FLUBBING MY CHANCE FOR A SNEAK PREVIEW

Gone Fishin' - Indo-style

Dearest Friends,

John proposed to me in the fall, then tried to talk me into coming over for a visit during my Christmas break, but I just couldn’t do it.  First of all, I told him, my parents would freak at the idea of me staying with him before we were actually married, which was true (them being oblivious to the fact that it was pretty much a moot point after our having been together at UT for several years during the "Make Love Not War" era).  Years later when my middle sister married her husband, at almost 40 years of age, their apartment leases both ran out shortly before the wedding, so they went ahead and moved into their new place together just a week or so before the ceremony.  During that time, they had a break-in one night, and Mom said "It's God punishing them for living in sin!" (Though I must admit, she said it with a twinkle in her eye.)

My second excuse was that I feared he would somehow talk me into going ahead and getting married while I was there, so we could forego the hoopla of a formal wedding -- which would have been fine with me, if it weren’t for that one semester of school I had yet to go.  Hey, I didn’t work my butt off to put myself through school just to give up now, twelve hours shy of a degree!

The real clincher though, was the shots.  I hate shots.  A lots.  (This year I finally got my very first flu shot, after weeks of pressure from friends and family.)  John never should have gone into such detail about the huge number of shots you had to get before going to Indonesia, nor told me about his big tough friend S., who keeled over in a dead faint before they ever got the first needle in him (the nurse just went ahead and loaded him up as he lay there on the floor).  I knew I’d have to deal with them sooner or later, but if I had a choice, I’d take later.

Water Buffalo

Anyhoo, since I had no idea what or how much to pack, I just had to wing it.  I packed my new sewing machine and associated paraphernalia, a couple of Corning casseroles, a few plates and plastic glasses, a few towels, and my little appliances.  When the shippers arrived to pack it up, I had everything laid out on a couple of card tables in the corner of my bedroom, and I actually apologized to them for there being so much for them to pack.  They snorted and said, “You’ve got to be kidding!”, which is exactly what John said when the shipment finally arrived.  “This is it?  This is all you brought?”  “Well, you told me not to go overboard!”