We all have reputations. Like the rest of you, there are statements, attitudes, and descriptions I’m used to being on the receiving end of, by now. Commentary I get on a regular basis, reflecting other people’s assumptions of who I am/what I represent:
“You work too much.
There’s hardly anything you say behind people’s backs that you haven’t already said to their faces.
Listen, you CANNOT ever write about what I’m telling you. I guarantee you’re already thinking about it.
I can’t believe you watch Real Housewives.
Looks like you’ve been drinking….”
Almost everyone, male or female, who has ever traveled with me or lifted my luggage has exclaimed some equivalent of: “Damn girl, you pack light.”
Now that one is all true, all inoffensive, all badge of honor. Let’s call me the Anti-Diva. I can easily do two weeks away from home with nothing more than a small suitcase, a roomy over-the-shoulder carry-on number, and a modest tote bag. I won’t pack more than two pairs of shoes. I’ll wear the same cardigan and pair of jeans more than once. I’ll use that little tote I carried-on as my purse for the duration of the trip. If I see a toy that would be perfect for a youngster I’m about to spend time with, but it would take up too much space in a suitcase, I’ll say “never mind, I’ll treat him/her to something bigger and better when I get there.”
I’m over airport security. I’m over airports in general. Amtrak and coach buses too.
Post-9/11, I’ve (accidentally) taken at least three round-trip commercial flights with a box cutter in my bag and nobody stopped me; yet everything goes to hell if there’s a 4 oz. bottle of moisturizer on me. And after recently catching a 20/20 segment that confirmed my worst suspicions about how mischievous baggage handlers can get with unlocked, checked-in luggage, I will continue to err on the side of packing like a pauper.
I need to go on more car trips.