Furry Critters

Oh, what do I do about my kitties?! They are my babies, my zen masters, the furry loves of my critter life, and it pains my heart to be apart for more than a week let alone more than a year. My dad has agreed to take them. And also promised not to let them outside (since they will surely be eaten by wolves in the back country of Oklahoma). He was definitely stressed when I first asked him this huge favor, not exactly being a cat lover, but I can tell he is warming to the idea. And I know deep down that he will fall in love with them and then not want to give them back. I have to resign to this likely possibility that I will lose my cats forever.

"meeeeaaaaaaaaaorrr" <-- sad meow

I love how I wake up every morning with Cooper snuggled in to the crook of my arm and how Sushi keeps me company in the office, sleeping on the back of the desk where the monitor warms the wood. My sweet furry critters, of all the things I leave behind, I will miss you the most of all!

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Lovers and Haters

I can put every person in my life from friends, family, acquaintances, and colleagues in to two distinct categories. The lovers and the haters. People who think this trip is the most fantastic thing they've ever heard of, they've done it before or dreamed of doing it. Their eyes are wild with jealousy, to live vicariously off every single exotic city that falls from your lips or smile broadly with the confidence that they've made a leap just like this one and are better, wiser, and fuller because of it.

And then there are the other people, the Haters, that have to bring up every practical and very reasonable explanation about how this plan to travel the world is not reasonable at all. You don't have enough money. You're going to blow your entire savings?! It won't be all its cracked up to be. Just take a month off and go back to work. The economy is in the toilet. You won't be able to find a job when you get back. You'll wish you didn't go. Or will I?


To the Haters out there. Why you hatin? Thanks for your concern. I know you do it because you love me. But if you love me, you gotta support me. Because this is my life. Queue music. I have this silly business card I made and carry around in my wallet that says: Executive Director, My Life to remind myself who is in charge. Y'know we all have total control over our lives but we usually don't feel that way. We make a constant stream of choices that shape everything we have and if we aren't happy then there is only one person you can complain to.

Nifty (and relevant) quote from Steve Jobs:

“Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma - which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of other's opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.”

So I stared at my myself, into my own eyes, and promptly fired the girl in the mirror. I am more than my resume. My life won't be measured by a list of accomplishments in perfect order that read like every other person on this block like every block in every town of the country. And the world could go down in flames tomorrow, or I could get hit by a bus and then all this careful long term planning is bullsh*t. So I'm going for it! I'm gonna spend all those pennies I saved for a rainy day, and when it rains I'm going to make a poncho out of my gleeful memories and dance in the street.

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Couchsurfing

Ron and I recently joined the site couchsurfing.com so we could host guests for awhile before the trip and see if staying with people was a viable option.

We are both home-bodies and only averagely social so at first the thought of opening our home up was a little worrisome. It's already stressful working more then full-time and planning this trip. Also, we live in an open loft space so there are no doors and not a lot of privacy. But then if we wouldn't open our doors, why should we expect someone to welcome us later when we were on the other side?

I've browsed a lot of places, and people offer their couches up when they themselves don't have very much in the way of comforts. Isn't it weird that the more you have, the less you are willing to share? There are people with 5 bedroom homes and actual guest rooms out there that wouldn't dream of doing this. It's silly when you think about it. So all of you with couches and guest rooms, consider joining and spreading the love! Or if not you can just wait until Ron and I are back in the US, jobless and homeless, and need a place to crash for a night or two or twelve. We'll be good house guests, I promise! I can provide you with computer support and Ron will cook up some mean BBQ. It'll be a blast.

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