Bon Voyage
A business trip takes me to London
7 March 1999: Bon
Voyage
So with 24 hours to go
until my flight to London I am still unpacked and the flat is still a mess.
Somehow, a day to go before any vacation, I wind up cleaning like mad, and
packing way too much. And I am up all night doing
it.
This time was a little different,
though. I decided to be civilized and not leave from work. So instead of being
up all night, I got up at a normal time the next day and packed leisurely while
watching soap operas on ABC. Queen for a day, that's me. (Heck, we all know I am
a queen every day).
It all went very
well. At 1 pm I went to the laundromat. Tony is the cute little son of Jane, the
owner. I say little because he's no taller than 5-foot-2. He's the only one who
treats me with any respect there. Now that they've installed a TV for their own
entertainment, I get treated worse than ever. Nine years of no respect. But they
are on my block and the machines work well. Plus, why go further for no respect
when I can get it right nearby.
Convenient.
At 3 pm I get a call from
Duncan, who's in charge of LGNY whilst Paul is in Thailand and Burt. We go over
my book review of Allan Stein and my punishing review of Cruel Intentions. We
are on the phone for more than an hour. I am a good writer but everyone knows
that she who rights needs outside editing. I am grateful to Paul and Duncan for
their patience, considering this is the first time I am writing for print in
many years, outside of the limited stuff I do for
work.
Still on schedule, U comes by at 5
to get a debriefing for the cat sitting she will do whilst I am gone. A visit
from U is like a visit from Grandma. The cats get away with murder and they get
more delicious wet food in a week than I give them all month. U used to live in
my apartment before she married B. She likes my vacations because she gets two
cats, a vacation from B, and she gets cable. As part of our pact, I always pick
up a bag of cat food for her at Petland Discounts (because "they care"). She
pays for it, but it's heavy and she's 80 years
old.
Tony also drops in when I am gone --
for the extra love and to clean up any messes Nero will create during that time.
When I was gone for a fortnight, Tony cleaned out the litter box, or as U calls
it, "the shithaus." But U called Tony and berated him for not doing it quickly
enough (he was fine, actually). So I keep them separate and use my belle soeur
as the go-between if there is an
emergency.
At 7 Laura and Tony arrive
simultaneously and we go to Ah Chihuahua for supper. They serve big Mexican
dinners named after Mexican cities. I demolished Mexico City while Tony gingerly
worked his way through Mazatlan. I forget what Laura had. They ask me if I am
all packed. I say no. They berate me for doing laundry instead. I remind them
that you have to actually have clean clothes to pack
them.
At 10 pm I start my packing while
watching The
Practice.
At
11 pm Nero knocks over a shelf of CDs, sending them and dust everywhere. It
takes me an hour to fully undo the damage. Nero seems chastened and rebuked,
sitting on his blankie for the next nine hours without moving. The dust settles
in my bronchii and I am hacking it out for the next fortnight.
Posted: Sun - March 7, 1999 at 01:56 AM