Pack a Bag

what's your dream getaway?

Ojai with Your Lover?

Nature is fun and all, but you prefer elegant salads and flat trails because you hate to sweat. You dress like you rock climb but you’ve never scrambled in your life. You prefer a spa in the great outdoors because wildlife is best enjoyed from inside. You are your truest self in an outdoor bookstore. You’ll browse the pro-LSD self help but never buy. You drink fresh lemon water every morning and if you don’t, you will kill. Who? Everybody. You don’t believe in marriage but you are a monogamy queen. Pillow talk is only fun when the sheets smell of Palo Santo and the ghosts of former TV stars. Robes are your greatest vice. You love a sound bath even though you don’t believe in them. Time out of the city heals. Especially when you’re drinking an oat cortado next to Jon Bernthal.

Long Weekend in Lisbon?

You’re type B and it’s never caused you problems. Your older sister would argue that it has, indeed, ruined many a plan, but you feel good about your low cortisol lifestyle. Like a cat, you relish a nap. You drink olive oil. You never check a bag. You have too many silk handkerchiefs purchased after 2022. Cigarettes are easy come, easy go. No addictive personality here. You make friends wherever you trod. You never had an ugly phase. You believe in fish for breakfast; you saw a reel about oceanic protein and haven’t stopped. If you had to pick up a new language, you say you could. Maybe that’s a lie. Your memory is that of an elephant despite your loose grip on life. Or better yet? Because of it!

Quick Trip to the Catskills?

You spend a lot of time in the W.W.I.U. (woodland woman Instagram universe). You smell good all of the time: part unplaceable musk, part fairy eua de parfum. You are of the Earth and can’t resist a silver bangle. There is no ceiling to your pottery collection; it will always be expanding much like your capacity for love, which is endless. You cherish each and every bowl, mug, and vase like they are your children. And they are. You’ve given them names. You enjoy a rustic cheesecake served to you on a big ass cutting board. Especially when served with lingonberry compote made by a grandmother. You’ll take a blurry picture of it on your old iPhone because the lens is cracked and you don’t really care to fix it. But you sleep well knowing that blurry photo will last a lifetime.

Road Trip to Vegas?

You are a good time gal because life is meant to be enjoyed. The open road is capital “R” Romantic, or so you say. You own a small dog. Despite the stereotype, your small dog is cool and can totally chill at the bar if your guy Tito is working the door. You love a craft cocktail and the occasional magic show. You tried magic yourself once but didn’t get very far. You were actually pretty bad. You don’t have steady hands. You also don’t have a drinking problem. You really don’t. You’d drive with the top down but you’re a little wigged out by some health stuff. Melanoma runs in your family. Best to lather up and be careful. That’s why you love a casino: no sun, day or night. Bottoms up!

Mountain Getaway with Your Parents?

They are your best friends. This is a point of pride. Everybody else is dropping their parents like flies: toxic this, toxic that! Well, not you! You’re the first to admit: you’re not great with boundaries but you get that from your mom. You will work on it. In your circle, you’re the bookworm. The wise one. Material goods do not satiate you. No. You feed off the energy of life around you: nature, good conversations, Youtube vlogs. You’re starting to worry you’ll never find somebody as good as your dad. But you will. Your fortune is turning. You and your mom got drunk off orange wine and did an online tarot pull and that’s what the cards said. Magic 8 ball says you’ll find the love of your life flyfishing.

Staycation in Your Condo?

Making plans scares you. If somebody wants to pin you down for lunch next month, you’ll ghost. Four weeks in advance? Fuckkk that! Commitment has never been your strong suit, hence that slew of bad hookups three summers ago. Remember Jersey Wilson? God. He really was husband material, but the man couldn’t resist a G-Cal invite. It was a disturbing compulsion. Oh well. You miss sleepovers. There was something so exhilarating about saying you’d spend the night at Molly’s and then bailing at the last second to sleep in your own bed. You’re very nostalgic. Wistful, even. Fuck it, you’ll gaze. You dig a home photo album. So retro! That’s why you bought a film camera. Unfortunately, you don’t know how to use it.

Newport Folkfest and Chill?

The parttime vegan. You roll your eyes at Urban Outfitters selling vinyl but you do own a record player from HomeGoods. “It was a gift!” Sure. You think Coachella is overrated. You like a touch of East Coast elitism with your music festivals. Better to ride a sailboat into the harbor than an old Honda out east for 285 miles on the Interstate 10. You wouldn’t be caught dead on Spotify. All Bob Dylan reminds you of that douchebag that broke your heart in college, and yet, when the June summer breeze comes along, you can’t resist the urge to play Blonde On Blonde; you hum as silent tears spill down your cheeks; it hits every time. Your worst trait? You’re a cashew cheese evangelist. It’s not the cashew cheese people have a problem with; it’s how much you talk about it.

Camping in the Sierras Alone?

You rawdog life. Solo travel is your safe place. You drink everything out of a thermos. You own toe shoes. You’re happiest with a can of beans and the sound of crickets by a freshwater pond. You can descale a fish with one hand. Mosquitos don’t scare you. In fact, they are your only friends. You read them your coffee-stained copy of Murder on the Orient Express before bed. In exchange, they spare you of West Nile virus. If left to your own devices, you would shut down the internet and live among the bears. You fuck up a slingshot. There is no wildflower you cannot identify. As long as you have your zip off cargos, you’re good to go. One day, you’ll teach yourself cartography.

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Personally, I’m feeling Staycation x Camping Alone. But I have my Ojai moments. Depends on the day. You?

p.s. i’m considering a monthly advice column where anybody can write in with a question and i will do my best to answer! and by “best”, i mean i’ll give it a whirl. would any of you dear readers be interested? i want to hear from you!

ALRIGHT! the usual: give it a like if you like, send it to your mom, subscribe if you want to make my day, etc.

enough of me. xx