Up, up and away!!!!

The alarm blares and I get up instantly, because this is one day that allowed not a mere mention of the word lollygag. I get up and take a shower. As the water hits the top of my head, down my face, shoulders, back and down my legs, I’m trying to gather a list of things to pack, but that doesn’t help because the hot water is so relaxing at four thirty something in the morning. I mean, I could plug the tub and run a bubble bath right now and have a Calgon moment. No! I can’t! I need to focus on the big picture. So with great loathing, I force myself out of the shower, put my pajamas back on and begin to pack.

Shane, the night before, thought it would be realistic to share one medium size luggage. Does this boy not realize, that we’re getting married? I have to stuff that luggage with useful items like nine pairs of heels, fifteen miniskirts, eight dresses, one pair of jeans, two pairs of slacks, ten to fifteen tanktop and t-shirts, perfume, makeup, lotions…I know that’s just like a third of what I need, but a girl shall always have her way. This was no time for jokes, but he was not joking. He thought it would be absurd, because each time we’ve traveled, we always shared a luggage. Well not today sister! We’re going away for almost three weeks, go stuff a turkey boy!

I don’t know, if it’s all girls or just me, but…with precision I end up wearing a tenth of my wardrobe that I brought on a trip. It just relieves me to know that if we decide to go to a disco that I have a classy ball gown to fall back on. Okay I’m rambling…

So the boys eventually wake up and Shane’s ready to go. Sometimes, I’d like to throw a bucket of water on him to see if he’ll short circuit. He lectures me about not packing the night before, and I advise him that I already have a father. I realize that I forgot my sage yoga bag which is a requirement when traveling. This bag is cozy at the bottom of the trunk of my car which is parked at the base of twin peaks which is an inconvenient eight minute cab ride from home. Phew.

Shane, the great love of my life that he is, with no fret instructs both Kyle and I that upon his return we should be ready to go.

As I’m packing, I accidentally, key word accident, step on my earrings that I’m supposed to wear for the wedding. The sound “crack” crisp like a cracker instantly cringe my lower back. In my mindless scrambling, I already know what I had just done. What the hell was I going to do now? It took me forever to find these earrings, they were made in Morroco and worth no more than a whole five dollars? These earrings were kick’en! I dropped everything and called Jill via cell, since she was witness to this purchase. She could get another one. Jill punctually answered her phone at a few minutes before seven am and ensured me that it would absolutely be no problem. I was relieved, until Shane entered the front door yelling at me to, “hurry the f@ck up!” Kyle, bless his little kind heart, assisted me in zipping this titanic of a suitcase.

Than off we were being whisked in a taxi to the San Francisco Airport with not a shudder of reluctance.