Bagging It

the four-footed one has developed a thing for bags.  Handbags, messenger bags, backpacks and shopping bags.  None of these are safe from her curiosity.  Or her nose.  Or her paws.

I’m not sure when she first discovered her thing for bags, but I can attest to having her paws in my bag.  I caught her today with her nose, rooting around in one of my bags.  There is something there that she would find interesting, but still she does it.  It’s a little odd, but super embarrassing when she does it to a guest.

A little earlier today we had a dear friend of Beloved’s drop by for a visit.  The four-footed one wasn’t just interested in the person.  Oh no!  She  happily stuck her head in  the bag, and at some point she climbed right in and made herself at home.  Because who wouldn’t want a dog in their bag?

Thankfully this friend was understanding about our poorly behaved dog.  Which I guess is really a reflection on us.  Beloved also has a thing for bags.  It’s why he bought me a new backpack even though there is nothing wrong with my current one.  See?  The dog gets it from him.  Not that he sticks his nose, hands or body in visitors’ bags, but you get the idea.


What’s in Your Bag or Home Is What?

I threw some items into my carry-on bag just before getting ready to head off back home. Or at least to my other home. Or one of my many homes if you follow the saying home is where the heart is.

Beloved hates how I pack, but since we maintain more than one place (one on each side of the ocean) I never pack a ton of things to cart back and forth. It’s just easier to not have to carry along a lot of unnecessary luggage. Besides the climates in both places are very different.

Granted the people at the customs part of the airport never seem to appreciate my efficiency with my limited bags. As in how can a woman travel from one country to another with only her carry-on luggage? So I normally have to jump through special hoops (thankfully not flaming ones, although at times it feels that way) just to get through the nightmare that is security and customs and on my way to my house. Beloved will at least cart a laptop or tablet bag as well as his carry-on just to make things look a little better. But still this is frowned upon.

Apparently you cannot have more than one domicile or you must be up to something nefarious. I’m pretty sure both our pictures, names and all the other good stuff has been flagged a million times over because of our lack of need to bring luggage on our trips when going back and forth between the houses. (To be honest, Beloved only recently gave up on the whole bring a suitcase with clothing each time.) Who knew that officials, government officials at that, got to decide what is an is not acceptable when it comes to traveling between two houses in two different countries? Houses that each respective person owned prior to the relationship. Houses that each person had furnished and set up prior to the relationships.

Beloved has had people question his limited amount of clothing as well as his choice of clothing, or lack thereof when landing here. I’ve had the same thing, as well as long delays while all my documentation is reviewed eight ways to Sunday and then some just to ensure I’m not making up anything. And then of course there is the whole “how can you afford this?” or my favorite “why not just live in one place” type of conversations that the officials feel is within their rights to bring up with us.

And yet, despite the hassles, the complaints we both have, we are happy maintaining our two places. Happy because living together just doesn’t work the way we thought. We both need our own space, our own areas that allow us to simply be us. He cannot fathom only ever going back to his hometown for visits or holidays and I cannot fathom being asked to give up my own way of living to stay where he is. So we comprise and deal with nosy officials and odd comments by fellow passengers. Because it’s not what home is to them, but rather what home means to both of us.

What Are You Carrying With You

Friends I have a confession to make.  I struggle, honest to goodness struggle, with letting go of some things.  Not everything.   It seems like some  the stuff I know I need to let go…I struggle the hardest with.

Oh I try, but sometimes I think if I let it go I will somehow realize that I let go of the wrong thing.  when I do let something go of course it’s feels great.  It’s a weight that’s been lifted, freeing me to be open to new experiences.

So what things do I hang onto you may be wondering.  After all some people hold onto history, people from their past, hairstyles, beliefs and what have you.  But nope, this isn’t what I struggle with letting go of.  Instead I struggle with letting go of negative feedback and comments.  I’m not talking about constructive criticism either, instead I’m talking negative things that people sometimes say just for the sake of saying something negative.

It isn’t that I internalize these statements and make them mine.  But I need to turn em over in my mind.  I need to feel each curve and bump of the indivudal letters as well as the flow of the word.  Just in caseload.just in case there may be something to learn from or take away so it can’t come out of someone’s mouth again.

The end result?  I can tell you a million negative things that I may learn something from, but mostly I just carry around.  In other news, if you are looking for someone to anchor you, I just may be the person you need!

How about you?  What stuff do you carry with you even though you know you don’t need to be lugging that with you?  What do you do to let your fingers release their grip on that baggage?


Packing It In

I love to travel!  There is something exhilarating about going on an adventure.  Long trips or short trips, it doesn’t really matter.  It’s the thrill  of something new, some different to break up the routine that gets me excited.

however I hate to pack.  I hate having to decide what to clothes to bring based on weather and what I may be doing.  But far worse than those decisions is the dread, the horror, the nightmare of something called packing.  Packing is the bane of travel!

Is there anything tedious,  more annoying than having to cram your clothes into a suitcase that’s permitted on your trip?  A suitcase that can’t be packed full because there will be things to bring back?  A suitcase that you have to haul  with you?  It’s a bit liked  boat anchor, and I dont even pack heavy.

My ideal trace is basically a knapsack or small carry-on duffel.  I guess part of that is because time I fly with a certain airline they do one of two things just for mer.  They either lose my luggage (albeit temporarily) or they damage my luggage.  Now I know some of you are jealous of this star treatment, but I assure you here are drawbacks to it!  Such as never having what you need, what you packed, when you need it.

Beloved points out that this is part of the adventure, but then it’s never his stuff that’s lost.  He detests my ps king and fitting everything into a small bag, a bag I can keep with me.  He claims I look a bit like a person carrying all her worldly belongings with her when I do this and he has a suitcase.

When I travel alone, I like to travel light and haven the freedom of not being left to drag the anchor, err suitcase I mean, around.  Of course cleaning customs and security can be a hassle when you are travelling for three weeks and only have a knapsack, albeit a well packed on, as your luggage.

And when I’m traveling with him  well let’s just say some of my stuff has a  way of migrating (all on its own accord mind you) into his suitcase.  It’s one of life’s mysteries how this happens, but it’s all part of the adventure.  Besides I like to think of him as my personal Sherpa sometimes!