I just booked my tickets for my October trip out to D.C.

This is going to be a most excellent trip. As I just said to Andy: "Sunburns, exhaustion, blistered feet, getting lost, airports, airplanes, renting cars…I do this why?"

Because I love travel. That's the only possible explanation for it. I've gone on and on in the past about my fascination with travel and seeing new places, but it never ceases to amaze me just how much fun I get out of it. Yeah, I get tired and grumpy and hate airline food like everyone else, but I usually try to treat each trip as an adventure. Adventures mean that you're prepared for just about anything.I'm refusing to start plotting out what I'm going to do while I'm out on the eastern seaboard. I know that I'll be gorging on seafood, and that I'll be doing the museum-and-art-and-shopping thing. Other than that, I don't know. And Andy will kick my ass if I start planning this entire vacation out two months in advance.

Today's been a low-level sort of busy day. Jeff's starting his accounting class today, and won't be home until about 8:30. So I'll be the sole person entertaining the kitties—I'm sure that I can expect much purring and wanting-to-be-cuddled. I'm contemplating going by the mall on the way home and buying a new pair of jeans—my old, baggy, comfortable pair are rapidly developing scary-sized holes in places that shouldn't have holes.

Was pondering something else today that's kinda sad—I realized that one of the reasons it's been so quiet this week is because Dan and Brad—the two people I chat with the most during the day—are both gone this week. Dan is in Seattle, and Brad—hell, Brad's somewhere in Canada, but I can't remember where. Brad's showing up a week from tomorrow for the party.

Speaking of, I need to get a list together of all the things that need doing before everyone shows up. Such as food to buy, things to do, things to clean and/or take care of. Still can't believe I'm having 14 people in my house next weekend. Will be VERY interesting.