Dysfunctional Neurological Firing Sequences

Planning a vacation is one of the most exhausting things to do. It'll just wear you out thinking about all the things that need to be synchronized. No wonder it is a thriving business. Well, at least it was a thriving business until third world terrorism became a clear and present danger to all Americans going about their daily lives.

I've been working hard on trying to create a trip that we can all live with. You see, John and I are making a trip to see my mother, which doesn't happen very often. We can't go see Mom without going to see my sister and her family which are only a $39 hop to Burbank. I rarely see them also. And since we're going to be on the West coast I couldn't possibly not drive down to San Diego to visit one of my best friends. A woman that was known to get into all sorts of mischief with me during college and has gone through 19 reconstructive surgeries in the last 4 years. That little video-cam I sent her is fine for the occasional online chat but a weak replacement for physical human contact.

I've been online quite a bit browsing travel specials and deals that are not so special. Boy, are there a lot of them. It's like shopping for a cheap kitchen appliance. Checking out the going rate first and then following up in a desultory fashion with some trips to places like Dent and Ding, hoping to unearth an overlooked treasure in the warehouse of dilapidated department store deviants.

In the meantime I've made several superfluous calls, emails and chatted everyone involved in our trip checking and rechecking to see if things will meld. While chatting up my sister tonight I got a good chuckle out of her bemoaning her husbands disdain over not finding whatever it was he was seeking on Ebay.

She started with reminding me "We don't have cable". And then going on about his bidding in a semi-reclined position across the couch, whining about not being able to find something in the house earlier. She huffed a bit and spat out "We've only lived in this house for 6 years, no wonder you still don't know where anything is!".

She's a teacher, so his dysfunctional neurological firing sequences after a 16 hour day are merely a small stretch for her after spending the entire day surrounded by much shorter people with the same outlook. She teaches 5-6 year olds.

The chat applets are a new experience for my sister. She is just starting to get the hang of it. We were gabbing away while I made reservations when she informed me that her family tends to hover whenever she gets on the computer, buzzing like flies. I told her what I do when John does that. I swat at him. Sometimes it's easier if I just dim the light at my desk so he'll go in search of a brighter light in another room. I got no reply to my suggestions. Go figure.
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3/22/2005 3:5 AM