90 minutes until go-time. I am sitting here with wet hair, a torn apart apartment and with suitcases yet to be packed. Not to mention, I have to deal with bird and cleaning of bird cage for the poor, poor birdsitter. I am freaking a bit. Worried about leaving work, worried about navigating JFK, worried about not having enough dough, worried about wee one in the car, worried about forgetting important things... I could go on. But, I won't. Lucky y'all. I will be fine once I'm on the plane. I love flying. I love the smell of coffee and heated plastic foodstuffs. I hope I am not seated beside a freak. You know, not once have I ever had an attractive man sit beside me on a flight. Seriously. Never. Ah, but who gives a shit? Atractive traveling men are a dime a dozen. And if a foxy fellow was sitting beside me I would be self-conscious about looking fat or falling asleep and drooling on myself.

I will have fun in NYC, you'll see. I might try to post from afar, but we'll see. You just wait on pins and needles, right? Thanks to all of you who have given me tips and advice about the big city. Wish me luck and good shoe sales.

Slush out.