Travel over everything

I just spent most of my evening going over all the airline mileage rewards accounts I’ve accumulated over the years: U.S. Airways’ Dividend Miles, Delta’s SkyMiles, the AAdvantage program, and now MileagePlus from United. I don’t know how people keep track of these things all the time. And I don’t know why, after many years of traveling, I’m only now paying attention to this stuff. The amount of miles I actually have in my balances pale in comparison to all the real-life miles I’ve flown: from here to the Philippines, here to London, here (meaning Chicago) to Spain. The list goes on. I guess better late than never, right?

Anyway, the end result of my labors tonight ended up with me booking a flight to Miami in January. While not entirely spontaneous, it was still a pretty random decision to make on a Monday evening. You see, one of my girl friends and I had been trying to plan a trip to Costa Rica in November for weeks and it eventually fell through. Another one of my girl friends had mentioned Miami for January a while back as well, so I suggested that as a fallback trip to my other friend. Anyway, nothing’s even confirmed with all these friends but I just couldn’t take it anymore. Is it smart? My mother would probably say no. But I feel I’ve come to a point in my life where I do not care. I just want to travel and explore and get lost.

Yes, that’s where I’m at in life right now. As Aubrey Graham would say, YOLO!

Life is about to get incredib-effing-ly busy

If 2012 was a year in which nothing truly remarkable happened—I continued working two jobs, living at home, hanging out with friends—then 2013 is about to become the exact opposite.

March 2013 in particular. I’ve already established that I’m going on a 5-day solo trip to London, with a quick St. Patrick’s Day stop in Ireland. My parents recently announced that we’re moving from this house to another one in town, with plans to rent it for at least the next two years until my youngest brother graduates high school. Then, they will look into moving out west—more specifically, Las Vegas or somewhere in California. Talk about big moves. As for me, I’m not quite sure what I’ll be doing in two years, but at the moment I’m focused on the next two weeks, in which not only will I have to continue working my two jobs while packing for my trip, but also packing up my entire life (I mean, bedroom) for this new house. Yikes. According to my dad, we can start moving our stuff there next week but we won’t be actually living in there until April 1.

Which leaves me to this next bit. While packing up stuff I found a couple of my old journals from high school. Read through one from 2006, the year I was 16 and a junior in high school. It’s a strange thing, encountering a previous incarnation of yourself. It’s like…you can still feel every morsel of pain and teenage angst that that person was going through, but at the same time you want to show her the light at the end of the tunnel. What was I like at 16? Well according to my journal—and let’s remember here, I seem to be the type of person who only writes when angry and alone and confused—I was a very angry and alone and confused girl at 16. Not many friends, no boyfriend, nothing exciting going on.

Seven years later, here I am at 23. What’s changed? I noticed that for the most part, the fuel to my fire in high school was the tension with my dad. Back then, he would never let me go out. Like, ever. Pretty much every other entry consisted of me crying about how I was trapped in this house with no life and no prospects. But to say my dad has lightened up now would be an understatement—he no longer calls me at 11 in the evening on a Saturday night, demanding I be home within the hour. No questions asked if I say I’m sleeping over somewhere (although only God knows what he’d say if he found out I’ve been sleeping over at a boy’s house as of late). It’s funny how things magically change when you turn 21 and have a car, a full-time job, and a college degree.

But the part that slightly concerns me was, and still is, my anger. A lot of entries began with “Am so depressed” or “I’m so fucking furious” or something along those lines. The scary part is, I know I still feel those emotions today. Sometimes I wonder if I do have a serious problem. Even my newly minted boyfriend (still feels really weird to say that!) has pointed out I have a lot of passionate anger bottled up inside. Hell, I even had a Xanga username once that was called savetherage. I know I get feisty and mad a lot. But I like to think I’ve done a magnificent job not letting it overcome my life. I have passions. A lot of those journal entries also consisted of me writing to do lists and declarations that “I will be productive with my life today.”

And that’s just who I am. I’ve learned that I need to constantly feel busy and productive with my life. I don’t like feeling useless. My life is so filled with activity now, with jobs and friends and hobbies and trips. While I tend to whine a lot, I know that in the past near 2 years since I’ve graduated college, life’s been a lot easier since those hellish high school days.

I feel like such an idiot

As if my week could get any worse. Yesterday I set about on the process of clearing out my pinkeye-infested makeup. I didn’t feel like throwing away my brand new eyeliner pencil, so I tried cutting off a part of it with a knife. As a result, I cut my left index finger…bad. It’s bleeding profusely, and I’m writing this entry with one hand as we speak.

I was too embarrassed to even explain this to my roommate, although I eventually did. I’m dying to call my parents for advice, but I don’t even know how to explain it to them either.

It hurts a little…it’s throbbing hard…AND IT WAS BLEEDING SO MUCH.

No more winter wonderland, please

I used to be such a winter person. Not that it was my absolute favorite season, because I loved them all equally, but because it could be just as fun as summer. I loved playing in the snow with my brothers (and roommates, as it came to be in college), bundling up in pretty layers for the cold and looking at all the pretty holiday lights, especially in the city.


All bundled up and ready! (…Not on the inside)

And now, because I never got to transition properly into this Midwestern winter since I didn’t get to experience autumn this year, I am utterly, bitterly and miserably cold. To the point where I can barely do anything but sit on my couch and shiver in annoyance. Too cold to even bundle up and warm my car to drive to the library or Barnes or the mall or my usual favorite haunts.

It’s funny how 4 months of tropical weather erased my 20 years of winter fondness.

I go back to school early Sunday morning. Trying to pack is a bit of a bitch. I don’t know how I managed to pack a whole semester of my life into two suitcases for Costa Rica; I’ve already got a box, duffel bag, one giant container and 3/5 of my suitcase packed. I feel slightly guilty for having so many possessions when I know that it’s possible I can live off so few. But then again, I won’t be having a wonderful host mom to do my laundry every week back in Chambana.

By the way, has everyone heard about the whole shifting of zodiac signs thing? Everyone seems to be up in arms about it on Facebook. I am now no longer a Virgo, I am now a Leo. Huh.

It has been quite the past few days

What a last-week-in-Costa-Rica it’s been.

Tuesday night I got into a verbal altercation with another member of my group. I don’t care if people think if I’m being bitchy or whiny about something trivial (like a certain bar tab), but if I dislike someone that intensely I ain’t holdin’ back and will let my mouth, drunk or sober, run its profanity-filled course. It was so satisfying, and I will not hesitate again to get into this person’s face again should the occasion arise.

Another story. On Wednesday night, while I was walking home from the bus stop sometime after 10 p.m., a car stopped at at the 3-way intersection I was approaching. A man got out of the driver’s side, which I didn’t really register…until I noticed he was not wearing a shirt. I kept walking anyways, then noticed that the man was completely naked. Saw the dude, who must’ve been trippin’ on something, in all his glory. Oh, Costa Rica.

Later that night, I was sitting on my bed tapping away at this laptop per usual. Sometime after 11, the doorbell rang. I froze, being unable to think of a reason why someone would be calling at our door so late (my family typically goes to sleep before 10) (and for a split second, I thought it was the naked man from earlier). A few minutes later, someone begins knocking on my window. First of all, my bed is up against the window. I’m literally sitting about a foot away from it. I could’ve sworn my heart stopped beating for the 5 minutes that this person was banging on my window. I didn’t answer the person for so long, even though I assumed he could probably see me through my curtains. It ended up being my older host brother, who smirked at me and was all like, “Why were you scared?”

Thursday night was a night of epic proportions. It was Ladies Night (they REALLY need to start implementing these in the United States) at La Birreria, and my girl friends and I happened across a great variety of men there, including some from my past 4 months here (eeks!). There were even male go-go dancers there, which I thoroughly enjoyed. They were the last thing I remembered before blacking out and throwing up all over the floor. How I managed to not get thrown out is beyond me. To make things even more insane, after puking I ended up dancing atop a bar with a bartender, while another bartender continued to pour tequila straight from the bottle down my throat. And the partying didn’t stop there — after Birreria closed at 3 a.m., we hopped a taxi to Miraflores and met up with several local friends. By the time we finally hailed a taxi home, the sun was already up. When I finally got home, my host mother was wide awake and on her way to her morning walk. A “Buenos dias!” later, I finally hit the sack at 6 a.m. From 9 p.m. to 6 a.m. Definitely don’t think I have it in me to do that again LOL.

ETA: AND DID I MENTION? I’M GOING HOME TOMORROW!!! AHHHHHHHH……