Packing for a big trip presents an interesting challenge: how does one put their entire life into, what basically is, a 29″ box? How does one quantify themselves in a 50 lb checked bag? Not only is packing, in this case, challenging in sense that, “Oh shit! I have to pack clothing for two seasons, textbooks for my 15 unit course load, my makeup, hair product and it must all fit into a 29″ box?!? AS IF?!?,” but it’s also challenging in the sense that it forces you to figure out (in what must be noted as a very short period of time) what’s most important to you. I just hope I still have some hair left by the time I step off the plane in Athens… Otherwise, I might look like that weird kid from the third grade who sits in the far corner of the class eating a cocktail of his own hair and glue, which results in having no friends and an utterly miserable existence in which I develop a sever case of hodophobia in which I have to hospitalized at a psychiatric ward.
But, I am getting ahead of myself. EVERYTHING IS GOING TO BE FINE (yoga breath… oooommmm).
So far a collection of white shirts have made the cut as well as my bomber jacket, chucks, a piece of cardboard that reads,”Nudist on Strike…” An ad from a fishing magazine my roommate Chris posted above my bed after splitting a handle of Jack Daniels which resulted in me vomiting on every square inch of our apartment. The words, “YAK ATTACK” have been highlighted proceeded by a long hahaha (Thanks Christopher, this one holds a special place in my heart). And finally a photo of my best friend, Alex and I (AKA Babcock). Yes, her name is Babcock. And, yes, you do have my permission, as her best friend, to continue on with laughter.
I haven’t really talked to Alex in several months. Mostly because I stopped smoking and our friendship mostly revolved around that. But she’s still my best friend and no one can replace her. I can’t count the number of times I’ve called her hysterical because of who knows what and she’s the only person who can get me to see the bright side.
I wouldn’t be the person I am today if it wasn’t for her. She held my hand as I kissed my comfort zone goodbye. And thats when my life began– when I met Alex and left my comfort zone…
I figure that I’d need that photo just in case I got lonely or forgot why I am now living in Athens.
I leave tomorrow and I’ve planned my day to go something like this:
6 a.m. WAKE UP
6:15 a.m. Walk to Marie’s Donuts and buy a dozen donuts
6:30 a.m. Share a cup of coffee with dad (the most delicious cup of coffee ever! He says the secret ingredient is LOVVVEEEEEEE)
6:45 a.m. Eat dozen of Marie’s (you’d understand if you knew Marie)
7:30 a.m. Proceed into food comma
8:00 a.m. Try to overcome food comma by taking Sadie and Sammi to the dog park
9:00 a.m. Finish packing
10:15 a.m. Leave for the airport
10:45 a.m. Check in for flight and check bag
1:45 p.m. Take-off
p.s. On Sunday my dad convinced me to go to confession after 5 years. He did this by telling me, “You know, just in case.” “Incase of what?” “In case your plane is attacked by a terrorist and you die. You don’t want to go to hell. Eternity is a long time.” Needless to say, I was ROFL.
Nomads Land 