How to Prepare as Poorly as Possible for Studying Abroad - Part 4:

Right before you leave, develop the crack-ass notion that bringing 40 travel-sized tubes of toothpaste and shampoo is a more economical approach to hygiene than bringing one, normal sized container of each.

On August 26, the day before I left, I went to CVS to purchase a semester's worth of toiletries because America is still the preeminent manufacturer of personal hygiene products. This not only means that quality dob kit essentials are considerably cheaper in America, but it also means that, generally speaking, Europeans smell worse than Americans. This is not just a xenophobic stereotype perpetuated during in the freedom-fries administration; the chances of me spending more than 2 hours outside of my room without roasting in someone else's B.O. are negligible, but I guess rampant funk is supposed to be part of the whole European "experience."

Experience be damned, I will not compromise my standards of hygiene, which, admittedly, are fairly particular.

Fine, I'm a slave to the American personal hygiene manufacturing industry. I have my brands, and I stick to them; I don't think I am alone, but I am probably a little crazy.

In all non-hygiene related facets of my consumerism, I'm willing (often eager) to look beyond marketed national brands to the much maligned store-brands (except for in the cases of Oreo's, Sweet Baby Ray's Barbeque Sauce, Heinz ketchup, and Peter Pan Creamy Peanut Butter, but otherwise, I will choose the less expensive alternative).

Mountain Dew isn't on sale? Your finest case of Mountain Breeze, then, my good man. A pitcher of Tide for $13.99? You're might as well put "go buy a $4.99 bottle of Trend at a bodega" on the label. Dorito's? Alright, yeah, I'll pay premium for Dorito's, but if you think I'm gonna compensate for that premium by trimming two dollars off my monthly shampoo budget with generic-ass Dandruff Shampoo instead of Head & Shoulders 2-in-1 Classic Clean, then you can get right out of town. Because I'm not. Not once, not twice, not ever. (Misters Procter or Gamble, if you're reading this and you wanna work out a promo deal in exchange for a lifetime supply of Old Spice, I am all ears; it'd be the least I can do considering the great service you provide to all us dry-scalped, sweaty guys).

Anyway, CVS; August 26, 2010; dusk.

I gazed at the travel miniatures section for 5+ minutes twice in half an hour contemplating whether or not to follow through on my impulse to buy a shitload of travel miniatures because I think things that are the smaller version of what I'm used to seeing are amusing (I assume this same principle applies to midgets).

At the end of my first round of consumer deliberation, I decided to acquire a humble amount of Colgate and Pert minis (they were out of H&S), correctly perceiving that a small collection would facilitate dandruff-free and minty-fresh travel around Europe. Miniatures in-cart, I walked away from the travel section.

10 or 15 minutes later, I stood in the exact same position staring blankly at the bins, mentally computing the price and quality discrepancies between the Crest Extra White Plus Scope and Colgate Total 24 Hour Protection. 

"Each Colgate is 10 cents cheaper, but the Crest has Scope, so maybe I'll save money in the long-run by cutting down on mouthwash expenditures."

"Crest is blue and green; green and blue things come from the ocean; the ocean is good; Crest is good."

"I bought those normal sized tubes of Crest Pro-Health during a buy-2-get-1-free event two years ago and since then I've had to squeeze through a seemingly bottomless supply of turquoise, sandpapery crap that Crest deems beneficial to my health."

"Stick with Colgate. Ehh, a few more to be safe. Ok, fifteen more. Get ten more Pert, too. Ohh, mini Listerine!! I did not see that before; I'll buy five."

The next thing I know I'm dumping a Tonka truckload of dwarfen tubes and bottles on the check-out counter and the clerk wants to light me on fire because he has to scan all 45 items individually. He was also probably very confused as to why I limited my purchase of shampoo, toothpaste, and mouthwash to containers with sub 3 ounce capacities. That's something I'm still trying to figure out for myself.

I've used and disposed of quite a few more than these since I arrived. Only recently did I start packratting empty minature toothpaste tubes for blogging purposes.

Word to the wise, if you're getting ready to study abroad, don't do this.

For a number of reasons; chronologically:

1) You look like a real asshole in the check-out line.

2) In order to save space, you have to sprinkle the miniatures throughout your baggage, which means you have to collect them like change on the ground when you unpack. I'm pretty sure there are still a few insurgent tubes hiding out in the dark corners of my suitcase. 

3) [Number 1 on the importance scale] You have to cycle through a new tube every 4 fucking days. And cycling is not just a matter of out with the old, in with the new. In a good week, I might get 4.5 brushings out of a mini-tube of Colgate, and I have to bust my ass for 2.5 of them. Essentially, you're in the final 5%, squeeze-and-spiral stage of a normal toothpaste tube every week. And you don't even get to enjoy the low-pressure luxury of a fresh tube because it runs out three days later.

4) All of your tubes eventually run out and can't be replaced because this beautiful, dangerous concept has not yet reached the Czech Republic. This means that when you travel you either have to, a) panhandle for toothpaste, b) use an unfamiliar Euro brand, or c) buy into the European experience and abstain from oral hygiene for a weekend.

I leave for Copenhagen in less than 12 hours; I'm still undecided on the toothpaste dilemma, but I know I'm gonna prance around and celebrate life.

3:26 - Super Cool!