I was a Girl Scout for two years, after paying my dues as a Brownie in that ugly brown jumper. From being lost in the woods to selling cookies, I know how to prepare for any situation.

Before our den mother was let go amid a scandal involving misappropriation of arts and crafts monies, I learned many valuable lessons.

Unfortunately, I never learned how to pack a suitcase. I believe in preparation, but my luggage has its limits.

I have been that annoying traveler whose bag is so overstuffed that it spills open the moment it hits a conveyor belt, revealing panties, embarrassing souvenirs and -- more devastatingly -- my inability to pack well.

Some years and columns ago I wrote about being a packrat, hoarding every item I've ever owned, expecting to either use it again or not being able to part with it because of an impractical emotional attachment.

Take that packrat on the road and overhead compartments scowl.

With a European trip at hand, I'm ready to get it right this time. I'm on a quest for the perfect packing job.

I'm not going to be the woman staring blankly at that sparkly top that matches nothing wondering why I ever thought to pack it in the first place.

"Maybe we'll find an all-night disco and this will be the best fit" is what I probably thought, even though I can't imagine dragging Jack to a disco in the first place.

I'm not going to bring so many shoes that I risk surpassing the 50-pound luggage weight limit or require an additional bag to fit them all.

Not this time.

Before the Internet, I'm sure many travel books instructed vacationers what to bring. Luckily, I only have to Google "perfect packing list" to be on my way.

Like the "perfect pancake maker" that serves up mediocre hot cakes, the checklists failed to meet my needs.

The most practical definitely covered the bare minimum I'd need to survive, but it doesn't allow room for my mood swings.

What am I going to feel like wearing? If I'm bloated, those slim-fitting pants aren't going to cut it. If I pack an outfit I recently wore, I might be bored of it by the time I get to my destination.

That's how I used to think. Now it's time to bear down and just go with what I've got, even if I sacrifice my overall look a bit. I learned how to build a fire with nothing but a shoelace, so I can certainly survive a weeklong vacation with a basic wardrobe.

Using an online list as a guide, I begin building my list, mapping out potential outfit combinations so I could maximize my pieces, eliminating tops and bottoms that only go with one other item, limiting myself to two pairs of shoes and considering the somewhat unpleasant option that underwear can be washed in a sink if necessary.

Just when I think I have it figured out, the weather shifts and I'm sent back to the packing board. Will my winter coat be too cumbersome? Should I aim for layers instead? Do I even have time to wash those pants before we leave?

And then it hit me: Perfection should play no part in my packing. I can only do my best to meet my potential needs in the most economical way.

When I step off the plane, anything can happen. The perfect vacation is truly nothing without the little surprises, no matter what I'm wearing.

If all else fails, a Girl Scout uniform goes with just about everything.

Laura Lewis Brown is an adventurous newlywed who has loved, lost and doesn't mind sharing. Her column appears every other Thursday.