Just went on Ali's run this afternoon, and this time made it back sans call to beck or asking for directions 15 times.
I suppose this was a horrendous risk to take - with Beck and Gringoat out of town, I had serious flashes of ending up stranded somewhere in Central Mass, crying at the lack of street signs. But don't worry, I took precautions - I looked at Google Maps right before I left to make sure I knew which road to turn on AND I hooked up "The Lady" (read: GPS device) to my forehead so I would know when to turn right. That was a life saver. As they say, fool me once, shame on me, fool me twice, Baba O'Reilly.
D-Hall this morning was thoroughly stupid, but it's over... I finished cleaning the apartment yesterday, so all that's left to do this PM is truck over and put the seventeen bags of garbage out for pickup tomorrow. Yikes. That and I've gotta go pick up BenAli from el aeropuerto. Then it's one more day of the Nut, pack up the car and leave the last six years in the rearview. Ho hum.
I am waiting on writing up the festivities of the past week (read: it's not happening) until I get a chance to use pictorial evidence - my computer is packed up, and I don't want to toss a bunch of stuff on the Sprecher computer. In exciting news, I got through the entire weekend and managed to snap NO PICS of Emily. Actually, that is a lie; I have a picture of her back and the back of her noggin that was accidentally captured as Ali walked down the graduatin' aisle. I am, like, the worst paparazzi ever.
Alright, Heidi is giving me a look normally reserved for "Cystic pressure" type indications, so I'm going to cut this short. There are pics of her on their way, too, I swear.
T-minus five...
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