In the last entry I talked about how I have three weeks until I leave—the truth is that I, in fact, had four weeks at the time I was writing. (This is not the first time that I've allowed wishful thinking to get in the way of reality and mathematics.) However, since reality and my wishful thinking have finally aligned, I can now say with full confidence that I have one week before my departure.
Naturally I have already started my packing process—mainly weeding out what I need to take and what I don’t need. Although it's slightly more complicated than that:
Going to Europe always requires more attention to style. I grew up in a grungy, medium-sized city and went to a college with few who cared about the newest trends—particularly shoes, which occasionally weren’t worn—and I’ve never had much of a grasp of fashion. It’s always a shock to me when I go abroad and discover that my favorite near-worn-out jeans and a black tank aren’t glamorous enough for going out. And no, you can’t wear flip flops. Ever. This stylistic ignorance likely stems from my dependence on my baby sister: if she isn’t with me when I shop for clothes, it’s usually a disaster.
Right now, I've thrown as much European-esque fashion as I can into my suitcases: I have skinny jeans, two pairs of knee-high boots, black flats and heels which I pretend will help me blend in. Realistically, I'm guaranteed to stick out like a sore thumb, as most Americans do when they travel. The nice thing is, since I'm going to a place that is typically colder on a sunny spring day than the last day of autumn here in the states, a certain degree of practicality is allowed (I think.......Kate?) and I might be able to get away with my boring, long-sleeved shirts and sweaters.
I haven't even gotten to the books yet...
