Breathe, Amy.

Breathe, Amy, breathe.

Known: that I get nervous before trips.
Unknown: why I am so much more worried than usual about this one.

We head out in 72 hours. (O Canada…) Packing list: done. Clothes: not yet washed. Mind: not yet calmed. While it is normal for me to worry about takeoffs and landings a bit, it's been quite some time since I've experienced the sheer volume of worry and unease that's floating around my gut regarding this trip.

The time for leaving

The time for leaving approaches. My attempts to whittle down on the to-do list continue. Slowly upon slowly, the attempts are succeeding.


  • Pick up and photocopy passports
  • Drop off white comforter for dry-cleaning
  • Give Kat plant watering schedule
  • Make mortgage and truck payments befure we leave
  • Put out trash night before we leave
  • Cut my hair
  • Cut Jeff's hair
  • Power down computers
  • Clean up kitchen
  • Buy film. (Lots.)
  • Do final loads of laundry and dishes
  • Clean litterbox

Hard to believe—a week from tonight the journey begins. Pick up Jeff after work on Wednesday, and drive down to Birmingham with Heather. Stay the night—neatly enough, in the same hotel we stayed in the night before we flew up to Victoria last year. We'll get up very early for an insanely early set of cross-country flights.

Listmaker, listmaker

I am pathetic, I am funny, I am listmaker, hear me roar.

I make a lot of lists, although I occasionally like to smoke some crack and think that I'm not exactly ruled by my to-do list. My troubles of scribbling down multiple lists—and subsequently losing them—have been cured by my December procurement of a Handspring Visor—quite possibly one of the best purchases I've ever made.

Trips bring out the worst listmaker in me. Especially, in this case, when I will be travelling quite far from home, and will end up in a different climate than the one I'm beginning in.

For my birthday, my friends gave me this fabulous spiral-bound notebook that now contains everything from poetry snippets to plants I want in my flowerbeds to random sketches of my cats.

Cheers, jeers, and weddings

Earlier today, I joked with Jeff that I should post an entry of rants. The more I think about it, the more I like the idea.

Let's see.

  • First, to Knology, our cable provider. Due to shoddy service and a general run-around over the past few days, we're on the verge of 1) switching cable modem providers 2) demanding a refund for all the service we didn't get this month. Our service has been out for part of every day for the past week. My apologies to those of you who attempted to access domesticat on Friday afternoon. I was halfway through major changes on the site, and had uploaded files but not rebuilt them with greymatter—and then our connection conked out for about five hours.
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sotto voce side notes

Here's what's going on in my world.

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I wondered what was in my fridge.

Now, let's take a look into the deepest, darkest corner of the house.

What's in your refrigerator? On my quest, just now, with my trusty Handspring Visor in hand, I found:

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