I’m on book tour this week, gang—Michigan, St. Louis and Georgia, with Phoenix, Natick, MA and Fairfield, CT to come the week after. Check the calendar section of my website if you’re interested in coming out to see me. I promise we’ll have fun!
Anyway, I thought I’d tell you about some of the goofy things I do to get ready for traveling as an author.
I panic-pack. Say I’m going away for 36 hours. I generally have enough supplies and clothing to last a week in the Arctic Circle (plus moisturizer to protect against those frigid winds). Last week, when I was going to be away for the day, I packed three outfits, five hair-care products, four pairs of shoes and my bunny slippers.
I beautify. I wrote in a previous post about how I’ll buy any skincare product. Here’s proof: the Hannibal Lecter Facial Beauty Mask. Listen. I want my pores to be squeaky clean for you guys. (Also, I went upstairs and scared Dearest Son with this on. It was just another great moment in motherhood.)
I make McIrish pay. I have this weird agita about going to the ATM. I’ll do it if I have thttp://kristanhiggins.com/wp-admin/post.php?post=1753&action=edit#o, but generally, I ask McIrish seconds before I have to leave, “Do you have any money?” I make sure to sound stressed and panic-stricken so he doesn’t say “Just get some cash at the airport,” and sure enough, it works. He gives me his patented I’m such a great guy look and forks over the cash.
I write my children notes. You know. Just in case the old plane goes down, they have that one last note from me under their pillow (or, now that Princess is in college, on her phone). If possible, I watch a plane crash movie during my flight. I feel that it lessens the odds of said crash. (This makes my mother crazy, for the record.)
I pray. My dad once told me that he said a Hail Mary on every takeoff and landing. He traveled a lot for work. So now that I also travel a lot, I do the same thing. Not because I think that one prayer is going to save me (though it can’t hurt), but because it makes me feel connected to my late father. I like to think that he can see me, his awkward little girl all grown up and with clean pores and mascara, going off with a happy and grateful heart to meet her readers.