Given that I'm all "TravelGretta" and such, wouldn't you think it would behoove my parents to glean helpful travel tips from me? Me, their own offspring? Me, their delightful progeny? Me, the fruit of their...gross, forget that last one.
As a "Thank You" for taking care of my kitty-cat, and allowing me to usurp their closet space with my many, many, many pairs of shoes, while I lived overseas, and for being all around awesome parents, I booked The Mom and The Dad First/Business Class tickets to Paris and London.
I AM JUST NICE LIKE THAT!
They haven't been on a big, Trans-Atlantic trip since their honeymoon, back in the 1600s, so this was kind of a big deal for them and they wanted to make sure to plan everything just so.
The Mom and The Dad are fully aware of this blog - TravelGretta - and they know me pretty well; me, their daughter,TravelGretta (although no, that is not my given name, you're right). They are familiar with the voluminous trips, jaunts, and excursions I have taken over the years, and yet, when it came time to plan the details of their own trip, do you think they asked me for assistance? Do you?
Or do you think they checked out a bunch of guide books from the library, spent hours on Google, attended a Saturday morning, AAA "packing seminar" and purchased a book entitled "Pack It Up: The Essential Guide to Organized Travel"?
It's okay. I'll get over it. Plus, I just bought another pair of shoes for them to store in their closet.
Friday, October 22, 2010
Thursday, October 21, 2010
I enjoy packing. Not everyone does. However, not everyone has the awesome Daily Outfit Planner, which practically does the packing for you. If I were more web-savvy, I would post a screen shot of said planner right here:
Am not web-savvy. Many apologies.
It's the unpacking that makes me insane. First, that stupid TSA flier falls out, and reminds you that random people have been sifting through your stuff, and not putting it back the way you originally packed it.
Secondly, everything is dirty, except that one cocktail dress you keep bringing with you, and yet never end up wearing. Why don't people play dress-up anymore?
So you're left staring at the messy, dirty contents of your fun vacation. Where does the stuff go?
Mostly in the hamper. That is the one good part of unpacking: you can just throw the stuff right into the hamper. But then you have to put all the other crap back.
You have to hang the cocktail dress back in the closet, wondering if you are ever going to get to wear it while it's still in style.
You have to find a place for the maps, ticket stubs, postcards and other random vacation accoutrement that should be thrown out, as you are not a scrapbooker, but you can't bear to part with the memorabilia so soon.
You have to unwrap the carefully plastic-wrapped toiletries, and schlep them back to the bathroom or the top of the dresser. During said schlep, you are reminded that your fun vacation is over. You are back to the hum-drum of using the toiletries in your own boring house, rather than at the beach-front villa, or chic Parisian apartment.
Frowny face for unpacking! But welcome home anyway;)