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Monday, August 22, 2005

I have two hours to finish sorting out everything I'll need to go out into the deep woods for a couple of days with the Gamut crew and pack for my trip to London. I need to send out some last-minute letters, drop my laptop at the theatre for Peter to use while I'm gone, find a six-pack of beer for the retreat, get money out of the bank to exchange when I get to the airport, and drop in on Morgan Stanley in the hopes that they'll give me a check with which to buy a cello when I return.

I'm flying out on the redeye this Thursday night and arriving in London on Friday morning. I'm terrified of meeting my parents. Mostly, I keep wondering what my dad looks like after two years, a cancer diagnosis, and the beginning of treatment. Is he suddenly old and haggard now? Will I see his death in his face? I'm frightened that I'll take one look at him and start to cry. But I'm also afraid that I'll bottle everything up and show no emotion at all, which would be even worse.

I hope my mother and I behave ourselves.

If you are in London on Saturday night and you wish to stalk me, I've set aside the evening for meeting with Internet friends. The plan is for me to wait at the Saigon Mekong Restaurant for a couple of hours. If anyone shows up, I'll have a friend. If nobody does, I'll eat by myself and cry into my vermicelli noodles.

Saigon Mekong Restaurant
48 Queensway, Bayswater, London, W2 3RY Map
Telephone: 020 7229 9111

Saturday August 27

I'll see you there. Or not.
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