When I pulled up to the curb of my first college dorm, the girl helping me move my stuff inside remarked, “Is that all you have?” I was proud that my ability to prioritize my belongings meant that my parents and I had to take limited trips up and down the stairs with armloads of stuff, but somehow I had gotten confused while packing and thought that I was going away to camp, not moving into college. I quickly came to the realization, however, that I was not, in fact, packing for a summer at camp, but an entire school year. I had exactly the right amount of clothes, exactly the right jackets, and exactly the correct amount of underwear, but my drawers looked like the inside of my camp trunk (minus all the green shorts). They were extremely sparse and extremely limiting.
When I went home for Thanksgiving break I had a great deal more clothes with me than I had initially arrived with. I’m still not one of those girls who must bring her entire life with her to college, but I do a better job at having a wide variety of clothing to choose from while being prepared for anything.
Now, though, my camp-packing skills are making a comeback. Everything I could want or need while in Ireland has to fit in this bag:
Wasn’t this suitcase bigger the last time I saw it? I could have sworn it was bigger.
Amy, my sister, said that I would probably bring fewer clothes for an entire semester than she did for a two week cruise, which is probably true. Granted, I will have the use of a washing machine and dryer in my apartment, but the mere fact that I had to go through everything I own and decide what is worthy enough to schlep with me across the pond was not appealing. So instead of taking the “I know I already have three sweaters, but what if I want my eyes to look particularly blue?” mindset that would have been fine for Burlington, I’m using the camp approach.
Also, I had a revelation while deciding what I wanted to wear over and over again for four months. Does something look weird about this?
By the time I got to the socks I just sprinkled them on top in a nice thin layer like cake decorations. I needed all the space I could get.
All of these meticulous preparations are necessary because the big day is tomorrow! I fly out on Monday from Logan, make a quick stop in Philly, and by Tuesday at about 3:30 am Boston time, I'll be in Dublin. I'm hoping my flight will go fine this time (to read my airport horror story, go here:
http://libranlogic.blogspot.com/2010/02/stuck-in-purgatory.html). Wish me luck! 
As long as your flight is better than mine was, you'll be grand! Dublin Airport shut down while we were in the air, 30 minutes away. After circling the island for almost an hour, we landed in Shannon and proceeded to wait on the tarmac for 4 1/2 hours (the Irish, not accustomed to snow, didn't understand that snow in Dublin doesn't mean it has to be snowing in Shannon, and were quite cranky). Then our flight was scrubbed and we were rushed through customs, only to wait for buses to take us across the island. Would have been lovely, except that the fog was too thick to see through. We were more than halfway across the island when Dublin Airport reopened; it was really too bad that the city buses didn't start running, too. 14 hours after landing on Irish soil, I eventually made it to my hostel. They seriously don't know how to handle snow (they only god a feckin' inch and a half, for crissake).
ReplyDeleteThat being said, I'm sure your flight will be fine. Try to get some sleep on the plane--you're gonna need it!
xx