It's Good To Be Home

Drove the 6 hours back home yesterday from Kiawah Island and was unpacked with the washing machine churning within 10 minutes of walking through the front door. How do people let suitcases sit around for days? It's beyond me. 

Had a fantastic time with best friend. Very reminiscent of our college days when we would go 5 or 6 days in a row and never be out of one another's sight for more than three minutes at a stretch. On the down (but completely expected) side, I wore maybe one-third of the clothes I packed. Big floppy hat never even made it out of the backseat of my car. While unpacking, I briefly considered giving the hat away as I haven't worn it once in over 10 years, but I'm betting the next beach vacation I'll break that baby out, so it's back on its hook in my closet. 

Came home and was welcomed by the cats and by welcomed I mean completely ignored. Blair's response was warmer - he had the house cleaned and a bag of M&M's sitting on top of my desk along with a note saying he couldn't wait to see me. Lovely man.

There was some minor frustration this morning in that our internet connection has gone down and I was having trouble getting on-line even through my AT&T 3G network.

"We'll survive," said Blair. "We'll be like the pioneers."

"Oh boy!" I said, with fake enthusiasm. "Fun!"

"Yeah, I know," said Blair. "It is getting a little 'Donner party' around here." 

I asked him if, during "Meat Week," he managed to eat a vegetable. "Yes," he said. "I had potatoes." 

Yes, everything is back to normal.

Cheers,

Dena

Chronic Overpacker

Hello from Kiawah Island! I'm here visiting my best friend and it's nothing but sun, sand... and the three billion items I felt it imperative to bring with me from home for this four-day journey.

I have never been a good packer but I've never really taken the time to sit down and figure out why. There was a 30-mile stretch in South Carolina where I picked up nothing but screaming preachers and church music, so I had a little time to think about where I went errant in my packing ways. 

Here's my best guess: I overpack in the hopes I will transform into a completely different person while on vacation. Someone who casually throws on wide-brimmed floppy hats or knows how to layer bracelets and necklaces and look contemporary and whimsical and not like an aging late 80's Madonna wanna-be. With this me-only-better person in mind, I dig into the recesses of my closet and pull out clothes that haven't seen daylight since the Clinton years. I fully expect that once I see the beach, I'll be inspired by that strapless neon sundress or the clog shoes or the big wooden necklace I had to have and have never worn because for the life of me I can't figure out what it goes with.

I brought a bag of hair accessories because I apparently decided that once I saw ocean, I'd be transformed into someone who knows exactly what to do with a banana clip or a polka-dot headband or sparkly faux-diamond hairpins and that I would intuitively master the art of the french twist. 

That's the dream. The reality is I have spent my first two days here in a swimsuit, shorts, and a rainbow of tank tops with my hair thrown back in a ponytail. 

 The dream has not died however. A group of us are going into Charleston today. I have carefully laid out on my bed a sundress, a floppy hat, necklaces, and rhinestone barrettes. 

I can make it work. I know I can. 

Cheers,

Dena