Despite the apparent chaos, I am an anal packer. Everything has to be folded, shoes are wrapped in plastic bags, and weight is distributed equally. Once again, life needs to squashed down to two suitcases, and a 60 L backpack. I haven't minded so much in the past, but this time, I am getting a particularly nice, fuzzy-warm feeling - I'm moving home. For reals.
But I'm not worried about the fate of my traveling dreams and desires. I still have many places to see, weird food to eat, and awkward cultural exchanges to experience slash not understand. Except this time, I will have someone amazing, hilarious and culturally insensitive to share them with. What's that cheesy line they always say at graduations? This is the first day of the rest of your life: December 18th.
If I don't get stuck in the Mexico City airport again. Oh gosh, that was probably bad juju.
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