thirty-eight

Thirty-eight days until the thing that I cannot stop thinking about or talking about happens! I am very excited for this thing to happen, because it is an amazing thing, but then also because it means that all the thing-planning is over and I am firmly in thing-afterglow, which I hear is a mighty fine afterglow indeed.

I am contractually obligated* to post today because of the 38-Geary bus line, which was the reason why I first adored Muni so much. This is a mystery, even to me. Quite frankly, the 38 is kind of a pain in the ass. It is slow and always smells off and even its accordion middles fail to charm its beleaguered passengers.

I don’t have a point here. Not that this place has ever been Point Central, but I really don’t have a point. This is okay because of the thing, which is a handy excuse, except that most excuses don’t have to-do lists a mile long, but we’ll overlook that for now.

Let’s make up a word for that feeling I get whenever I am waiting for someone to call or email me back regarding a Potential Problem with the thing. I feel it so often these days, I figure it should have a word. Make it a curse word.

Here are my to-do list headings with the noises I make when I think about them.

• Venue: whew
• Music: yay
• Flowers: yay
• Invitations: HELL YAY
• Dress: eeeeeeee
• Shoes: BUH
• Hair/makeup: hmm
• Vows: HAHAHA
• Favors: yay?
• Rehearsal and dinner: yesplease
• Other people involved: thankyouthankyou
• The rest: (silent ignoring)

*Not really. But if you wanted to pay me to write things, I would consider that contract.

About Halsted M. Bernard

Halsted, a/k/a cygnoir, does stuff with words. She is a writer and unlibrarian, and she has also been an online diarist since 1998.

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