on not living out of a suitcase

The funny thing about having a blog called “Out of a Suitcase” is when you no longer live out of a suitcase, but rather in a very fixed and stationary life where packing a suitcase is not really an option. Graduation, a job, and the adoption of my Russian family cat has completely rooted me and uprooted 22-ish years punctuated by very, very, fabulous vacations and global adventures, exotic backdrops, and general ‘trotting.’ Now I am lucky to even escape to someone on the Northeast Corridor and not have Kitty crap on my comforter out of spite. It is always funny to get what you finally wanted, and to long again for the other side.

Anyways, I complained about my wanderlust-(ish) conundrum to my father yesterday over our medium of choice, GChat. His response? Talking about his summer plans, talking about my little sister’s arrival to Kiev after her first year of boarding school, noting, “Maybe we’ll take a long weekend trip to W. Europe, Nice, Barcelona. Croatia perhaps?”

Thanks a lot, Dad!

I found this ancient word document from 2006 called “list of countries ive been to” and it was exactly that- a laundry list of countries, first starting with the ones I’d lived in then progressing to countries I’d visited a lot and couldn’t remember, trailing off at the end with one-offs and skeptical “is this a country?” notes (I meant St Maarten). Then I had “countries I want to go to before I am 26” (random age) with a reason why attached. Those were Ghana (cool nytimes article about food there), South Africa (everyone who goes on vacation there says they love it and it apparently it has good shopping), Brazil (never been anywhere in South America and it seems like the coolest), and India (I just want to eat so much Indian food that I explode). Well, yay for me! I went to all of them except Ghana. Maybe I’ll hit up that region eventually, but with my precious fourteen vacation days and the fact I am living hand-to-mouth, I think probably not anytime soon…

BUT: the best part about being stationary is that I can build up my kitchen supplies. I make weird one-dish meals or gigantic holier-than-thou salads and try to keep leftovers. I can ‘assemble’ meals. Nothing brings me more back down to earth than cutting an onion without slicing my finger open. I have a very stocked cupboard and pantry specializing in the joys of 20 something year old girl/lady/woman living, which means two kinds of ice cream, Kraft macaroni and cheese always on hand, and figuring out ways to eat kale everyday without wanting to kill myself or it go bad. However, tonight I fucked up my first meal in a long, long time. I attempted to make turkey meatballs and added an egg and now they look like pussy-at-the-edges meatballs. I am truly embarrassed. 

SO MUCH for a cohesive entry! I’m back y’all!