I seriously love prepping for trips away from home with Ben because he’s just so absolutely fucking clueless about how to pack a suitcase. There’s me, the person who never takes less than two outfits for each day she’ll be away from home and who can fold even the bulkiest sweatshirt into a perfect little square, and then there’s him, dumfounded, looking at me like I’m a sorceress for being able to zip up my luggage while he just stands there staring at a pile of wadded up t-shirts like


"what are packing?"

"how to clothes?"