Between San Francisco and New York, I am going to see three of my four siblings — the Elusive SF Brother, and both my sisters in NY (one is coming to NY on my invitation and the other will happen to be in NY). The last time four of us were together was at my dad’s funeral five years ago; the last time all five of us were together was for mom’s, almost 9 years now. If I could just divert my flight through New Mexico and see the Sweet Southwestern Brother, then a Haycox Fam hat trick will be scored and I will win exactly … nothing.

I’m a little weepy; I’m really concerned about two people in my life that are in deep crisis, and this infernal heat is allowing me to feel it instead of keep it together. Which is not a bad thing, from time to time, but it’s odd, feeling this melancholy overlaid upon my bustling excitement for my trip.

The last time I went away for a week, I had the worst cold of my life. The time before, it was the holidays and there were blizzards. This time, the weather looks a little weird but not too horrible, and the most expectations put upon me include wearing dresses, being charming, shedding a couple matrimonial ceremony tears, and eating. This I can do.

See? A little weird (red lightning bolts?) but not horrible. PS, there’s some lies here — it’s Friday and 80 degrees and climbing in Ventura

Two weddings, two outfits. The SF wedding is at 2pm in a log cabin. It will be warm, and the spirits there will be free, so I have a bright, sleeveless dress and lots of layering options for when the sun and the temperatures plummet. I am wearing a reversible, black-to-turquoise vintage satin swing coat and silver shoes. The swing coat is a ridiculous thing to bring — it takes up too much space space, gets wrinkled, and only goes with this outfit. I don’t care, I don’t care! I want to be fancy! Please don’t tell Molly I’m going to hide it in her closet before I leave SF so I don’t have to take it with me to NY.

The NYC wedding is early evening. I daresay it’s going to be a bit schwankier, and I won’t know anyone but the groom and groom, so I’m going a little more sedate with a black sweater, black and red skirt, and the silver shoes. And a rain coat and boots to change into and a scarf and god knows what else.

Honestly, I’m beside myself with nerves about leaving the Elderly Relative (even though he’ll be in good hands) and don’t know if I’m going to relax until I’m on that damn plane.