I confess. I was a bad, bad girl while I was on my trip. I didn't take any pictures. But—for those of you who just can't live without having this sort of thing, I did save strange and random bits of things to put together into a collage.

2001 Illinois trip collage
by domesticat.
[see full-sized version on flickr]

Here's what you'll find in the picture:

1. The all-important packing list, taken from my visor. Can't forget the cell phone, or beer for the host.
2. My alarm clock, with the 'alarm' pointer still signifying my four a.m. wakeup time.
3. Chicago Transit Authority bus pass.
4. Pass to the Dana-Thomas house, which I toured in the rain.
5. Movie ticket from Innocence. I cried.
6. 'Cashier was USCAN'? Aaron and I both boggled over that one. Quite funny, we thought.

I'll say this: I don't hate the holidays. I hate the blues that come with them, every year, like clockwork. I've struggled to write this week, and I have a feeling that it's not going to get much better between now and December 26th.

This week—and the past two days in particular—have been difficult, through a convergence of events; some expected, some not. I knew that this December would be difficult for me, and there were times this year that I said to myself, "I have to enjoy what I have now, because I know what's coming." With Jessica's leaving Huntsville this morning, the last of that 'summertime' ended. Heather is now a resident out in D.C., and Jess is now back in Mobile (temporarily, until she begins grad school next fall).

The theatre is divided into two sides, and it was obvious which side was showing The Movie, for the line was meandering through most of the vestibule. The local crew has theorized for ages about what it would take to get all of the 20something Huntsvegas crowd into the same place. Bars, hockey, and clubbing never seem to make it happen. But last night, it seems, the entire even-slightly-geekish bit of the population was at the movie theatre.

So, you wanted to know what, exactly, happened on that mysterious weekend in Illinois? This is the overwhelming majority of a letter that I sent to a couple of people while I was there, regaling them with the weirdness that always comes with a domesticat roadtrip.

Laugh, and be thankful you were you, and not me, during the course of this particular weekend:

Dear Edmund and Tenzing—

I know that you can't read, so I am trusting that you will use your superkitty powers to absorb the contents of this letter through your amazing (and easily-demonstrated) mindlink powers with Amy. Since the two of you always seem to know each other's thoughts, I'm going to assume that now would be no exception and just send this letter to her.

I'm currently exploring the musical intricacies and oddities of Nick Cave, thanks to a net friend.