Today's challenge: Try to transmit the firing, multi-tasking, downright spastic thoughts careening about my skull into some semblance of explanation that could COME CLOSE to illustrating how fucking excited I am.
Remember when Mrs. Human Head won me $100 Killing Phil Gordon at Roshambo? Kinda like that.
Remember when Eruzione went top shelf against the Rooskies? Kinda like that.
Remember when I bubbled for the Main Event seat? Yeah, the exact opposite of that.
In roughly 22 hours, I'll be landing in Glasgow, where I will immediately commence drinking for 9 straight days (just kidding, Mom! not really, everybody else!). I tend to get horrible jet-lag going east (not so much going west), but if I'm able to keep my eyes open and my body upright after touching down, I'll be treating Div to a pint or twelve for his above-and-beyond kindness and assistance in planning this little adventure.
I'm an efficient packer, another of my hidden talents. I rarely forget anything. And I didn't this time, either. I did have to get up a half-hour after going to bed to get one more item into my carry-on, however. Just my passport. Nothing big.
I also had to make that last, late dash to Target to get a few things. The haul? Two travel bottles of Aloe Vera, moleskin (more on that in a sec) and condoms. Sheepskin, not latex, as I've been informed that Irish women (I have no notes on the Scottish lassies) prefer sheep. Or something like that. What? Well, of course, but better to be over-prepared than under-prepared.
Yesterday, I was having a bit of trouble walking. I have no idea how it happened, but the pinkie toe of my right foot has become irritated and it was really bothering me, so much so that it afffected the way I walk. Now, Dizzy Dean taught us a lesson many years ago about toes (he fractured his big toe--"Fractured?! Hell, that thing's broken!"--and altered his pitching motion to compensate, thus injuring his arm and prematurely ending his careeer) and damn if I didn't have a slight groin strain this morning. We'll pause in our narrative while BG calls me a "pussy."
I do walk kinda funny normally. My left foot always points straight forward, but my right veers out at about a 30-degree angle. I also land on the outside of that right foot, as demonstrated by the weird patterns of wear on my shoes. But it's never given me a toe problem before. And I haven't bought any new shoes lately. So its origin is a mystery, but a little moleskin on the toe this morning has made it quite tolerable, which is good since I'll be doing a lot of walking.
I'm going to be completely unplugged this trip. Debated back and forth whether to bring the laptop and ultimately decided against it. Trip reports will have to wait until my return, but believe you me I am packing lots of pads and pens. I return late (local time) on the 11th, so note that on your calendars as I know you'll all be dying to hear how I got stabbed in a Glasgow strip joint.
I board in 8 hours. If you're reading this, do me a favor and train your positive thoughts toward my airplane seating assignment. I'm not even going to ask for a hot, bisexual, single twenty-something with rabid fantaises of joining the Mile High Club as my immediate neighbor. Just let them smell good, be courteous with the arm rest, no over-active bladders, no talking about inane things, no allegiance to Allah, not under the age of 6 (and this goes ESPECIALLY for the seat behind me), not having a huge face mole with hair growing out of it (personal issue that skeeves me out) and please, please, please, be well under 400 pounds.
That's not too much to ask, is it? Pray for me. All of you. I'll be back with more fun and debauchery soon.