Even though I’m not leaving for a month I spend a great part of my day planning for my Santa Fe trip.

What to wear? What to wear?

If this were a Jewish function I would just pile on the jewelry and relax but I understand the goyim are quite subtle in their dress.

I figure I’ll pack a bunch of choices and take the lay of the land before I appear in public. The problem with this plan is that David said I can only take carry-on. Aside from my 2 season wardrobe that would mean I have to lug my computer, my pocketbook and my sleep machine along with my tiny suitcase. Fitting in all I want to bring with me won’t work even if I wear 5 or 6 layers.

Luckily this morning Liz overheard David when he was telling me that he would leave my ass at the Albuquerque airport if he had to wait even one minute for me to get my luggage so she told him that I could bring as many bags as I want and he’ll have to lump it.

That problem solved.

Back to my clothing choices. I assume Santa Fe is different from New York  I don’t want to feel out of place so no daisy dukes and absolutely nothing midriff baring. Certainly during daylight hours. At night I’m sure anything goes.

Liz’s father is the biggest wheel I’ve ever met. He rubs elbows with Presidents and movie stars. Not to mention Shahs. Even though I can get by telling my friends in New York that he and I are very close friends and he never makes a move without checking with me, that might not fly down there where  people know him so I’m probably going to have keep the “bragging” to a minimum.

I’m not only going to have to clean up my wardrobe, my language will need a bit of brushing up.

Yep for 4 days, 3 nights it’ll be like the word “fuck” was never invented. And “cocksucker”? Never heard of it. Even if someone asks me “How’s dave?”