Here's what I learned yesterday: packing for a two-week work trip is a lot harder than packing for a vacation.
When you go on vacation, you know you need sightseeing clothes and going out clothes. Some comfortable, and some cute. What I need for this trip is clothes that are comfortable enough for a 16-hour day of shooting, professional enough for meeting with our client and interview subjects, and also cool enough for New Orleans' 90 degree weather. Add in that I have no idea of what, if any, free time I'll have for sightseeing and/or going out, and what I'm left with is basically either everything in my closet, or a brand-new wardrobe.
Brad was no help because 1) he's a guy and 2) he was hungover. His Post-Break-Up Self-Destruction Tour 2010 is still going strong, despite my completely ineffectual nagging and attempts to steer him toward healthier outlets. And Meg is still furious, because Tex has been accompanying him on his beer-and-babe binges. I tried pointing out to her that, if Ben and I were to break up, she'd be my wing woman if I needed one. Her response? "Yeah, but you're not gross. Brad is gross." She confided in me that she's not even sad that Tex is going away for two weeks. She's actually thankful that he's going to be elsewhere with me rather than here with Brad.
After I got done with the worst packing job ever, I suggested Brad and I order pizza. I called Ben to see if he wanted to join us, but he was at the gym and said he'd grab a quick bite before heading over.
"So what are you going to do with me and Tex both gone?" I asked Brad while we waited for the delivery.
"I have other friends, you know. Plus, Derrick is going to be in town all next week."
I had seen on Facebook that Derrick had moved back West awhile back, but Brad and I hadn't discussed it.
"Where's he staying?" I asked.
"Where do you think he's staying?"
"With us?"
"No. With me. You're going to be in NOLA."
I know it's irrational, but the idea of Derrick staying in my apartment bugged me. I couldn't tell Brad that, because they're good friends, and the apartment is just as much Brad's as it is mine. Plus, I'm not even going to be there. It was just the idea of Derrick in MY space that I didn't like.
"He's sleeping on the couch," I said. "Not in my room."
Brad rolled his eyes. "What difference does it make? You aren't even going to be here."
"It makes a difference," I said, suddenly wishing I had a lock on my bedroom door.
Ben arrived just as I was wrapping up the leftover pizza, and we started looking for a movie to watch. A commercial for "The Last Exorcism" came on.
"That's still out?" I asked.
"Yes," Ben said. "And I still want to see it."
I made a face. "It will probably be out of theaters by the time I get back. You should see it without me."
"I'll go see it with you next week," Brad offered. "I've been meaning to ever since it came out."
Ben and Brad started comparing schedules, and decided on Wednesday night. I made a joke about their man-date, but I was worried and annoyed. What if Derrick goes with them? What if they all go out all night afterward and get totally wasted? There are a lot of what-ifs running through my head.
I am so not into Ben and Brad (and potentially Derrick) hanging out while I'm gone.
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Bedroom BlogK. is Cosmo's fictional blogger, a twenty-something chick who works in television. Here K. dishes about her sexy (and sometimes dramatic) dating adventures.
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