Speaking of drinking and European sex (and who cares if it's exactly what we were talking about, let's indulge!), I am both packing and drinking a Seabreeze. (This liquor ain't just going to evaporate out of the apartment. Is it? Because if it is, I'd better drink faster.)
This packing for a backpack stuff? Hard. I keep being tempted to bring things that are cute rather than serviceable. Shoes, I can deal with. I think I'm going to bring my Tevas for just about everything, then a pair of regular old flip-flops. I figure, they can be used for showers or to look sassy if nessecary (Because I'm skanky like that.)
But, must I really say no to one satin cami? If it gets wrinkled enough, it looks like it's supposed to be that way! What if I go to a pub and there is a pretty Irish/Italian/Swiss/French boy? And I can roll up my little khaki skirt until it takes up just about no room at all!
Of course, once there, the real problem with the Irish/Italian/Swiss/French boy is not turning into that girl who flips over the accents. I don't want to be that girl. (I so am.)
Me: Be cool be cool be cool.
Dude: 'Allo.
Me: Let's make out.