As my kids like to say, “it’s a free country.”
Usually this Declaration of Independence comes in the context of some you can’t make me retort involving Harry Potter play or Lego pieces.
And they are right, it is a free country. We are free to choose whom we love, where we live, our profession. We have the right to vote, speak our mind, control our bodies. We can redress our grievances to our government and hire redress grievance officers (i.e. lobbyists) to advocate for our views.
There is much that is screwed up in this beautiful country of ours, but with the good comes the bad.
Today I toast the good.
A week ago, I was going to do a post on summer beauty. But I was too hot to think and realized it’s all pointless when it feels impossible to look fresh and put together in the DC heat and humidity.
Then last night I was going to write a post on packing. But let’s be honest, I suck at it. I mean, I’m good at folding and organizing and remembering everything (and I do mean everything) but I always bring one pair of shoes too many. At least this time I practically (almost willingly) left my precious hair dryer behind, but I more than made up for it, as evidenced by the grunt the driver made when loading my deceivingly small but heavy suitcase into the trunk.
Five dresses (think easy breezy, not work), four pairs of shoes (not including the travel pair), three workout outfits (maybe overly ambitious), two lipsticks (not including lip gloss) and one bathing suit (just in case) later, I’m in a car on the way to the airport.
And where am I going? I almost forgot to mention. San Francisco until Friday. Napa for the weekend. Enough said.
This trip to SF that I used to take quarterly already feels different. For starters, it’s the first time I’m not building a long weekend in wine country around a business trip in the city. Then there’s the whole not flying Virgin thing. (I’m not breaking up with you, Richard Branson… Your flights were just so much more expensive.)
The bottom line is I’m ready to get out of dodge and while Northern California apparently is not welcoming me with the cool weather embrace I crave, I’m thinking that a “heat wave” in San Francisco holds a different meaning from one here in DC.
I may have packed poorly, but I’m getting away. And I hope Napa has a lot of wine to help me drink to that.