My love/hate relationship with carry-ons, but mostly hate.

If you've read any travel book ever, talked to the kind of people who traverse several continents per summer, ever had a bag lost or delayed, or if you are too cheap to pony up an extra $15-$25 for a checked bag, then you probably fall into the "carry on" club. I always get very excited about the carry on club, and then at the last second withdraw my membership and check my bag.

The carry on club is full of the kind of people who meticulously pour their shampoo and face soap into 3oz bottles, and then organize them carefully with their mini toothpaste, mini deodorant, mini sunscreen, and mini contact lens solution into quart size bags. They probably patiently fold and re-fold (or roll an re-roll) their clothes until they fit into a slightly-larger-than-it-should-be but you-can-get-away-with-it "carry on" size wheely bag and then jam their "personal" item backpack full of stuff too. The carry on club knows to put their wheels out when putting their bags in the over head space and they know that you can carry a purse and a backpack IF the purse can fit into the backpack. The carry on club scoffs at bag checkers who have to wait 15-20min for their bag to come down the ramp and knows that getting on the plane first is important if you want to avoid a gate check.

There is nothing wrong with belonging to the carry on club. I'm secretly envious of this travel style. When I read in my now dog-eared Rick Steves travel book the chapter about packing advice, I usually announce to Mark for the eleventh time that I am going to only bring my carry on roller. I get very excited about the notion of rolling through the UK with my two shirts and one pair of pants and no hair products. I think I am a world traveler in the making and ready to be Mrs. Indiana Jones!!!! I am going to be light, free, ready to go at a moment's notice!!! Then Mark smiles and says "Sure hon" with a little bit too much knowing in his eyes. Soon I start to think about lumpy pillows that other people have used and wearing the same shirt every time I see the chemical engineers Mark is collaborating with and I panic.

I enjoy walking onto a plane with a small purse and feeling less claustrophobic for it. I like that I can be one of the last ones on the plane if I have an aisle seat and not worry about finding a spot to put my backpack. And, perhaps most importantly, I like my vacation to feel like vacation. For me that means my own pillow, my hair products, more than one pair of shoes, and enough choices in clothes to not wonder if I'm over or under dressed if we go out to dinner with people I've never met before. I like to feel comfortable enough to not feel stressed or yucky. I like to overpack.

My reasons for justifying a checked bag on a transatlantic flight are fairly sound. First, it's free to check a bag on most international flights. If it's free, it's for me! Also, Mark already has to check due to the logistics of bringing all of his science equipment and not to mention both business and casual clothes for five weeks. Beyond that, we will have a place to stay where I can dump my bigger suitcase and travel much lighter for our little weekend excursions.

However, since Mark already called dibs on our one (read that with me folks, ONE) suitcase bigger than a carry on, I found myself in need of something other than my roller carry on. However, space is at a premium in our apartment and we quite literally did not have a spot to put another biggish suitcase. I mean, really, we store Christmas decorations in one of our kitchen cupboards. Also, as much as we'd love to invest a few hundred bucks in a nice new suitcase, we would much rather spend that money on rail and plane tickets for our weekend in York (details coming soon!)

It turns out that the solution to my luggage dilema was waiting for me a TJ Maxx. It's an Eddie Bauer duffle bag with wheels. Essentially this means I can still unzip it and store it flat in my closet, but stuff it full of things I want to take with me when I undoubtedly overpack and then roll it through the airport instead of lug it on my shoulders. Perfect. Cost? $30. Love it!

So obviously I fall squarely in the checked bag club, where I've been for the last 9 years of my life. So it has been for each trip to and from Seattle/California, so it will be to London. I'm checking my bag, even if it makes Rick Steves cringe. But I might still throw a pair of underwear and a toothbrush in my purse, just in case.