around midnight, i’m sitting on the couch with my suitcase next to me (closed to keep the damned cat out) charging my camera battery, killing time…
i put everything in my tote in ziploc baggies. seriously,once you get started with that regulation shit you can’t stop. it’s like, well, if you need to see my toothpaste and concealer then i will use that excuse to be able to easily locate my phone charger.
quite a group. trying not to be distracted by stupid shit like layovers and don’t-forget lists and not getting laid (you know who you are) and alliteration. i need sleep, and to not drink on the plane. i need to arrive without that dolly parton lipstick look.
my shoes are so pretty i want to take pictures of them.
i might not be cool enough to go, but i’m definitely dorky enough. and in addition to being cool these are a bunch of lovable raging dorks. making the world worthwhile in crisp and unfamiliar dress-up clothes, scribbling in secret and confessing on the internet, throwing paper in the wind and pulling ourselves from our comfort zones – with a distinct velcro sound – to meet intimate strangers and giggle uncomfortably until the words start to flow. this will be a night of overlapping and fervent conversations, and i would bet ten bucks (anyone taking?) at least one child is conceived.
anyone wants to talk about the X-files or why alex trebek IS in fact not only a suitable but IDEAL life partner, i’m your girl. wanna buy me a jack and coke? also your girl.
holy shit. i’m excited. if i had a better word i would use it. maybe if it were capitalized:
HOLY SHIT I’M EXCITED!!!!