Despite the title of this entry, anyone who seen the recent photo I posted of my shoes will probably have guessed that I’m not really much of a one for travelling light. Oh hell no. In fact, I’ve just spent almost the entire day packing for my honeymoon, and trust me, it has not gone well. So far I’ve packed, unpacked and repacked several times, but my case STILL won’t close properly and I’ve only been able to squeeze in five pairs of shoes – and two of those don’t even count because they’re flip-flops and tennis shoes. And OK, I’ll wear one of the pairs I intended to take with me to travel in, so that’s just six pairs of shoes, but even so – SIX . PAIRS. OF. SHOES. That sucks. And also? Blows.
It’s totally freaking me out. I emailed my mum in a panic, and she was all, “you don’t need lots of pairs of shoes,” but the thing is, I totally DO need lots of pairs of shoes. Aaargh!
In better news, the red weals have totally disappeared now, so you’re looking at a 100% weal-free zone, kids. (Well, you would be if you were actually looking at me. You know what I mean.) I’m also so super-organised that I’ve even remembered to renew my library books online because we’ll be away when they’re due back, GO ME! And I also managed yet another quick trip to the shops to see if That Dress in Asda was available in my size yet. (It wasn’t, so I bought shoes instead, HOW WILL I GET THEM IN MY CASE?)
So. Things are moving along nicely. Terry’s best man and brother, John, arrived today from Birmingham; his other brother will be arriving from Athens tomorrow, and my best friend is travelling up from the south of England tomorrow, too. It’s really humbling to think of all of these people travelling all that way just because of us. I mean – wow. We totally don’t deserve that. Tomorrow the men’s suits have to be picked up, and I’m having my nails done (which I’m not looking forward to because it will involve lots of that inane beautician smalltalk I’m so bad at)… then we’re good to go.
One thing, though. Well, two things, actually:
Tomorrow Rubin is being taken to the place he knows as ‘Las Vegas’ and we know as “the dog kennels up the road”. Now, he has been there before, so I know they’ll look after him, and he’ll only be there for two nights before my parents take him to their house for the rest of the fortnight we’re away, but I feel terrible. So, so terrible. I mean, yes, it’s only for two nights, but the thing is, he won’t know that. He will think he’s been totally abandoned, and that we’re never coming back for him, and all day he’s been breaking my heart with his big, mournful eyes. Mind you, he did pee on the washing machine while I was out buying my shoes, so moving on…
I am terrified of flying, and I don’t mean I’m just a little bit scared of flying here, I mean “one time the cabin crew almost had to sedate me to get me to calm down”. It’s like, Mr T-league fear of flying. For the past few weeks I’ve been able to distract myself from the all-consuming fear with work and wedding planning, but now that I actually come to pack my case? I am crapping myself. How will I get on the plane? What if it crashes? And, you know, there really hasn’t been a big plane crash for ages now, which means there MUST be one due soon, no? Terrified. And things like this don’t help:
Must think positive, must think positive, must think positive…