Packing (Physically and Mentally)

The past week has been serenely uneventful.  I've spent a few nights outside on the backyard patio making smores with my family.  I learned how to make iced coffee (my special touch includes a ping pong size dollop of whipped cream and sprinkling ground cocoa on top).  I've been reading a lot.  My new favorite author, Alain de Botton wrote "The Art of Travel" (which takes you to many places throughout the world with 'guides' like van Gogh and William Wordsworth--highly recommended!), "On Love" (a 'love' story similar to 500 Days of Summer) and "The Architecture of Happiness" (if you're even slightly interested in architecture this is your book).  He's helped me to stop and constructively reflect upon my past romantic relationships as well as traveling concerns.  In a way, he's encouraged me to pack psychologically/mentally for my adventure.

I also got the chance to read "The Omnivore's Dilemma" by Michael Pollan, a rite of passage for an environmentalist and an educational enlightenment about American food.  I'm curious to see how Australian food compares to American food in terms of quality and ingredients (is everything made of corn there like it is in the States?).  Since I'll be cooking my meals I can voice my political views with my food purchases--my excitement overwhelms me.

I'm reading my favorites like "The Alchemist" by Paulo Coelho and "Into the Wild" by Jon Krakauer.  Reading these books is like visiting my favorite places in the world.  However my actual list of places include the Brookfield Zoo, the Garfield Park Conservatory and the beach by the Planetarium, none of which I have visited because experiencing these places and then having to leave them is like ripping a part of me and setting it aside to rot.

I feel this way when I'm sorting my closet into the sections 'Australia' and 'The States.'  Being forced to leave my Blackhawks jersey, White Sox sweatshirt and my father's old yellow sweater at home is like leaving pieces of me there as well.  I cannot imagine how I will feel about them, much less the people I will be returning to in six months.  As my departure date beckons, I feel that I'm departing from more than just an airport and a place but a part of myself founded upon my family, friends and comfortabilites like clothes, favorite foods, stores, restaurants and hometown attractions.  In essence, part of the backbone of my identity.

In attempt to neutralize my separation anxiety (and I haven't even left yet), I have packed all my toiletries, first aid items and medications I'll need.  Even though these are replaceable, it is reassuring to me to have my loyal brands.  However insignificant these will be when the culture shock hits or when I reach a specific point on the infamous 'W' curve, I do not know.  Regardless, I actually managed to pack about 550 Q-tips into a quart size ziploc bag.  From my online shopping, I've gathered that beauty products are extremely expensive in Australia.  A tube of mascara is about 21 US dollars.  I guess they perceive and value natural beauty and cosmetic beauty differently.  More on cultural values will come.

The bottom line: one week from today I will have everything in two suitcases, a duffel and a backpack.  I'm not sure if I will be prepared, but I will be packed.