Wednesday, February 22, 2006

Clean, pack. Clean, pack. Pack, pack, pack!

Whenever I've got any kind of trip coming up - no matter how long or how short the adventure may be - I turn into a neurotic cleaner and packer. My brain kind of goes into stealth mode, and all it can think about is what I haven't done or how I can re-do what I've already finished.

Yes, I believe it's a tad excessive - but, hey, that's just the way I am sometimes (i.e. now).

Jon and I are heading up to Lynchburg, Va., to visit my mother and meet her new boyfriend this weekend. Two daunting efforts rolled into one, if you ask me.

I love my mother to death - she and I have always gotten along very well, and she was always thought of as "the cool mom" when I was growing up. She and I love the same music, could shop all day and all night if given the opportunity, and always share at least one tear-inducing fit of laughter during our visits.

However ... The visit to Virginia can get a little iffy when other family members are involved ... namely a wacko cousin who knows my political views and gets a big kick out of ruffling my feathers by disagreeing with everything I have to say.

Add to that the fact that Lynchburg is Falwell Country (as in Jerry Falwell), and you've got hell, if you ask me.

Then there's meeting my mother's boyfriend, which is going to be interesting ... he's seven years younger than my mom (way to go!), is a hippie computer geek (my mother's words, not mine) and apparently wants to marry her (they've been dating 5 months).

Needless to say, I'm a bit nervous, concerned and anxious all in one.

Really, I don't know what to think, so I'm trying not to think at all. Instead, I'm cleaning and packing. It's what I do best, of course.