Things I've done before I go

1. I have changed the insoles of my shoes. Not sure how this prepares for my trip, but it needed done.
2. I have withdrawn $250 in cash from the bank.
3. I have borrowed my mother's largest suitcase and packed it with several weeks' worth of clothing.
4. I have borrowed a green leather bag for my toiletries.
5. I have purchased some single-use cameras for trip photography
6. I have called around to some florists to see about getting some lilacs and blarg, I can't get ANY. Grr. Maybe fake lilacs? But that's hardly the same. I suppose I'll have to make do with another flower. Fooey.
7. I have gotten a trip-tick from Triple A which shows my route.

I am leaving TOMORROW.

A possible political career?

I was just talking to my dad on the phone and he says no one is running for mayor of our hometown this term. He's not sure what they'll do, but jokingly suggested that I run. He can't run because he's running for village council.

It would make good resume fodder, yes? "At age 21 I was elected mayor of a small town in the Midwest..."

Much better now

I went to see the doctor and he diagnosed allergies and gave me some medicine. I feel loads better now, though still not 100%.

Two days till Fitchburg!

I am not feeling very well at all right now -- in fact, I haven't felt well in the past several days. My throat hurts so bad it's difficult to talk sometimes -- I keep taking Ibuprofen -- and my nose runs a bit and I feel as if I'm on the verge of a fever but not quite. I'm really really hoping it's the weather and I'm not sick on the verge of my trip to Fitchburg. I may go visit an urgent care clinic today.

Last weekend I accidentally spilled spaghetti on the kitchen carpet at the Boyfriend's house and went into paroxyms of panic due to his finicky roommates who, if you'll recall, kicked me out in February for an accidental mess. I started frantically scrubbing with every cleaner I could find, and the stain faded, but did not go away. I called W. and fessed up, thinking to face the problem head-on. He was surprisingly cool about it and advised me about some cleaners, and said he'd take a look at the stain when he got home.

W. and A. (his new wife) saw the stain this evening and A. asked what happened. W. said, "Someone just had a little accident, spilled some spaghetti."

"Did SHE do it?" Meaning me.

"Well, yes, sweetie, but it was just a little accident, I'm going to try to get it out."

"You can still see the stain."

"It's not so bad, honey."

"But you can still see the stain." Then she went stomping upstairs and didn't come down for the rest of the night not even for dinner. Very immature if you ask me, to go into a sulk like that over an accidental stain in the rug.

That same day, for no especial reason, I used up the last of my Tussinex. About eight teaspoons. The recommended daily dose is one teaspoon. I could barely walk afterwards and kept fading in and out. It was quite pleasant actually. A. C. came over and we talked for a long time about stuff.

I'm finishing up my plans for my Fitchburg trip. I will be visiting the Leominster library Wednesday evening. And spending Monday through Thursday days at the collection. I've written down the numbers for the cemetery where he's buried, and also for some florists. I want him right under my feet. I want to put lilacs on his grave.

I can't wait.

Happy Independence Day, everyone

Not that I plan to celebrate. I don't like holidays.

Dyed my hair yesterday. The store was sold out of my usual shade so I had to get a lighter color. I don't like it. I prefer a bright, brassy, flaming red that catches fire in the sun. This color is more like strawberry blonde. Maybe I'll do it over.

R. I. P. dog

Laika had to get put down late last night. She had cancer, but they thought she might recover. Well, her back legs quit working entirely and Mom and Dad rushed her to the emergency clinic (the same one I use for the rats), and the vets there found another tumor in her chest. As she couldn't walk anymore and had no chance of recovery, Mom and Dad elected to euthanize her.

She was only about five or six years old (not sure how old, she was a stray), and she was the best dog we ever had. She was a beautiful Husky with bright ice-blue eyes and a wonderful friendly personality -- "hello, my name is Laika and I love you." And so well behaved too. I wish I could have been there to say goodbye to her, but I was at work. Mom and Dad called me at work to tell me what happened and I got so upset I had to go in the back room and cry for a bit.

I will really miss her but I am glad she is not suffering anymore.

In other news, I finally got my car fixed. It kept stalling all the time. It was supposed to take "a couple of hours" to fix but ended up taking six hours due to a lack of parts. In the meantime I was stuck in the town. I went to a Goodwill and bought a pair of khakis (they are going to make you wear khakis at work now and I don't own any). I went to a diner and ordered and ate a meal before realized they don't taking cards and I didn't have any cash on me. I gave them my purse to hold hostage and went out to find an ATM; luckily there was one a few blocks away. To prevent this from occurring again, I withdrew two $20 bills from the ATM, gave one to the diner and slid the other under the insole of my shoe. Then I went to a lovely bookstore and told the lady there all about Robert Cormier and my upcoming trip etc. She was kind enough to let me sleep on her floor until my car was fixed.

Things to do before I go (part II)

1. Call florists in the area to find out about the lilacs
2. Write down the numbers for the libraries and the cemetery management
3. Get at least two cameras
4. Learn how to use the laptop Dad gave me
5. Get a trip-tick from Mom
6. Get my hair dyed
7. Pack

GO, Mika Brzezinski!

I just read this article about a TV news anchor who tore up and tried to burn her script on air because the first story was about Paris Hilton. That anchor should be given a medal! I'm tired of hearing about that wicked woman. Paris has a bad case of spoiled bratitis.

Counting the days

Only like two point five weeks till I leave for Fitchburg! I can't wait! *bounces up and down excitedly*

Getting the car fixed on Monday. Getting my hair dyed on Tuesday. I must ask Mom for a trip-tick. And I need to call some people before I go.

Why Johnny can't read

I've come to the unhappy conclusion that A.C. cannot read. I don't mean he is illiterate, I mean he can't get anything out of what he reads. Unless it's right there on the surface, in black and white, he can't see it at all. He does not grasp what's behind similes or metaphors for example, or even the many merits and uses thereof. He's read two Robertical novels thus far and always believes the exact opposite of what Robert meant to say.

I think it's sad that a grown man -- he is twenty-seven -- should be thus. He reads plenty of books, too, so I'm not sure what his problem is. Perhaps the quality of his books is lacking. Perhaps it's his education -- his degree is in mathematics and his liberal arts training is limited at best. But one of my friends has a mathematics degree and she's a brilliant reader.

His problem is so entrenched I wonder if I should even bother to help him.