Solo Sojourns: The Legacy of the “Me Trip”

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Today’s Mood Ingredients: Nomadic, Adventurous, Introspective, Light, Free.

One of the greatest things I’ve ever done to facilitate my own independence and feed my desire to connect with as many kindred and non-kindred spirits as possible was to start taking “Me Trips” back when I started college. I know you’re waiting with bated breath for me to explain (because the name isn’t self-explanatory at all), so here we go. When I was a freshman, many of my closest friends were at different schools, so our spring breaks never coincided. I’m one of those rarities on the planet that has never been to Cancun for spring break. I never had a wild week of unadulterated all-inclusive fun; at least not in college. When faced with the option of sitting at home for a week doing nothing but morosely imagining the others on the beach (pre-Facebook photo days, you guys aka TORTURE), I decided to just up & leave and go on a trip by myself. It was nothing spectacular the first time (Virginia and Washington, DC), but the whole idea of leaving for a different city by myself with no concrete itinerary was so enthralling, even the mall seemed spectacular because it was in another city. Now, back in the day, before I went delinquent for a while, my parents were hyper-paranoid and I was an angel child. Trying to convince them that I was going to drive to Virginia from New York alone, stay in a hotel alone, and hopefully return (alone) was one of the most difficult processes that no human being should ever have to go through. But, I’m a Scorpio and I’m stubborn and I’m determined and I guess I was convincing (“Mom! You always say you want me to be independent! How will I do so in the house all break while you feed me!? I have to experience life.” Yeah, whatever, you were all that preachy at 17 too!). So, I packed a bag with clothes, money, the brick of a cell phone I had just gotten in January of 2000 “for emergencies only,” & some books, and bounded out the door.

I remember being extremely excited that I was going on a trip by myself and I would meet so many new people and see so many new things and learn so much more about myself that the first thing I did was get lost on the way. It’s a straight road from NYC to VA/DC, but I get lost if I come out of a different subway exit, so this was par for the course for me. With no navigation system & NO WAY IN HELL being the basic idea behind calling my dad for directions, my “spring break” started off by gas station hopping (party animal) to find out exactly how I could get to my destination. When I got to my little Holiday Inn room, I was thrilled (this was pre-anxiety that a serial killer would strangle me Lifetime movie style days). I looked around, called my parents to tell them that I still had all limbs intact and I was only late in arriving because of traffic, not due to being directionally impaired, and..bounded out the door.

The 5 days I spent in Virginia & DC are still some of my most fondly remembered ones. I went to the Smithsonian, National Air & Space Museum, The White House, Washington Monument, Lincoln & Jefferson Memorials, Arlington Cemetery, & of course, the Arlington Mall (as in shopping, not historical). I meandered along the large exhibits and really took the time to understand the things that I actually liked in life. I found that my childhood predilection for museums and history was still raring to go as long as I didn’t have a 40 question exam or 2,000 word essay relying on it afterwards. I experienced the DC nightlife, unknowingly ended up at an awesome lesbian nightclub (“Come to the firehouse party tomorrow night, I’ll take you as my date!”) which I didn’t know at the time was a lesbian nightclub, I just thought it was “ladies’ night” and people in DC were much nicer than in New York (see why I needed the “independence”!?), made a new friend at a hip hop bar who I was in touch with for a couple of years afterwards, went back to the hotel happy and renewed and ready to go home..and bounded out the door.

After that first experience, I was hooked. “Me Trips” became my sanity and I vowed to take one at least once a year. I went to the Bahamas with no plans and ended up going to fire-breathing show, kayaking for the first time by myself (resulting in spaghetti arms), & meeting a girl and her mom from the next town over from me on Long Island. We met on a Bahamian snorkeling/booze cruise on which I ended up as “Limbo Queen” and won a bottle of long gone rum. From there, I took a flight to Miami, rented a red convertible to fulfill my long-harbored dream of being whatever people in red convertibles at the time were, had a beautiful dinner of pasta and wine on Lincoln Road alone while reading a paperback which I then left in the back of a cab I took to go to Mansion, a nightclub there. I encountered a bachelorette party of girls with whom I ended up having mutual connections, stayed at one of their apartments, & headed to Orlando on the Amtrak the next day. Most people call me a nutjob, but I have been to Miami’s Holocaust Museum alone, I’ve truly and thoroughly enjoyed The Magic Kingdom alone, I’ve gone to a club in Orlando and met  a couple who ended up inviting me to their wedding later that year, and I still go to dinner and movies and short road trips alone when I can’t manage the time for a full Me Trip. The experiences I’ve had on all of those journeys are absolutely incomparable and unique and considering I remember so many details, and more importantly, feelings, from these trips, it is clear that they have in some way shaped me as well. I just remember feeling new. That’s the best way I can put it. Intrigued, revived, alive, enthusiastic..and ever ready to bound out the door.

My family has gotten used to it even if they don’t understand it because it was and IS the greatest feeling in the world to take some time for yourself away from your familiar surroundings and the regular hubbub of daily life and just connect with yourself as a human being. Your likes, dislikes, experiences can all be influenced by those around you so once in a while, why not take off and see what it is that really resonates with you? I credit my Me Trips with much of the hyper self-awareness that I have today. I can honestly say that I know exactly what makes an impact with me, exactly what I like and don’t like and why, what my flaws are, what my assets are, what has shaped me and how, and what I want for myself from this point forward. To be attuned to yourself is a fabulous thing because I don’t second guess my decisions as much as I used to, and that is a fantastic feeling. I feel rejuvenated when I am away and have a clarity of thought that is difficult to produce when you’re surrounded by so many pressures and stressors and responsibilities. Alone doesn’t equal lonely and I strongly urge everyone to find the time to take a Me Trip and really understand what makes you, you.

I hope you’re bounding out the door.

Today’s Interlude: I 9, “Same In Any Language”

(Pictures Below – sadly none of Virginia/DC..pre-digicam days!: 1. Red convertible stunting in Miami, 2. Nicole, a girl I met in the Bahamas with her mom, & myself at Señor Frog’s, 3. Random bachelorette party at Mansion, Miami, 4. Limbo Queen on a Bahamian booze cruise, 5. New friends in the Bahamas at the Breezes resort where I was not staying, 6. Front & center at Cinderella’s house, 7. Knights of Fire show in the Bahamas, 8. Nicole’s mom, Nicole, the bouncer, & me at Señor Frog’s, 9. Bride-to-be Monique & her BFF at an Orlando lounge, 10. New friends in Miami, 11. New friends in Orlando, 12. New friend Rahul & I at B.E.D. in Miami, 13. Holocaust Museum in Miami, 14. Wedding party friends at Breezes in the Bahamas, 15. My 1st time snorkeling, 16. A new Orlando police officer friend, 17. Nicole & I on the Bahamian booze cruise, 18. Kayaking for the 1st time)

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Stack on Stacks on Stacks: Bibliophilia Is Cool

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Arts: Stacks on Stacks on Stacks: Bibliophilia Is Cool

Today’s Mood Ingredients: Hungry, Curious, Adventurous, Cozy, Well-Read, Literary.

Once upon a time, I was lucky enough to travel to Cambodia, drive through a phantom tollbooth, do some detective work with a girl named Nancy, be in awe of a girl named Cam’s photographic memory, be a part of a club of babysitters and a sleepover club, hang out in abandoned boxcars, meet five people in heaven, travel 20,000 leagues under the sea, live in a castle for 7 years, learn about the southern USA during the slavery era, learn about magic with a gypsy woman named Brida, hang out with a sweet award-winning pig, interpret various maladies of numerous people, fall in love with a hundred men (whoa), and embrace many of life’s lessons from a brilliant alchemist. It’s been a wonderful 28 years of a life full of imagination and intelligence, new perspectives and introspection; and I never needed to physically leave the place I was in.

Since you’ve probably already figured out what I’m talking about, let me dive right in. When someone tells me, “I hate reading for fun!”, I genuinely have trouble understanding them. I pride myself on being quite adept at putting myself in other people’s shoes for a myriad of things, but this one thing? I DON’T GET IT! But then again, I hate football, eggplants, and reality show celebrities, & no one gets that either. For me, reading is an innate love carried over generations on both sides of my family (somehow skipping my mom & brother). My dad started me off early & the love affair took off right from the get-go. The ability to escape into other people’s characters, their minds, other realms, cultivate and nurture my own imagination and creativity is the greatest asset to an introvert like me. Externally, I’m an affable, sociable, strange person, but when I need hermit time, books are my favorite partners. They offer an intangible, inexplicable, but incomparable comfort that is akin to cuddling with your pet or having your mom take care of you when you’re sick; and thank God for that because my dog is moody and sometimes, so is my mom.

I’m a crazy quote-monger (if that’s not a thing, it is now); I like to see how similarly or how differently someone else can put my feelings to words, & when words fail me (it doesn’t happen often, but my words are not quite quotable, perhaps more bleep-able at times), someone else’s lines do just fine. I also truly wish I could meet some of my favorite authors, but only a handful are still alive (Paulo Coelho, Mitch Albom, Mindy Kaling, Jhumpa Lahiri, JK Rowling, BJ Novak, Cecelia Ahern, & Nick Hornby to name a few), & so I have to settle for imagining Dickinson/Hemingway/Milne’s lives, Rumi & Kahlil Gibran’s real theories on love, Shakespeare’s creative process, Thoreau’s experiences, Frost’s decision-making processes (wink wink), & especially so, Plath’s thoughts (I believe Sylvia & I are kindred souls, minus the level of heart-wrenching depression and the whole suicide situation, of course). Though all have done a remarkable job of recording the aforementioned in beauteous poetry, prose, and stories, you can bet that my ideal dead dinner party guests would most definitely include those people. Recently, I asked to join a friend’s book club because it was something I had been wanting to do for years and because apparently, I’m okay with inviting myself to things I see on Facebook statuses. To find like-minded bibliophiles, but with their own interpretations of a work and its characters is like free cone day at Baskin Robbins to me (comparing the happiness here, not necessarily the satisfaction of reading a book versus the satiation of inhaling a large chocolate chocolate-chip with whipped cream & rainbow sprinkles).

As long as I can remember (& I’m like Dumbo with the memory..& maybe also some of the self-doubt), one of my favorite dreams has been to own a house that has a large mahogany library full of slouchy armchairs, a crackling fireplace, a ginormous [hypoallergenic] rug, a bay window/nook with a view of the pool guy (jk jk), Marshmallow Man sized & consistency-d throw pillows, and thousands and thousands and millions of books. Old, new, classic, nouveau, fiction, non, biographies, autos, children’s, adults’, hardcover, paperback, leather-bound. I want a place to travel when I can’t, to breathe when I can’t, to flop on the floor and leave everything behind when I can’t, basically to just fly away when I can’t. My other favorite dream is that those newfangled battery-powered contraptions won’t render my smooth covered, musty fragranced, underlined, worn to the spine, dogeared, page filled, ink misprinted companions obsolete. Fine, admittedly I do own a Nook, but in my defense, it was after everyone else, it was a gift, and I fought a long & valiant battle against it. Plus, I can’t do the heavy-lifting required of me if I took all the books I wanted to with me everywhere I go.

Anyyyhoo, I’ll end this with some of my favorite titles, maybe some coincide with some of yours, maybe you have other suggestions, please let me know either way! And thanks to whoever coined my favorite term to elementary [school] & beyond; “Reading is FUN-damental.”

It’s a beautiful love affair and it shall last ’til happily ever after.

P.S.–>Bibliophobes, check out Audible!

The Alchemist, Brida, The Witch of Portobello, Veronika Decides To Die, Eleven Minutes, The Manual of the Warrior of Light, Aleph (all by Paulo Coelho), Tuesdays With Morrie, The 5 People You Meet In Heaven, The First Phone Call From Heaven, The Time Keeper, For One More Day, Have A Little Faith (every book Mitch Albom has written), The Interepreter of Maladies, The Lowlands (both Jhumpa Lahiri), A Long Way Down (Nick Hornby), Wicked (Gregory Maguire), The Time of My Life, There’s No Place Like Here, The Book of Tomorrow, The Gift, Thanks For The Memories, One Hundred Names (all by Cecelia Ahern), Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? And Other Concerns (Mindy Kaling), One More Thing: Stories and Other Stories (BJ Novak), The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar (both by Sylvia Plath), And The Mountains Echoed (Khaled Hosseini), The Prophet (Kahlil Gibran), The Witch’s Daughter (Paula Brackston), the Harry Potter series (shut up, it’s not Twilight), The Casual Vacancy (both by JK Rowling), The Perks of Being a Wallflower (Stephen Chbosky), Little Women (Louisa May Alcott), The Gift (Andi Buchanan), 13 Reasons Why (Jay Asher), Sweet Valley Jr. High/High/University (Francine Pascal), Dream a Little Dream (Antoinette Stockenberg), Where The Wild Things Are (Maurice Sendak), Oh! The Places You’ll Go!, The Lorax (both by Dr. Seuss), Where The Sidewalk Ends (Shel Silverstein), Charlie & The Chocolate Factory (Roald Dahl), The Gifts of Imperfection (Brené Brown), 2Bro2B (Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.), The Mistress of Spices (Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni), The Death of Vishnu (Manil Suri), The Diary of Anne Frank (Anne Frank), The Book Thief (Markus Zusak), Bridge to Terabithia (Katherine Paterson), Catcher In The Rye (J.D. Salinger), Number The Stars (Lois Lowry), Are You There, God? It’s Me Margaret, Tiger Eyes, Blubber, Otherwise Known As Sheila The Great, Deenie (all by Judy Blume), Ethan Frome (Edith Wharton), To Kill A Mockingbird (Harper Lee), and on and on and on and on..

Today’s Interlude: Beauty and the Beast, “Little Town (Belle)”