I’m making a few tweaks to the blog this week. I updated to Thesis 1.7 and lost my header, so I’m going to work on getting that to show up.
Stay tuned …
When I left home this morning it was 84 degrees – inside. I have central A/C that has been on the fritz for two weeks. As any of my Facebook friends could tell you, this has been the source of several desperate pleas for sympathy as my status updates range from frustration to sheer joy at the sight of the A/C man:
The air is thick with humidity and I can visualize hard earned money flying out the window for what it will take to rectify the situation.
Despite several offers of a cool, dry place to crash, I am hesitant. I have a pet that is highly adverse to change. Not to blame it all on Sophie, but she’s quite a handful and I’m not sure I want to subject my friends to her idiosyncrasies. And I don’t totally feel comfortable leaving her at home to fend for herself. So for now, I’m choosing to stick it out.
A recent news report put my current lack of A/C in complete perspective. I was seated on my couch, my fan on high and two feet away from my face, when the Today show aired a 6 month update on Haiti. Since the story had been the headlines for such a long time, I had started to tune out reports. This time, I listened.
In one segment, the images showed a Red Cross supported camp in which several of the shelters have been built using the debris from destroyed buildings of a neighborhood that once stood nearby. In a country where the average daily high temperature for most months exceeds 90F, Haitians are living in an unimaginable reality. Inside tents and makeshift shelters, the heat is sweltering. And unlike my situation, there isn’t relief just an arm’s reach or phone call away.
The same report included the startling fact that of all the monies promised by governments in the days after the disaster, to date only 10% has come through. People on the ground in Haiti must now attempt to respond with only a small portion of the expected funding. It’s tough – life continues and new tragedies arise that draw attention away and require their own support. The situation with the BP Oil Disaster immediately comes to mind. But I’ve always heard that no matter how it may seem, there are always people in much more difficult situations. So while I don’t revel in the reality that I will be going home to a very warm and humid home this evening, I am also seeing it in perspective. At the end of the day, I’m so very lucky and this situation is a temporary reality. And since I haven’t made a donation this month, this time I’ll send it to Hope for Haiti’s Children’s Center in the hopes it can do a little bit of good.
I have wanderlust. If my budget allowed, I would travel much more often than I do today. My travel bucket list includes the near – Portland, Seattle, Quebec – and the far – Denmark, Greece, New Zealand.
We traveled quite a bit growing up, with road trips to visit family and excursions in the pop-up camper. And travel ultimately dictated my choice of foreign language instruction. Upon learning that the Spanish classes went to Mexico and the French classes to Quebec, I chose German and participated in a 3 week exchange program during the summer of ’88 that reinforced what has now become a lifelong passion.
Image courtesy of iStockPhoto
Through work I visited upwards of a dozen countries, but after a while the insides of airports, board rooms and hotel rooms all start to look the same. If I need a distraction from the day to day, I turn to the web to research ‘fun’ trips. As a convert away from hotels, I start by logging on to VRBO. In fact, I’m jealous of their traveling bear. These travel dreams give me extra incentive to work hard and save up.
Since my boomerang relocation from Boston to Atlanta and back again, my passport has been woefully neglected. The other day I found it, wedged between two random folders in my filing cabinet. I have my reasons my travel dropped off – my job no longer required overseas travel, my friends were otherwise occupied with husbands and kids, and my brief and illustrious stint as a Realtor had depleted my savings.
But the most significant reason by far was the fear of being too far away during my mom’s battle with myelofibrosis. During her more hopeful months, we’d talk often of one day going to Ireland when she recovered. And while that trip did not happen, I am so grateful that my parents got to go on some amazing trips on their own and at other times, with some of their dearest friends.
The loss of my mom has reinforced that life is too short and that life is about choices and adventures. About two weeks ago a funny thing happened during my lunchtime surfing on VRBO … I discovered two amazingly affordable and adorable apartments. I hesitated before booking, filled with questions and fears about going on my own. Then I reread the letter my mom had left me. In it, she talked about her belief that I can do anything and her admiration of my sense of adventure, including my decision to move to Boston fresh out of college without knowing a soul.
Keeping mom’s words in mind, I booked my trip. My passport and I will be quite busy, traveling between apartments in Lisbon and Seville. The trip is still 9 months away, but I can already feel the excitement building with each person I tell. During my solo trip I plan to live like a local, focus on my writing, and take stock of my life. And I’m sure my mom will be with me every step of the way.
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