Way back in the winter of ’10, when our heroine was feigning a post BU self-confidence that was on its way to becoming delightfully real, an idea was hatched. A 2011 trip to New Zealand that would reunite two friends previously separated by a country, now stationed on either side of an ocean. Our heroine told her family there would be no holiday visits. She resigned herself to working all year and hoarding vacation time. Now, 11 months and 3 weeks after the hatching of said idea, the time to depart has arrived. Danie is going to New Zealand.
As the year wore on, this vacation became a necessity. I
found I needed to see my friend, to stare at her fingers and to tell her to
stop biting her nails. I needed to see her big eyeballs in person and watch her
scrunch her face and say “No Danielle, that’s just wrong” for one reason or
another. And as I got closer to seeing her, I got the feeling she needed to see
me too. We needed to be friends together, in person. Feeling that – that this
was an important and indispensible life occurrence – made the whole voyage
nearly Sans-Souci. I knew nothing would go wrong.
I was meant to see Ang.
Wednesday 30 November 2011
It’s logical to think I would have been packed well before
it was time to go. Even I thought I would be. I was so sure I’d be ready before
the airport shuttle arrived; I scheduled an hour of pampering that morning. I
thought myself so clever! And that may have been my problem, thinking when I
should have been packing.
Technically I started packing Tuesday. I gathered the things
I knew I was going to bring. I organized them by category. I bundled then in
baggies. There was a “shower baggie,” a “dental baggie,” a “hair care baggie,”
an “electronics baggie,” – you get the idea. I took my baggies and lined them
up near (near, not actually in) the larger bags in which they would
go. I considered that to be an accomplishment. I’m pretty sure I gave myself a
self-satisfactory smile. It should also be noted I did not involve any clothes
that “early” in the process. I thought that would just kind of fall into place.
I assure you, I have actually traveled before. Promise.
Wednesday came. I deposited checks. I got cash. I mailed things
that needed to be mailed. I stopped at the pharmacy for a prescription that
won’t be needed until January. I went to the bank to try and buy New Zealand
Dollars. I wasted as much time the morning before I left as possible. This
occurred to me as I was chatting with Kate, less than two hours before the
scheduled pampering, with nary a baggie in a bag.
And then I got down to business. I packed my “in case my
suitcase is lost” carry on items. I pulled out what I wanted to wear and what I
might want to wear. I made an enormous mess. I took a break. It was pampering
time. As I sat awaiting my pedicure, I thought I was well on my way. Sure I had
missed my original deadline, but I was pretty close. I could still accomplish
everything in 1:45, without smudging a toe. I let the pamper-providers do their
job and I did mine. I relaxed. With brows freshly waxed and toes freshly
painted, I went back home and (daintily) got back to getting down to business.
Then, as they say, things got real.
The shuttle company called to say the shuttle would be 15
minutes early. I realized my suitcase was incapable of closing. I began pulling
pieces out at random; indifferent to whether they had been integral parts of masterfully
crafted outfits. I had to rinse the conditioner from my hair. My mom called. I kept
finding things that had to come, even
though all three bags were full. My apartment needed to be tidied. One toe was smudged. Plants
needed to be watered. Garbage had to be removed.
Accessories needed to baggied. Windows has to be cracked (in case of a slow gas leak), but not by too much (in
case of horizontal torrential rains). The shuttle driver was 15 minutes early for
being 15 minutes early. I found a baggie
that had been hidden under discarded clothes. I needed an umbrella. I had to
pray for the safety of my home. There was no way my travel blankie was going to
fit. I locked the door and didn’t dare look back. I boarded the shuttle as
if someone were chasing me. We pulled away. I realized I forgot hair clips.
Alas, I was on my way to New Zealand.
Or so I allowed myself to believe.
