Tonight I leave for NYC and I've managed to make my weekend's needs fit into a carry on that complies with the TSA's 3-1-1 rules. Fortunately Marni & Lauren have me covered for random items (umbrella, shampoo). And it helps that I have a gift for packing light. That happens when you spend an entire summer in Africa and are allowed only one duffel bag for 3 months' worth of supplies. I have mostly black clothes and the sweetest black shoes to wear in my attempt to blend in with all the writers and publishers and agents. In an attempt to look mod, I have argyle-patterned tights to wear on Sunday. A far cry from my blue jeans and t-shirts and green Wellingtons.
Team Testosterone is taking my trip in stride since I Pinky Promised that I'd be back in time to retrieve them from school Monday. Mr. D has grand visions of taking them shopping for Christmas gift Saturday (I know! I'm skeptical too. I wouldn't do it for any amount of money and he's the same man who requires a babysitter while Mr. T has basketball Saturday morning.)
In other news, Mr. T gets to start taking pills tonight. Expensive pills. We'll see how that goes. And Mr. B is excited about getting to be "ON STAGE!" in his preschool Christmas program. Last year he told a joke in front of the assembled crowd of parents and grandparents. "What do elves learn in school?" (wait for it....) "The elf-abet!" He killed at the Adventure Child Care Annual Christmas Program.
Now I log off with gratitude for those making this trip possible--flight attendants, taxi drivers, my writing partners, the friends watching Mr. B Monday morning and, of course, the quintessential Mr. D. I'm thankful to have the means to see NYC in all its Christmas finery and after hearing the news on NPR this morning, I'm thankful I have the freedom to move freely through this country without fearing for my safety.