at the age of 31 i’m still aspiring to be a chic and light traveler. but last night i flew out of SFO wearing yoga pants, a hoodie and keen sandals. like river tourist shoes. because i love them and they’re comfy.
and i was carrying a backpack the size of a 100 year old tortoise shell that stuck out 2 feet from my back.
and then on the redeye i wrapped my velour travel pillow around my neck and jammed in earplugs and covered my eyes with the hello kitty eye mask my mom gave me for christmas. and i promptly fell in and out of sleep for the next 6 hours until i was forced off the plane.
so harsh truth: i will probably never be chic. i like to be comfortable and prepared and wear things that are cute to me and 4 year olds alike. and i’m a dork. always and forever.