So tonight, we pack!
I've got a long list of stuff for Jordan, and lists of in-case meds and sunscreen and sun hats and chargers for this and that. But what I haven't figured out, because it stresses me out, is what to bring for me.
We are going for a wedding - a late-afternoon early evening outdoor wedding, I might add - and what do you wear to look nice when it is going to be cold and you have to walk on the grass?
I do not know.
What I do know is that we are going away for fun for five whole days, something Nick and I have not done since our honeymoon. This alone is very exciting.
I expect Martha's Vineyard will be more relaxing than Turkey, even with the kid. Also, I have no idea why I thought Turkey would be a relaxing honeymoon spot. It was a compromise and I'm still kind of bummed we didn't go to Thailand. I told you it was going to be the last time we went anywhere big.
At this point I would say odds of us getting killed by terrorists are higher than those of us going anywhere particularly interesting ever again.
You know, I've never made a whole lot of money, and my income level increased greatly when I married Nick, but my disposable income went all to hell. However, it must be mentioned that I gained security and a family and a gigantor house that will one day be a shining jewel. I value all of these highly.
But I used to go to Paris and London for long weekends to visit friends or my boyfriend, who traveled a lot. I really did. I used to go on road trips and out for cocktails and meals all the time. I used to DO stuff outside of town and outside the house.
Granted, I was all kinds of wrapped up in the notion that I would die alone. Which, you know, sucked and detracted.
But looking back, I actually had a really good life, a fact I couldn't quite appreciate at the time.
I know this sounds like I'd trade it right now, which I wouldn't, not for anything. I believe that Nick is my person, and on top of that we're doing really well and not fighting despite ongoing stresses like construction and Jordan is just delicious. Exhausting but delicious.
But you know, first thing this morning my acupuncturist was talking about The Paris Wife - the story of Ernest Hemingway's first wife, who left her American spinsterhood (at the ripe old age of 28) and ran off to Paris with him. Hemingway was so full of passion and energy and adventure...and sometimes when I think about things like that I get all tailspinny and what the fuck am I actually doing with my life?
And then I'm all, stop being an asshole, you have a very nice life and you love and are loved and have a wonderful place to live and you haven't been hit by a tornado and Paris in the 20s isn't coming back and plus, how much of a chore would life with Hemingway have been? Just shut up.
Shutting up now. Back to the packing list.