sistawendy | preparations for people travelling

Yesterday I cleaned my apartment as it hasn't been cleaned in months, attacking the things growing on my shower surround and bedroom window frame. I think that's what gave me a hellacious coughing jag last night: it was the last of the mildew's attempts at revenge. I have prevailed, though.

And why would I do the cleaning now? Because the Tickler is coming this evening! There will be a sexy outfit, a trip to our old place Itto's in West Seattle where I hope we can get a table outside, and of course ahem.

And I just got my marching orders from Good Sister for my trip to Mom's on Wednesday. Maybe this won't suck as much as I feared it would, but it's not going to be a party. Kissing ass doesn't come naturally to me and Mom craves it these days.

What she craves even more is alcohol. My niece brings one 750ml bottle of gross wine per week, but GS briefed me in steps I need to take to prevent her from obtaining any more. There's a precedent for this: Mom used to get stumbling drunk when I was in high school. Back then I was alone in even raising any objections. This time, though, my sisters are on my side and Dad is dead. I take a tiny amount of satisfaction from this: time has proven me right, even if I'm not sure my sisters even remember the earlier incidents.

But I've done a couple of fun things to prepare for the trip:

I got a Fluevog Devil Tail belt in keeping with my devil girl esthetic, and
I got my nails done, a gel in the shade I call I Fingered Barbie, at the nail shop up the hill that I'd mysteriously never been to.

I'm as ready as I'm going to get. My son may hate me for having him drive me to the airport at 0530, but when you've got a dementia patient waiting for you in the Eastern time zone, you make sacrifices.