I almost lack words to explain how excited I am. 95% of it blossoms from my inner history geek. Honestly, thank heavens the convention is in Brighton and not Hastings. I would probably go into a history-induced coma and miss the whole thing. I've lived my whole life in Oregon. History started in the mid-1800s out here. (Yes, the Native Americans of our region have a rich and fascinating history, but unfortunately, my predecessors went out of their way to destroy the evidence.) Can you imagine standing on the site of a historical incidence from almost 1000 years ago? For me, it's mind-boggling.
Needless to say, I'm a little wound up about this trip. On top of my natural nervousness about leaving my family--and I've never spent more than one night away from The Midget, so it's a pretty serious nervousness--I have to worry that I'll bump into some historical plaque and become so overwrought with the vapors of the past that I pass out.
People reading this are probably smugly certain that I'm exaggerating. I'm not. You're reading the rantings of a woman who looked at a fossil of archaeopteryx and began bawling hysterically. A woman who became so shaky and weepy at the Art Institute of Chicago that she had to go back to the hotel and take a bath. A woman who raved for two days after entering the rare book room at the library.
I. AM. A. DORK.
A really, really excited dork.