Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Monday, October 24, 2011
I haven't yet set up Google Reader with this blog (help?), but you can currently follow me through Twitter, Bloglovin (that page is so lonely right now), or the RSS feed (top right corner), and also friend me on Couchsurfing and Travel Bloggers Unite.
I love this new format so far [even the parts that I barely know how to work] and I am planning more frequent posts now that I'm all settled. Thanks so much for sticking with me!
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Thursday, October 13, 2011
2. Start pricing out these trips using different and sometimes complex combinations of departure and arrival cities, dates, and flight comparison websites.
3. Seven hours later, take a break to eat.
4. Resume the search. Agonize. Check bank account. Further agony.
5. Script a rousing pep talk for yourself.
6. Procrastinate by googling pictures of the places you'd like to go.
7. Thirty minutes later, realize you have ended up on the Wikipedia site for catfish.
8. This reminds you of your cat; spend about 20 minutes looking through pictures of her on your phone.
9. Filled with love for your cat and a determination to make her proud, resume your search with confidence.
10. Find a ridiculously cheap flight from Chicago to Barcelona via Pakistan International Airlines.
11. Argue with boyf through text messaging about the relevance of Pakistan International Airlines to this particular routing.
12. Book different flight.
13. Choose a type of drink that will simultaneously celebrate your achievement while also mourning the hit to your bank account [suggestions: whiskey]
14. Break news to parents via blog post. Mom, Dad, I'm going to Spain.
Monday, October 10, 2011
Monday, October 3, 2011
I am also one of those people who has dreams that I can remember almost every single night. I've always been that way and I kind of like it, especially since I rarely have any nightmares.
A few weeks ago, the boyf woke up in the middle of the night with a coughing fit. Apparently he got up to get a glass of water and then came back in to lie down, where he proceeded to cough for several more minutes while I continued to sleep angelically beside him, blissfully unaware of his anguish.
I must have been in the midst of a dream where I was advising someone at work, because when he started to nudge me awake, seeking some sympathy, I distinctly recall being very irritated and incoherent.
"No," I snapped, "you can't take a direct train from Barcelona to Munich," irritated that he would even consider the possibility at this time of night.
A few minutes later, when I was more lucid and the guilt had begun to set in, I gave him a back rub and offered to get him more water.
Later that week, we were at his house. As usual, I was exhausted from work and had fallen asleep before he had. When he came into bed and got under the covers, I shifted and started to wake up a little. He hadn't said anything, but in my dream someone else definitely had. Slowly, so as to break it to them gently, I whispered, "No, the train from Milan doesn't run every day."
I heard the boyf say, "What?" and that woke me up a little more. Suddenly realizing where I was, I sighed and waved my hand. "Just mumbling about trains again."
Later, he said that I hadn't actually been forming real words during most of that.
Two nights ago was the worst. Getting my beauty sleep alone this time, I was half-awake a few minutes before my alarm was set to go off. I don't remember what exactly had happened in this dream except that someone had wanted to go from Guyana to Munich -- Guyana being the country in South America.
Somehow this one translated into text messaging. Half-awake, I was suddenly irritated with myself that I could no longer find the written request that this person had given me. I looked under my pillow, on the floor next to my bed, and then it dawned on me that oh, of course, it was probably in a text message. I grabbed my phone and open to the most recent text I had received, something from the boyf about our weekend plans.
Grumpily, I sighed. I wasn't so much irritated that I had woken up before my alarm and therefore missed out on three valuable minutes of sleep as I was that someone in my dream had not known that you cannot get from South America to Germany by train.
My job is seasonal, and it ends this Friday. Perhaps this is a good thing.
*there isn't one.