Getting manic over Europe

So, in about a month, I’ll be in Europe for the first time ever. I am so excited by this prospect that I have (more than once) been in fear of the top of my head actually blowing off. Local paramedics have been informed, and the brother’s number, saved in my cell phone, is now labeled “ICE” in case of this occurring.
The second symptom of this approaching adventure is that I cannot seem to stop gushing about it, to anyone in my nearby vicinity who seems even moderately likely to listen. The other day I was approached by a nice bible-thumping boy with pamphlets on letting Jesus into my life, and I told him I didn’t need one- I am going to Europe instead. I think he was confused, but then the bus came and I escaped.
I am worried, however, about over-saturating my friends with talk of my trip, as they are those most often in my vicinity, and those I consider most likely to keep listening to me go on and on about things they don’t care about. If I was a very good friend, then I think I would make a chart of every friend I have, and ensure that I only see each one once from now until I leave, in order to spare them from the agony of my excited gushings. However, I am not that good a friend. Besides, it’s too much fun discussing these things ad nauseum. I have already gotten into a heated discussion (the fun kind of argument) over whether kissing the Blarney stone is too touristy to warrant doing, and is in fact an activity so stereotypical that it should be actively shunned, or whether it is a very much clichéd act so deeply ingrained in Irish tourism that it cannot be missed, lest one risk a less than completely authentic Irish tourist experience. Please note that Blarney is indeed on my list, though I will add that I am interested in the entire castle, as well as nearby Cork, where we will be staying, which is supposed to be beautiful and have a pub that was once owned by a witch.
Blarney is just one of the five castles on my list, six if you count Newgrange as a castle, which you shouldn’t, but my gushing has unearthed the interesting fact that far fewer people have ever even heard of Newgrange than I would have thought. This fact is a vaguely mind-boggling one; it’s older than the pyramids, people!
Another facet of my excitement has manifested itself in an old classic (for me); the infinite and detailed planning bit. You’ve already heard about the minor wardrobe freakout (to leggings or not to leggings; this issue has been finally resolved by the sage advice of one of the Robins: keep everything, buy more). Leggings crisis averted, it has been followed by a myriad of further queries: do I need a money belt, do I need a dress, do I need an electrical adapter, do I need two pairs of shoes (or three, or four?), do I need an umbrella…do I need to pack light, which bag (or bags) do I bring…this list has quickly become endless. I went researching online (my tried and true method of preparing for things), and I found what I thought was a very good site. It gave what sounded like much practical advice, including: pack light, only take a carry-on so that you don’t have to wait for the luggage to come off the plane, there is less risk, your stuff is always in your sight so it’s safe, and nothing will hold up your adventures. This site also suggested leaving space in your bag for souveniers (always a good idea in my book). Then it suggested bringing, along with clothes and toiletries, everything from ear plugs and electrical adapters to corkscrews and candles and window cleaner. Thank you for nought but added confusion, o contradictory website!
My list-making phase has begun. The Mom will readily agree that I am an avid list-writer, especially when planning an away-from-home adventure. I currently have three lists on the go, though I am proud to say that the lists are all still on paper, and my manic-ness has yet to progress to the insanity that is excel spreadsheets…though I know I will get to that point, I always do. (It’s moments like this that I admit that that person in University who called me anal was right. At the time the claim was incomprehensible: anal? ME???)
I did keep reading the list of ironic and contradictory tourist tips. It said one thing that rang true:
“The biggest mistakes that tourists make: packing too heavily, relying on outdated guidebooks, not wearing a money belt, and taking other people's opinions too seriously. Happy travels!”
I’m probably going to ignore at least two of the first three items in that list. But the fourth is pretty good advice, I thought.

Postscript on a totally unrelated subject: I got the new Death Cab for Cutie CD on Friday. It is painfully awesome, and if you have not laid hands or ears upon it, you should. You, in fact, must.

Somehow, Ireland turned into leggings...

So, I'm going to England, and Ireland.

Been talking to the England Aunt and Uncle, and promised them I'd do some research into where to go, particularily when it comes to Ireland.

Okay- big woot! So, I plan the busiest of days Saturday, first buying stone to feed my new carving habit, then hitting the Toronto Bead Society spring show (one day only), then burying myself in a bookstore (literally- I was there for more than three hours). After reading for three hours, about driving tours and hiking paths, and cities and several dozen monasteries, churches, burial sites, ritual sites, yadda yadda, one's mind starts to wander. Mine wandered onto the subject of what to wear in Ireland (must be comfortable, though I really ought not to live my entire life in jeans, no matter how much I might want to). And then I look up and there's this girl in leggings...and even though I thought I hated leggings, I'm suddenly remembering how Laur told me they were the comfiest things to wear...

So I'm still a little unclear how, but now my Ireland research has become a hunt for leggings. I'm in a mall, so I go down a level, and leggings are surprisingly easy to find. I also find a piece of clothing that can't quite be called a shrug- it's more like sleeves, attached in the back. And it's good cause it means I can wear that to dress up (and make warmer) tank tops for the office, etc. Buy those and then meet friends for dinner...whatever, the day ends, you get the gist.

So then it's Sunday, and I'm hunting though the pile of packages from the day before, and I have a bag of stones, a bag of beads, and leggings and sleeves- not anywhere near a wearable outfit. Not to mention, I check my closet, and sure enough- the sleeves that are meant to go with tank tops are going to be pretty lonely, cause I have no tank tops. And the leggings that are supposed to go with...this is when I realize I not only have nothing that leggings go with, I actually have NO IDEA what leggings go with.

So tonight I drag my friend Dani out shopping. We turn the eatons centre upside down. Nothing that goes with leggings falls out. I'm seriously starting to doubt my leggings revelation.

Planning to give them one more try, at another mall, tomorrow. If it's a no-go then, well, the store I bought the leggings from is in that mall, too. I'll just return them, and go back to reading about Ireland in the bookstore. Maybe my next revelation will be about capris or something.