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August 15, 2003
I haven’t got much time for a proper journal entry this week because I’m packing. Packing for California. For twelve days of dust air and sweltering heat. We’re heading off to Bakersfield on Saturday morning, and we’re driving. All 900-some-odd miles of it. In one day. Yes, this is the part where, if I were a horse, some kindly old man would take me out behind the barn and put me out of my misery while a pubescent girl in braids and flannel would stand out by the fence and cry bravely into her hands.
And, in all seriousness, that scenario would usually be preferable to spending long amounts of time with my in-laws (or, as I like to call them, my out-laws). I know what you’re thinking. I know that you’ll swear that your in-laws are the worst, bar none. Please, please, put aside your arguments with this morsel: I’ve seen my father-in-law in his dirty boxers. More than once.
The good news is that I'll be sure to have plenty of stories to regale the masses with when I return. The bad news is that I fear that getting these stories will prove to be a tad bit distasteful. Ahh, well. Like I always say, my in-laws are crazy, pass the butter.
I've started a Literature/Poetry thread on my TTM board, and have posted two of my favorite poems. Please feel free to stop by and comment.
Two weeks and counting,
Heather
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