Sharing Is Over-Rated

From Gabe:
So the topic of packing came up a few weeks back over a Europe planning trip. The topic turned to sharing items to conserve space for packing. One person would bring all said items for the group. Okay, that’s fine; I can share to a point. For example, let me know who has the drugs and I’m good. Thats useful sharing. But suddenly, the next thing I knew, Laura is talking about one person bringing the fingernail clippers, tweezers, and scissors so we all don’t have to bring our own.

Whoah!

The background here is that may facial hair grows like a jungle. This means, in addition to regular shaving, I have to use scissors to free ingrown hairs and tweezers to pluck them out. Not to mention my nose hairs. Sharing these grooming items simply crosses the line. I think I can best express myself Dr. Suess style:

Will you share
your tweezers man?

I do not think so,
Euro-man.
I will not share
my tweezers man!

I will not share them
How can you?
When most nose stuff
sticks like glue!

I will not share them here or there
I will not share them anywhere!
I will not share them on the road
I will not share them if you goad

I will not share them with my wife
I will not share them my whole life

Scissors prick my pore
Just look
They’ll still be mine
in Innsbruck
I will not share them
in a hostel
I do not will not
share my nostril

I cannot
will not
care to share
that same tool
that pulls your hair

I fear this topic
will be debated
but sharing of this kind
is over-rated

How I Roll....

Some of you are aware that I have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Unfortunately, it is not the kind that makes me keep my apartment or my car clean. Rather, it is the type that keeps me awake at night worrying that a brush fire is going to burn me alive. Generally, I am able to pray, meditate and use coping skills and I manage just fine. However, as the trip nears, my craziness grows. During this trip I am going to encounter two of my three most anxiety provoking situations, flying and being a passenger in a vehicle driving in the mountains. I have also noticed a bit of a germ phobia. Thus, today's topic. And yes, I know I am crazy.

Last week, I went to my general physician. I explained the vacation that I was set to embark upon. After a brief fit of laughter, he ask "So what do you need?". This was the response that I was seeking. By the time I left, I was holding the golden ticket, a prescription for Ativan. While I believe it is important to use all non-medical interventions prior to turning to benzos, these are desperate times. As the prescription was filled, a smile crept across my face....I was going to make it! You see, when it comes to flying, I prefer to fly Mr. T style. For those of you not sure of the reference, Mr. T played B.A. Baracus on one of the most fabulous TV shows of the '80s, the A-Team. Whenever the Team had to go to another country to fight the day's battle, B.A. Baracus would respond "I ain't gettin on no plane", at which point someone would give him a glass of milk laced with tranquilizers and he would wake up at the destination spot, completely unaware of his journey. In my ideal world, this is what would happen to me and I would merely wake up calling someone a "fool" for taking me on a plane.

My last flight was to Chicago with my friend Samantha. We flew Southwest and found seats in the front of the plane. The set up was cockpit, bathroom, emergency exit, and then seating. Every time someone got up to use the bathroom, I had a vision of them going to the emergency exit and opening the door, mistaking it for the bathroom and all of the passengers would be vented out of the plane, meeting their doom. So what did I do? I became the aisle monitor, directing everyone that came up by my seat to use the correct door and to not linger around the emergency door, as the giant warning "exit" sign and complicated locking mechanism was not enough to thwart the ignorance of the passengers. Yes, I know I am crazy.

During the trip, my father and my sister will be driving. My father is the king of looking everywhere but the road while pointing out landmarks and my sister has difficulty giving up the right of way or even following behind another car on the road. Now most people would be able to adjust to both of these situations, noting the numerous statistics that state how safe flying is and the guard rails keeping vehicles from going off the cliffs, however I am someone who is all about "the odds". I figure, if a person is in a car crash, they have decent odds of survival. If a plane crashes or an RV goes off the edge of the Alps, odds of survival are significantly reduced.....hence the Ativan. And yes, I know I am crazy.

As for the germs, I never considered myself to be phobic about germs, until I realized the number of public restrooms that I would be using on this trip. So what did I do? I went to Target, because I knew Target would have an answer for me. And did they ever! Not only did I pick up several travel-sized rolls of toilet paper and sanitizing hand wipes, but I found the motherload...travel packages of toilet seat covers. That's what I'm talking about!!! Now granted they are made for children and have colorful pictures of balloons and kittens on them, but my derriere will not have to have direct contact with a public toilet for the duration of the trip. And no, that is not crazy, that's just right.

Until next time,

Heather

A Whole New Reality

From Gabe:
Sometimes a mother-in-law sums it up perfectly. So I'm talking with Grace and Laura the other day about the trip, when I make the comment to my wife "I think you're in for big surprise on the actual size of this RV." (We had a friend whose in the RV business over here, tell us Sunday that 21' in Europe was more like 16' of livable space.) To which she frowned and told me that I was being negative again.

Suddenly, Grace steps in and in a very Chicagoan-style berating tone blurts to Laura, "Hey, you listen! Gabe is right! Laura, you need to prepare yourself for a WHOLE NEW REALITY!"

That's right: seven various personalities. Varying baggage of the kind that you don't pack but just bring with you. Five countries. One RV that just got smaller.

A whole new reality indeed.