All I ever want to wear are t-shirts, jeans, and hoodies. There is little to no flexibility in this compulsion; I make for a sorry San Francisco fashionista. Leave me alone, I am content. The newest addition to my uniform is a wedding ring. No, not like that silly. Denise bought me a fake one, just in case I ever need to say something like, 'hey, see the ring? back off!' As if.
Packing for this trip has been wildly stressful. I am a small person, in stature not presence, and clothing doesn't fit right. It's all technical with newly improved hydrological absorption systems that wick away moisture before you even sweat. I have learned that there are no limits to technology and that travel pants must always look dumb.
The piles of stuff sitting on top of my dresser are rather funny. I don't see how this collection is any different from the one I would gather for a trip to New York. Or Los Angeles. Or anywhere. Even though I'm leaping into the future where everything is both backwards and opposite, I think it's going to be okay. After all, don't the fairies help you when there is trouble? Or is it only when you need a dress to the royal ball.
I have been dreaming about traveling to New Zealand since I was 13 and in a few hours I will get on a plane to live the dream. The real is here now. I think. No, wait. Maybe not. I don't know. Are unicorns for real?
There is so much I want to see but nothing more I want to do than breathe. I know, I know, I breathe everyday all the time, what a banal wish for a trip as epic as this one. I might be a small person but I want to take a breathe so big that my exhalation will reverse the space-time continuum.
I am excited to travel 6519 miles to stand at the edge of the Universe.