All right, so I'm up here in New York, sitting in a hotel room watching TV. I got up here first thing this morning -- after a wonderfully strange day of Rosh Hashanah services, a silly fun lunch, and dinner with my uncle, aunt, and 4-year-old cousin, followed by an evening of traditional post-Rosh Hashanah karaoke.
Yeah, we're weird.
So, because of the confluence of these events, my packing was somewhat haphazard -- or at least more so than usual. I knew I had to pack four days of work clothes, and pretty much just threw them into the suitcase. I left almost all of my toiletries at home because you can't bring anything on planes anymore, and besides, in Manhattan, there's a Duane Reade on almost every corner.
I also took three books, in keeping with my rule.*
I landed at LaGuardia and took a cab to the hotel. On the way, I called my Grandmother and Aunt, so that I could meet them in the city for brunch. Once I got to the hotel and checked in, I started unpacking -- mostly to minimize my ironing, but also to pick out what I was wearing to this evening's business event.
I then realized that I had forgotten to pack pyjamas. Or for that matter, anything that would suffice, since everything in my suitcase was business casual, and I was wearing jeans.
Crap.
This is not the first time that I have done this. At my last job, I once had a week of depositions in Charlotte, and when I went to unpack, I found that in my attempt to pack the perfect multipurpose pair of black shoes, I inadvertently took one each of two different pairs -- both of which were for the left foot.
As my otherwise-wonderful 93-year-old grandmother said when I told her the story, "For a smart girl, you're awfully silly sometimes."
Thanks, Grandma. Love you too.
So, after a lovely brunch, I had to run to try to find something pyjama-ish, go to the drug store to stock up on three days worth of mini-size toiletries, and get dressed in business attire for the evening.
I managed to find something. It's nothing great -- and about three sizes too big -- but it'll have to do until Wednesday.
Still, you gotta love Manhattan.
*Two books in the carry-on -- in case I finish one -- and an extra one in the suitcase, in case I lose my carry on, lose both books, or finish them both.
7 comments:
I have to respect someone who packs more books than shoes or PJs. That's pretty funny what your grandma said.
1. I heard on the news this morning that there would be an announcement at 11 that you would be allowed to take gels and liquids on board that are bought in the security zone. And some stuff, like lotions and lip glosses, will soon be okay in general. (Just trying to be informational. :-p )
2. I like how you use footnotes in your blog rather than parenthetical statements. But I'm too lazy to scroll down and find my place again. ;-)
3. Your grandma reminds me of how my sister and I used to tease our younger sister for going to Stanford (or Stanford community college as Amy calls it) and yet having no common sense. Apparently the two are in no way related. (Only teasing of course. We all know you're too sensible for your own good. ;-) )
4. Happy New Year!
Mad: My Grandma is friggin' hi-larious. Actually, both of them are pretty funny.
The funniest thing she ever said was when she said that as a baby, my dad looked like a red-headed chicken, but cute.
Debby: 1) I was able to bring my essential makeup (eyeshadow, eyeliner, lipstick, mascara). I had to get hair gel, toothpaste, and mouthwash. Oh, and pyjamas. But lucky for me, there's a Gap three blocks from my hotel -- and the pyjamas were on sale. (Of course I bought other stuff too. How could I walk into a Gap that was having a sale and not buy a new outfit?)
2) I write footnotes all day, why not in the blog, too?
3) When I was in high school, my mother used to refer to me as "snowflake," and more than once, told people that even though I was in gifted, I was "all boobs and no brains." She also used to joke that the wrong one of her daughters was the blonde. Nice, huh?
I am usually less of an airhead now, but apparently, I still have my moments. But ultimately, if I were all that sensible, why would I have so many shoes?
4) Right back at you.
Sensible and shoes are words that should NEVER EVER go together.
You would hate to travel w/me...I am the world's bets overpacker--and PS: it is mostly shoes. But I can consolidate really well, so that I have everything I need, but all in just one bag.
oops--I mean to say, Best Overpacker.
Is it time to go home yet??
Ryane: I used to be an overpacker; then I started travelling all the time and realized that I was going to have to carry my luggage.
I really only learned to pack light when airlines started to lose my luggage and I started refusing to check my baggage. Plus, that was also when I realized that -- with the exception of my glasses/contacts, prescritpion medications, and a suit -- pretty much everything can be replaced quickly, and with only a modicum of inconvenience.
A suit is harder because I'm only 5'1", and it might have to be altered in order for me to wear it.
I figured that footnotes were from your work. I can spot my lawyer-authored manuscripts a mile away. We technically don't allow footnotes in our books, but I've been letting that rule slide.
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