In eight days, I’ll be flying out of DC with my friend Rebecca. We will spend two weeks together in France, and though I am in charge of the itinerary and can list for you the places we’ll go and the people we’ll see, I only speak of it as if I’m recapping the plot of a novel I just read.
Ever since this trip became a reality, I’ve been living in semi-denial. Whenever someone seems a bit too impressed by all of it, I point out that this is not something I ever thought I’d be doing. “This is the type of trip that Awesome People take, and which I read about on their blog.”
We have a lot of dreams and plans wrapped up in this trip, many which haven’t even started to flesh themselves out. I’m okay with that. It’ll develop as we go. I suspect you’ll find us at the airport Saturday, two brunettes sitting in the corner, gesturing wildly and talking a mile a minute, pausing to quickly create something on the laptop nearby. Dramatically pressing PUBLISH or SEND, then broadly smiling as they high-five.