I'm down to my least favorite part of getting ready for the trip:
Packing.
It's heinous. I know some people can look at their clothes and think shirt, shorts, underwear, bra, done!
But what if I want to wear a skirt? And I need both bathing suits. And I need two different nightgowns, in case there's not a washer and dryer. And then there's the whole extra pair of shorts to make up for the skirt in case I don't want to wear the skirt thing. And then there's this whole wave of tank tops under shirts, because I've got a rack, and I need a bra and a tank and a shirt, and, well, that's and extra shirt!
And don't even get me on about coordinating. Or the burning need to deconstruct my room for the pants I bought and haven't worn once but I know are somewhere in my room because they're the perfect length and color to match absolutely everything.
In short?
I'm a mess.
And it doesn't get better the longer I wait to pack. Or even the earlier I pack. It just is.
It doesn't help that Steve thought she'd help me fold clothes, either. Of course, Steve seems to think I need help doing a lot of things, and I do wish she'd figure out that if she'd stop swishing her tail between my ass and the toilet, I'D STOP SITTING ON IT. Just saying... there's a certain momentum to these things, and that cat likes to live dangerously.
Anyway, in addition to the cat, trying to get her tail squashed flat, there's also basic weirdness-- the same weirdness, but, you know, it's ours. We love it. And as we get ready to leave (Sunday morning, ass-crack of dawn!) I'll share with you some weirdness.
Me, to Mate, upon discovering the wonder that is dried, seasoned snap peas. "Here, what do you think?"
Mate: They're okay.
Me: OKAY? Are you kidding? They were wonderful! Chicken and I saw God, we heard angels, there were different colors and magnificent smells! They're just okay?
Mate: Yeah, they're okay.
Chicken: Really, Dad? Sucks for you-- that was my first religious experience in at least a month!
***
Big T: So, mom, what are we doing on this vacation?
Me: After we visit Mary on Oahu, we're going to Kauai.
Big T: To do what?
Me: Well, first Mate is going to make us visit every accessible beach on this little tiny island, and then when we're done with that, we're going to swim until our fingers get pruny.
Big T: Well, can I have my own adventures?
Me: Doing what?
Big T: Walking around the island.
Me: Knock yourself out. Did I mention it's really teeny?
Big T: Yeah. It'll be an adventure!
Me: I'll be in the pool.
***
Zoomboy: Want to hear my new joke? I got it from Disney!
Me: Knock yourself out. (This is becoming a theme!)
Zoomboy: What did the screaming monkey say when the two scarlet parakeets wouldn't stop fighting?
Me: (Seeing it coming!) What?
Zoomboy: "I don't see what the fuss is about--these Angry Birds aren't fun at all!"
Me: Got that from Ant Farm, right?
Zoomboy: I changed the details.
Me: Not bad!
***
And this next thing is more of a ponder than a thing. See, someone wrote me a letter (e-mail) asking if she could give some books away for a contest to get audience up on her blog. That wasn't a problem, and then she brought up that she'd reviewed my books several times-- she'd seen on my website that I had posted my reviews, and she wondered why hers weren't up there-- she was hurt.
And I felt like a dick! Now, some of you may remember, that when I first started getting online reviews, that I did a whole lot of happy dances. For those of you who have been around forever, you know that I'd been stinging with all the nasty shit people said about Vulnerable and the editing, and it was lovely to see other people saying nice things about my work. And I WAS happy about those-- I am STILL happy about them.
But after I got a certain number, doing the happy dance started to feel like hubris. Too much pride. Arrogance. That thing that's going to bring a good happy hero DOWN.
So I kept my happy dances to myself, in my kitchen, invented the Wallace/McSpazzmatron and did THAT when I got a good review.
And I thought that I was being grounded. I had not counted on this thing called synergy-- wherein, when someone gives me a nice review, and I brag about it, people traffic to their blogs, and they feel like their hard work has been appreciated. And then I felt bad! People had taken the time to say nice things about the work, and I wasn't giving them their due!
So, in an attempt to strike a balance, I'm gong to have Mate update the site (probably next week... little busy here!) and put the blogs that HAVE reviewed me up on the review page. That way, they should get some traffic for my website, and I can keep my own douche-bag-o-meter from going off ad infinitum. What do you think? Will that work? I'll let you know when it's updated, 'kay?
And in the meantime? This little clothes-packer, cat-sitter, dinner-maker and all around mom, must needs go to bed!
Think about taking things that you won't mind leaving there. Ratty old underwear. The oldest tank top you own. You will buy clothes hen you get there. You know you will. Those loud tropical prints will shanghai your eyes.
ReplyDeleteI like Roxie's suggestion - take old stuff I can leave beyond. It requires the hardship of shopping :-)
ReplyDeleteMy cats firmly believe they haven't done their job if my suitcase isn't full of cat hair to go. Steve obviously shares that view.
Have a wonderful, relaxing trip.
um, you definitely can't walk around the island. it's not teeny like kaho'olawe. which is a bomb-blasted desert.
ReplyDeletealso, since you're heading to kauai, take stuff you are willing to toss away if you go hiking. the red clay dirt is insidious and you'll never get the stains out. take ziploc bags to put wet clothes in. ::nods::
visit the valley of the temples damn it! go the buddhist temple at the top of the valley!
Sitting on a beach with my toes in the sand and swimming sounds like the perfect vacation to me. I'll have to settle for a cedar lake not to far from home but a girl can dream.
ReplyDeleteHave a fun relaxing time.
Packing is evil. Because you never know what you need.
ReplyDeleteEnjoy the trip!