We're going fah-fah away to attend a wedding next weekend and I haven't even started my packing and to-do list yet. This is not like me. Though I am a gold medal caliber procrastinator, any opportunity to make lists (and lists of said lists) is a treat, and nearly the whole point of traveling for me. Well not quite, but I do so enjoy my obsessive organizing. And on top of that I get to make detailed lists for my childcare peeps, which will probably require footnotes and maybe an appendix. Better get hoppin'!
It's such a short trip though, I'm not even sweating it. I think I can get away with the bare minimum of prep. We shouldn't need too much in the way of clothing, particularly because it's like a million degrees where we're going. I should at least try on the dress I'm planning to wear though, it'd be a shame to get all the way there and realized I packed something that doesn't fit. I'm sure I'm subconsciously avoiding finding out whether I can still rock my favorite pre-preg semi-formal wear now that I'm two years post-preg. Oh well, whatever. Worst case I'll buy a new dress. That is my kind of "worst case."
In addition to getting into my planning mindset, things I should be doing, ASAP:
-seeing the damned "Hunger Games" before it's out of theaters
-wrapping up the guest entry I owe someone
-wrapping up this entry and getting to some work I'm not so excited to do.
But first, quandary of the week, redux: Mike and I watched some of "Rattle and Hum" the other night. I love documentaries. I don't really like U2. Like hardly at all except for a couple of songs. And the doc presents Bono in such a damning light, like maybe he's the legendary asshole he's purported to be and maybe not, but the arrogance in every frame of this film, it's like, do you think he should have sued for his portrayal? Or does he just not care? Anyway, I'm struggling with the same thing I was talking about yesterday, because every time B was on screen, all that I could think of was, "Who do you think you are in those heels? You are not Prince." This is correct thinking in one way because there is only one Prince and thank heaven and the angels of funk for that, but I know deep down that this is another example of the insidious meanness of appearance-based attacks. Part of me feels like it's especially important that I check this impulse when it comes to women because they get the raw deal in this respect and have since forever, but it's still me insulting Bono's looks as a shortcut to commentary on his character, and that's just plain lazy if nothing else.
In one way I can see how I'm overthinking this. But still... I'm not ready to be that dismissive of my feelings on this subject entirely. Hmm. Better let Damien take us out.
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