Every good thing must come to an end, including vacation. Tonight I’m packing up the hippy spaceship and tomorrow morning I head back to Louisiana.

When I get back, I gotta be pedal to the metal to get my revisions done pronto, and then start whacking together book 3. It’s going to be CRAZY, but I live for the crazy.

I will also have to vacuum up 3 1/2 weeks worth of dead beetles, because they like to come into my apartment to die. I’m like a beetle graveyard person. Which displeases me.

The craziest thing is that tomorrow, when I leave this house that I grew up in, it will be for the very last time. My parents have lived here 31 years, and I am 30… I was brought back to this house from the hospital where I was born. I’m really, really happy they’re moving and it’s to a great home, but it is strange to think that my childhood home will become a rental property soon. I am guaranteed to cry, because I am a very sensitive and emotional person. And by that I mean I’m a basket case. If the shoe fits…

But for today I can wander around and remember things. My favorite thing about this house is that my physical memories are all layered one upon the other, starting with when I was a wee girl. So we have a vegetable sink in my kitchen which we always used to brush our teeth (never thinking it was weird to brush our teeth in the kitchen until a friend pointed it out when I was a teenager). I may not exactly be tall now, but I was a tiny girl, so every time I bend over to drink from the faucet I have a physical memory of having to open up the cupboard below it so I could hike myself up a few inches by standing on the cupboard floor. Then I’d crane myself up on my tiptoes, my neck straining, to reach the water. I have the same thing about our staircase. When I was a child, obviously it was quicker to scoot down the stairs on my bottom and sometimes when I’m in a hurry a part of my brain automatically suggests I go ahead and sit and scoot away…

So it’s strange that this will be my last night here. Oh, the mammaries…

Speaking of mammaries, I will forever remember my recent roadtrip with Rootie. So will my liver, but that’s another story. I wanted to thank her and all of our other friends one more time for being so amazing. I love you guys!!!  And here’s one last Road Trip Moment of Zen… In which Dr. Peeler and Dr. Whisky prove that some dance moves really need to be choreographed. Or you end up in someone’s ass.

See you when I get back to Lousy-Anna!!! All 105 degrees of it………….