23 June 2003
I find that the disadvantage to having a flight that leaves later in the day is that it's longer until I get there.
I know, I know, this much seems obvious. But it's hard to keep my brain from thinking, "Today today today!" And usually I leave early in the day. For the other two legs of the trip, I'm leaving early in the day. When we go to find a house for sure, I'm pretty sure we'll leave early in the day. And when we move out of this place forever? Oh yeah. Definitely very early in the day.
It's good to have a bit more time with Mark, though, and time to run a quick errand, and time to work on "Rest Stop," which I worked on a good bit yesterday but didn't finish. I think it'll go quickly, though; I think without a lot of other problems, I should finish it before it's time to go. If I don't, I'll just copy the file to my e-mail and finish it in Minneapolis. See? Everything works out, if you let it.
Other than that, my to do list consists of throwing the last of the toiletries in the suitcase when I'm done using them this morning. I was thinking I'd consolidate a few notes on the collab and send them to Karina, but I think I can do that from the road if I get enough to be quasi-coherent there. I mean, if I have bursts of coherency now, that'd be fine, too, but I'm not going to worry too much about it.
I finished Plagues and Peoples. Oh, that was good stuff. Lots of happy malaria and cholera and syphilis and smallpox and other contagious sorts of things. I've just barely started rereading Julian May's Intervention, which has been whispering, "read meeeeeee!" from the bookshelf since the beginning of the Stanley Cup playoffs. I can't judge this book objectively, so far. It's one of the books that grabbed my brain when I was almost 13 and will probably retain its place there for years. I can't say whether the beginning would be confusing or off-putting to me if I read it for the first time as an adult. Now it's all familiar and kind of cozy. I have no idea whether anyone else I know now would like this book. But it makes me happy to read it again.
Oh, and Timprov had "A Few Good Men" on when Mark and I got back from our date, albeit the network-censored version of it. I should probably watch the beginning at some point. It was interesting, probably even good, and we got into a discussion of differences in military and civilian life, and where those differences are exaggerated and why.
For some reason, I find I react much better to movie or TV stories where the viewer and the detective already know who committed the crime, and the question is one of proof. This is what I love about "Monk": the question is never whether Monk will figure out whodoneit. The question is whether he'll be able to legally prove it.
Now I'm going to go put "The Rhythm of the Saints" on the CD player so that I can hear "Proof."
I'm a little keyed up this morning, but it's not too bad. The late flight means that I know I have awhile to wait, and I don't have to worry about anybody waking up in time, etc. I don't have to scurry around here. And tomorrow morning, I will wake up in Minneapolis, and it will be good. I'll have e-mail connectivity in both Minneapolis and Omaha, although I probably won't have much time to read journals, so if you want me to know something, or if you want to find something out from me, e-mail is your best bet.
All the usual excitement of Minneapolis, plus making contact with housing peoples. Eeeee! And then, for the first time in years, I get to go to Omaha at my favorite time of year to be there. July in Nebraska! Hot! Humid! Dusty! Windy! Wooo! I'm absolutely serious about this: I love Omaha in July. It's not just that we'll get to take Mark to his first Shakespeare-on-the-Green, or that we'll have a Fourth of July picnic at my cousin Kari's, or that I'll finally get to wear really truly summery clothes. It's that it will smell right, like grass and clay-dust and Lysol and my mom's face lotion and Corn Flakes. (Yes, Corn Flakes: there's a Kellogg's plant not too far from my folks' house.) At Christmas, it smells like Omaha at Christmas, and so with the spring and the fall smells, but there's absolutely no way to duplicate a lungful of July in Nebraska.
I wish we had the going-home CD mixed already, because I'd listen to it this morning for sure. But I'll manage for the time being. I'll manage quite well, I'm sure.
I'm going to work on "Rest Stop." And I'm going to bounce quietly. Hoooooome....
And the main page.
Or the last entry.
Or the next one.
Or even send me email.