When packing for Minnesota last week, I couldn’t believe how light I was traveling. “Look at me go,” I thought! “I’m going for four days and am only bringing this tiny bag! Simplicity FTW!” The secret to my success was only bringing one pair of pants (my favorite jeans), and a bunch of different tops. “Who cares if I wear the same jeans all weekend?” I thought, “they’re jeans! I’m so resourceful! I should be a professional packer! Look how tiny my bag is! Wee! Self-high-five!”
But of course, as is always the case with me, those should have been considered famous last words. Because Friday night, less than 24 hours into my trip, I bent down while getting dressed and my jeans ripped. Not just like, “oh, cute, there’s a hole in the knee.” More like, “I’m a vagina and there’s NO WAY I’m staying cooped up in this denim prison!! Woo hoo! Freedom! Shake it like a salt shaker!”
And just like that, I had myself a pair of virtually crotchless jeans.
So I did the best thing I could think of at the time: shrugged, tried to tuck the jeans into my underwear a little bit, failed, shrugged again, and went out anyway. Because I mean, what was the alternative? Not wearing pants? At least this way my inner thighs got to enjoy the gorgeous Minnesota breeze as much as I did.
(You’re welcome thighs.)
The other weekend highlight was finally getting my fourth tattoo. I’ve had a small circle on my right wrist for a few years, a circle that symbolizes the continuity of life, the power of cause and effect, and the fact that I really believe everything is connected. I added my favorite version of the infinity sign to it, one that doesn’t quite let the tips connect with each other, which just reinforces the overall meaning for me.
Doniree got the same symbol, which basically means she’s stuck being my friend for LIFE.
No? Too creepy?
Anyway, the entire weekend was incredible- the best I’ve had in a long, long time actually. On Sunday evening, I really wasn’t ready to head home, but the fact that I’m completely in love with the airport definitely helped. I know, I know, I’m a huge freak- who loves the airport? I DO! ME! THIS GIRL! It’s just so anonymous and full of possibility. I sat there, staring at the departures board and was all, “I could go to Argentina! Greece! Bali! Idaho!” And then I was like, “Wait what? Why the fuck would I want to go to Idaho?” Followed by, “MAYBE IDAHO IS THE BEST PLACE IN THE UNIVERSE AND OMG I WON’T KNOW UNTIL I JUST SACK UP AND GO EVERYWHERE.”
Which is when I realized I was standing in the middle of the airport, yelling at myself, while my vagina was playing peek-a-boo out of the bottom of my jeans. So, to reprioritize, clearly I’ll buy new jeans and then go to Idaho.