I Thought I Was Ready

If you look under my bathroom sink, somewhere between the mountain of plastic containers holding tons of hair products, lotions, and things I have no idea what they are, or why I have them, you'll see filled gallon sized baggies.

In those baggies are just about every toiletry item I need for a motorcycle trip. There's, you know, normal stuff like fingernail clippers, Q-Tips, a small container of baking soda for brushing my teeth (tooth paste makes me gag, I mean really, really gag to the point of throwing up gagging), travel sized Dial Shower Gel, an extra contact (yes, "an" as in one, I only wear one contact. I use one eye to read and one eye to for distance), contact lens solution, etc.

The idea being that all I have to do when I'm packing for a motorcycle trip is throw the baggie in the suitcase and I'm ready to bolt. There are a couple of things that aren't in the baggie: a shower scrubby, hair brush and blow dryer. I usually throw those things in the morning of the trip.

The first night of the trip last weekend I got to the hotel hot and tired, ready to jump in the shower and get off the road grime. I got the body wash, the razor, the shampoo and the, wait, it's wasn't there! The sacred scrubby! I'd forgotten the damn scrubby!

How in the hell does one get CLEAN without a scrubby? It's the greatest invention EVER made, well besides Christian Louboutin stilettos, and I FREAKING forgot it! I was reduced to using the very un-diva like hotel wash cloth.

You can always tell they're Christian Louboutin by the inside of the heel being red. Heavenly.

Have you ever tried to get a hotel wash cloth to lather up? Have you ever thought about exactly WHAT else those wash clothes have washed, or attempted to wash? I don't care if the hotel's laundry service leaves them in a vat of bleach for hours on end, the entire thing is creepy. It's like lying on the hotel bedspread that you know is never cleaned. The very bedspread that other disgusting, dirty people have done disgusting, dirty things on. Why did I even write that? I feel all gaggy now. I digress.

I had no choice but to try to use the stinkin' hotel wash cloth. At that point the road grime was more of a disgusting thought to me than the wash cloth. After washing and conditioning my hair I reached for the dreaded poor excuse for a body cleaner. I wet it and applied the bath gel. No lather, no damn lather. How in hell am I supposed to get clean? By this time I know I'm going to need a xanex, I mean, I don't do dirt. Sweat from working out I can handle, for a short time, but dirt? No EFFIN' WAY!

I did my best and even though the wash cloth was covered with road grime, I still felt dirty. D.I.R.T.Y. I tell you!


Oh well I was to be home soon and my heavenly scrubby would be awaiting me. I guess it's a small price to pay for being able to ride in the wind in such a beautiful place as Oregon.

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