the closest cut

Growing up, I was the one who packed a bag for vacation weeks in advance. (I'm looking at you Girl's Camp 1996 and '97.) Now, my life is unpredictable enough that despite my best efforts--and nerdy To Do lists--I'm sitting on my bed, working from home, on a conference call, surrounded by stacks of clothing not in a suitcase, and headed out of the country for ten days in less than two hours. And I need a shower. And have another hour conference call. BUT NO STRESS GUYS.

I went to Kansas last weekend to visit Alicia and it was one of my funnest weekend trips in years and years. How quickly five years melted away and I remembered why we consider ourselves sisterly. Sure, we've each got our own--but boy howdy do we get along well. We talked nonstop for three days and I refound some center before being thrown back into the storm of wild work projects. We shopped baby clothes (she's having a girl and I'm getting a nephew(!!?!) and talked baby names. The greatest lesson I learned this week is HOW GLAD I AM NOT TO BE NAMING ANOTHER HUMAN. Good luck ladies.

So I'm headed on a little trip tonight. Flying to Amsterdam and cruising to Barcelona. That means ports in Brugge, Belgium; Normandy, France, Vigo, Spain and a ferry to Isla Cies; Lisbon, Portugal; THE ROCK OF GIBRALTAR; and then into Barcelona. I told you I love a cruise. The biggest stresser is making contingency plans with my gal pal Laura to meet in the Amsterdam airport, or at the port, or in Brugge should one of us get displaced by flights. Hurricane Earl, I shake my fist at you!

So, I guess I might have a photo or two to share when I come back. If I ever get there in the first place.