I'm watching Back to School starring Rodney Dangerfield right now. This movie feels very different to me than it used to. I feel old. I relate more to Rodney's character than to his college aged soon (although, truth be told, I have always thought that "young" actor looked WAY OLD. I still do.). So is life.
Next weekend I'm traveling with the fam (always with the fam; never again without. That is my vow) to Philadelphia to hang and speak at the NCTE (National Council for Teachers of English) conference, specifically at the ALAN (Assembly on Literature for Adolescents) Workshop. I am super nervous, but not about the conference stuff. Maybe I should be, but traveling with a baby trumps all nervousness of any other kind. What will I have to remember to bring? What will I forget? Will she fuss on the plane? Will she get Matt's cold just in time for the trip? Will I? That, on top of heaps of booktalks at work this week, is making me a loon. And to top it off, I just can't decide on which pair of shoes to buy to go with my dress that I plan to wear to the conference cocktail shindig (where all of the authors at ALAN will cocktail about). This is making me batty. Like, I can't stop buying shoes just in case they are the right pair to wear. I need the PERFECT pair of shoes. But why? Why does it matter anymore? Ever since I had Romy, I have such a guilt about spending money on shoes for myself. And now I have one week to choose the perfect pair. Or... or what? None of this addresses the fact that I have to present on a panel about writing humorous stories. But that's not until Tuesday morning, well after the cocktail party where I must wear the correct shoes to attend. Now that I think about it, what shoes will I wear to the panel? Will people be able to see my feet?
Update: Romy has a cold! Which is good because it will hopefully be gone by next weekend. But the question remains: when do I get mine?