Trail of Crumbs

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I won’t be traveling much between now and the end of the year, so posting will be rather slow until early January. I’m still doing a lot of writing, but it’s being channeled into some side projects, as well as the Travel Guides, which I intend to launch in early 2014 (stay tuned!)

In the meantime, I find myself home in Seattle, with little to report. But before I say goodbye to this year, I wanted to share with you a few photos from the last couple of months (all of them are courtesy of Rand’s cell phone).

Times Square, September:

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Despite a few rather notable exceptions, I’ve found I’m not a big crier.

I have nothing against it, mind you. I think tears are rather good for your skin, and they can be rather poetic and lovely and necessary, like when Emma Thompson totally loses it at the end of Sense and Sensibility.

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It’s just not my thing, I guess (come to think of it, it wasn’t Elinor’s either, was it?). I don’t conceal my emotions: they are apparent to everyone. But more often than not, they choose to present themselves not through tears but rather through sarcasm, weird facial expressions, and an insatiable hunger for cookies.

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Addressing Wil’s team at the end of the week.

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Philadelphia was hard on Rand.

Don’t get me wrong: it was well worth it, and he was grateful for the experience, but damn it, it was hard.

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I went to L.A. and brought him a toy train on a string. I figured it would go over well, and it did. I wasn’t really surprised.

He is my brother’s son, after all.

He dragged the train around with him, and then he showed it to Rand.

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Rand is currently out of town (he left on Sunday morning, and he’ll be back tonight). His absence makes me nervous, because when he is not around, it means that I am alone.

Now, that wouldn’t be a problem except for this: I should not be left alone, ever. Being alone means that I am in charge of my own well-being – a task for which I am woefully unqualified. If I am the only person in the house, I can do whatever I like and there will be no one around to stop me from doing dangerous and calorically irresponsible things, usually while still in my pjs.

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I’m sorry for the lull in blogging, and the long delay in recounting the highlights of our Philly trip. I promise to get back to all of that tomorrow. Today, though, I wanted to tell you about something that happened during our weekend jaunt to California. Because I think the full force of it hasn’t hit me yet (pun not intended). 

A member of hotel staff tries to figure out what the hell happened outside of our room.

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I often have odd reactions to things, both emotionally and physically. To me, they make sense, of course. But anyone else would think I was a bit strange.

I have slow reflexes, and my flight or fight response is clearly broken. I once saw a car careening towards my friend Lauren, and my response was to rush over to her, put my arms around her and … stand perfectly still. So, you know, she wouldn’t be alone when the car hit her. That was my way of protecting her, I guess. (Spoiler: we were fine.)

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The thing about being married to a nine-year-old-boy who’s trapped in the body of a 34-year-old man is this: you are the only one that really knows him.

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See, he’s done a pretty good job concealing the fact that, at heart, he’s still nine-years-old. He’s been hiding it from everyone for the past (counts on fingers …) TWENTY-FIVE YEARS. There are people who he sees, each and every day, who have no clue. To them, he’s Rand FancyPants-Does-Something-With-Computers-Maybe (?? note to self: find out what husband does for work).

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I have a deadline tomorrow, and I’m caught between working on the project that’s due, freaking out that the project is due tomorrow, and then wasting time surfing the internet because I can’t seem to focus on the project that is OMG DUE TOMORROW.

So that’s why I didn’t really get a post up today. And lord knows if I’ll get one up tomorrow which, if you are just joining us, IS WHEN MY PROJECT IS DUE.

Clearly, I’m holding my sanity together by an even thinner thread than usual, folks. If you need any evidence of that, you need look no further than the note I wrote myself last night as I was falling asleep. The idea hit me, and I thought it was so brilliant, so incredible, that I just had to write it down.

Ignore the scribbles at bottom right. Those are just directions to my friend’s house. And yes, this is on the back of a light bill. Because that is how I organize my life.

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