This weekend is the Phoenix Comic Con and we're really excited and have kind of had this denial mentality that somehow it's still months away and so everything has been put off until the very last minute, which incidentally is pretty much right now. Our only saving grace is that Phoenix is a real city with things like pharmacies and Target to buy all the things that we forget to bring (toothbrushes! hair brushes! socks!) which will come in handy because I made a list of things that we need to do before we go (clean bathroom, dye hair, rent car, eat dinner) and I sincerely doubt we're going to get halfway through it. [I thank Evan in advance for having low expectations of cleanliness when he house sits for us] I suspect we're going to show up with a shopping bag full of bobby pins and hot cocoa mix and maybe a few cotton balls. If we were McGyver, it wouldn't be an issue, but since we're not even the "Mc" in McGyver (maybe the "yv") we won't get far.
It's about a 5 hour drive (3 hours to the stateline, 2 into Phoenix) and I anticipate to cross the border before we realize the iron is plugged in and the cat is locked in the bathroom and oh, Ryan lost his wallet (again). But I'm calm about it. I don't know why. I should be super stressed. I'm meeting people in real life (what's that?) for the first time and sleeping in their house! I have to use a convention center restroom! I might possibly have to fart and someone might possibly hear it! I should be rocking myself to sleep, murmuring and eating Xanax. But for some reason, I'm not. And I'm ok with that. So list be damned - we're going anyway. Sure, we won't have clean underwear or photo ID, but that's what Target is for, right?