Road Trip

I'm going to Baltimore. For a party. On Friday night. Than I'm coming home.

Well. If the lord is willin' and the creek don't rise. I refuse to plan on trips anymore since every time I do something atrocious happens and I don't get to go. Therefore I'm just going along my daily life, knowing that I'm not going while in the back of my mind I'm actually planning to go thus fooling the trip wrecking demons! Ha! Oh no, I probably shouldn't have written this. . .

Actually I'm ambivalent about the damn trip. It's such a long drive to be there only for a couple days; I can't afford it; it's always weird to be there; I can't afford it; I haven't lost 20 pounds which I had intended to do before I ever saw any of my exes again and did I mention that I can't afford it? My ex husband the psychopath is going to be there and also my ex nice boyfriend. And about a bazillion other people - this is a big big do, a retirement/moving party being thrown by C, one of my closest friends in the whole world, who is moving to the wilds of farthest Colorado, where they probably have cowboys and Indians and covered wagons. I've seen Deadwood; I know about this West stuff. Everyone swears a lot. She had better be careful or they'll feed her to the pigs.

My exhusband is supposed to send me $500 so I can go (is that deeply weird or what?) because I am bringing M up to him so he can go to West Virginia for a 4th of July party and then they will drive back down here so M can go to the doctor and get his cast off and then they will go back to WV. Crazy. The whole thing is crazy but, I guess, what the hell. So Friday I drive, then I party, then I recover, than I drive back. Big fun in a 98 Saturn.