Packing for Experiences

I am astounded at myself because I have only just started packing for a trip coming up on Saturday that I have been anticipating since I left last year - the annual family camping trip in Maine. Normally I would have my bags zippered, my mix cds in their cases with articulate and colorful labels, and my grocery list itemized by category for easy shopping upon arrival.

This year, however, I did not cross one thing off my list until 11 pm last night. Mostly because the lengthy stay of some out-of-state family members pushed off my list-making. And then an email graced my office inbox yesterday, nothing in the body, only a subject line reading "4 days." Thankfully I knew it was my cousin and not some creepy follower of The Ring. But I was thrown into motion and can think of nothing else now but seeing the level of my duffel bag rise.

Why is packing almost as fun as the trip itself? I throw a stack of shirts on the bed and sit for an hour contemplating which tank top will produce the most "wow"s at first sight, which sweatshirt will retain the most sand, which t-shirt I'll take off in the canoe when I want the sun on my shoulders? I can't think logically because I'm not packing for weather but for experiences.

Which is why I will never be a light packer. And why I don't fully understand how someone can backpack across Europe with one bag. Don't they yearn for a certain skirt when they stand before the Parthenon? Don't they wish they had packed that fluttering dress as they grace the bottom of the Spanish Steps?

I'm leaving the office shortly. I think I will stop at CVS and buy some travel-size Dove shampoos so my hair will smell exactly right when I get in my car Saturday morning and begin my week of experiences.