nervousness

Since I seem to have activated my away-from-home batsignal, here are the SMS messages I’ve sent to Twitter in the past 24 hours. My tweets are normally friends-only, but when I’m away from home they’re usually more interesting than the usual ‘OMG where’s my tea?’ claptrap, so I’ve written a script to post them publicly in batches once daily while I’m gone.

We are nearly prepared. Yes, PHE 2006 is just about to land on us, and land on us with this sickening, alcoholic *thump*.The RSVP list currently stands somewhere around 40. There will be thirteen people staying in our house alone. I have a fridge full of food, and I’m not done yet.

I have a sweater to finish knitting for Saturday—if I’m diligent, I will finish tonight.

Between dim sum tomorrow afternoon and my flight home on Thursday, I have no plans. No real plans, anyway, the kind with dates and times and directions. I have a list - a list of places I think I might enjoy seeing, and a guidebook that seems to have solid recommendations so far.

I know I’d like to have a drink with Matthew’s brother Daniel, since we haven’t seen each other since we were teenagers, and I’m curious to see how much we think we’ve changed.

I know that I’d like to see Crutcher and Theresa, but I don’t know if our schedules will coincide.

Hark! The mothership comes.

After laughing for ages at how Shauny refers to her mother as The Mothership, I feel the need to steal her reference for the next few days. For lo, the Mothership is preparing to wing her way from the Tulliverse to Huntsvegas, and the Huntsvegas natives may never be the same.

Translation: yep, we’re so busted. Mom’s coming to visit. Time to clean the cupboards and hide the naughties.

There are very specific, yet unwritten, Rules Of Conduct that must be followed in order to guarantee a successful parental visit. For those of you who missed the peer-to-peer lecture, here’s a quick checklist to ensure that your visit will conclude with a minimum of cranial explosions or disownments: