23 June 2007
19 fault lines
like the whole entire rest of humanity, i have many many flaws. but the one i'm struggling with in this very minute is my capacity to take the most inconsequentially stupid teeny tiny thing and make it the absolute end of the world in my silly little head.
darling meggie's wedding is forthcoming. t-minus six days. and- aside from some residual paranoia that my as-yet-to-be-tried-on bridesmaid dress won't fit (a fear entirely too fearsome to actually begin to fear)- what has me completely panic stricken?
because oh my God what if in the midst of a 56-hour trip to see practically everyone i know i run out of things to read?!
it should be so simple. oh, to be one of those people for whom trip reading is a casual affair. a brief dalliance at an airport newsstand and a fling with the latest grisham. but no. i am so far from being one of those people that i probably couldn't even be friends with those people.
i am the girl who has spent the last 36 hours, sustained only by cheese sandwiches and diet coke, tearing through the 497 pages of tina brown's diana chronicles, for the sole, perfectly sane reason that this will then allow four weekdays in which to pull a quickie with a 250-page jackie bio so that the trip might finally bring about the end of an intermittent six-months-long emotional entanglement with the memoirs of le duc de saint-simon, volume 1.
as though this fact were of some great import to humanity. as though my ability to blaze through these three books and offer royal gossip, kennedy insight, and a derivative sliver of seventeenth century lavatorial humor in the midst of meggie's matrimony is going to have a life-changing impact.
maybe it's the the lack of substantive nutrition talking or perhaps its just the 36 hours of tina brown's stultifying prose, but i think i've maybe kind of sort of seen the light. clearly, a carry-on bag of books is the only way to go.