Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Preperation and Leaving

Today I am packing. And I hate packing. I leave for a month-long adventure through America’s West. Two weeks in California and then two weeks in Texas and New Mexico, with small adventures in Colorado and Utah.

My posts over the next four Wednesdays will be prewritten. That is half the beauty of blogspot. I can save them and travel internet free for four weeks and not worry about letting down all the followers.

Back to packing: It is a REAL problem for me. My first realization that there was something wrong was when I was 14. My family was moving from sunny Mesa, AZ to totally awesome, grunge capital of the world, Seattle. My mom was already there looking for a house. My dad was left with the daunting task of packing our huge Arizona house and my sister and I.
It was the night before the U-Hauls arrival and I was out hanging with my friends. It was a good-bye. Unfortunately my room was a disaster—as any honest 14 year old girl’s should be. That night was the only time my father wanted to hit me. He kept his cool, I got my room packed, and we drove off the next day with a cat and a dog in the U-Haul.

The next time was when Steve and I left dreary, claustrophobic Seattle and moved to Eagle Mountain. We came to Utah and found an apartment. I stayed at my sisters and Steve went back to Seattle to pack. He didn’t even give me the option. Bless his wonderful soul.

So here I am with plenty time to get ready and pack and I am wasting it by blogging. What am I doing?


  1. Hahaha! I feel your pain. I hate packing, too. In fact, I'm packing and cleaning for an impromptu overnighter to SanFran. I'm supposed to have the kids in the car in one hour and what am I doing? Checking the blog because it is infinitely more interesting than packing.

  2. See ST, you just got home and you gotta get out again. Seinfeld was right!

    I wouldn't mind it so much if it was just packing suitcases, but with kids you have to take the whole bleeping house with you. It's all the miscellaneous junk, and finding a place to put it, that drives me crazy.