Voice Mail Archives

This is me not writing about my potentially new, potentially absolutely brilliant new job.

Today I woke up all ansty and rebellious and could think of nothing better to do than to go riding around all day in my car. Just around. For hours, all day.

I am filled with dread at the thought of attending this year's Thanksgiving dinner at my mother's house. I am fearful that the fact that I have been able to dodge this annual bullet by forcing my family to go to a restaurant for Thanksgiving dinner will double back on me and this year I will pay, I will pay tenfold, I will pay in spades, I will pay pay pay.

I was working an event today with a bunch of awesome kids and their grownups, and there was a lull at one point which found the kids all chortling easily with each other in a corner while we older folk discussed recent movies. Since all the other grownzedup were of the parental variety, most of them had spent the last couple of days going to premieres of the latest Harry Potter.

I've been summoned to the western part of the state to help my best friend in the process of recovering from having her house burn down with all her possessions. I hear they have a new apartment that they can move into tomorrow, so I'll be sleeping on my air mattress in it with them starting tomorrow night. This is all very last minute -- I just got the call an hour ago, asking if I could come help, and of course I said yeah and called my boss and told her I'd be taking the week off.

I am increasingly bothered by the Red Hat Society. Here on Cape Cod, where the average age is pleistocene at least, there are a lot of these lovely ladies sallying forth in similar garb, festive and often wonderfully rowdy gangs of older women who are standing up for their rights to be non-conformist, wacky old broads and having a ball doing it. The only beef I have is that they are voicing their right to be wacky nonconformists... by all wearing the same color hats and clothes.

Yah so my best friend's house burned down to the ground the other day.

Well, the weather was just as bad as I feared it would be on our journey to Vermont, but we soldiered on and reached our destination without incident. It was fully snowing by the time we reached Montpelier, and traffic ground entirely to a halt on Route 100 heading into Stowe because of all the fallen trees and downed wires from the heavy snowfall. But I was serenely knitting away, thankful at least that we were no longer whizzing away at warp speed through quarter-mile visibility, so I was probably the least pissed off person in the stopped line of traffic during the hour it took to reach the village from the highway.

We're going off on vacation tomorrow to Stowe, Vermont, and I am, as usual, a bundle of nerves. I have this rare condition that causes me to totally freak out and become insanely stressed when travelling, a situation that doesn't really support the idea I have of myself as a person who loves to travel.

I must be going on vacation soon, because everything is suddenly falling apart and requiring that I throw massive piles of my savings at it. A few days ago it was my eye, which got infected, and fortunately cost less than I feared it would to fix, but today, TODAY it is my car.