Packing My Suitcase

Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday.

Monday.

I leave this Monday, January 21st, 2008. Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. How apropos!

So I figure, with a precious few days left in this hemisphere, that I should begin to pack for my trip:

1.) Sweatshirt (make it two; they're bulky, but they'll remind me of home.)

2.) Jeans (for hiking, general every day things, and traveling. High mileage. Five pairs.)

3.) Bathing suit (if I choose to be brave and surf with the Great Whites.)

4.) Raincoat (winters are rainy and foggy.)

5.) Shoes (sneakers, sandals, and hiking boots. Sadly, my purple ballet flats will stay home.)

6.) My iPod ( the UTMOST necessity. I don't think I'd survive the flight without it.)

7.) Books (Clan of the Cave Bear, Love in the Time of Cholera, and many others since there   will be no television in my house. It's refreshing.)

8.) Sunscreen, bug repellent, band aids, and other necessities (Boy Scout motto.)

9.) iBook G4 (so I can e-mail and blog, of course! A camera is an important addendum.)

10.) An open mind (and a heavy heart; sad to leave but ecstatic for what is to come.)

Looking at everything laid out on my bed, and strewn across my floor, I realize that I want to pack all of my friends in my suitcase more than any shirt or dress.  These past few weeks, I have had such an amazing time with all of my friends, new and old, coming out and making time to wish me well on my trip.  

Last Monday, Apple pretty much took over Brew Works in an impromptu bon voyage party, and I realized what a wonderful and caring group I was privileged to work with.  Thanks for the dollar, Pipe! I'll let you know when it comes into use! 

My last day at the Alumni Association was filled with cake and sad goodbyes.  Monica's safari animal cake was so great; I wish I had pictures to show. LUAA has accepted me with open arms, and I will miss Jill's wooden nickel mantra and Linda's unmistakeable 9:30am "where are we going for lunch?"

As I head into the weekend, it's beginning to hit me that the hardest goodbyes of all are yet to come. I wonder what my parting words will be as I kiss my family and tote my luggage into bustling JFK. I'm sure my mother will yell something out of the car window about photocopies of credit cards, passports, and immunizations. I'll act like I'm annoyed, even if I am secretly thankful for her foresight.  I wonder how I will leave my best friends; people who have really shaped me in the most defining years of my life thus far.  They're all going on journeys of their own, and I can't wait to hear about them.