JessicaRulestheUniverse.com

So I decided that, in line with my recent epiphany, on this trip I would be the opposite of me. I made no plans whatsoever. I didn’t even know what time my flight was until the night before, and I didn’t get my itinerary until I arrived at the airport. I did no research on Seoul, not even the weather forecast; I just packed enough cool-weather clothes for three days. True, I asked a couple of people what there is to do in Seoul. Ricky said, “They have a good Louis Vuitton store”, and Grace said, “Look up Daniel Henney, he’s hot.” Which would really make my trip if (a) I actually shopped LVMH and (b) I knew who Daniel Henney was. I did not pack until a few hours before the trip–usually I pack over a two-week period, in stealth, lest my cats attack my luggage with claws and urine. I didn’t even call the taxi company 12 hours ahead to order a cab to the airport. In short, I took the “Bahala na” approach, which is completely antithetical to my nature. I like to prepare a scenario in advance. Way in advance. Like an invasion. With secondary and tertiary options.

 To my complete shock everything turned out fine and now my world-view is off-kilter. My cats tried emotional blackmail, but gave up after an hour. I found a taxi in time, got to the airport without aggravation, and despite getting to the airport only two hours before my flight (Three is my usual minimum), I got through the queues with enough time to have a snack at the lounge and swipe two issues of The Economist.

We landed in Incheon, took the one-hour airport bus to Seoul, and now I’m in my room at the Hotel Ibis watching Letterman. Nothing untoward happened despite the total absence of best-laid plans. Big deal, you say, so you didn’t do the control freak stuff, that’s how I’ve always lived. How can I explain just how weird and out of character this is for me? I didn’t even bring my own shampoo and conditioner. On my planet that’s what passes for Buddhist-like resignation.