Okay, I leave for Tibet/Mt. Everest on Monday. I am still terrified of going. Why? I have no clue. I have traveled so many places and never have I experienced the sense of doom I have regarding this trip. In fact, this sense of death is so foreboding that I gave my girlfriend my password to my blog with instructions on what to write should something bad come to pass. If I could, I would up the amount on my life insurance too but at my age that would take a overnight fast, a blood draw and numerous other personal questions that I would have to lie about should I be asked. And just to make this absolutely clear…this sense of doom has NOTHING to do with B… just airplanes, icy goat roads that when you look down its 1000 ft to the bottom, freak snow storms and COLD. BITTER COLD.COLD SO COLD that a word hasn’t been invented for it yet.

So what does one take to Everest in the middle of winter? Who the hell knows… but I have come to suspect that a dash of crazy is probably useful if not mandatory. Better yet…a jigger of vodka which you are cautioned not to drink (makes the altitude sickness worse). Yet, if pressed, I would have to say that the most important thing about being at the Everest Base Camp in the middle of winter is for you to be warm NO MATTER WHAT IT TAKES. Unfortunately, if the past dictates the present, one might say that when I am cold I revert to the personality of a full-on bitchy badger. Yep, where I am concerned: cold =trouble=misery=down-low-bitchy-self.

Since we are going on this trip to celebrate the fact that we have managed to stay together despite B’s pronouncement that he might want a divorce back in July; I have decided that in order to remain married I will need to convince myself that I am in the middle of the desert when in fact I am in the middle of a snow storm with air so thin that just taking in oxygen wears you down and out. So to keep the peace and to promote harmony and ditto that “good will” stuff; I have invested an obscene amount of warm weather gear and “feel-good-about-going” stuff including:

• One warm -40 weather degree parka from Land’s End snagged for $136 on sale (not sexy)
• A blacava (sexy in a bank-robbing-bad-girl sort of way)
• 2 pairs of light thermals in black (sexy…black makes me look 10 pounds thinner)
• 2 pairs of arctic thermals (sexy if you are a bear)
• 1 fleece lined pair of pants/shirt (sexy if your mate is a sasquatch)
• 1 pair of mens polar arctic under your pants wear (sexy if your mate is a gay man and he thinks you are too)
• 5 pairs of heavy socks (I’m too sexy for my socks!)
• 1 pair down mittens that have proven not to keep me warm at night in the middle of the CA desert (might prove useful for certain hand work)
• A second pair of special hand mittens to fit in said down mittens (sexy for that more intricate hand work)
• 5 paris of chemical hand warmers (I’ll let you see mine if you let me see yours)
• 5 large patch body warmers (I need to check if there is a warning on where NOT to put them)
• 5 pairs of chemical foot warmers (for playing footsie)
• special caches of toilet paper (come on… my world would cease to exist in a meaningful way without the stuff and I would NEVER shake your hand without knowing there is some around)
• thing-a-ma-jigs that you put over your boots so you can walk safely on ice (hmmmmm…new sex toy?)
•  I am trying to find waterproofing for my boots (which would be sexy if you sprayed it all over your body and jumped in a pool)
• Three accidental life insurance policies (sexy if you are the beneficiary)
• One evacuate you out on a helicopter insurance policy (sexy if you are doubled over in pain and know there a good drugs when you land)
• One foreign hospitalization policy (sexy in certain countries)
• One water bottle with water filter (clean water is sexy water)
• Various antibiotics, car sickness pills and stop-the-poop pills of various sizes and colors
• A small diary to write a note to my children should the need arise (not sexy but isn’t anything involving your children is anything but sexy)

There. Now you know all the thinking that has been involved for the past three weeks and if you saw me with all this warm wear on you would think I look like an terrifying 300 pound arctic snow beast. Even worse for B, there is no such thing as sexy lingerie that comes in flannel, down or polar fleece.

Frankly, what I have come to realize is that this was an impulse vacation for the hubby and I don’t think B thought this whole thing through. If he wanted sex (which he always does) I would have thought he would have picked a deserted island with a clothing optional theme but Everest in the winter…in a tent or monastery…well, I would have to guess that his chances are about as good as when hell freezes over. Sexy and Everest…they just don’t fit together…and it is doubtful that we will either!

*** Oh…Happy Birthday, Mom. Ironic that I would be posting this on a blog that has B**** in the title because you never were one. Not once. You were a kind gentle soul who suffered much heartbreak over your short 50 years. Hard to believe you have been gone 30 years now. At times I still miss you desperately but rest assured  when a smile still lights up my face I am most probably thinking of you. Gone but never forgotten.***