Gah. I might just be lapsing into JournalCon-induced insanity.
I had a big luggage trauma a few days ago. My luggage was all too large. I kept thinking about how I’d be carting around the suitcase equivalent of a mobile home and how I’d have to slap a Wide Load sticker on the back of it and how Chauffi would pick me up from the airport and it would be too big to even fit in his Saab and we’d hitch it to the car somehow and head out onto the highway and then it would explode, strewing my very cute panties all over the California landscape. Because if you didn’t already think that girls are crazy, there’s your proof, right there.
I called my Mom-In-Rock, June, and pouted and whined. She offered her lovely medium sized suitcase. I was happy. It was the holy grail of luggage. It would give me ample room for three days of clothes, 50 plus tubs of PlayDoh, and my down pillow and also leave room for San Francisco shopping booty. Yes. Life is grand!
Then I packed.
I need a bigger suitcase.
There’s no way I can fit my pillow in right now along with all that PlayDoh. Or maybe I don’t need three pairs of jeans, a pair of dress pants, a pair of cargo shorts, a pair of capris, a dress, two different pairs of jammies, a sweater, a sweatshirt, a hoodie sweatshirt, my rock star jacket, and something like fourteen different shirts for 72 hours, unless there will be a fashion montage scheduled somewhere in that time.
I think it’s the strangeness of it all. I don’t normally have such an issue with packing. When I went to London, I could have fit everything into one suitcase and I was there for an entire summer. But this time, I’m going across the country to hang out with people I’ve never met. Alone. Gah. It’s anxiety-inducing and apparently clothing is my security blanket.
Oh, but one cool thing. I apparently purchased the world’s best brassiere last week. I tried it on last night while packing and could only stand in front of the mirror and stare, slack jawed. I had somehow been transformed and now had the world’s most perfect breasts. The cleavage was incredible. I think even I wanted me. If anyone has any doubts of my self-proclaimed title Curvy Round Sex Goddess, I can invite them to take a gander at these super breast twins of badness and they will know the truth. If there were a Weetabix action figure, these would be her breasts.
A coworker pointed out that I name every piece of clothing I own. Not entirely true. Just the clothes I like. Therefore I’m naming this bra the Dayam!Bra.
I ran around in a delirium for most of last night, packing, eating a very adult dinner of a bowl of cereal eaten out of a Gladware container because I didn’t want to wash a real bowl, and doing laundry, until I changed into my new long pajamas and then collapsed into bed to rewatch my TiVo’d Buffy episode. I got halfway through it before I paused it to go throw some Shout Wipes into my bag. Then I got back into bed, only to pause it again to put an asthma inhaler and my leather-bound journal in my PC bag. Then I took a look at the bed and decided that I had entirely too much to do, so I figured that I might as well just sit there and make Weetaswag.
I threw my Birkenstocks on and trudged out to my car and retrieved several dozen tubs of PlayDoh. Then, as I was walking back into the house, arms completely overburdened, I felt my pajama bottoms start to slip. My new pajamas do not have elastic in the pants but are instead tied with a black satin ribbon. Which I apparently had only half-heartedly tied during my most recent bathroom stop. I tried to walk bent over but that made the bottoms fall even faster. Then as I lifted my leg to go up the porch steps, I felt the cold night air assault my bottom. I was giving my neighborhood the Curvy Round version of the Coppertone Ad. Luckily, it was rather late at night and it was raining so the aging hippy dad across the street didn’t get a free show of Nude Butt Ascending Staircase. Gah.
Esteban is in Atlanta today. He’ll be back tonight at midnight and then I’m leaving at 5 a.m. tomorrow. He joked that perhaps he should just sleep on a bench for a couple of hours at the airport and then I could just hand off my car keys when I arrived a few hours later. Joel will be picking him up so that I don’t miss any sleep tonight as I anticipate being awake for something like 24 hours on Friday. Ward will be driving me to the airport tomorrow like the wonderful Dad he is.
I know I said that I’d be posting the much anticipated Banner Ad contestants today, but I just haven’t had time to do all the formatting and linking and stuff, so it’s going to wait. I’ll probably do it in the airport or on the plane and post from JournalCon. Maybe. It’s very possible that I won’t post until Tuesday when I get back. If so, have a super weekend and make sure to tie those pajama bottoms tight!
