I am writing this on the airplane. My plan is to cut-and-paste this into a post once I get to the hotel and have Internet access. Therefore, if you’re reading this, I’m in San Francisco. But as I’m writing it, I am somewhere above Colorado.
I am absolutely doped up on too much ativan right now so forgive me if my posts don’t make sense until I’ve gotten a chance to sleep it off. Ativan is one of those strange drugs that takes a long time to begin working and you’re so anxious for it to start working that you start thinking there must be something wrong with the pills you just took—maybe they’re too weak or you weigh too much—so you take another. And maybe one more for good measure. And then, fifteen minutes later when the first pills begin to kick in you have a few regrets about wasting all of the additional ones. Though it’s not like you can fish those out of your belly.
The last time I flew with Josh and took this much ativan, I blacked out. I do remember standing up on the plane and serenading the other passengers with a deeply moving, deeply emotional, and excessively repetitive version of "Amazing Grace" in full vibrato. I have vague memories of making our way back to our friend’s apartment. But I didn’t know that they had covered me in temporary tattoos until I woke up to pee in the morning. I knew I needed that level of ativan to get on this plane today. And instead of serenading the passengers with a fine rendition of “Seasons of Love” from Rent (playing all of the parts, of course), I am instead using my excellent powers to express myself on ativan to blog for you.
I like the idea of keeping an on-going, constantly updated journal of this experience. I like being around smart chickies who are going to say cool things and make me see the world in a different way.
Why did I need to be this far-gone to get on the plane? It has been a long time since I’ve flown. Maybe 3 years? I just don’t leave the twins. It’s not that I don’t trust others to take care of them or that I think they’ll fall apart without me. This is all about me. I cannot be without them. A case in point, I returned to their empty beds many times at 3:30 am to sniff their pillows. Not just sniff their pillows. Breathe their pillows. Hold their pillows and start crying again. I am such a freakin’ mess.
It took a long time to pack last night and we had gotten some upsetting news in the afternoon that threw us off emotional-wise. A lot of things I wanted to get done before we left fell by the wayside. But we packed until midnight and then climbed into bed with two alarms set for 3:30 am. The first one did not go off but it didn’t matter because I never fell asleep. When it hit 3:30, I simply served as Josh’s human wake-up call. I had been circling through all of my worries for 3 and a half hours. I am very good at worrying instead of sleeping. I am not as good as flipping things the other way around.
What were my worries? Being far away from home; being far away from the kids; getting work done (since this is a break from work and I have a deadline at the end of July); fitting everything in; fitting everyone in; not feeling badly if I don’t want to be social; learning how to apply make-up for this picture I have to have taken there (I haven’t worn makeup without my sister applying it); getting the most out of this experience; where am I going to store my bags until I check in; will I be able to check in early enough to take a small nap and take a shower… And then it went back to the beginning.
We headed off to the airport at 4:30 am. It was completely dark still. I was a wonderful person prior to taking the ativan. I allowed another couple to go in front of us in line during check in. I helped a woman get her items in the security boxes before I did my own. Then I took the ativan.
As I was sitting in the terminal, Mommy Needs a Cocktail came by and accidentally dropped a glass bottle of orange juice. Pre-ativan Melissa would have stood up and helped her. Post-ativan Melissa was sitting perfectly still, looking for signs that the medication was kicking in. She felt like a bitch not getting up to help with the cleanup. She’s like to apologize publicly to her for not helping. When did I switch into discussing myself in third person?
There are bloggers galore on the flight. I am not brave enough to strike up a conversation with them. It makes me wonder if this is the ativan flattening all emotion or if this is just who I am—a little shy; better one-on-one than in large groups. Seeing the other bloggers talking; laughing and shrieking and showing off t-shirts they made and cool shoes, made me feel as if I need to either kick up the sass a notch to survive this or allow myself to feel okay hiding out in the Internet café. I’m going to try to kick up the sass tonight. We’ll see how well it works.
This day is sort of gone. From the moment I land until 8 pm, I am spoken for with a series of commitments. So I could meet anyone after 8. I’d love to grab a group for a drink or quick bite before going to The People’s Party. If you are up for a quick something close by at 8, leave a comment below. Tomorrow (Friday), it feels like things are free after 6 pm. The rest of the day is taken up with the conference and two side trips to see my cousin (who looks exactly like me) and my publisher. But after 6, there are parties that I don’t know a lot about. Would people want to grab dinner at 6 on Friday? Lastly, I would need to stay at the hotel, but if people are coming to the panel, we should group up before that. I can’t access my information right now because I don’t have an Internet access, but I think it’s somewhere around 1:45. So, three ways to meet up: Thursday after 8 pm, Friday after 6 pm, Saturday at 1:45. If you can make any of these or all of these, let me know in the comments below and specify which one(s).
Once we get a critical mass, I’ll throw out a place so people know where to go. I think heading to places that are self-serve like bars or coffeehouse so people could drop in and out depending on how much time they have would work best. So I’m turning this over to Luna to name places in the area that fit that bill. Any?
Welcome to San Francisco.