...And We're Back!

Hello friends!

I have arrived home from my week of business, weddings and family. Don’t lie; I know you missed me.

So that you may feel up-to-date on my life since my last post, I have put together a small hit list of the week’s highlights. Don’t say I never do anything for you.

My week by the numbers:
5000. Total miles traveled by plane to and from LA.
8. Total number of nights where I have not slept in my own bed.
2. Total personal hotel rooms.
5. Total number of cabs. (Yes! I was very green and walked.)
45,600. Official number of attendees who attended E3 Expo
16,093,044. The [slightly over exaggerated] number of static clings I applied to hotel mirrors located around the Los Angeles Convention Center.
300. The amount of deluxe hotel rooms I saw while applying said clings (and may I recommend the JW Marriott and the Ritz, should you find yourself bunking up in LA.)
53. Amount of miles I walked between Monday and Thursday…most of which were in flip flops.
5. Total pieces of bacon consumed.
1. Total number of attendees who asked me where they could kill people.
1. Total number of attendees who were escorted out after said comment.
2. Number of reality shows that I may appear in, with a blurred out face, of course.
100. Number of actors (dressed as North Korean soldiers, constantly yelling “hut”) I corralled around the Los Angeles Convention Center on Tuesday afternoon
1. Total number of people who swore at me because I wouldn’t grant them a complementary pass
45. Total minutes I spent wheeling my luggage around the Staples Center during the last minutes prior to game 7 of the NBA finals.
5. total number of hours I spent on a red eye home, complete with “Boston sucks!” chants, led by our captain and crew (thanks, jetblue!)
1. number of weddings I went to.
3. number of catering personal who questioned my ID and made my cousin feel uncomfortable, who I then had an altercation with.
23. number of Bandz I have collected. Yes, those elastic bands that snap back to a cool shape. Yes, I am wearing 3 right now.
33+. total number of alcoholic beverages I have had since Sunday night. Oh, hey Senior Week 2010.
45. Total hours of sleep I have gotten in the past 8 days.

Lyfe Strugglezzzz

My life is made of major and mini struggles, you know, in addition to my constant inward monologue and awkward pauses.

This is this week’s struggle.

Meet this small, but manageable suitcase.

I leave for sunny Los Angeles on Sunday morning. Los Angeles means airport. Airport means suitcase. Suitcase means packing. Packing means Anxiety.

I have opted to avoid reliving last year’s LA packing catastrophe, where I was that girl. Last year, I realized that I have severely over packed when I had to pull the “get on the scale and weigh yourself with your luggage to make sure your suitcase isn’t too heavy” move. I was only going for one week, there was no need to even approach the suitcase weight limit, yet somehow I managed to exceed it…on the way back.

Yes, I was that girl who had to throw out all her toiletries because I refused to pay the “my bag is too fat” fee. My bag had miraculously gained 8 pounds while in LA, yet I hadn’t purchased anything to cause such a change. I felt better knowing I wasn’t the only one who had put on a little weight, thanks a lot Pinkberry. At any rate, there were stress tears, but luckily I had gone through security without any coworkers to witness my said breakdown.

Fast forward to present day. I feel the need to pack my back to capacity, always. In order to not overpack, I need to choose a suitcase of manageable size. This means that I need to pack my entire life within the size constraints of said suitcase. I can feel the packing anxiety building already. Lyfeee Strugglleezzzz!

So, what do I do? I obviously make a complete listing of everything I need for LA, by day and outfit to ensure that I do not forget anything, but that I only pack the essentials. Did I mention I am the daughter of a packaging engineer? Did I also mention I am an extreme over packer?

At any rate, I usually start said list four days prior to departure, which would leave me starting my list, well, right now, but packing is #6 on my “Top 5 Most Important Things To Do” list, so I guess this is going to be one of those “throw and pack” scenarios that I usually get myself into. The “throw and pack” is usually a marathon of laundry, folding, shoving, and over packing, where I ultimately need to either remove clothes that I think I won’t need (which I almost always need at some point on my trip) or upgrade to a larger suitcase. Humph.

So, its just me vs. the small, but manageable suitcase.

Stay tuned for documentation of said match up. I will win.

Warning: Honesty Alert!

After a successful surprise weekend jaunt down to the Big Apple to surprise a gal pal on her 25th, I learned something very important about myself.

I am [just slightly] germaphobic.

My [dis]ability becomes very apparent when I am traveling alone, and know no one can judge me for being so.

How?

1. I cannot put my bag down on the floor of any airport and/or bus/train station. I simply cannot imagine putting my beloved bag on the floor, only for it to be infected with microscopic germs. My solution? My bag gets a seat while I wait for my train, or else I stand with it between my legs, obviously as fashionably as possible. I prefer to only leave the train station with germs I came with myself, thank you very much.
2. Public restrooms as a whole. I am not a good squatter. Things get even more interesting for me when I have a large bag that cannot hang on the little hook they provide for pocket books. Good thing I was a dancer, because those quads get a great workout.
3. I bring a pair of traveling socks. What are traveling socks, you may ask? Traveling socks go on after getting on the train, and come off before getting off said train. This way, I can take my sandals off, but avoid having my feet touch the floor (no doubt where millions of other smelly, sweaty, athlete’s foot-y feet have been.) Said socks come off before putting my shoes back on, as not to germ-if my shoes. Did I mention I get cold?
4. Oh hey, college brah dipping while sitting next to me on the train. Can you, like, stop?
5. There is a brief moment, once I relax and settle into my seat and plug in my iPod, that I ponder whether I am infecting myself with lice as I perch my head on the window on the train. Ew.

I give myself credit for knowing that this behavior is abnormal, and exposing it anyway.

I revert back to my favorite prayer which states: “Lord, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”

I know this is one of those situations that I am most likely unable to change, or else I most definitely don’t have the courage to change it…yet.

Who says this blog isn't reflective and therapeutic?