Aie! We leave in two days. Preparations have been along the lines of insane, tempered with occasional bouts frenzy. It has gone something like this:

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Couple of weeks ago, I had a lovely birthday. Got this:

and I really, really love it. We took her out to a lovely state park two weekends in a row to get the tires muddy. On our second weekend, which involved a tent as well, we went on a fairly aggressive (for a newbie like me) trail, complete with big ruts and roots. And soon, I steered into a big root to avoid a big tree and ended up with a big ouch when Pinky Lee’s top tube whacked my leg with a Tonya Harding-like efficiency.

Ok, so my tibia doesn’t exactly look like this. X-rays showed no fracture but plenty of swelling of the soft tissues - and even without the fracture I’m in the sort of pain that a fracture might cause. No, it hurts more. I have some good narcotics that whack me out and ice packs which I apply several times a day. I can’t make it worse; I can only manage the pain until it gets better. Which I hope is really soon.

Because we’re going to Japan next Saturday.

I want to marry Jon Stewart. If I weren’t married. And he wasn’t married. And we knew each other. And we both liked walks in the rain.

I just want to say:

…scariest album cover ever.

I gave away all of my skinny clothes the other day.

Ok. I kept one skirt, a thick polyester orange and pink diamond-patterned vintage beauty that I found in a Goodwill shop more than ten years ago and couldn’t let go. But the rest…gone. All of the sexy tops and stylish skirts and all of the size 14 and 16 dresses that I cross trained and puked my way into are gone. I gave it all to a women’s shelter, and thanked the women who took the five big bags and one box profusely for turning them into hope for someone else.
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