|Why I overpack
||[Nov. 12th, 2008|02:01 pm]
Despite my devil-may-care, I am who I am, deal with it attitude...I do try to improve myself. Some things still elude me -- I'm a black belt procrastinator, entropy is my constant companion and if housekeeping were an elementary school, I would be the giant kid with the nascent beard trying to fit into a first-grader's desk. |
(Or didn't you have anybody in your classes who got held back maybe a few too many times? Some of you are too young -- now that would damage your self-esteem. But in Lutheran School in the sixties, no one knew what self-esteem was...)
One of the self-improvement projects I embarked upon was trying to be a better traveler. Well, not traveler, really, but packer. I always pack too much. I'm constitutionally unable to make wardrobe decisions at any point in the 48 hour packing window. (I've tried packing earlier, thinking that maybe the very approach of a trip generates a black hole of clothing indecision, but alas, the THOUGHT of packing seems to be what generates the event horizon.)
And working/traveling for Renfaires has certainly helped -- let's face it, I wear the same damn thing each day. Oh, it might be a change of clothes...but it's both black skirts, both bodices, both chemises. I can just dress by character. Plus a non-costume top and bottom, and I'm pretty much done, because frankly, once I'm out of costume, I'm just so happy to be out, I don't care WHAT I wear, as long as it doesn't have boning.
And I thought I had arrived at a solution for the rest of my traveling life. Black. Chico's Black -- which means non-wrinkly, layery, always matches, fits whether it's the fat me or the not-quite-as-fat me. (And yes, fashionistas, I know, Chico's, the REFUGE for middle-aged and older women with absolutely no fashion sense. Expletive deleted you, okay? At least I'm not stupid enough to wear something that makes me look fat, just because it's fashionable. So put that in your empire waistline!)
Okay, it gets a little messed up when you have a wedding to go to and you're a traditionalist who won't wear black to a wedding unless that's the theme. But that's okay, I still managed to color coordinate everything so that I had, besides the wedding outfit, a minimum amount of clothing. Only two pairs of pants! Only two shirts! Only a single jacket that went with everything! I had a tiny bag full of win and only essential clothing. My camera weighed more! My snacks n'books n'toiletries took up more space! Yay, me! Forty-five years old and I finally packed light!
Which of course, ensured that during my layoever in Denver, happily eating a burrito in a nice sunlight courtyard, I would squirt burrito juice out the other end of the burrito in such a way as to get it on my pants, and then down the arm of my jacket, dousing both jacket and shirt.
Yay, me! An entire weekend smelling like a leftover carnitas burrito!
Despite your burrito incident...which is too close to home to laugh at...
I too am packing challenged.
At home I am the butt of jokes for 'practice packing'.
Yes...I simulate the real thing, minus the last minute pressure,trying to visualize what I would wear each day.
I actually write a checklist...ok, not always...but on week long trips..
Must admit...'Practice Packing' must look like Jack Nicholson in the movie 'As Good As It Gets' (uh...minus the obsessive hand washing, sidewalk crack jumping and bad attitude.)
Kudo's for packing light...Whatever gets us through
daaaang. note to self: avoid all foodstuffs and other sticky/stainy things while traveling light. When wearing clothes, anyway.
Edited at 2008-11-12 09:08 pm (UTC)