Overpacked is jam packed…

Into a mini…

…with all her university stuff…

So I probably should have posted this before the “I’m at uni” post but you know #YOLO and all that…

Turns out actually getting to uni was going to be much harder than I originally thought.

I packed everything into boxes and suitcases and put them out into the hall ready to be put into the car and it was only then I realised I deserved to have my own segment on “Hoarders”.

I just have so much stuff.

My mum came home from work and blew her top when she saw how much we had to fit in the car, but that only fueled the burning fire in my stomach…I was determined that I’d fit it all in…mainly so she wouldn’t be right…*cough cough*

It was like a giant game of Tetris where I packed each box in with scientific precision based on volume and weight…

Yeah right…actually turns out that I’ve inherited a particularly potent version of the “bunger” gene, which runs through the female line of my family. (See below)

bunger1 [bun-ger] adjective, verb: to bung
Person with uncanny ability to shove lots of crap into a small space where it otherwise wouldn’t fit
Origin:
1830–2013;  origin uncertain

I managed to “bung” my entire life, plus kitchen essentials, into the back seat and boot of an ’03 Mini Cooper.

Like a boss.

Seriously though, I don’t think I’ve ever been so uncomfortable, it was the longest six hours of my life.

I’m still in the process of regaining sensation in my butt.

Unpacked and over ‘ere…

And so finally my homecoming post arrives. It’s only two (okay three) weeks late…did I mention I was a horrific procrastinator?

You might have read my blog post “Dropping Dollar Bill$” when I talked about booking my ticket home, well I actually arrived back in the UK on the 9th of August.

A little part of me did hope for a “Love Actually” style airport reunion. I’d run off the plane to some uplifting, inspirational music (don’t you think that life in general would be much better if we had our own life soundtrack…just think of riding the school bus to Pirates of the Caribbean..da da dum dum da da dum dum da da dum dum da da do do… No? Just me then…), then I’d gracefully leap into my mum’s arms and she would proceed to swing me around, sob and rejoice at my return.

Actually make that quite a big part of me…

As per usual, the reality did not live up to the creative expanses of my mind. We landed on time at Gatwick airport, only to be told that one of the steps were broken and that we’d have to remain on the plane until they could ferry another set over. Cue bitching about the general quality of EasyJet airlines, and the air stewardesses trying to both placate and defend. I did not partake. I flew with Ryanair on the way out and it was relief enough not to hear the *we’ve arrived on time* horns at twelve o’clock at night.

An hour later when we were released from custody, I picked up my bags from the bag drop and had to face the reality of carrying my 17 kilo suitcase and 10 kilo hand luggage round the bloody airport by myself (it should be illegal for airports to have stairs, surely). Once I’d made it out of the maze of passport control desks and travelators, I met my mum and her boyfriend at the lobby where she gave me a big hug, then we walked to the car and I ate a cheese and tomato sandwich.

Well that was riveting…

Anyway here is the exciting part, where we find out whether my blog really does live up to its namesake…

I packed….

26 Tops (assorted)
8 Dresses
8 Pairs of shorts
2 Skirts
5 Pairs of leggings
3 Pairs of trousers
1 Pair of joggers
3 Jumpers
2 Cardigans
1 Swimming costume
1 Tankini
4 Bikinis
1 Pair of swim shorts
2 Beach coverups
2 Towels
8 Pairs of socks
8 Bras
27 Pairs of knickers
1 Pair of running shoes
1 Pair of tennis shoes
1 Pair of flip flops
1 Pair of pumps
2 Pairs of sandals
1  Leather jacket
1 Sunhat
2 Pairs of sunglasses
Toiletries and makeup

I think the answer is yes…

Though I did fit it all into a 15 kilo luggage allowance (10 kilo hand luggage) *pats self on back*.

P.S. I think its quite clear now where I over-did it *cough* tops *cough*, I swear it didn’t seem like that much while I was actually packing…

Dropping dolla bill$…

In case you didn’t know, that’s gangster rap talk for spending money.

And I’ve just dropped a lot of it…in fact, hang on, let me sit down a moment…I’m feeling a bit faint…

Why, oh why, are flights from Spain to London so bloody expensive? It cost me £70 quid to fly out here, including checked luggage, but it’s costing me more than double that to fly back. The flights only 2 hours long so that’s over £100 an hour! I could get…I don’t know…a full body spa treatment at Harrods for less than that!

If I ever become prime minister, or for that matter the worlds #1 villain and all around evil genius (a la Gru in Despicable Me, less the huge nose and Russian accent…don’t you just love the minions?), the first thing I’d do is price fix flights. Lets completely ignore the implications of this on the economy for just a moment, and float away into a dreamland where it costs £70 to fly to Spain and £70 to bloody fly back…look into my eyes, not around my eyes, in my eyes….and you’re drifting…

*Snaps fingers*

Wasn’t that lovely?

I’m going to go cry into my plane food…I guess I’ll avoid the freshman 15 if I can’t afford food at uni…