“A true friend is someone who thinks that you are a good egg even though he knows you are slightly cracked.” – Bernard Meltzer
Talking out my frustrations with Hennessy yesterday, she asked an interesting question. “If you both knew that you’d have to go separately, would you have chosen a different school?” And I responded without even thinking, “I don’t know if J. would have chosen differently, but I’d have still encouraged him to go to London. It’s too good an opportunity.”
And remembering that, all was well again. I’m thrilled for him, I’m thrilled that I get to go with him eventually, and I’m lucky I get to keep working for a while. We’ll start payments on student loans that much earlier, I’ve got a place to live, I’ve got friends here, he’s got friends there, and we’ll both be busy. Not too bad, huh?
“What had she been thinking of? She just wasn’t the kind of person who lost it. Other people did, and good luck to them. But not Lisa- like it or not she was a survivor. Not that she didn’t feel raw and lonely and wretched, she did. But nervous breakdowns were like colored contacts-fine for other people, but they weren’t really her.“ – Marian Keyes, Sushi for Beginners
Ah, Rage. We were all wondering when you'd show up.
And…whomp!
Coming as unexpectedly and I expected, as unpredictably as I predicted, a sudden, intense burst of anger and disappointment. A vivid desire that I was not so self-contained so that I could throw myself on the floor and wail. A distinct and palpable sense of cosmic betrayal.
I was supposed to move to London in two months, and now I’m probably not moving there until February, and J. is going to be on his own, we’ll have to meet up halfway in Virginia for Christmas, six months without my best friend, etc. etc. etc. Angst, angst, angst.
If J. and I together had decided from the beginning that I would stay behind and catch up later using a visitor’s visa, or even just extended trips, that would have been one thing, but for the past several months we’ve been operating under the scheme of going to London together. It’s one thing to make travel plans, and entirely another to have travel plans “thrust upon ’em.” I’ve also been planning on leaving me job in mid-September and have been preparing accordingly… which is just too darn bad because I most likely won’t be going until February instead.
Which is not to say that there isn’t a plan. Of course there is (don’t you know me at all?). It’s just that I had this other plan and it’s be been throw completely off course and Small Dogs do not deal well with such things. I’m ferociously disappointed about not getting to go to London as planned, and I’m less than thrilled at the thought of being stuck here for an additional 6 months while J. is stuck equally alone across the ocean.
The separation will hardly be fun, but it’s entirely doable. The real underlying frustration for me was the sense that going to London for grad school was the Next Great Step in Life…and now I’ve stagnated again. I’ve felt thus ever since graduating and waiting for J. to finish his undergraduate as well. I was ready to move forward onto the next phase…and now I feel that I’m going to be (even if just temporarily) left behind. And it makes almost unbearably sad.
Pictured: a sensible aunty sort of freak out. You can't tell but all of her family has just died of smallpox and she had to sell the farm. Composure, kittens, that's the key.
Truth? I’m going through the most sensible freak out of my life right now, which is hardly as satisfying as a good old fashioned tantrum…but I must face it. I’m one of life’s Make It Work types. As gratifying as it would be to take to my bed and demand my smelling salts, I’m just not that girl. So I’m pressing on with the moving advice, tips, posts, and general attitude. After all, it’s only been delayed.
However, in all fairness, it’s been rainy and muggy all day so my attitude may be entirely a byproduct of the weather.
“I’ll just have to rise to the occasion and do something spectacular again. Spectaculars always take so much out of me.” – The Slipper and the Rose
Let's all follow Mr. Adam's advice here, eh?
And now, piglets, we come to the most dangerous and destructive incidents in preparing for a move: when things go wrong, or at least ridiculously awry. Because they will, and you need to be able to turn on a dime. Airlines, families, governments, private crises, and various other instances and entities can and will throw your plans off rail and the savvy traveler knows how to land on his or her feet.
For example, Parliament enacted a policy yesterday that changes how and when dependent spouses of students can accompany them to the UK. And, surprise surprise, we’re affected. So was our holiday as it was spent forming a new stratagem to get back into a country that the US was currently celebrating it’s freedom from (the irony was not lost on us).
It’s not too tragic, my loves, never fear, but enough for us to largely scrap our plans and start over again in things like housing, travel, and other arrangements. You may imagine how much this thrills a control freak like me. My actual response was something along the lines of “Expletive expletive expletivey expletiving expletive!” but after a few minutes of intense angst and a couple hours agonizing to a lesser degree and research, J. and I solved it. We’ve worked out several plans contingent upon these changes and are feeling, if not chipper about them, rather proud of turning about so quickly with panache.
You rang, m'lord?
Sidenote: world leaders, dictators, movers, shakers, celebrities and Very Important Persons, do any of you need a personal assistant? One who can face nuclear disasters, ambassadors vanishing into the ether, botched public appearances, wardrobe malfunctions, catastrophic paperwork misfilings, and seemingly crushing misfortunes with a quick comeback and immediate, impressive action? Call me. I’m your girl.
In any event, my point is thus. When planning a move, vacation, road trip, military expedition, weekend in Paris, or minor invasion, expect that something, somewhere will go wrong. It’s the rule, the gods of travel have decreed it thus. And more importantly, don’t panic.
If your plane is delayed, rerouted, or vanishes into the Bermuda Triangle, you can reschedule, sightsee, and make a good impression on the Higher Beings from the New Dimension as you settle into your new life. If you are struck down by broken bones or falling crockery, you can get yourself patched up. And if the British government changes their visa policies, you regroup, thank your lucky stars you didn’t book that weekend in Edinburgh already, and decide to go to the country as a visitor instead. It’s a separate immigration headache, but it’s highly doable.
As Mum reminded me (in the sensible, crisp tone that she uses to pull me back from the ledge of entirely unwarranted freak outs) there is very little that constitutes a crisis. J. not getting into grad school last minute, me losing my job, our passports getting stolen, our car breaking down irrevocably, and one of us coming down with a disease previous unknown to science is a crisis. Having to fly back and forth to the US every handful of months is merely very, very inconvenient.
Perspective, kittens. When things go wrong it often takes little more than the ability to 1) not whine and 2) get to work setting up a Plan B to set things right. Because you are all do-ers, aren’t you? That’s right!
Be sure to have an outfit for the major occasions of life: 1) a wedding, 2) a funeral, 3) a job interview, 4) a public appearance/event. They come up rarely but not necessarily when you have the time, funds, inclination or access to a great store to find something fab and fast.
– Caitlin Kelly, the broad behind the excellent blog Broadside, journalist, and author of the recently published Malled: My Unintentional Career in Retail which is sitting patiently in my Amazon.com shopping cart until my next paycheck
“Wait. So yoga pants and old college t-shirts aren’t tres chic? I am in so much trouble.” – Tori, of The Ramblings (check her out!)
Très chic? Perhaps not. Très nécessaire? Bien sûr!
This was a point of discussion so let me just reassure you, my fuzzy little ducklings. Comfort clothes, workout gear (IF you are already in the habit) and loungewear are important, but I maintain that they must bow down to C.’s Laws of Travel and serve multiple functions. Yoga pants can be napped in, worn to run errands, thrown on of a Saturday morning to do the laundry run, and even exercised in (who knew?).
The same goes for college sweatshirts. I’ve two, one is old, worn, pilled, and stained. The other is none of the above – which one do you think I’m taking? I do not ascribe to that medieval notion that all sweatshirts should be banned from polite society, there are plenty of places it’s appropriate (weekends, casual dinners at the pub with friends, on the aforementioned laundry day when you’re in desperate sartorial straights, etc.).
The underlying rule though, possums, is that in order for your loungewear to deserve space in your suitcase, it must be of good quality and in good condition. It’s very hard for something to serve multiple functions if it’s in a sorry state. Those ripped trackies may have been with you for years, but their day is ended. Store them for the memories if you must (though I advise against it), but don’t pack them, items need to be kept in good repair for you to look your best. And when you’re living abroad with limited funds and limited packing space, taking things that make you look a wreck is just silly; and you’re not silly, are you, pumpkins?
If your gear is all twenty years old, covered in soup stains, shredding at the hems, and generally looks as though it’s survived the zombie apocalypse, don’t despair! It’s possible to get new things for relatively cheap at Old Navy, Gap, and any number of specialty stores. Comfort, the ability to look (relatively, in my case) put together while working out, and casual clothes for the days when you really, really can’t care are worth it.
Look for the woman in the dress. If there is no woman, there is no dress. – Coco Chanel
Let’s face it: you, and yes I am looking directly at you with a smirk of approval, are fabulous. And if you were going to live abroad, “abroad,” or even just pop over to a city for a week or two, you would invariably have cause to dress up. Maybe the ambassador would need to invite you to a lavish supper because the country had no other citizens of your nationality to ask, maybe you do something heroic and save an entire city from destruction and have to sit for a parade in your honor, anything could happen, kittens, and like the Boy Scouts you should Be Prepared.
Admittedly in this scenario you are a lot more impressive than I, the best I am hoping for is the wedding of a friend, a Christmas party, or a night out on the town, but the principle is the same. If you’re going anywhere for several months, you are going to need a pretty frock that looks really good, travels well, and doesn’t break the bank.
Remember our cardinal rule: everything you pack must be able to pull double duty. I love a glam sequined dress as much as the next girl but consider, gorgeous as such an item is, you probably cannot wear it to a tasteful country wedding (unless you’re Scarlett). Choose something you could wear to both Christmas mass and a Christmas work party, a New Years Eve bash, a cocktail party, a night out, and – in my case – any graduation festivities that may arise.
As always, stick with your own tastes and don’t try on a new persona at the last minute. Knits are easier to travel with, but might not look as polished unless you really hunt for them, so put in the time to find a good dress you really love. If you’re really flush, I recommend both a Little Black Dress as well as another frock in color. Don’t forget that you can pop down to Camden Market or Portobello Road (or your travel destination’s equivalent) to find a fascinator for a wedding, thrown on a necklace and earrings to glam up for an evening out, and experiment with hair, makeup, and nail colors to change your look. With only two dresses, you may have a closet full of different different looks!
Have at least one pair of really nice dress shoes that you can wear with any formal frock, black is a good standby. It will save suitcase room and won’t let you down.
“Women usually love what they buy, yet hate two-thirds of what is in their closets.”
~Mignon McLaughlin, The Neurotic’s Notebook
Some of you may still be a bit battered by our last exercise, but grudging health commitments have taught me that the only cure for soreness is the hair of the dog and so back into the fray! This time we’re tackling your wardrobe, what are the chances we’ll find Narnia?
Moving is always an excellent excuse to go through your closet because there is generally quite a bit of stuff in it that you don’t wear, doesn’t fit, no longer reflects your style or taste, has started to wear out, or that you are ready to let go of. There is no better excuse for an honest examination (or in the case of some, an archeological expedition) of one’s closet than the knowledge that if you are keeping something you will have to find room for it in two suitcases. And if you aren’t taking it, that you will have to find a place to store it while you are out of the country or gird your loins and get rid of it.
Now I’m not one of those ogresses that demand you chuck everything dear to you (am I, ducklings?), I know that in every closet their lurks some treasures that it simply wouldn’t be feasible to transport but you can’t get rid of. All I’m saying is that you should be honest about what constitutes real treasure. A couple of contrasting examples:
Freshman year some friends of mine had t-shirts made for our group. I’ve carefully preserved that shirt for the memories but haven’t worn it once in nearly 6 years. When I pulled it out of my closet, I grinned a bit remembering some of the scrapes we got into, thought of friends I haven’t seen in a while, and generally reminisced about the four years I spent at university. And then I put it in the donate pile. Hanging onto a shirt that only takes up room in storage when I already don’t wear it doesn’t make a lot of sense. And of course I realized that I don’t necessarily need a shirt to remember people and good times anymore.
Alternatively, in my closet also resides my wedding dress. It too represents memories but the difference between it and a t-shirt (besides price) is not lost on me. If I have a daughter she may want to wear it for her own wedding, or perhaps my sister would like to borrow it for her nuptials – giving my parents a sigh of relief and Snickers more coin to drop on the party itself. Or perhaps someday I’ll donate it to another good cause. But until then, I’m much less willing to part with it rather than an old, never worn t-shirt.
I WISH. Mine is nothing so organized.
And in between these two extremes is most of what I own. I have pretty dresses and skirts that I spent good money on, are in excellent shape, and that I quite like, that won’t be necessary to me overseas. I have tops that I haven’t worn for a long time and won’t miss. I have any number of shoes, including a few pairs from Italy and Paris that I love but won’t stand up to cobbled streets or inclimate weather.
And so, armed with a ruthless will and clear vision of what I intend to hold precious, I fling open the doors and survey everything I own and start asking the practical and philosophical questions about individual items:
Is it in good shape? Are hems fraying, seams ripping, or is it generally falling apart? Is the answer is yes, donate or chuck it.
If it isn’t in good shape, can you get it back into working order? If all that’s wrong with a perfectly good jacket or cardigan is a missing button, it’s beyond foolish to chuck it for a easily repairable flaw.
Have I worn this item in the last six months? If not, you can probably get rid of it without qualm.
Do I still like it? In every closet there resides at least one lapse in sartorial judgment, and if you don’t like it now, you won’t like it later.
Does it still fit properly? There’s no reason to hang on to something that doesn’t.
Will I wear it (which is an entirely different question than “Have I worn it?” I wear lots of things here in the States during summer that might not be so practical for a Fall/Winter school year in Europe)?
If I leave it behind, will I wear it when I get back or will it be too dated, out of style, or no longer practical for my situation in life?
Do I have multiple items that serve the same functions? If so, which one would be more practical to take and would give me the most and best wear?
Any clothing that doesn’t pass muster gets tossed into bin liners to be donated, offered to friends, given to Snickers, or is set aside to be stored. What’s does is what’s coming with you. The next step is make sure you have the necessary items to make it through a calendar year abroad, and we’ll start exploring that in future posts.
So, sound off! What categories of things does an enterprising globe hopper need for a jaunt abroad?
“The hard must become habit. The habit must become easy. The easy must become beautiful.”
~ Doug Henning
Today’s lecture is on habits, particularly those for physical health. Habits are hard work, making as well as breaking. And if you want to have some good ones while abroad, frankly you’ve got to get cracking on them long before you ever step foot in an airport.
I am not one of those people who naturally likes working out (those endorphins I’m promised? Lies. Never have they once materialized!) and so it’s something I do largely because I know I should, not because I particularly enjoy it. But it’s a habit now and I work hard at keeping it one. First of all, it is much easier to maintain your health, weight, workout schedule, and strength if you’ve already got it stabilized long before you move. Secondly, living abroad can be more physically demanding: no cars, all walking, lots of carrying, etc. It’s much better to already be in shape when you arrive than to spend a miserable few weeks huffing and puffing up and down stairs because you have to buy groceries more frequently (thanks to those tiny ice boxes).
The summer I did a study abroad there was an absurdly large number of girls who packed work out gear, clothes, and shoes that never once saw the light of day. I couldn’t have cared less about whether or not they went running, but as a traveler, I shook my head over the wasted space in their luggage and the silliness of their assumption that even though they weren’t in the habit of working our regularly at home, they would magically acquire it in a foreign country. Learn from their fail.
“A journey is best measured in friends, rather than miles.” – Tim Cahill
Photo basely stolen from her blog.
Let me refer you an ever fab and ferociously funny cyber-mate of mine, geekgirl and her ongoing series of travel tips (read here for thoughts on shoes, souvenirs, luggage, and the drama of being a runner in a strange land). She will probably offer more tips and tricks for travel so keep checking her out.
which is sitting patiently in my Amazon.com shopping cart until my next paycheck
Small Dog Syndrome 