Nope, you're not imagining things: I've been posting like a maniac lately. (I've finally given up on my dream of being invited to join the Mandelbrot Set, but I figure I still have a shot at *Women Who Write About Their Feet More Than Is Strictly Necessary.* Look for the logo to show up on my splash page soon.) Lots of you have been sending me nice e-mail about my recent burst of prolificacy, too. Thank you. It's reassuring to know that when I hurl this stuff out into the whereversphere, some of it actually sticks somewhere.
And that's why I think it's important that I let you know when I'm going to be away from The Castle -- and the computer -- for a few days.
Where am I going, you ask?
At the crack of dawn tomorrow morning, SecraTerri and her attractive hood ornament, Ð®åƒ±êrvØ¡, will crawl out of their warm lumpy crumb-strewn bed ... chug down a cup or three of Organic Mexican Altura Roast ... load up the Subaru with guitars and snacks and extra rolls of film ... and head out for the open road, along with the other 43,897,621 California drivers in search of cheap gas and a little Memorial Day Weekend escapism. With any luck, we'll be hopelessly lost by noon.
I can't wait.
This is the very first time that David and I have gone off on a romantic weekend alone together. Going to Seattle last year was fun -- especially spitting off the top of the Space Needle with the Tots -- but I wouldn't exactly call that a *romantic vacation.* And our occasional day-trips are great, but they don't generally involve jacuzzis. Or room service. Or almond massage oil.
So I am nearly beside myselves with joy here.
We have no agenda. We have no hotel reservations. We have no air-conditioning.
What we do have is a glove compartment full of maps, three days off from work and a vague notion that we'd like to go someplace along the coast, where it will be relatively cool. (See: no air conditioning in the Subaru.) A place with plenty of groovy photo ops for our respective websites would be good, too.
Of course, if it turns out that the roads are impossibly jammed and there are no rooms available, anywhere we go, we may very well turn around and end up spending the rest of our Romantic Weekend right here in The Castle. That would be OK, too. (You wouldn't mind seeing more pics of The Ugly Pink Stove, would you?) The important thing is that we're unplugging from the world for three days ... and plugging into each other. No phones. No pagers. No kids. No bills. No housework. No Herbal Essence commercials. No cranky bosses, ordering us to walk to Longs Drugs on our lunch hour to pick up nasal spray. No e-mail, or i.m.'s, or Buddy Lists, or message boards, or stoopid AOL flame wars.
And no *FootNotes.*
Think you can live without it for a few days? I know *I* can.
Have a great weekend, everybody. Seeya next week.
P.S. If you haven't heard from us by Wednesday ... send the hounds.