Sunday, April 09, 2006


March 30 – April 7

The weeks have been a blur. Life lived one event at a time with no room to think about tomorrow. It was quite a change from my writer’s life of pajamas till noon and books as my companions.

We had three guests, one birthday, two parties, late-night girl talk, seafood and pasta, dress shopping and the philosophy of wedding dress shopping, and a tired visit to the Garden of Eden for macaroni and cheese.

After my guests were safely aboard planes and trains, I set off for Kansas and a whirlwind of florists, caterers, and a priest. Pancakes were involved. I was supposed to fly back to Boston late Tuesday, then fly out early to DC.

But the flight was delayed. . . so I had them reroute me directly to DC. I headed for a round of Capital Hill lobbying in my torn jeans. Luckily Ann Taylor at Union Station had just the navy suit and faux pearls (a double strand) that I never knew I always wanted. The shoes were cute, but evil. (Note: wedding shoes –which haven’t yet been purchased—may be less cute.)

Luckily my brother pointed out a Starbucks that morning and praised-be they gave me an embarrassingly huge venti latte by mistake. That tanker of milk and caffeine lasted me until our calorie break at 4:30—an apple thrown into my bag at the last minute way back in the Wichita airport.

We met with every single Indiana congress person and senator. Well, we met with their very young aides. We gave a spiel about the Writing Project. We were intelligent and dynamic and our (my) feet hurt like the dickens. That night wine and cheese at the postal museum reception and then pizza and wine with my brother at the Matchbox.

The next day it was sessions and digital story telling and blogs and the achievement gap. I took the train to Baltimore. I saw the house and the wedding album. I ate a pound of chips and salsa before the enchiladas. Then onboard the flight back to Boston, another delay. My seatmate was something like a soul mate, but we never even exchanged names. Then metro home. Then hugs and kisses. Then bed. Then no dreams, bliss.

1 comment:

TLH said...

May I enlist as the leader of your entourage? I'd like to live vicariously through your adventures, please. Hahahahaha.
Hope you are taking time to relax and reflect (knowing you, you are) before the "big day"--sorry for the cliche!

Take care!