Packing
I hate it.
So far I have my suitcase 3/4 of the way full, and I think I'm spent. Part of my mental packing block comes from the fact that I know I need to lug whatever I pack onto the train, to Montpellier, up a hill and 3 flights of stairs, down the stairs, onto a tram, on a bus, to the ticket counter, through the airport, on another train, on the subway, and down a few blocks to my friend's 1st floor (thank GOD) apartment. Not to mention leaving New York City!
Thinking in terms of poundage and hauling distance has made me evaluate the value of many of my belongings: I don't ever really read that cultural literacy dictionary. I never used that $40 converter, not once, all year long - and the ONE TIME I did, it fried the hairdryer. I don't think I ever truly liked those heels, anyway. And that huge beach blanket fabric? I mean, it served its purpose as a toga, so do I really need to hang on to it?
Plus my sister wants me to bring a few of her things home for her. While I really don't mind, I actually do. I mean, I really wouldn't mind at all except for the fact that my suitcase is already quite cumbersome; I really want it to be as light as possible.
But because I am an amazing sister, I'll probably let Sarah stuff my case chock-a-block full. Ugh. If you're reading this, Sarah, please consider only giving me things you really can't fit into your own luggage at the end of the year. Please. My back is begging you.
PS - Spell check works in Mozilla (along with a whole bunch of other nifty features I never realized were here). I think I've got to abandon Safari.
posted by Meghan @ 2:02 PM
6 comments
6 Comments:
Okay, so first of all: I was only going to give things to you that I was going to have to mail home otherwise. Second of all: it was just a few articles of cumbersome clothing. Third of all: if it bugged you, you shouldn't have offered in the first place!
Jeez! I didn't realize asking you to bring a few things home would ruin your going home experience!!!
But lucky for you, I am still going to make you do it. Because you offered.
And what is with the "if" I read your journal? I check it compulsively, like three times a day.
Hmmm... well, you never write anything, or mail me, so how would I know?
Second, if I asked you to bring MY cumbersome clothing home, would you be happy about it?
Third, I didn't offer, you asked and I thought it might be ok.
Fourth, my bag is already quite heavy/full.
Fifth, what are the things you want me to bring home? I'd love to be mentally prepared.
Sixth, my apologies! I'm just starting to get a little stressed out about this trip, that's all.
Okay, so I did ask.... but you obviously have no problem saying no! But you said yes. My "cumbersome clothing" is my tan jacket, a skirt, two scarves, and I think that's it. So don't get your panties in a bunch over it.
And don't be stressed. I know my saying it won't make it so, but you are an experienced traveler, and they speak ENGLISH in the country where you're going. That makes it maybe ten percent easier (I would say more, but your french has gotten so much better it is sometimes easier to use french formalities and get the job done).
And I have written on here three times this week (after this entry)
And I am not sure how I would feel about hauling some of your clothing, so let me say again, THANK YOU!!!
Ok, FEW!! I can totally deal with that. When you said "cumbersome" I totally flipped out... I was thinking peacoats, shoes, and other annoying, heavy, randomly shaped objects.
Excuse me, I need to get my heart palpitations under control now that I know I need not freak out and contemplate the 5 most evil ways to shun you for 45 minutes (because really, that's about as long as I can be pissed at you).
Seriously, we're both so bad about staying mad at each other.... I see that as a good thing. :-D
Reading your two blog comments is the next best thing to actually having you at home. I can close my eyes and imagine .................................................... How very glad I do not have to hear it in my own house!!!!
Just kidding, smile a little, love you both!
Dad
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