I spent the better portion of an hour last night fearing that I wouldn't smell like springtime while traveling for an upcoming four day period. Don't get me wrong, of course my pheromones naturally cause me to smell like springtime after stepping off a red eye flight. I also don't sweat; I glow. And each morning when I awaken, I am fresh faced and don't have any of those pillow creases indented on my cheeks. Also, when I blow my nose, diamonds fall from my nostrils. See I'm inherently rich and beautiful, all problems solved. Go me!
Ah yes, back to reality...
I am thoroughly excited to break the monotony of the working week by embarking on a little familial get together, despite the fact that I will be cornered for not achieving the highly coveted "Mrs." status that I hear so much about-- over and over again. And this time, this trip, I refuse, I mean refuse, to check my luggage. Such an adamant stance can only be caused by the debacle that had me waiting for my luggage for 3 hours (!) the last time I traveled. And let's not forget the time before that, when the airline misplaced my luggage: "No, miss, it's not lost, we just can't find it." No, this time, I will control my own destiny. My bag is coming with me.
Being the law-abiding citizen I am, I proceeded to go on a very special journey to procure the 3 oz. or less of my liquid life that I could take with me. You know you have a liquid life too: shampoo, conditioner, lotions, moisturizers and various other products that a good little hygienic consumer uses everyday. Now, if I had to guess, I would say males have about 1/3 the liquid life that females have, so when the security measures tightened post 9-11 (and yes I still believe better safe than sorry) no guy was groaning about making up his carry on bag. No, all he needs is a travel toothpaste and maybe, just maybe, his travel shaving cream. Most guys I know don't care what kind of shampoo goes on their hair, or what kind of soap goes on their body so they can reap the benefits of the hotel mini cleansers. No, most men I know look forward to sleeping in a hotel where someone else will make the bed (okay that's gender neutral as I look forward to that too.) But when a woman decides to go carry on, the prep is almost as annoying as just giving in to baggage claim.
Take me: a regular maintenance, non-brand obsessed but product loyal female who needs a few basics to take me through my morning routine. I'm no slave to fashion, no slave to trend, but I have a few basic concerns: I want to be clean, I want to take care of my skin, and I want to smell like a pretty, pretty princess.
So even though it took me 3 days and 3 stores, I got my travel sized everything: toothpaste, hairspray, lotion, empty bottles for shampoo, conditioner, and oil, plastic bags to put them in so the TSA doesn't think my 1 oz of Dove Body Wash is posing nuclear threat, and -- oh wait. I need a travel sized bottle of fragrance. Something easy and light that I can just take and spritz on me so I feel like I'm still shower fresh at the end of the day.
Well for heaven's sake, why doesn't anybody sell a decently priced travel-sized fragrance anymore? I mean, aside from buying a sample kit from a department store, you really can't buy 3oz or less that doesn't smell like skanky 13 year old. Don't the stores want to support national security? Geez, how patriotic are you Liz Claiborne and your 5 oz bottles?
Okay, okay, so you can get 1 oz of perfume, but it's quality stuff and I just wanted to travel with a spritzer. Fine, you got me, I'm a cheap bastard. I just think that in an economy that's crumbling faster than a bad home-ec cookie, it would be nice to find the little things for little prices a little easier.
Isn't it funny when we try to travel lighter we end of traveling heavier? After all, stress weighs more than a carry-on, and you have to hold it on your shoulders. My stress doesn't come on wheels.
So by making my life easier, I'm actually making my life more difficult. I could just have packed a bag with all the crap I already have at home and checked the damn thing. I mean, what's really the point of making travel more of a hassle than it already is?
Oh well. The damage is done. But at least I know one thing: I'm coming home with my bag and I'm not dancing with the Devil that is the baggage carousel. At least, not this trip.
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