Saying farewell

This is the most to-do I've ever done before moving.  It started at our going-away shindig in mid-April and culminated last night at the Long Branch, one of my favorite non-fussy bars in Austin--and also where I happened to first meet Conner and Dan.  I think Conner summed up how we both feel the best: "I feel like I been et by wild dogs and then pooped off of a cliff." 

The boys want to leave tonight and drive up to Colorado.  We all have our own cars to drive which leaves no opportunity for trading off sleeping/driving stints.  They're experienced in the art of night driving but I'm not.  The best method I know of making sure to stay awake is to load up on Atomic Fireball candy and listen to Spice Girls.  Laugh if you must, but they're peppy enough and I know the words enough to get energized by belting out "Wannabe" or maybe "Spice Up Your Life".

The last time I left for an extended vacation we all got the makings for White Russians and tried to watch The Big Lebowski.  I confess that I've never actually seen the film's ending.  I've tried multiple times but can never make it all the way through...mainly because of getting into the movie a little too well (ie. White Russian drinking games) and typically fall asleep about half way through.  The next day when my flight left I was aching something fierce, and traveling severely hung-over sucks.  When my flight out of Austin was delayed and thus making me miss my connecting flight to London and then Spain, I kind of lost it in a very ungraceful, tear stained way in the teriminal.  It was plain embarrassing.  I'd like to think that had I not been feeling so wretched, I'd have kept it all together a bit better but who knows. 

I sincerely hope none of that happens when we embark tonight with Scary and Posh Spice in tow.