scrolling shots?
fix hem on dress
download songs for show on iphone
I bought a bra at Belks yesterday. The saleslady exclaimed, "Oh! This one fits like a glove!" I need a new bra, not a new glove, but SOLD. I have developed the uncanny ability to work my trip into almost ANY conversation ("Yes, beans and rice, no peppers, yes sour cream, I'm going to Scotland, yes guac"), so as our transaction ended with how I needed to remember my Bra & Panty Club Card next time and bring my receipt and she would catch me up she asked if she could go with me to Scotland. Like most people I talk to, she says she has ALWAYS wanted to go to Scotland. What makes me so lucky? What really good piece of advice do I have to make this happen?
Update Google homepage.
I've called the bank to say I'm finally going somewhere interesting, so don't card block me when I try to buy haggis.
I need to text my sister one more time while it's easy.
do Tracy Anderson dvd
I was hoping to work out one more time. I keep picturing Europeans seeing my flabby arms and saying, "Look, they don't even try."
Straighten the basement
Screw it. Right before a trip, there's always a certain amount of straightening I do. A friend says she does this, too, so that she comes back to a neat house. I do it in case I die. I don't want my sister and mother-in-law and best friends to have a hard time finding things (like surfaces).
On Thursday night, my friend, Kate, threw a Bon Voyage party for me. During the evening, there were two "reverse striptease" performances by my friends that I will not soon forget. When the whole crowd is chanting, "Put it on, Put it on", you know you're in a dirty place. My friends came and they overpaid me for tshirts and helped me switch gears into full-on Dirty Barbie machine. At this point, it's hard to express the level of gratitude I feel without ruining any street cred I have left, so I'll just say I'm a very lucky lady and I know it.