It's 12:05 am. Do you know where your traveling companions are?

Not in bed. At least - not this traveling companion.




It's 12:05 am and I am staring at a huge heap of clothes and realizing I have nothing to wear in Europe. Nothing. Not a single item of my wardrobe is Europe appropriate. I'm not sure what I'll do about that but I'll likely still be doing it in a few more hours.

Cate is very worried about our sleeping ability when we arrive in London. Not me. I know that I am such a procrastinator and poor planner that I will spend 2 sleepless nights trying to do all the things she wisely finished by last Thursday. Today was a wretched disaster of a preparation day. I was thwarted in my attempts to exchange money and buy a voltage converter. Nothing came together. In the end, I went home, complained, and watched Top Chef with my sister while the Diva fell asleep on my lap. Tomorrow, I said. Tomorrow I will get all those good and wise things done. Somehow. It will all come together but not without 2 sleepless nights. So, while Cate paces the floor in an English hotel room, I will be happily dreaming of a younger Colin Firth as I sleep off endless nights of last-minute accomplishment.

As I ponder my wardrobe and the depth of my failure to plan, I'm prepping my iPod for the journey. I'm extremely nervous about the plane ride, though not because I fear a plunging, fiery, inferno of death - no, that scares me not at all - I just can't tell you the last time I sat still for 9 straight hours. It sounds like hell. I figure I'll only make it through if I exhaust myself thoroughly so that I doze fitfully and spend the other 8 hours flipping between lame stuff I probably never needed to watch but downloaded from iTunes. I've gone a bit nutters. I keep hearing the stock market melee in my head as I browse: Buy! Buy! BUY! Not the least bit certain what I'll do when the voices yell "Sell."

Because I am also uploading pictures and videos off my camera, I thought I'd share a few favorites.
Yep, here we are in all our glory. You can see me in newly reinstalled fat pads but getting a dozen roses. Not a great photo of me or the roses, I suppose, but it'll serve as proof even to myself that I may be fat, but I'm where it's at for 4 non-committal guys with money to spare for fattening me even more. The other 2 are some faves of the niece and nephew. I just think their whole personalities (and none of their faces, thus ensuring Internet safety) are perfectly evident in these photos.

Here's a film strip (just because I could). I would have preferred to upload an adorable vid of the 2 nieces dancing but I would need parental permission and an agent's contract before I exposed the girl's to premature stardom.

Oh - I forgot. I did accomplish one thing today. I texted all my boys and set up plans for when I return. (Hmm...can anyone say priorities?) I found myself in deep contemplation of the need for nicknames after they all eagerly texted back (blast it! I've ignored 2 for almost 2 weeks! What is with these guys?!) but the things that popped into my head were clever but not the traits upon which I want to focus my attention. So, I've hit upon the following names: Military Man, Senor Salesman, 4H Guy, and Previous FrontRunner. Not clever and the last is just sour grapes. I'm not quite over the cold-feet risk. Previous FrontRunner emailed me about how he plans to email every day while I'm gone regardless of whether I can answer and how he can't wait for me to get home....Hm. Not the best way to get out of the dog house and convince me to continue what just might be a stalling tactic to avoid obvious need for commitment to another relationship. Here's a hint to Previous FrontRunner: Think flowers - expensive ones. You done it before - now do it again. As long as I can keep the other guys, roses will win my acquiescence for the time being.

I really want to go to bed. I can't believe how long it takes to upload 12 videos to YouTube. I really should have started last week....just like Cate told me. That's why she's the trip planner and I'm the....hell, I don't know...why is she taking me along on her well-planned vacation?!

Oops. Now it's time to stop swearing and start packing.