We’re down to our last day at home!

Yesterday was ka-razy, but ended on a fun note with having the Js for a final overnighter before we (and they, on Friday) leave for vacation. The Thriller, in his inimitable, efficient fashion, has the car almost completely packed up and ready to jet:

Trunk

Back seat

We had a nice evening with the boys, chatting over dinner, playing Wii, walking down to Uncle Lars and Aunt Helen’s house, and making our own frozen yogurt sundaes:

Back home, then baths and bedtime. By 9 p.m., Grammie had about had it.

Today is busy with a last-minute trip to the store, some laundry, and hopefully some rehearsal time for the Dallas gig this Saturday. Tomorrow at 5:30 a.m., we hit the road for the first leg of the Odyssey, en route to Mississippi to visit Daddy and Kathy.

I remember thinking at Christmastime, June will absolutely never get here. And now here it is: the penultimate day. Am I too worn out to be psyched?

Nah.

OK, I’m a bit irritated. Nettled. Miffed. Slightly peeved. Annoyed. J’ever have a morning when you haven’t even been up for an hour, and the suckage level is already rising at breakneck speed?

*drumming fingers on desk*

Right. I need to get out of this funk and on to my spectacular day. Lots of craziness planned at the Fink house, as the days until the Odyssey wind down to three and a wake-up. But first, the heaving up of random peeves:

Today’s Irritants

1. My inability, for the life of me, to remember how to do a simple maneuver in Paint Shop Pro X2 that I’ve done with ease for years. And do you THINK the web has any advice after searching for 30 minutes?
2. Evangelists whose sermons are mostly a long string of trite platitudes, one right after the other.
3. When people, after describing a quick and easy task, exclaim,“Walla!” [sic]
4. The fact that, thanks to new ink technology, Silly Putty no longer “takes up” newspaper comics.
5. That I’m dealing with choir tour this morning. Before I leave, I have to upload documents for parents, and I need my rep to answer a question. Autoresponse after emailing him: I’m out of the office until June 20.
6. Caring who is gay or straight. I. Simply. Do. Not. And neither should anyone else.
7. When people, afer reading a recipe, post the comment, “YUMMO!” (Seriously, I think violent, truly felonious thoughts. Just…c’mere. *bANg*)
8. That people not only know they’re using the wrong form of you’re/your, but admit they don’t care. I do not want to live on this planet anymore.

*straightening hair and skirt*

Well, there now. I feel all better. And look at me, all givin’ up coffee and stuff.

OK not really. 

Send Washington my phone records. You won’t find anything of interest. Why? Because, as many of you know, I hate talking on the phone. I loathe it. I always have.

Now why is that? I’m a textbook extrovert; I draw much of my energy from others. I’m a performer who gets a thrill (and probably the feeling of acceptance on account of some miles-deep, insecure emotional need for approval) out of all things theater. You’d think I’d be a magpie on the phone…but I’m not.

I’d say fully 85 percent of my phone usage comes from texting. The next ten percent is web/email, which leaves a measly five percent for actual talking. I like it that way.

Now of course, there are exceptions. I don’t hate talking on the phone all the time. Just, you know…95 percent of the time. I can think of two reasons, off the top of my pointy head:

1. The “overlap” issue. Invariably, you get two people on the phone who are trying to be polite, but end up talking over each other, and who then stop talking at the very same moment so the other person can talk. AWKWARD. Then you say, “Oh, sorry, go ahead” — at the same time. I hate that. Face-to-face communication is so much easier, and failing that — text. No interruptions or awkward lags in the conversation.
2. Conversation control. Now this doesn’t happen with my close fiends and family, but rather with people I either don’t know or just know marginally. I like to be in control of my time, but I don’t want to be rude and say, “Welp, sorry, gotta go — bye!” or “You called at sort of a bad time.”

Now I know there are people (because I know them personally) who much prefer talking on the phone, and that’s fine. I’m not particularly thrilled with those who insist that talking on the phone is somehow superior in all ways to communicating in any other manner, but hey, whatever floats the boat. They can just knock themselves out.

But they’ll get my voicemail.

Cripes, how did I get so off-topic? My original point was that I have nothing to hide, so the NSA can do their worst. Heck, let ’em pay my Verizon bill while they’re snooping around at my texts about what time someone is leaving, or when do you want me to get the boys, or could you please pick up some milk on your way home, or how are you feeling today?

So many random thoughts for a rainy Thursday morning. And what have we here? It’s BoomR’s birthday today. Happy happy to you, amigo!

It’s the final countdowwwwwwwwn. That was a good song. Ah, memories of drum machine beats and mall hair…

A week from tomorrow, we begin what could be our final Odyssey, since the Thriller is now done with seminary (yay!) and we likely won’t be able to take such large chunks of time to break away from here on out. (We’ll actually save money for home improvement chores that have laid abandoned for the last four years as well, heh.)

Our weekend and Monday were spent in various stages of work and play. It’s very much like me to put off the initial packing ceremonies until the last 24 hours before leaving, but I need to be more disciplined this year. Since we’ll be in Mississippi, Texas and Oklahoma, followed by Montana, Idaho and Washington, we’ll need to dress for two different seasons — maybe three. I’m devoting an entire suitcase to our sweats, sweatshirts and jeans.

This is where I ask my fellow travelers how they make the best use of space. My main peeve is schlepping the entire universe into the hotel every night. How to consolidate? How to predict? It’s not a huge issue in the world scheme of things, but I do wonder how best to streamline. I’m not good at that at all. I struggle with compartmentalization, as many of you know.

But I have what — five or so days? — to procrastinate on that. Today is filled up with other stuff, not the least of which is trying to get a quick viz in with all three grandsons. Those become more and more important as Go Time approaches.

Non sequitur: After seeing the successes of RtB fiends Suzanne and RD with their bikes, and talking with Seamus about it, I am considering trying biking again. (Bicycles and I generally do not get along, for a couple of reasons.) What should I get? Whatever it is, it will have to be of the 24-inch variety. Little feet have to be able to touch the ground.

All right, that’s enough. It’s 6:18 a.m. — morning’s half gone. Have a good one today, fiends!

FO