weight: 129
bodyfat: 21
kcal: :)
vasa: :)
gym: after interval training and abs yesterday, rest.
write: :)
read: bibi, the magazine
last type of cheese consumed: none
i 'mell like: biosilk hair conditioner, nivea
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i am beyond wired.
i'm not hyper or jittery, just very awake. it is 3:20 am, and i have to leave the house in almost exactly two hours. i should be at the airport before 6 for a 7:10 am flight. this should not be a problem today. i feel awful for my mother, who will be getting four hours of shitty sleep tonight, b/c she's my blue van. don't leave comments suggesting that i should've availed myself of the REAL blue van-- if you are brown, you know that your parents would spew invective at such waste and insult. i know she wants to hug me good-bye.
lists were made and checked, a queen size sheet was doubled and then thrown on the family room floor.
small sheets of my hello kitty notepad arranged carefully in rows: wed night, thurs day, thurs night etc.
outfits folded and placed on each, blocked out so that i could make sure i had shoes for everything :)
i've got this shit down to a science, and i wouldn't leave anything to chance, not on a trip THIS important.
is there any point in laying down now?
who knows.
i'm staring at my lone pair of seven jeans, a shirt and really cute knickers that have "hottie" embroidered above my left thigh. "accident" underwear, my friend calls it...the kind of frill you want to be caught in if they're cutting your clothes off at a hospital or in an ambulance. there is a tinge of the macabre to my thoughts, if i'm plotting what pretty knickers i should wear in case of disaster; i'm not afraid of flying but this time i almost am...
gold stiletto sandals. two slender straps that will cross my polished feet. they will be an interesting footwear choice with the jeans et al, but i'm a pragmatist right now...the other sandals all have buckles, and will annoy the shit out of me and everyone behind me in line when i'm asked to remove them for security. it's all laid out, all plotted, all ready to go.
am i ready to go?
i don't know. i guess. i feel curiously empty, but that probably has to do with massive disassociative proclivities right about now. my nerves have yipped like a high-strung chihuahua for most of the evening, it's like the lap-rat finally lost its voice, either that or my nerves overloaded and blew up. part of it has to do with how LONG tomorrow/this day is about to be; i leave, only to turn up at an airport 100 miles away. then i sit for over three hours and THEN i get on my real flight from CA to the right coast. i don't mind being sleepless now, it will help me pass out at noon. i really don't want to be awake for 5.5 horrid hours. gah.
by the time i retrieve my trusty checked samsonite (which is making its tenth trip across the country today), it will be late. my sari is coming with me on the plane b/c my mom reminded me that i've had atrocious luck these last two years w/lost luggage. the back-up outfit may get sacrificed, but not THIS priceless bit of worm spooge, oh no. it is new, and it is dear and it is gorge. so. one sundress, one sari, one metrosexual stuffed monkey from BABW in sf to abuse as a pillow. a copy of anna karenina. all my medicines. a pashmina b/c OCD me cannot bear to imagine where airplane blankies have been (*shudder*). my moleskine, my jewelry...these are the things a good, paranoid girl packs in her carry-on bag. all that, plus extra knickers.
am i on a knicker kick? sadly, boo-boo...yes. half-a dozen new pairs in as many days, each cuter than the last. i remember when my sister and i were younger and giggled more. "look how cute my knickers are!" we'd squeal as we flashed. the only person who gets such treatment these days is eileen perfume. and she always indulgently says, "yes. they are adorable." this is when we aren't inspecting the areas of our inner thighs which are visible underneath our mini-skirts in front of the wall-sized mirror. both of us eat ridiculously well and work out extensively. both of us mutter darkly about how we should've dressed like whores when we were uber-conservative connecticut-prisses in high school. "my body at 16 was WASTED on me." seriously.
before a few of you dig out the lotion and kleenex or apple pies or whatever your perversion is, you should know that the aforementioned antics take up about 5% of our time. we spend the rest talking about men, makeup and mercedes. sorry. cease and desist with your hands-on reactions, then.
anyway. i digress. i'm starting to feel tired (perhaps diary has conditioned me to) and i might just lie down for an hour.
i'll be back on tuesday night...we'll see how lovely the wi-fi is at my various locations. if it's adequate, i'll try and blog through. if it's not, then click the damned ads already. another $75 and google will cut me a fucking check. yay. be good and leave comments, i'll still be receiving them somehow. :) i'll miss you. bye...
Music from the Masses