Start simple. A cherry limeade and tater tots will do, eaten in a silver car that quickly heads further south along a freeway very familiar to the both of you.

Dress it up. Put on your red shoes, your best pearls, your genie pants and go, go, go until you can't walk, can't think, can't stay awake. Watch them say "I do." Say goodbye. Let your friends take you away afterwards, where you sleep in the car, lulled by the freeway, for nearly two hours.

The peanut butter and German honey sandwich you are given will be the last meal you eat in someone's house for some number of days. You suspect this, and your drive to savor this last piece of house and home wars with your immediate need for food.

I'm in Atlanta, recovering from helping coordinate Jim and Tracey's (AKA 4x4 and
Spitty's) wedding. Then a flight to Detroit for the Super Secret Mission. Here's what I've been up to:

I'm in Atlanta, helping coordinate Jim and Tracey's (AKA 4x4 and Spitty's)
wedding. Here's what I've been up to:

I'm in Atlanta, helping coordinate Jim and Tracey's (AKA 4x4 and Spitty's)
wedding. Here's what I've been up to:

• 11:17 PM ET: Tales from the Furlough #1: not dead, no video: http://ping.fm/puctY
• 11:19 PM ET: @Psyche Aside from DeKalb County Farmers Market, which is huge and raucous and awesome? (and I don't even live in Georgia!)
• 7:29 AM ET: To a sleepy me this morning: "This is a Southern house. We believe in the power of the biscuit."
• 10:12 AM ET: Hey, did you know that I have a wedding coordinator voice? It's totally awesome. It sounds ... competent.
• 9:18 PM ET: Go on, drama, I double-dog-dare you. maddog, banana, and I will bring our 'A' game tomorrow.
• 10:26 PM ET: Tales from the Furlough #1: crashy: http://ping.fm/y5IyW

Today's been a dramatic day. Wedding things are happening, and I did not participate as much as I would have liked thanks to an icky blood-sugar crash that knocked me out of commission for a while. I don't know why, but even after things level out, I'm always incredibly tired. I just didn't bounce back afterwards. Lots of sleep tonight for me; there are dragons to slay tomorrow.

Other things happened today. There were problems. At this time I'm waiting to hear everybody's sides of the story before making up my mind. It is not a subject I should be explicit about today. It should wait. Tomorrow is another day, and all problems will be answered in the order they were received.

Furlough, night one. A lazy night drive, a stop off at Sonic for tots and limeade, leads us to north Georgia.

Most of the wedding party is out making a late-night run to Waffle House. I need sleep more than I need caffeine, so I'm staying here at the house instead, winding down slowly and typing myself to sleep. Jeff has the video camera and I trust he'll capture anything that's awesome.

Red Shift, the red-and-black quilt, has been given away. Jeff has video of the giving. There is hilarity and much profanity. I will post it as soon as I can get my hands on it. I survived the giving, and Jim and Tracey did indeed keep the secret from each other, and oh, I will not live this stunt down any time soon.

It was absolutely, emphatically, utterly worth it.

Oh, my dear little librarian. You pile up enough tomorrows, and you'll find you are left with nothing but a lot of empty yesterdays. I don't know about you, but I'd like to make today worth remembering.
- from The Music Man (thanks, Katie!)

Or ...

The cheese dances in the park after the seance.
(Thanks, Rachel. We'll come back to this one in a few months.)

Listmaking has begun in earnest. Panic started two days ago. There is much to do and a rapidly-lessening amount of time to do it in. A rough idea of my itinerary:

For my friends in Atlanta, you have a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity coming up this weekend.

I'll be in Atlanta this weekend. With my mother.

Want to join us for a memorable dinner in which you get to sit at the table and threaten me by offering to tell her all the juicy, dirty stories we both know you know about me?

Saturday night, yo.

Loss came through tweets and emails, a drip of information at a time. First a note from a tech staffer saying that someone had died, with a pointer to more information, including the name.

I saw it at work, and I wondered who it would be, whose name had to take on a different status. Death is so final it seems that we should all be able to feel it when it happens, to know that something is missing that wasn't missing ten minutes ago. But it's not like that. We have to be told, and for me it was via email.

Through rain and hellish traffic, the 4-hour drive to Brian and Suzan's took just over 5.5 hours. We were grateful to have arrived there safe and sound, regardless of the hour. I love Thanksgivings with them, because it's a Thanksgiving of introversion; you don't have to sneak off to take time for yourself or make phone calls or just be alone. It's understood and encouraged, and I took advantage of it.