All carried by one girl. Me.
I hate packing. It's worse than just about anything... obgyn appointments, dishwashing for 8 hours straight, eating tuna casserole. It's bad.
That being said, packing for study abroad wasn't nearly as terrible as I thought it would be. I managed to fit everything i wanted to bring in one suitcase (which has been christened "Bertha") with room to spare. Room, however, wasn't the issue. Triumphing over the fact that i'd stuffed 90% of my material life into Bertha, I lugged her to the bathroom and set her on the scale. The result? 55 pounds. That's five (5) pounds over the airline's allowance. Defeated, I went back to my room and proceeded to unpack and repack Bertha seven times. Yes, SEVEN times. Now she weighs in at 48.7 pounds. That'll be interesting to lug around.
My carry-ons are also ungodly heavy. I will be carrying one massive backpack that probably weighs a good 20 pounds, and a huge "purse" (I do not consider anything over the size of my head to be an actual purse, sans quotes) that is brimming with necessities. These "necessities" include 2 books (one for pleasure-reading, and one on Italian Grammar), 2 computers (regular laptop and netbook), 12 months' worth of prescriptions, assorted school supplies, camera, ipod, universal adapter, wallet, and one bag of "emergency" clothes, among other things. Needless to say, I will be hurting by the time I get to the hotel. It's almost enough to make me wish i'd worked out a little this summer... but not quite.
Here's the carnage of my room during the final repacking:
|Mind you, this is nothing compared to what it looked like on my 1st attempt at packing.|
|Oh, Bertha, yah done me good.|
Now we just have to see if the evil airport minions will let me through. If anyone tries to tell me that my "purse" is too big to be considered a "personal item," I will smack them with it.
Alright, maybe i won't actually smack them with my "purse." Someone could get seriously injured, and I could get arrested. I've said it before, but I'll say it again: I am not prison material.
But I will definitely throw them a glare fierce enough to make Derek Zoolander proud. Don't mess with me, my "purse," or Bertha, and no one will get a proverbial wedgie.
PS: Next time i blog, I'll probably be doing it from somewhere that isn't my parents' couch! Exciting shit, yo.