We're home from the Berkshires. It was a wonderful weekend. Mass MOCA had some great exhibits, and The Mount, Edith Wharton's estate, was awesome. I have always been a fan of her literary work, but I didn't know much about her life. She received a medal for all the work she did both for soldiers and civilians during WWI in Paris.

~ma to Typo Boy and to Maria's uncle.

So those prints I was talking about yesterday from my grandma? I. Can't. Find them. And I'm kind of freaking out. I thought they were in the attic, but I've gotten all my stuff down, and emptied the top of my closet, and I'm kind of having a freakout. I hope they turn up.

amyth was a rock star today helping me pick up boxes and labeling packages to mail. I have a weird block against labeling and mailing packages - weird, I know. But tomorrow, to the post office! Woot!

Then I went to visit friends who just moved to a farm, and the dogs ran all over, and we waded in the river, and ate on their wraparound porch, and yay.

OMG packing. YIKES.

When are you gonna be coming down here?

smonster, I keep meaning to tell you how excited I am for you!! I know there's a huge amount to do before a big move like this, but you've got awesome helpers and you'll get it all done one way or another, and then you'll be IN NEW ORLEANS! Woo!

I think I've told this story here, but possibly the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me was when I was moving out of my apt in Massachusetts and moving down to Nashville, and I'd been living with this sort of weird grad student dude who cooked constantly and never cleaned anything, and all the dishes & kitchen things were mine, and I just could not deal with the thought of washing all of his nasty dirty dishes and then packing them. So my friend S came to visit for a night and WASHED ALL THE DISHES and packed them all up. She seriously wouldn't even let me in the kitchen. Man, I will never forget that.

When are you gonna be coming down here?

Nora, looks like I'll arrive 6/11? Stuff will probably get here a day or two later. And Zenkitty might still be coming with!

Thanks, Kate. Hope to see you and meet the husband before too long.

Xanax kicking in. Bed time.

So not sober. One of my favorite places is closeing, but being taken over by some else that is excited, that is my neighborhood

Nora, looks like I'll arrive 6/11?

Yay, smonster! I'm so excited for you.

So, the Lord works in mysterious ways.

I show up passive aggressively late, and my brother starts yelling at me. I stare at him for a second and literally (not really ;) ) lose my shit and start screaming at him in the parking lot about how he has no idea what I'm going through with my mother's shit. He stares at me with his mouth open as I storm off. I take a lap, come back. We start to get in the cars when my mother (who has not even bothered to look for the parking pass) realizes that she has forgotten her ID. So, I turn on the radio for my niece while she's upstairs fucking around. She finally gets back, I turn the key to go and . . . click, click, click DEAD BATTERY!!! Now, when I had the car in for work a few weeks ago, the dealership told me I needed a new battery. I wasn't going to get that shit at the dealership, but then I totally forgot about it, so it's kinda my fault.

So, after a whole lot of fucking around (including an attempt to jump the car, which is unsuccessful because the battery is so damned dead), they head off to Arlington while I wait for the tow truck. First, they send the wrong kind of tow truck (perhaps you recall this happening last time I needed a tow truck, despite the fact that I was vociferous and vehement about needed a flatbed), then it takes forever. Had to get a new battery installed (which took way longer than it should have, since the guy just forgot about the three of us in the waiting room. After over an hour, I went out to ask, and my car was ready, as were the three peoples' cars that I was waiting with). Finally to the house, and for dinner, which took forever, and finally home about an hour ago. I've been decompressing with bourbon.

The Lord seems to have a mean streak.

I had a fight with my brother too, today. But, seriously? Sitting in my kitchen bitching you have no time to clean your house? Makes no sense. Neither does stalking off and invoking the rudest name for women's genitalia when I say that. Then, my mom gets him back and I'm like "Seriously? Like we should beg him to eat our food, drop deuces in our toilets daily, without fail, and tell us part 9000 of his ongoing saga "Selling Insurance In A Recession Sucks"(Dude...we know. For three years now. And our father is the antichrist. Duh.) I was a lot kinder three years ago, honest.