Par Lay Voo Fron Sace?

I am probably the worst packer ever. I can’t take anything less than 2 suitcases for a weekend getaway. Also? I hate the phrase “weekend getaway.” But back to my point. I am leaving for my European vacation, dahlings, this Friday. And so tonight I will be packing everything I need for my journey.

Itinerary – 5 days in Cinque Terre Italy, 10 days hiking the Alps in Italy, France, and Switzerland, 2 days exploring Geneva

Exciting, but still pretty simple, right? I’m one person. One very small person. There is no way I need more than like, 20 pounds worth of travel items. But I guarantee when I start to lay out my belongings, I will have to remind myself that 8 CitySports t-shirts are overkill, while I think I’m gonna need my running sneakers there’s just no way it’s happening, and that no, I don’t need to bring all those Clifbars – I’ll just buy baguettes and cheese when I’m there.

I’m deathly afraid of forgetting something crucial, though. Let’s clarify for a moment. I’m not deathly afraid; there’s a 0% chance I will die at the thought of forgetting my toothbrush. But I’m still nervous about it. I am sure that somewhere over the Atlantic I will stop watching The Bucket List on the video screen in front of me and realize my pajamas are sitting on my desk.

I was thinking that maybe I would take some fancy pants clothes with me to wear out at night when I’m in Italy. Because isn’t that what people do in Italy? They put on their Axe body spray or Chanel No. 18 and hit the town, right? The last time I went out at night in Italy, Susan and I drank flutes of limoncello and then promptly decided we would never ever be drinking limoncello again, in flutes or not. Long story short, I’m not bringing fancy pants clothes.

Just taking a general poll here, but how many Q-tips is too many to bring on a 2 week vacation? And underpants? How many is too few? Eh, as long as I bring my passport and Travel Scrabble I should be okay.

Biker Chick

Pros of riding a motorcycle 90 miles from Pembroke to Provincetown:
Feeling like you’re part of the somewhat-secret society of bikers who point to 7 o’clock with two fingers and wave when they pass you
Up close views of art galleries, antique stores, and “women”
The wind in your hair
Feeling so much cooler than those kids stuck in a minivan

Cons of riding a motorcycle 90 miles from Pembroke to Provincetown:
Helmet hair
Walking funny the next day
Speedbumps and potholes
Taking a bug to the face

Don't be mislead. I killed no cats.

This is a picture of a smore made with vegan marshmallows. While it looks bubbly and plastic and horrid, it actually kinda tasted good. After 10 minutes of hemming and hawing over whether to eat one, I proceeded to "cook" and eat no less than 5 of them. Self-control doesn't factor in when chocolate, graham crackers and marshmallows (albeit vegan) are involved.

This smore, and pots of quinoa, were made this weekend while camping in the Catskills. In Woodland Valley, to be exact. And if we're going for details here, I suppose I'll confess that the following happened:

1) In three days, I took one shower (sans soap and shampoo).

2) I ran 16 miles, saw about 4 people while doing so, and realized that it would suck to train for a marathon while living in the boonies.

3) I gathered firewood, but managed to pick all the wet, slug-covered pieces.

4) Hiking happened, but was overshadowed by my excitement for Nutz Over Chocolate Luna Bars.

5) The gay male couple in the next campsite purchased a potted flower plant for their picnic table. Now THAT is gay.

6) I lost at Scrabble but played some great 4th grade words like 'dangly,' 'mist,' and 'bee.'

7) In order to light a fire, I burned the one section of the NYTtimes I was told absolutely, under no circumstance, to use.

8) No bears were actually seen, but it was assumed that any sound occurring after dark was made by one.

I suppose that as much as I enjoy the outdoors, I'm not really made for them. Though I DO have the eating part down to an art.

Herman's Hermits Crabs (what I would name a hermit crab pet store if I opened one)

I'm going camping in the Catskills this weekend. It will be my first time to the region, my second-ish time camping, and the zillionth time I try to keep myself from falling asleep on a long car ride. I'm not entirely sure what my problem is when I drive more than 10 miles, but my eyelids just decide that they'd rather not remain in the open position. Sidenote - if you're thinking about getting that Starbucks energy coffee drink, don't. Just don't.

I spent my morning packing and I think I've nailed the essentials - bathing suit, deck of cards, 2 Nalgenes, Q-tips, headlamp, and Twizzlers. I will be prepared for ANYTHING. My adventure includes a stop at Tinker Tubes where I will rent a tube, maneuver my bony ass into it, and then float on it down a river. That is, until I make the slightest movement, topple over, and spend a quarter of a mile trying to hoist myself back up. Yesssssssss!

So, how's about that Prop 8 ruling, you guys? Nice going, California. I will forgive you for trying to steal Massachusetts's thunder because it's a noble cause. Just don't make a habit of it.

Last night I fell alseep to YouTube videos of Keane's "Somewhere Only We Know." I'm not sure why British people don't sound British when they sing; I'm on year 17 of trying to figure this out. Doesn't change the fact that this is my new favorite song, though.

I thought I found an extra bone in my elbow today, but it turns out it was there all along

You have to really like hard boiled eggs to be confident enough to eat them at work. I thought it was safe to eat mine at 7:08pm, but sure enough, I soon heard “Great. Now it smells like eggs in here.” Sorry everybody. They’re a tasty, healthy snack…what do you want from me?

Marathon training is in full swing again. Only this time around, instead of listening to Car Talk on my bazillion mile runs, it’s The Nerdist, Doug Loves Movies, Fresh Air, and Wait Wait Don’t Tell Me. I’ve been told that only dorks listen to NPR while running, so I guess I’m a full fledged dork. I suppose it’s a trade off since I now know all about Daniel Schorr, Mark Ruffalo, and President Obama’s daily routine. Oh, and if you’re keeping track, Harvey has now eaten no less than 4 pairs of headphones. Sonofabitch.

I will soon be riding down to Provincetown on a motorcycle (as a passenger). I am both nervous and excited about this. Was it in an episode of Rescue Me that they referred to it as a “donorcycle?” That certainly isn’t helping matters. And then when I get there, I’ll have to play it cool like I ride all the time and sheeyit, ain’t no thang to be ridin’ on my bike, yo. (If I live to be 120, I don’t think there will ever be a time that I utter that sentence.) On the bright side, I finally get to wear my leather chaps in an appropriate setting.