blades vs. practicality

Packing stresses me out. HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW WHAT I WANT TO WEAR/NEED TO WEAR FOR THE NEXT FOUR MONTHS OF MY LIFE?

I hate it. I also realized one of my oddities as I was pondering packing. I feel bad leaving certain garments behind, as if I’m hurting their feelings by not choosing them to come along on my adventure. Crazy? Perhaps.

My mother told me today to pack things that are “practical.” God has blessed me with many gifts, but practicality is not one of them. I scoffed at my mom when she told me that- me practical? Absolutely not. I asked her if she expected me to wear white Nike’s, mom jeans, and ‘Merica t-shirts the whole time…..

This conversation of practicality led me to my precious ‘blades (that is rollerblades to those of you who are unaware of the recent “Blade or Die” movement taking place across the country).

This past summer I recently took up ‘blading again after a near 10 year hiatus. I found them in the basement and they were two sizes too big- no big deal. I put on two pairs of wool socks and joyfully cruised the back roads of northern Wisconsin by myself. It was sheer bliss.

So I got to thinking- maybe I can bring my ‘blades to Prague!

My blades weigh a little over eight pounds (yes, I weighed them) – surprisingly the same weight as me as a newborn. A sign? I think so.

Although they take up as much space as a wee babe (something I will not be bringing to Prague), their weight is also equivalent to one toothbrush, seven pairs of undies, one raincoat and a pair of practical white Nike’s (things I should bringing to Prague). One would maybe consider these all legitimate necessities and while ‘blades may be thought of as a “lesser” necessity (but a necessity nonetheless); they might just need to sit this adventure out. I’ll make it up to them when I come home.

Plus, there is snow in Prague. I couldn’t blade anyway.

But don’t think I haven’t gone to great lengths for my ‘blades before. My family and I recently went on a vacation to San Diego where we rented a beach house on Mission Beach. I had miles of beach boardwalk at my fingertips! So I brought my ‘blades. Obviously.

My mom and I packed together so I could put my ‘blades in my carry-on (at this point I should probably clarify that at security checkpoint I was sure to refer to my ‘blades as rollerblades so as to avoid any miscommunication and an unwanted 3-day terrorist interrogation by TSA agents)

I had a little extra space in my carry-on so I decided to pack a few things along with my ‘blades, such as all of my underwear.

There I am going through security at the airport, waiting in line holding my boots and frantically trying to delayer with all the other travelers with similar rolling carry-ons. Unbeknownst to the others with “practically” packed carry-ons, my suitcase held rollerblades and undies. That’s it.

So I get it. Practicality isn’t my thing. But now that I have come to terms with the fact that my ‘blades must stay home for this adventure, I can move on to what shoes to bring…. Pray for me as I begin my packing journey.

On a more joyful note- I’ll be in Prague in three days! If I could just fast forward through this whole packing and preparing business, that would be great. But my mother says I am building life long skills as I struggle with downsizing. Really? I’d say that one is up for debate.

Next time you hear from me I’ll be in Prague and most-likely jet-legged and overwhelmed with glee!

Cheers!

Maarja