Bags of Fun

Three weeks and counting...flat still not rented, but has been shown at least. Why does no one want to live in my house? I think it is quite nice, really. 

Spent a lovely London  Sunday afternoon in Covent Garden at the cluster of outdoor shops--after about an hour of transport snafus, natch. Christ, I am not going to miss Transport for London. 

David bought yet another new rucksack in the ongoing battle to fit all our crap...but got home and decided he doesn't like this one after all. This being Rucksack Number Four, I am losing patience with his whims. We're now back to the big black one (above right) he got in late 1997 to go to Central America for the two months that I was stuck in Washington in February...stupid university education. But it at least seems like it should work (barring any stylistic concerns which may arise...he has a minor case of buckle-and-strap envy as my new bag is much cooler.) Sadly over-shopping has resulted in my own realization that Karrimor now makes a hot pink bag! I am gutted that mine is only stupid turquoise (above left), and I really really want the pink one. Even though it is 10 litres smaller. Reason can't be expected to prevail over pink, I think anyone would agree.

We are now a little in love with eBags packing cubes--the ghetto version of the Eagle Creek ones. Why has no one invented these things before? If I have to live out of a bookbag for nine months, at least my bras can stay separated from my antibiotics, and in a suitably colour-coordinated manner.

Actually think I can get everything in now, having practiced a bit, but walking? Awkward. Something's not right there. 

London Calling

With my brother-and-girlfriend here last week, we decided to play tourists a little ourselves. Living the cliche--although we have seen a good bit of Britain in the last 5 years, I don't actually have many pictures from London itself.  Spent a typically sunny Sunday walking from Westminster and Buckingham along the Thames, down to the Tower.  Oh, right, it pissed down rain all day, but you know, it's home. Had some beer and a huge Sunday roast lunch.

On Friday we had tea at Kensington Palace's Orangery, and saw the palace, and...had some beer and a huge Brick Lane curry.  

Packed the incredible shrinking backpack today just to remind myself how completely unrealistic my intended packing list is. Wearing hiking boots and carrying a bag that weighs roughly the same as a small car, I feel rather like I'm in someone else's life.  Have got four weeks from today to adjust to actually living Adventurous Monica's life. No doubt it will be much more glamorous and interesting and possibly smelly than Responsible Monica's!

The Final Countdown Sort Of

Today being Friday the 13th, we're officially less than a month away from Leaving Day. The To-Do List remains daunting, and we still have to rent the flat out, but we're actualy pretty well in hand. David is sorting out the financial aspects (banking, access to money, mortgage payments, ugh). I'm trying to check off the more practical things, like deciding how many allergy pills one might need in Laos in August. 

This weekend's project is to create a detailed inventory of the flat's contents. Am tempted to throw things away rather than list them. Maybe I'm becoming an anti-consumerist hippie already! Or I'm just pretty lazy. 

And although it's a good while away, I've been thinking about where in my own country I'd like to go...having not lived there in more than 5 years, I think we're probably going to feel a bit touristy ourselves. I last drove across the country with my parents and grandparents circa 1982 for Uncle John's wedding in Tahoe. My main memory is of my grandfather telling me to pee quickly because the desert loos were built on quicksand--he was not a man with patience for small girls wanting to pee more than once a day. 

David is planning on Cleveland for a game, though Cleveland in December is not high on my own list. Definitely LA, maybe Vegas and New Orleans. I'm thinking Utah; when else will we get to see Salt Lake City? And no, the irony of a trip that includes both Georgia and Georgia is not lost on me.  

New Toys

We're still a little more than a month from launch, but have apparently already overspent our "equipment" budget. Whatever. We have lots of new toys, so I'm okay with that.  

Among other things, we've got Therm-a-rest self-inflating air mattresses (pink! at least for me), lovely down sleeping bags that are like big blue duvets, and the aforementioned convertible trousers (we've both got them now, though mine are cooler because they cost more).  Also a flashlight that really does look fetching strapped to David's head, a possibly illegal quantity of broad-spectrum antibiotics, and a lovely new little netbook. It even lets us send and receive phone calls--you can leave us voicemail if we're busy catching the local buzkashi game in Uzbekistan.

My parents (who clearly know me well) bought me a Sony Reader for Christmas. This is possibly the most amazing thing ever for a girl who had to be forcibly prevented from reading, for example, cereal boxes, lest I forgot to eat. I can carry 160+ books with me in a little thing the size of a novel. Easily 9 months of reading. Even for me. It's so well designed that I occasionally forget it's not paper and try to turn the pages. Fantastic.

Younger brother is on his way from Heathrow at the moment, bringing much desired Eagle Creek Pack-it cubes--supposedly great for organizing a 9-month backpack. And Almay Non-Oily Eye Makeup Remover, because even people with strap-on flashlights need some luxuries.

The Liquor Project

Ongoing mission amidst the havoc of preparation: empty the alcohol. Wouldn't want to waste it, obviously, so David is applying himself to the task of using it up. This has resulted in some...noteworthy...creations.

Current front runner, the Leprechaun. Granted, a somewhat obscure thing, but it's tonic and whiskey with a bit of lime juice. Surprisingly not as alarming as it sounds.

We still have about three full bottles of vodka--which I haven't been able to deal with since an unfortunate first encounter with the sort of punch frat boys make in trash bags for girls (while they hoard the quality Natty Lite for their manly selves), circa September 1994.

Doing better is the Southern Comfort. My grandmother--she of the iron liver--would be proud.

Anyhow. Too much to do, must go have a drink.