15 February 2002
My bags are packed
I'm ready to go....
Well, they're sorta packed. I still have my big traveling purse (decorated with
kangaroos, the bag that was invaluable in England last year) to fill. I've decided against
taking a purse-purse. I'll just take my wallet, which is big enough to qualify as a purse,
which will leave me more room in the kangaroo bag. (Yikes--I forgot to get money from
...OK. I've been to the ATM, and to the store. I've been so clever,
figuring I'd just pack my own food--Weight Watcher bars and apples and get tomato juice on
the planes. But I had forgotten to go buy apples, so I just did that too.
Now, where was I...?
Oh yes. Packing. If for some reason they won't let my carry on on, I'm up a creek.
Ain't no way I'm checking baggage through and hoping it will meet me!
In the middle of packing (you'd think I was going away for a month the way I've
been carrying on about this weekend trip), I tried to get some work done at the
office today, but I went in to do checkbook stuff which requires concentration and the
nurse practitioner and her assistant were there talking and laughing and I couldn't hear
myself think, much less concentrate on balancing the checkbook, so I left and decided I'd
go back later tonight, but I didn't. I'll have to go in very early Monday and get it done
before patients start arriving.
Instead I decided to try doing transcription so the psychiatrist's stuff is all done
before I leave, leaving only Dr. G's transcription, which I can probably whip out after I
get home Sunday night.
I took an hour off to wash walls. We're going to paint the walls in the stairwell and
the deal was Walt would wash the upper part and I'd wash the lower part to prepare for
actual painting. Only I haven't had time to get my part done, so I wanted to do at least
part of it today. I scrubbed about 1/3 of it, working up a real sweat (more exercise) and
was surprised that I really didn't notice much difference. The light in the stairs is
really dim, so I was hoping that it was just the combination of my bad eyesight and the
When Walt came home, he told me he'd already done that section of wall. Wasted effort!
But we have the cleanest section of wall in town.
I got a quick dinner thrown together in time to get downtown for my movie class. (Do
you think I'm overcommitted?)
Tonight we saw Gilda, with Rita Hayworth and Glen Ford (and I stayed awake this
time--must be that 7 hours of sleep I got last night). The plot can be summarized very
easily: Ex-lovers Gilda and Johnny meet and throw insults at each other. Gilda tosses her
hair a lot. Gilda slaps Johnny. Johnny slaps Gilda. They reconcile and live happily ever
after. Mixed in among this are foreign bad guys, phallic symbols, smuggling, gambling,
bribery and a bunch of other fun stuff.
In the end, all the foreign guys are dead or in jail and the good Americans ride off
into the sunset. Someone during the discussion asked what their life would be like after
they returned to the states and set up houskeeping as a suburban couple.
Can you see Rita Hayworth as a June Cleaver-type? Washing dishes? Ironing? I don't