Bottled. Dana Bowman

I didn’t feel maternal or glowing. Just bloated. And very angry with myself.

      Self-directed anger tends not to sit well with me, so I argued with the nearest target instead: my rather clueless and thrilled-about-all-that-water-below-us husband in the seat to my right. And the fights continued, all through the trip.

      “Look, there’s a museum over there about World War II. Cool!”

      “I need to pee.”

      “You do? You just did over at the museum about all the dead people under the city. Again?”

      “I don’t care about World War II. I just need to sit. My hips are widening as we walk. I feel like I’m giving birth right here, for Pete’s sake.”

He eyed me and my hips and looked very unruffled.

      “Dear, it’s impossible to go into labor this early in the pregnancy. Unless, of course, there are complications or something.” As the words left his mouth, I saw it: that slightly befuddled, blank expression he makes when he realizes his inner engineer just said something very cold and clinical, which is about to clash with the overly emotional vat of weeping that is his wife.

      “How could you say that to me? I just can’t believe you would even say such a thing.”

      “I’m sorry. I just meant that—”

      We had now become the battle of the loud talkers. Very Parisian people walked past us and smiled. They were right at home with irritated loud talkers.

      “You do not care at all about my comfort. I am miserable, and all you care about is if we have enough museums stuffed in us by the end of the day. I hate you.”

      “What? You hate me? Really? No. Listen, we’re on vacation.” He gestured around helplessly, to help remind me that we were in a different time zone and all. I sniffled in the background. “I just . . . well it seems to me you’re being just a bit—”

      “Don’t you dare say it!”

      He said it. As the word “over-dramatic” left his mouth, I already contemplated how much it would cost to buy a separate plane ticket home and a separate house to live in when I got there. Brian, who at this point had realized this trip didn’t have “fun-filled vacation” written all over it, fumed off in disgust to look at something about Hitler.

I fumed off to find some place to sit, in the sullen hope that somewhere close by I’d find a gleaming, tacky McDonalds with a large booth, and, of course, an even larger bathroom.

       TOP TEN WAYS TO TRAVEL LIGHT AND STAY SOBER WHILE DOING SO

      1. Sobriety is not a prison cell. Repeat that one million times.

      2. Release all expectations. Release them to your Higher Power, your God, or just scream them into a pillow, if need be. Traveling can be wonderful. Expectations of wonderfulness are not.

      3. Plan ahead. Don’t wing it. Don’t fly by the seat of anything. Know your triggers and plan ahead.

      4. Avoid airport bars. They are triggery and full of people who are, can you believe it, drinking. The gall. Instead, get a Cinnabon. They have fewer calories than four gin and tonics. And ultimately, they’re less embarrassing.

      5. Plan also for failure. You will get lost. You will have a meltdown at the Eiffel Tower because the line is four kilometers long. You will eat snails. It will not go as planned. It is times like these that the Serenity Prayer is really handy.

      6. Sober travel sometimes has to be, well, more expensive. Sometimes, recovery has to trump searching for a cheaper hotel or meal. Rest is crucial. Food is crucial. Not getting angry because your room is the size of a stamp is crucial.

7. However, if the only place you can find to grab a bite is a pub with gigantic, sloshy vats of beer, and everyone in there seems happy and sloshy too, and you start to feel a little bit left out, then pack a lot of food that’s really bad for you, like about sixteen million Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. Get mega packs. Also, keep your phone handy with meaningless games like Candy Birds or Angry Farm or whatever. There will be times of tired waiting and thinking. Stop thinking and numb out with technology and sugar. They’re good for you!