Day 1: Courtney in Roanoke

Our first stop was to see Courtney in Roanoke,VA.

It took us two hours longer than expected to get there, partly because instead of driving around the city, Marcus decided to go through the heart of Baltimore to get tacos for lunch. They were pretty damn good tacos, but with them, we ate up a chunk of time as well. 

Courtney took us to Wasena Tap Room where we could order unlimited amounts of flights. I had pineapple cider because Courtney described it as feeling like "you're in Spongebob's house". It was the sweetest coder I've ever had, but good nonetheless. 

She took us to the top of Mill Mountain to see the Star. Roanoke, Courtney told us, originally was called the Big Lick, then Roanoke. It's nickname is the Star City. 

It was sad to say goodbye to I'm glad we got to see her for a short time. I pulled away after saying goodbye and said to myself I hope we are friends for a very long time. 

Day 2: Nashville livin'

We've been to Nashville once before, but I was not old enough to drink or enter the bars. I only remember seeing the bachelor and bachelorette parties filling the street.

We arrived this time around dinner, showered and went to Blackstone Brewery for Texas burgers and flights of beer. The APA was our favorite, by the way. 

We went to find parking and ended in a lot that costs $15 a day. As we were making our way to the pay station, an older couple yelled from the side walk if we wanted their fully paid ticket. We gladly accepted. That's southern hospitality. 

Broadway is where all the action happens; bars with neon signs lighting the entire block.

We walked to the strip and landed ourselves in the first bar that caught our eye because it met all of Marcus's qualifications: no female singers and no solo country singers. Robert's Western World fit the bill. It was fantastic. The atmosphere, the people, and the music made it a great night. 

The next morning we shopped for entirely too long in a vintage guitar shop and walked around, finding ourselves eating at food trucks in the Pride festival. We tried on cowboy boots, and I was way too tempted to buy them.

Nashville is one of the most fun cities I've been to. I texted my best friend and told her "we need to get ourselves to Nashville ASAP." 

Three days till Thursday

Roanoke
Nashville
Memphis
Lake Pontchartrain
New Orleans
Panama City Beach
Savannah
Virginia Beach

We had to cut our Dallas because of the rain. One day I'll get to the grassy knoll.

Our Southern Style road trip kicks off in T-minus 3 days.
Preparations have been made and my car has been packed for two days. We've made our trips to the store and trips to our laundry room, making last minute efforts to shove as much as we can into our suitcase.
This trip is different than the last– more relaxed. We know (for the most part) what we are in for. We survived 21 days in the "wilderness" last time, 11 days should be cake. We aren't cocky, we aren't nervous. We am ready to hit the road and explore the states, and as always, I am ready to explore myself. The open road, as so many cliches go, allows for you to think about things like you couldn't do normally. Where I want to be, where I want to go, who I want with me. These things, I am sure, will be in and out of my mind while I pass mile marker after mile marker on the highway.
So, like I do with most trips, I plan on clearing my head of all the negativity and all those filling it with negativity, and instead, fill it with the wonder of cultures and landscapes different than my own. (Thats the anthropologist in me). I want to take in all that the cities are.

On the Road Again...

Four years ago, I had a wild idea to drive across the country. Luckily, my brother saw my vision and trusted me enough to tag along. After countless hours of planning predicting packing and preparing, we set out on a journey of a lifetime. We traveled for 21 days throughout 21 states seeing everything from prairies and mountains to oceans and rivers. We saw the presidents set in stone, the home of the King, and the rocky cliffs of the Pacific. We laughed, bonded, and fought. But the one thing that was constant was our unwavering sense of being fortunate. We sensed that this was a once in a lifetime journey, dreamed of perhaps taking our families on a trip like this when we are older. We hoped to take another road trip to other parts of this beautiful country, and I am happy to announce that in less than 20 days, we will. We are packing up the jeep again and heading out on the open road to see the sights and hear the sounds on our Southern-Style Roadtrip. From the bars of Nashville to the noles of Dallas, the French quarter of New Orleans to the weeping willows of Savannah. 

We begin our journey just as we did the other, with a crazy vision in a girl's head, but hey, don't all good things start that way?

Culture shock

     We arrived in San Jose. The weather was beautiful, and the people were sweet. But I didn't realize how much of a shock it was going to be to my system to travel to a completely unknown part of the world. I've never been South of Florida. And also haven't travelled in almost two years since I arrived home from London. So I don't think I gave myself any room for adjusting to a new environment again. 

     Traveling is the only thing I think I am truly good at in this world. The planning and preparation and the traveling itself are things I live for. So to arrive in a foreign country and be completely side swiped by the culture, the noise, the hostel, and the drunken hostel roommate, is a little much for my system to handle at one time. 

     The only cure for that is to just move on. Go to the next stop along the way and hope it's a better fit for me. We go see some sloths today. If that doesn't cheer me up, I don't know what will. 

Leaving America? Maybe

     We woke up at 3am. There was a 2.5 hour drive ahead of us, and we wanted ample time to have breakfast, go through security, and relax at the airport bar (at Doug's request).

     Everything went smoothly. We were only 5 minutes late leaving the house. We didn't hit traffic and 3 of us caught a little nap in the car. Poor Mal had to survive on coffee. 

     We get to the airport and we should have foreseen the upcoming issues. One, we were flying in the worst airport I have ever been to. Flying in from Newark on Saturday was my first Fort Lauderdale experience. I was in and out quickly, so I did not have time to take it all in. When we returned this morning, I wanted so desperately to be in any other airport than the one we were currently waiting in. The people, the attitudes, the crowds, and the chaos. Woof. And two, we were flying on Spirit. The cheapest, most frustrating budget airline available. They charge for everything, including checking in at the counter- that's $10. What we didn't foresee were the complications with flying into Costa Rica and flying out of Panama. We needed to prove that we were getting to the latter on some form of transport that was suitable for the Costa Rican government. 

     Mal and jimmy had no problem. They breezed right through with very little questions... Doug and I, however, needed to prove that we were taking a shuttle from CR to Panama. Of course, our paperwork wasn't good enough, and the manager was called over. I was beginning to get mad. Because I had a flash of what the next few days were to be if I was not allowed on this flight. We would be stuck in Florida because of this massive blizzard in the north, and I would be out $415 for the flights.

We persevered and explained everything to the agents and their supervisor, and were eventually able to secure a boarding pass and head through security. 

     I don't mean to bore anyone with that story. I just want everyone to know what I didn't know. I was unaware that I would need to prove anything to the airline agents because I had a return flight booked. Yes, it was a from a different city, but I was returning to America in 10 days. So moral of the story... Make sure you have all plans figured out before leaving. And have all of those plans printed out. And on top of that, have emails ready to show on your phone. It was scary because we weren't sure if we'd get on. But Doug was calm and had his papers printed and luckily I printed mine last night. Preparedness is key. 

     Now we hover over some Caribbean islands on our way to blue skies, crystal waters, smiling sloths, and coconut drinks. 

     I got secretly and surprisingly upgraded to the first row of the plane. So I had plenty of room to stretch. It was great. My cousins were jealous. Seat 1A all the way. 

Part one

     We have made it to Florida. Mal and Jimmy drove through the night, and I flew, leaving the ice and snow in New Jersey once we de-iced. Doug already lives here so he had the easiest Saturday. 

     We leave for part two of our adventure on Monday. I flew into 73 degrees in Fort Lauderdale and will be leaving that for 78 in San Jose. This is a much welcomed, much anticipated, much prayed-for change in weather. Some vitamin D will do my soul good this week. 

     To all those snow birds I left behind, I hope you have an easier time with it in the days to come. May the weather be fair and the degrees be higher than normal. 

New Year, New You?

If you don't want to read a girl's sob story, then skip this one....

     It took me 6 days to write an (what I think to be) obligatory New Years post. To be honest, I hate New Year's Eve. It is depressing, being the night that makes you aware of how unglamorous your life is. It never quite lives up to the hype. Perhaps its the years of Hollywood glamorizing the night, making it always seem like something to be desired, a night for the record books. It is always disappointing and acts as a reminder of the fact that you aren't where you want to be in life and unless you change dramatically in 364 days, you will undoubtedly be in the same spot the following year. What I chose to do that night, let my mom take me to the casino to sit in front of a slot machine...resulting in my $200 win to start the new year.

     I ended the last precious days of 2014 with tears running down my face, collecting in puddles on my bed; soaked tissues scattered in front of me like amateur origami. I forced myself to get out of bed, to shower, to have a routine. The rug was ripped out from under me; I was down.
     But 2014 wasn't always unhappy. There were times that I wouldn't trade for the world, moments that still make me smile, but unfortunately, with that happiness, now comes a pang in the pit of my stomach and a pressure in my chest.  I learned things that I don't think I can or will appreciate until after the storm passes. I experienced something that I had never before, a simple four letter word that swallows you whole and turns your world upside down. Yes, right now it seems like 2014 was a year of sadness, but it wasn't that at all. I cannot let the last week put the stamp on an entire year.
     I began 2015 with a forced optimism, that day after day becomes less forced and more adopted. I promised myself that this year will be better than the last (few days of 2014, that is), and if not better, then different. I have goals for 2015. I want it to be a year of discovering the world and discovering more of who I am. I owe it to myself to do everything I can to make this year my best yet...isn't that what the New Year is all about?

Planning is in full swing...

     I texted my cousin Doug on November 22..”Hey Doug. Would you want to go on a trip with me sometime in January? I’ve been trying to plan something”. It was true, I was trying to plan a trip with little success. It was complicated. I wanted to go somewhere, anywhere. But the companion was always the issue. I would ask friends to go, but the timing was always off, or the money was always too tight for both parties. My friends still had classes to attend and I had a job that paid next to nothing. So how was I going to ever get somewhere? Then my mom suggested I ask my world-traveling cousin to embark on a journey, and his response? “Ugh, yes!” 
     So a month later, we have flights booked, hostels planned, and some activities mapped out. After some discussion, brainstorming, and research, we decided on Costa Rica and Panama, the Panama Canal being the major allure. 
We asked our other cousin Mallory to come and after her own research and arguments with her fiancé, Mallory and Jimmy will be joining us. 

     Sometimes its the trips that spring up that are the most fun and fulfilling; there is no time for over analyzing and complications.

*cough* *cough* Is this thing on...

     Hello everyone...did you miss me? I have been missing in action for several months, but am excited to be posting again and ready to take on another adventure...

     It has been over two years since embarking on my life-changing study abroad journey in London, and I have missed the exhilaration of travel. My life has changed much since stepping off the plane in Newark returning home. I graduated college, worked a full-time job and subsequently quit, found myself a boyfriend, and luckily kept in contact with the amazing friends I met while over the pond. 

     I have not lost the itch to travel, dreaming of places to go and people to meet, but the lack of funds has hindered my chances of going anywhere substantial. Weekend trips here and there have kept me busy, but the hopes of spending a week or two in a foreign land have never subsided. 

So all of these months later, I dust off my blog to document my next journey. A trip that serendipitously sprang to life. 

Ladies and Gentleman, I am going to Central America...

I am writing again...and thinking about life

     I think about London every day since arriving home. I think about it while I am at work, driving, before I go to bed, in the shower, watching television. I think about longing to be with my friends, and I think about going out every night, but most of all, I think about how desperately I want to move to that city. I have only discussed this seriously with a few people. I fear that if I tell certain people, they will shoot the idea down and have a pessimistic view on the subject. I do not respond positively to pessimism. I am a realistic optimist, as I like to say, and pessimistic realists do not spark realistic thoughts in my mind, but act as a wildfire, eating away at my hopes until there is nothing left but miles and miles of ash and I begin to doubt myself. No, this is not a subject to open up for discussion with everyone. I need to figure this out for myself with the help of a select few who will give me the truth, but also help me find other solutions and options.  I need to make a game plan of sorts in my mind. If I am to move to London, I need to think of the basics: shelter, food, work, and survival. I know, deep down, that I can make it on my own. If I want it bad enough, I will pool all of my resources and fulfill the dream. This dream is not different than studying abroad, just on a larger scale. Studying abroad was something I had wanted to do since hearing about it, probably around the time I started high school. I made that dream come true with dedication and concentration; this will be the same. It takes a bigger leap, of course, but the reward will be even greater. I have an ache in my heart and the only way to cure it is to return to that country. Do I need to return to London? I would love to, but one option I have been entertaining is perhaps moving to a smaller city within an hour of London so as to save money and have a more "home" experience, avoiding the hustle of the big city. If I move to Oxford or Brighton, for example, I am still only an hour and a half train ride from the heart of London, and I save money on rent, groceries, transportation, beer, entertainment, etc. It would offer me a way to meet more Brits and perhaps fulfill my dream of marrying one, maybe an Oxford man, at that! Moving to another smaller city, has its cons, though, as it would. As Marcus put it, "Why go all the way there and not go to London". This is the obvious reason. I would put all of my eggs into the English basket, but it would be the wrong basket. It would be the smaller, brown basket with fraying around the edges, as the other sits across the coop with perfect golden weaving and space for more eggs. I would ideally love to move to London, who wouldn't? But does sense beat out excitement? In twenty years, will I regret not living in London? I know for sure that I will regret not living in England at all, but London? I am not sure. I think the thing I fell in love with the most was the culture in England, not necessarily the city. I fell in love with the atmosphere, the lifestyle, the men, the Guinness, the customs, but did I specifically fall in love with London? This is something to contemplate.

     I have been the most depressed these past two months than I have ever been in my life. I am more depressed now than I was after my accident. Well, that might be a slight exaggeration. I can't really compare them, can I? Post-accident depression was more of a fear. This sort of depression does not cause me to lay in bed, not wanting to get out. Or cause me to fear the simplest of things, like my mother going to the food store. But still, I am depressed and think about that city every hour. It consumes me and the longing to be back is overwhelming. I am not sure if I am the only one out of my friends who is experiencing this as extreme as I. I think I might be the extreme case. I needed London. I needed London at the exact time in my life that it took place. I think about how long I had wanted to study abroad and why it took me till my spring semester of junior year to do so. The stars aligned and put me in England at the exact time in which I needed to be there. This may sound like an episode of LOST or Doctor Who, but it is what I believe in my heart.

     So I continue to feed this idea in my head like a seedling. I will water it with each new development and each new problem solved. I will watch it grow until it eventually sprouts and looks towards the sun, ready to begin a new phase of life.

I love people

I thought of a lovely little memory today while driving...

     As I waited for the bus outside of my favorite bar, The Monarch, on a Saturday night, a young couple came up to my friend and I.
     "Does this jacket look good on me?" He asked as he raised his arms and shrugged his shoulders.
     The girlfriend laughed and shook her head and looked at us.
     "It's her jacket, but how does it look?" He said.
     "We drew coat check tickets and had to wear whichever jacket we got," she said in his oversized coat.
     "I don't think it looks too bad on me."
     "No, it looks good," I say, "but the sleeves might be a little short. Just keep your arms down." I turn to the girlfriend, "at least you can pull that one off," looking at the bagginess of his jacket over her shoulders. "Him, I'm not so sure about."
     The girlfriend continued to laugh, then answered her ringing phone. The boyfriend laughed, shook my hand, and told me to have a good night.

     I am not sure if in that moment I had a tremendous love for London or for mankind. I assumed it was because they were friendly brits, but I am sure couples do things like that in America too. The fact that this couple came up to us and was able to laugh and joke around with strangers made me truly appreciate people. Human beings need to joke around more, share a laugh with strangers, and make life fun.

     So next time you go to a bar with a boyfriend, girlfriend, friend, brother, sister, whomever, switch coat check tickets, it's a good laugh.

The people I met

     I have missed my friends these past two weeks more than anything. I miss being able to walk down the hall to Lauren's room or hearing Kelly stomp down the hall to come find me. I miss riding the tube with Emily and worshipping Julie under Julieism. The friendships I made in London will last forever. It sounds cliche, but it is the truth. I went to London not knowing if I would make good friends. I had a fear of just making friends I could tolerate, but not truly enjoy. I was the luckiest girl in the world to meet the six other people from my college and fall in love with them. A week or two later, we picked up four people from the University of New Hampshire and the 11 of us were stuck together the rest of the time. I branched out and made friends from all over America and learned so much about my homeland as well as England. I was never without someone when I was bored or upset, and I always had a companion when I wanted to explore. We all had the mentality of this being a once in a lifetime experience and knew that we had to make the most of it. I am eternally grateful that I was given these people. 

     I often think about why it took me till my spring semester of the third year of college to study abroad. When looking at colleges during high school and going on tours, I would focus the most of the study abroad program and the places offered. It was something I always knew I would do and was excited to embark on the journey. But why did I wait so long? I like to live my life by a few philosophies, one of which being that everything happens for a reason.  I believe that I was meant to study this semester because the people I met made my experience and I would never have met any of them without going to London.  It would have been a completely different life if I did not have these people and my roommate by my side. I love them all dearly and know that when we are old and gray, we will sit around a table talking about that one time in London...

Do we have time for a photo montage??

One of the first days we all went out together. 

And I am pretty sure this was our first group shot.

Monmouth LONDON SP13

Larn

Roooooooomie

Kelly Mac

Going to O'Neills? Probably

Normal

At my favorite place, The Monarch. My 

favorite DJ is in the background too. It is 

basically the best picture.

On our way to the Harry Potter Studio Tour

Coming home from.... Venice? I'm pretty sure.

Top of the Eiffel Tower

First successful roommate picture

Breakin it down in the student bar.

Kelly and I are the only ones who 

find whatever she is saying funny. 

Typical.

I don't know why that ketchup

was in my pocket on the top of the 

Eiffel Tower. 

Loungin on the stairs in front of the bathroom.

In the LOUVRE.

12 people taking over Amsterdam.

Sexy money belt pic.

Soph

O'Neills

Last night all together on Primrose Hill.

I have pants on. Lauren does not. This is 

what happens when you are forced to go out

the day you come home from a weekend

in Paris. You become a little delusional. 

London Ladies

Louvre

On our way up the mountain to go 

Paragliding.

Catherine.

Erica.

Love