Some people have referred to me as a seasoned traveller, and that as such, I’m a good packer which is by many accounts true. I can go on a week’s vacation with a single duffel bag and not feel a pinch¹, I know enough to not attempt to bring a near-empty toothpaste tube on a flight (which, even though it CLEARLY contains less than the allowed 3 ounces, SAYS, say, 12 ounces and is therefore banned), and I always usually manage to bring enough knitting to keep myself entertained.

Well. I’m on a trip to the NC shore for Trevor and Andrea’s wedding. It’s just a few days at the shore, but I decided to extend the trip and see some friends in Greensboro, Chapel Hill, and Durham while I’m here. I didn’t check the weather before I left — I never do (which ended up being a bit of a problem in New Zealand. I froze for the first month, not realizing how chilly their fall weather can be), but just packed generally-all-weather gear that would be good for layering, plus a nice dress for the cenermony.

These are the contents of my bag:
– 4 tank tops: 1 cotton, 3 wool (thin wool is better than cotton in warm weather. Seriously. Wool actually wicks sweat away instead of just getting damp and clammy like cotton).
– 2 pairs jeans
– 1 pair decent-looking trousers
– 1 pair trousers for dancing, which could double as decent-looking trousers
– 2 t-shirts
– 1 sports bra
– 1 dress
– 1 wool long-sleeved shirt for cool nights
– 1 fleece zip-up hoodie for tank-top modesty and also cool nights
– 1 fancy dress/t-shirt in case the wedding guests/I decide to go casual
– 1 pair comfortable but nice-looking shoes (worn all the time, so don’t go in the bag).
– Assorted underoos (I don’t buy into the 1-pair-of-underwear-for-a-vacation nonsense. Underwear takes up very little room, and is the only bit of clothing that really NEEDS to be washed before re-wearing. Bringing multiple pairs involves less washing. Plus, what if they don’t dry in time? The quick-dry pairs I’ve bought have never been quick-dry).

See? Easy. A little heavier than I usually pack (I had my car with me, so that allowed for some decadent packing), but not bad.

What I didn’t realize — because I didn’t check the weather — is that NC this week has been subject to a blistering heat wave. It’s been in the upper 90’s, sometimes reaching into the hundreds, with humidity of approiximately swimming pool percent. Ask me how often I’ve needed that fleece hoodie. (Actually, the long-sleeved wool shirt came in handy as a pillow covering when I stayed with a friend who didn’t use her air conditioning. See: sweat wicking).

That planning is pretty poor in itself, but here’s the best part. Here’s the list of things I forgot to bring:

– 1 swim suit
– 1 pair flip flops, or other beach shoes
– sun screen
– a towel
– SHORTS (save 1 pair of gauchos that were designated pyjamas because they’re falling apart)

Apparently I somehow managed to ignore the whole “shore” aspect of the trip².

Some seasoned traveller I am.

Congratulations, T&A. I love you both like whoa.

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¹ Of course, I also don’t mind wearing the same shirt/jeans repeatedly without washing them, which makes for easier packing.

² Although in my defense when I was young “shore” meant the Jersy shore, which had little to nothing to do with swimming.

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Ho ho ho. The cars here are so huge. Irrationally huge. Well, they’re not now that I’ve been driving my monstrous beast around, but for the first few days I felt incredibly short. Shorter than usual.

That was fine and good, and then we went to the grocery store.

General stores and food stores over there are pathetic. While in the US I can go to a decent Harris Teeter or Whole Foods (oh Whole Foods, how you ruin me, with your impulse purchases) and get everything I need with one stop – including potting soil. It’s impossible to find potting soil in Edinburgh. You’d think that a country so into gardening would have easily accessible potting soil.

But to get my usual groceries I’d go to Sainsbury’s, which was a close, decent grocery store. But they don’t have large packs of asparagus or gorgonzola cheese (despite their advertisements for it), so I’d have to go to Marks & Spencer to get it. And I wouldn’t want to carry a 2-litre bottle of coke all that way, so I’d have to go to the corner store on the way home. And the drugstore for vitamins. I’d have to visit five stores and still wouldn’t get everything I need.

Now I can go to one store and get much more than I need.

So we’re in the grocery store, after many hours of sitting in a plane and then more time in the car. There’s a five hour time difference and I’m a little half-brained. And wide-eyed and agog at all the variety and choice and look! Potting soil! And the soups! If there’s anything the Scottish can’t do it’s canned soup. Progresso is a godsend. Heinz soup is hideous.

All the fresh fruit and veg! The obscurely-flavored potato chips! (We have flavors like “ranch” – they have flavors like “roasted chicken with thyme.” For chips! Really!). Flowers and plants and gallons of milk and giant jugs of OJ.

Their cheese selection was lame and their gorgonzola had half the flavor that British blue cheese does, but that’s for another entry.

It’s kind of nice being back in a place where I know how to find things, though there is the problem of excess. Ah, well.

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I feel so uncomfortable. Things are familiar, but slightly off. I keep expecting things to be new, but they’re not. I don’t know if I want to be here. I don’t know where else I could go.

In Born Yesterday Melanie Griffith laments that after a brief foray into education she doesn’t want the things she used to want (furs, jewelry, television); they don’t make her happy anymore.

I left and returned and I feel displaced in what was and will soon be home.

When I was driving into the state I was surprised by how commercial it is here. Billboards and giant signs every fifty feet. I hate it. I still miss the beauty and charm of Edinburgh, but I still don’t want to go back.

And I don’t know if I want to try somewhere new.

When I first got to Europe I would get terribly homesick until I attributed it to fatigue. After sleep I was more confident. I don’t doubt this will be the same. But I need to wait for Andrea to come home so I can say hi.

I was thinking I’d set my lease for a year, but now I’m thinking six months. Wondering if I’ll regain my comfort with the city, wondering if I want to.

The post Well. appeared first on Travel Blog.

I went to the Edinburgh Swing Dance Society website the other day and felt really nostalgic.

I have a strong urge to go back. I can picture my little corner of the city so well, and there are things there that I didn’t get to do. I miss my friends. But it’s too far. I’m not like so many of my friends who can pack up and leave their families for years at a time. I like being home for thanksgiving and Christmas. I like my weekend trips back, if only to remind myself that I don’t want to actually live there anymore. Driving around here and looking at the scenery is just depressing.

Maybe when I get back to North Carolina things will feel normal again. North Carolina, where I haven’t heard from most of those people in months. I feel so uprooted. I don’t have a place to go back to in NC — I have to find a place to live, and it’s looking like I’m going to be living alone. But where should I live? Near friends in a place I don’t particularly like, or farther from friends in an apartment complex with more perks?

And jobs — that’s a problem. I’ve gotten my first rejection already. My other options leave me stuck in an office all day doing work that I’m overqualified to do, or jobs for which I’m underqualified.

So for now I’m staying with my folks until I get my act together enough to move, job or no. I have enough money to support myself for a while, but I’d rather be saving that money for something fun than sitting around somewhere new with no job. I’m comforted that I have enough to be able to move without a job, though.

Oof.

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