Packing

Tina Barney: "The Girlfriend Project"


As usual, it's Wednesday night and I'm up way way too late on a school night. My inner 8 year old whines about early bed time: "But I did housework and sewing and cooked dinner! I deserve to stay up late and play on the internets!" Of course I cave into the whining minx living in my head. I'm looking at fabric for a couple of chairs, lusting after a spring outfit, researching a project dealing with contemporary photography (which explains the Barney piece at the top and a Perez Siquier below). None of these things are pressing. I have clothes, I'm not recovering the chairs in the next week and I have project ideas coming out of my ears. What am I supposed to be doing? The last thing on today's "to-do list" was nursing research. I'm supposed to be researching anorexia and "refeeding syndrome" for my unit newsletter. Woo. Hoo. Fabric is so much more interesting than electrolyte derangement. Writing this week's blog? Riveting!

I also find myself straying to this place, saying my six more days mantra.

We will be just south of the northern most airplane symbol. And no, Wally and the Beaver aren't joining us for two reasons: School and I'm selfish. The latter being the most salient reason they are staying behind and "enjoying" two extra weeks of winter.

For a few days I will be the Whitest Woman In Mexico. The first time we met our favorite bartender--Sara--she sagely nodded her head, looking me up and down: "You just got here, didn't you." The other night we were watching House Hunters International and an English family was contemplating buying a home in the DR. The English people were whiter than I am. I live in a place which enjoys 360 days of sun; they live in a place where the sun might shine 5 days a year. Indeed, I am The Whitest Woman On The Planet. But in about a week I will look like this woman, sans the wig and white eyeshadow. Isn't she cool? I bet she had some great stories about the Franco family and Picasso. I hope she has sun screen all over her arms, those pits are going to be sore tomorrow morning! Perez Siquier: "Muneca"

We started packing on Sunday. I'm surprised the suitcases aren't closed and in the back of the car. We remind me of Kipper doing his leash dance when the word "walk" is uttered. The word "vacation" makes us giddy. You can see how giddy TG was in Texas last summer.
I'm so ready for this trip, my carry-on is packed. Years ago, my first ex-husband (yeah, I have two: call me Elizabeth Taylor) taught me to pack a change of clothes in my backpack. Brilliant. Emergency change of clothes equals shorts, tee-shirt, dainties, two pairs of shoes and a bathing suit. Because really that's all you need when you go to Mexico. Except in our case you need tongs, a cheese grater and saran wrap. Much like my obsession with taking at least six pairs of shoes no matter how long I'll be away from home; TG needs her favorite kitchen tools. I willingly pander to this quirk because she is a fabulous cook. I'm not sure why she panders to my shoe obsession. My guess is it's easier to tease me about it and work around all the damn shoes than try to talk me out of them.

Next week, if I can uncurl my fingers from around my beer, hoist my fat ass into the casita, I will blog about our first few days in Puerto Morelos. Hopefully, I'll be hearing from Molly because I won an awesome printer!

Adios Amigas y Amigos!