You’d think by now traveling between the US and UK would be old hat for me. I am traveling to Milwaukee for a friend’s wedding soon and have already lost sleep over packing. When Stephen packs for a big trip, he often does it the morning of, expertly folding clothes into his bag in 10 minutes. For me it takes days — sometimes even weeks — to decide what clothing and items to bring. This is always because I declare that I am going to get rid of a lot of my clothes, and by “get rid of” I mean leave them at my Kentucky home. I tell myself I will wear them when I am there and thus will not need to pack so much next time, but it never works that way. Each time I bring more and more back and end up buying more and more that I want to wear instead. Last week I sorted through my closet and piled a mound of “take back” clothes on the bed. “There is no way that is all going to fit in one sub-23kg suitcase,” I thought. So I did what I should have done years ago — I tried everything on. “If you would not walk out the door right now wearing this and feel confident, you are not going to wear this in Milwaukee or Kentucky, and thus it should not take up valuable suitcase space,” I told myself. And just like that half my “take home” pile went into the “donate” bag. I have a problem in which I get too sentimentally attached to inanimate objects, particularly clothing, so for me to get rid of a big pile of it was a big step. And now I can actually see what shirts are in my closet now, and hopefully my suitcase will not be overweight. Just once I would like to go to the airport without overweight bag anxiety — just once!
I accomplished another minor feat this weekend: I did not eat the last xiaolongbao. Let me back up a bit. We went out to lunch in Chinatown. As is customary in Chinatown (and China, for that matter), one must order at least twice as much food as the amount of people in your party should reasonably eat. Each dish we ordered could have been a shared meal in itself, and we ordered 4 of them. During the week I try to eat healthily and count calories, but on the weekend, everything is fair game. Ever since I was little I was taught to clear my plate — that not stuffing yourself after you’re full was someone rude to the cook and to the impoverished children of the world.
I ate way more than I should have at that Chinese restaurant this past weekend, but I still left food on my plate. There was one lone xiaolongbao left — I even went so far as to reach for it with my chopsticks, but I reminded myself that the food was already a sunk cost, and there was no need to make myself feel sick. Let’s face it, I probably should have stopped eating 3 xiaolongbao and 2 ribs earlier, but the fact that I didn’t completely gorge myself shows that I’m making progress. Maybe there’s a chance I won’t gain 5 pounds in America like I always do!