What I Packed for Brooklyn

Sitting on a plane bound for JFK taking inventory of my suitcase. I packed in a hurry and I'm panicking.
  1. Fringed Buckskin Jacket
    I have a terrible time leaving Montana, I'm truly rotten at it. The Crow Indians believed their native souls would be stolen when they were photographed. I fear my native identity will go POOF the minute I crack a smile at Soho House. This jacket reminds me of where I'm from whilst also allowing me to completely lose myself in that thing they serve with the berries and the merengue.
  2. 7 white lace Edwardian blouses
    Could be cool, like REALLY cool. Sadly all items in the "undergarment" category are still sitting on my coffee table, where I put them so that they wouldn't, couldn't, be forgotten. I just have one military grade full- compression black sports bra. Sheer antique lace atop black spandex breast brick is not so cool.
  3. One pair scissors
    These are for giving myself a haircut once I arrive, because I want to look nice for my husband. Unfortunately I forgot to book a hair appointment, for the last several YEARS, and i will do what I always end up doing, which is cutting it myself in front of a bathroom mirror, or a rearview mirror, or my iPhone camera. At first glance it might seem cool that I cut my own hair except for the fact that it really just means I am wildly disorganized and usually have bad hair.
  4. Tampons
    Mind you these are the contents of my CHECKED bag. Good thing my menstruation craft skills are on fleek and the cabin lavatory is stocked with plenty of scratchy TP. I will spend the last hour of the flight having anxiety about what might happen when I get up to disembark.
  5. Dashiell Hammett's Red Harvest
    One of my favorite books about Butte Montana. For my husband. Who EXPRESSLY instructed me to not worry about the book and concentrate on what I was going to wear because "honey, you know what always happens." Here is what always happens, just in case my terrible packing gives the impression that I'm one of those "too cool to give a fuck" types- upon unpacking I realize I don't have anything to wear, I unravel, I make declarations like "I don't belong here!" and beg to go home.
  6. Metamucil, Align, Senna, cigarettes
    Pretty self explanatory
  7. A sweatsuit I bought at Costco yesterday.
    I'm wondering if this truly regrettable purchase (I was high on free samples) could maybe read as ironic or whimsical in DUMBO. God I hope so- it's really comfy.
  8. Hot Rollers
    My mother always had hot rollers in her hair and a Salem Light 100 in the corner of her mouth. For me the look was pure glamour (not the final look, but the look of hair in rollers, because I never saw her out, only getting ready) so when I go to a place that makes me want to feel glamorous, I pack a giant plastic box of plug-in rollers.
  9. My Clarisonic face scrubber
    Traveling makes my sinuses hurt- after I get settled tonight I will stand in the shower holding this backwards against my face until there's drainage.