The Makings of a Packing Nightmare

I’m usually pretty good at squeezing quite a bit of clothing (and assorted things: magazines, toiletries, audio devices, shaving gear, affiliated chargers, etc…) into my luggage when I travel. I know all about the quart zip lock bag and 3-oz liquids rules. I know how to roll my clothes up so they wrinkle less.

But I checked the weather for Paris last night and it’s one of those forecasts that warrants packing more than I’d hoped. The highest temperature is now predicted to be in the low 70’s…but there will be days in the low 60’s (for a high). It also indicates chance of showers every day. Now I need to consider clothes for warm days, clothes for cool nights, clothes for wet warm days, clothes for cool wet days.

It’s easy to incorporate layering when you’re going from temperature to temperature. But when you calculate moisture (rain) into the equation it changes everything. Should I bring the (non-waterproof) sneakers I’d planned as my second pair of footwear if it could rain every day? Should I bring more short white socks to wear with shorts/sneakers? Or more black socks to wear with the shoes and pants? What about the khaki pants I was considering as my second pair of jeans? I’ve got back-splat problems so those would surely get dirty with mud drippings in the back of the leg after the first hour. And will polo shirts be warm enough on a cool, damp night? Even with a jacket? And which jacket should I bring? I don’t want to lug something too heavy around on those days I’m traveling from city to city.

I’ve been fortunate in my last few trips: California is pretty consistent. Same with Mexico. For those places I brought just the pants I wore on the plane, two pairs of shorts, and a slew of t-shirts.

Two years ago when I went to Paris/London in June it was 90+ degrees and hazy, hot, and humid. Last year, Paris was comfortably sunny and 70’s (which I packed for based on the previous year), but London was in the 40’s with torrential rain the entire time (which I did NOT pack for). It was one extreme then the other…in the same trip.

Maybe I should just go to a nudist resort and be done with it.

How Much is Too Much?

I didn’t do anything yesterday except go to the gym and to the market, but it felt like a lot. that’s probably because I was so busy on Friday and Saturday.

A friend of Randy’s from his college days was visiting Providence on business so we drove down to meet up with her for dinner. We ended up meeting her at her hotel and then walking in the rain to Citron; a wine bar/restaurant. My meal was good, but Randy’s only found his adequate. The restaurant was chosem because Randy and his friend are both wine fans. Unfortunately, the wine wasn’t so great.

We started off with a sampler. However, they replaced one of the three wines on the sampler with something different (and didn’t tell us). Then, when we requested a bottle of one that we’d sampled by it’s name, we were told they didn’t have any of it and that it was actually something else. We asked for that…and they’d run out. They suggested a similar wine, but it tasted nothing like the original. Finally, the sommelier (sp?) and suggested something else. It was decent, but still not as good as the one we sampled. Oh well.

On Saturday my parents popped up to visit my aunt and uncle (which meant they dropped off the dog at our place). A few hours later they returned, then we all had a late lunch together. That evening, Randy and I attended not one, but two parties.

It’s funny, we’d not been invited to a party since the holidays and when we do, they’re both on the same night. We had a good time at both Sven’s and Mark’s party. But by Sunday, I was beat. I’m surprised I even made it to the gym. I’m glad I’m going on vacation on Thursday. Hopefully I can catch up on some sleep over those 12 days.

Why Does Our Timing Suck So Much?

Although I’ve never been anywhere near the point of propsing marriage to somebody, I expect the government to allow me right to do so. So when Massachusetts became the first state in the country to offer same-sex marriage, I was thrilled. Though, even at the time I was skeptical of the timing (it was announced at the beginning of the presidential campaign and put into right affect about now- as the final candidates are generally determined). I feared it would affect the national elections and it did. Conservatives ate it up and Bush returned to the White House and 20+ states subsequently instituted marriage bans.

Here we are exactly 4 years later approaching the next presidential election campaign. And in the same historic week that Massachusetts began handing out marriage licenses, the California Supreme Court has deemed that California’s marriage ban is unconstitutional. Within a month, same-sex weddings could start taking place in the most populated state in the country (one out of every 9 residents is from California).

This is a wonderful thing for equal rights. I couldn’t be more thrilled. However, couldn’t they have waited until November 7th to make this announcement? With timing like this, it’s only going to a) rally the religious right together, and b) have California place add an ammendment onto the same ticket as the presidential nominations in November.

I’m not a politician. And it’s rare that I get political on my blog. But I don’t understand how many times these things can get approved, over-turned, approved, over-turned. I mean, In California same-sex marriage licenes were given out in February 2004 since nothing prohibited it them. Then the state stopped them, then the people voted and rejected it, but they allowed domestic partnerships instead (similar in some ways, different legally and in name). Now the courts deemed their votes unconstitutional, yet the people again have a chance to over-rule it in the November elections.

How many times is one issues allowed to be addressed? It’s like double-jeopardy…can’t you only be tried in court once? I recall similar issues in Massachusetts where it came up for a vote (in the state house, not in the polls) multiple times. It passed, it failed, it passed, it failed. Same-sex marriage opponents are still working on ways to ban it in this state even to this day (8,000+ marriages later).

In the end, any civil rights issue shouldn’t be given to the people to vote, no? I suppose it technically shouldn’t be given to any person to decide (including judges); civil rights should simply be based on something that we all have for each other: respect. We shouldn’t have to debate the rights of one consenting adult committing to another consenting adult – not matter what age, sex, religion, nationality.

That said….the media is going to go crazy with this bit of news and I do have concerns it will affect the election next fall. Only time will tell…

I’ve Been a Dirty, Dirty Man

At least, that’s what Randy has concluded based on the dust bunnies in our home. Truth be told, we’re both equally guilty. With him being a workaholic and me being, well, lazy, we don’t seem to tend to the house-cleaning as often as we should.

I don’t think it’s filthy in the sense that bacteria is growing on every surface. In fact, our “filth” seems to be fairly well hidden. Most dust bunnies seek privacy underneath the sofa or chairs. But with spring here and our windows opening up more, the slightest breeze lures those elusive dust bunnies out into plain view.

And our tub could use a good scrubbing. Again, with the shower curtain drawn closed, nobody ever really sees that either. In essence, we’re superficially clean and relatively uncluttered. But behind the surface, look out.

Consequently, Randy wants us to hire a maid. I’m not sure what I think about that. I was raised blue-collar/old school. I was doing my own laundry by 12 years old. Meanwhile, my neighbors all had maids and it just seemed wrong. Particularly the household of my childhood best friend/next-door neighbor. With five kids and a stay-at-home Mom you’d think they’d have enough home-grown manpower to pick up after themselves and perform a few chores. I should also mention that this was just their summer home so it’s not as if they were accumulating filth 12 months of the year. This was just late May-August.

Anyway, with our home being just under 1,000 square feet (compared to my childhood neighbor’s home with 4 bedrooms, 3.5 bathrooms, tennis court, and pool) it seems wasteful and sloth-like to actually pay somebody to clean up after us.

On the other hand, it sure would be nice to not have to think about sweeping and dusting.

Descisions…decisions…

Stuck in 1984

Normally, I think it would be a great thing to be stuck in 1984. I was young, there was some great music, the U.S. was rocking the Olympics…but that same year also had some bad things: the Reagan presidency, Michael Jackson’s scalp being burned filming a Pepsi commercial, Marvin Gaye being murdered by his father.

And it also has some terrible optical fashions. Eye glasses from that year (hell, the entire decade) were horrible. Big, bulky, geeky.

Yet when I went to Pearle Vision yesterday to look into some cheap prescriptions sunglasses, I was astonished at the selection of 80’s inspired eyewear. What gives? Who still buys these things?

Mother’s Little Helper

This past weekend was Mother’s Day so I did the obligatory thing and went to the Cape to bond with her. Randy came down with me and we had a pretty good time. As a gift, we gave her some flowers to plant in the garden. Yep, for the first time in my life my parents actually have a garden going. We started it last year with a few daffodils or something. But last fall we added hostas and tulips, and now we’ve added even more flowers to fill in the space. Next year it should be pretty plush (especially if we split and spread-out the hostas in the fall again).

Who knew I had a green thumb…but I guess I really do. And his name is Randy. Yep, we have to give him full credit since he’s the one who knows which flowers return each year, which ones bloom at what time of the season, which need the most sun, which will be tallest, etc…

It’s Only a Fortnight

The countdown is on. I really do need to learn how to be more patient. Poor, Randy (I say that a lot, don’t I?). As vacations approach, I tend to get carried away with planning. I’m not so anal that every minute of every day is planned out. I just plan the big stuff (tickets, hotels). The rest I leave open so we can go as we please.

My problem is that in addition to singing songs about my destination (as mentioned previously, I’m singing “Pop Muzik'”, by M non-stop), I constantly remind Randy that the trip is coming.

“One month from today I’ll be in Paris.”
“Three weeks from today I’ll be in Paris.”

Now I can officially say I’ll be in Paris two weeks from this very minute. My flight leaves 13 days from now, but my arrival is 14 days from now…bright and early in the morning (ugh). Randy doesn’t arrive until the following morning.

In the meantime, I have to focus on other things. Like the fact that we’re heading to the Cape tomorrow to spend Mother’s Day with my mom. And we have two parties to attend next Saturday night. And I need to start thinking of how to pack as lightly as possible for a 12 day trip. And I need to get some currency converted. And my iPod and camera battery charged. And finalize a hotel for Munich.

Oh dear – I’m thinking about the trip again.

It Seemed Like a Good Excuse to Me!

Randy wanted me to go to the gym yesterday. I even packed my gym bag and brought it to work with me. However, at the gym I soon realized that the helmet for my scooter does not fit in the locker. Without a way to secure it, I went home.

I told Randy about this and he said he was disappointed in me. I’d let him down. True, I hate going to the gym. True, I’m not the most motivated person. And, true, my expanding belly isn’t the sexiest thing.

His response (I must admit, he is a logical fellow) was that I should have either a) asked the people at the front desk to hold it for me, or b) locked it to the scooter (by slipping the cable through the helmet and then through the bike rack).

Well, I tried the first option a month or so ago and the staff didn’t seem to keen on my request (though, they did it). And to be honest I never even thought of doing the latter. Never crossed my mind.

But now I know. And now I’ll have no excuse next time.

…of course, I didn’t bring my gym gear with me today.

Bringing the Romance Back

I had a doctor’s appointment in the city yesterday afternoon and Randy has been attending a seminar in the financial district the past few nights so we decided to meet up after work to roam around the city, take photographs, and have dinner.

Since I finished my appointment before his seminar got out, I sat along the Rose Kennedy Greenway. Specifically, in the North End parks. They sure look nice enough, but the benches area long Cross Street (though, facing the fountains/grass) so it’s like you’re in the middle of a highway median strip. The trucks and traffic going by directly behind you make this less than a pleasant place to rest. At least it looks pretty.

I then walked to the Hilton Hotel on Batterymarch Street and met up with Randy. We strolled throughout the financial district taking photographs of the great old buildings mixed in with the modern hi-rises. Our route was quite circuitous but we ended up in Downtown Crossing, then walked through the Boston Common and Public Garden before strolling down Newbury Street and ultimately to our final destination: Morton’s Steakhouse (which is actually one block over on Boylston).

Friends of ours had given us a gift certificate for Christmas so this was the perfect time to use it. Randy had found a coupon on-line that provided us with a huge bounty of food a total of $99: We shared the bread, then I had a Morton’s salad, scallops wrapped in bacon, filet mignon and a molten lava chocolate cake (using Godiva chocolate). Randy had a Caesar salad, jumbo shrimp, filet mignon, and opted for the same dessert as me.

We both left the restaurant bloated, yet content, and hopped on the subway back home.

It was quite a lovely evening, actually. And it was nice to be back in the city. We need to do this more often. And it’s tragic that we don’t considering how close Somerville is to Boston (they’re neighbors, for crissakes).

“New York, London, Paris, Munich, Everybody Talk About Mmmm Pop Muzik!”

It seems that whenever I’m in the process of planning a trip, a song will pop into my head associated with that trip. Before going to San Francisco, I had that hippie-era Scott McKenzie song stuck in my head, “San Francisco (Be Sure to Wear Some Flowers in Your Hair)”. Prior to going to Buenos Aires, I had the Andrew Lloyd Webber song from Evita stuck in my head “What’s New, Buenos Aires?”. We went to Las Vegas this past February….and Elvis Presley’s “Viva! Las Vegas” was running through my head.

Now we’re about 99% confirmed for our trip to Europe in, gasp, two weeks and I’ve got “Pop Muzik” by M stuck in my head. Mostly, because it’s the only song I know of that has “Munich” in the lyrics (hence the title of today’s blog post). I also realized this weekend that if this trip gets completely successfully, I’ll have visited all four cities included in the lyric.

I’m such a geek.