Sigh. What is it with me and my inability to actually recount, in diary form, events that I personally look forward to, experience first-hand, and which I really want to document while the memory is still fresh in my mind?

What follows is the diary I at least started to write on the plane early Monday morning. I meant to finish it later in the day, but circumstances (sleep deprivation, and then our car breaking down, leading to more sleep deprivation) made that impossible.

Of course, I do still intend to write about DeanFest–at very least reflecting on the content of the session dealing with religion, moral values, and democrats. I took copious notes, and I’m going to use them, dang it. But at this point I realistically would need to scrap the first fresh-from-D-Fest beginning and start over.
Well, the thing is, I just can’t bear to just toss out these first thoughts, reflecting on an important difference between last year’s festivities and this year’s, so I hope y’all will bear with me…

I am writing this on the plane at 6:45 a.m. My best guess I’d that we are somewhere over Oklahoma. Last year I thoroughly enjoyed DeanFest as far as “being in the moment”, but I felt a little bad that I somehow never managed to write up anything about the experience.  Last year I flew alone, and, thanks to my brother’s generous donation of his frequent flyer miles, in first class.

While the actual weekend of DeanFest last year was fun, the morning I left was pretty stressful. I took the time to stop at the store and pick up a local newspaper, as I had discovered that morning that the article about the event featured a picture of me with Howard Dean. The shot had captured Howard’s reaction to the home made bumper sticker I’d just given him, which read “I am Howard Dean’s special interest…and John Kerry’s probation officer.” Howard responded to the bumper sticker with one of those laughs where he throws his head back.

There was no way I could leave Pittsfield without a copy of that article, but fitting in that stop before my flight had me running late for my plane. I still had to put gas in the rental, return the rental, and maneuver the whole airport check-in by myself. By the time I was finally on the plane, I was quite frazzled, and grateful to be in first class where the alcoholic beverages were complimentary. I wasn’t thinking about what to write about DeanFest, but about how I was going to get my act together and teach that evening.

This flight home, in spite of being too dang early in the morning, is much less stressful. That’s because, even though the little coach seats make typing on this tiny keyboard feel even more cramped and awkward, I am thankful to have my husband Demetrius here by my side.

I do intend to write more later, when I have more fully recovered from a fun but exhausting week. But for now, I’d just like to say that I’m really happy that this time around Demetrius and I have DeanFest as a shared memory.

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