I hate packing

I really do. Even if I'm packing for something fun, and I am. (That would be CALIFORNIA! In THREE DAYS!) It's still a pain.

I did unearth my travel journal, though, and I've been looking through it. Michelle gave it to me before my first trip abroad, which was Sweden in 2000. I didn't write in it then, but I began early the next year when Lindsey and I visited Michelle in Berlin. For awhile I remembered to take it on almost every vacation. Then I graduated college and started traveling more for work and pleasure. I forgot the journal often, and when I did remember, it turned into more of a rock tourism journal than a simple travel journal ... with some other trips mixed in. I'm hoping to start steering it away from that, since that wasn't my original intent. Anyway, concert-related anecdotes just seem incongruous next to tales of the fresh air in Siberia and canyons of Utah.

I came across an entry from May of 2001, when a friend and I found ourselves on Route 66 near Seligman, AZ. I'm really excited about California, but part of me is still a little sad not to be doing the Route 66 road trip. I shall do it someday, though. I hope someday soon.