SH: Bubba* asked me last night if we wanted to go to a party tomorrow night.
Me: Sure. That sounds like fun. What time?
Train station in Peru. I took these photos in 1995 as I was coming back overland from my two-year stint as a Peace Corps volunteer in Chile. And despite having been a PCV, I am politically libertarian/conservative. Go figure.
[Not really. I hate parties. Unless I know a lot of the people there. And like them. And it's not too late, because I hate staying up late. And there's not too much cigarette smoke, because although I fully support my body my choice to inhale and if cigarettes are sooooo bad then make them illegal, I too have a choice and my choice is not to be around them. But SH likes Bubba, who runs SH's favorite karaoke show and always lets SH sing a lot -- SH is a fabulous singer I know go figure but he is! -- and his wife and so do I and Lord knows we need to make some friends around here.]
Me: That's not too bad. [Whew!]
Kids in the altiplano in either Peru or Bolivia. This was 14 years ago. I can't remember these things. I can hardly remember yesterday.
SH: Bubba will let me know tonight if the party is going to happen.
Me: What do you mean, if it's going to happen?
SH: He's not sure yet. It's his wife's sister's boyfriend something something. There might be a party, there might not. Bubba and his wife might or might not be going. I'm not sure about us.
Peru, near Cuzco.
Me: Let me get this straight. There are a few possibilities here: the party may or may not happen. Bubba and his wife may or may not attend. We may or may not be invited.
SH: That's it.
SH: No email from Bubba. I still don't know if the party is going to happen.
Peru, near Cuzco.
Me: Who on earth is so completely disorganized that he hasn't decided less than 24 hours before a party if he is going to have it or not?**
* Not his real name.
** For those of you late to the game: For our very small wedding in September ("You could do so much better" and I'll let you decide which parents said that to which of us), I had a four-page project plan including meals (accommodating my brother's hemochromatosis and varying degrees of lactose intolerance, from any form of milk will upset my stomach to I want expensive Lactaid to drink but I'll eat lots of cheese as a snack), arrivals and departures from the Milwaukee and Chicago airports over several days, and getting everyone to the church and then to the restaurant for the wedding supper written a month before the event. So yeah, I could put together a party in less than 24 hours, but what about guests? Don't they need some notice? Not everyone is like us, spending every Saturday night with a bowl of Cheerios and a DVD from the library in the basement. Some people actually have a life.
Health clinic in Peru near Cuzco. I think it's either in or near Sacsayhuaman, which sounds like "Sexy Woman" when you say it out loud, which is the only reason I can remember it.