I’ve been thinking a lot about travel lately. Yeah, I know — this from the girl who hasn’t yet managed to make it to Toronto to visit Kathy or Tammy. But in the last few weeks I’ve felt an urge to go somewhere farther away. But not too far away — within this continent is fine. Specifically I’m thinking of New York City, Los Angeles, San Francisco. I’ve even thought Dave and I should take a trip to Manhattan together, even though we’d each want to see very different things (me, a Liberty game at Madison Square Garden; him, Fashion Week).

So it’s no suprise that last night I dreamed he and I went to L.A. We walked to the MTV Networks buildings (why? because I had watched somebody’s video blog a few hours earlier, in which she gave a little tour of said buildings) and when we got there, Dave suddenly pulled out his camera and said he was there to work, not just to sight-see. I was furious. I hadn’t counted on waiting around. So I tried to go back to our rental house (as if) but I didn’t know where it was and ended up coming back to wait for him in a dark restaurant, where I was molested by some middle-aged guy.

This may have scuttled my travel plans. I’ll keep you posted.

Earlier tonight I was on my way to the public library with my mom (who had never heard the word “colonic” until today, can you believe it?).

Me: “You want me to buy you a tacky heart-shaped tombstone when you die?”
Mom: “No. I’m going in with Gramma.”
Me: “Is there room for a picture of you on her stone?”
Mom: “I don’t think so.”
Me: “Then I’ll build a statue of you.”
Mom: “Okay.”
Me: “I’ll make you thin!”
Mom: “Oh, thanks. Make me tall. And 25!”
Me: “You got it.”
Mom: “And pluck my eyebrows. I didn’t do that then and I really should have.”