A field guide to growing up without growing apart
I never, EVER imagined myself living outside the United States. But, life is full of surprises. I have now been living in the Middle East for going on 3 years, and I have come to love, love, love the expat life. And, since the primary […]
It seems like every twenty-something has a list of dream travel destinations, or maybe, like Sleeping Booty, they’ve already checked off a bunch with a big trip. The world has gotten pretty small these days, as evidenced by the fact that the Naughty Princesses here […]
The idea of a Bucket list has never really appealed to me. It seems like making a list of things to do before you die is so definitive and constricting. What happens if you die without completing it? What happens if you complete it and still don’t feel finished? What happens if you grow up a little and realize that skydiving isn’t actually a real thing you want to spend your money on? The whole things just seems negative, like a weird competition that you can never win. And isn’t completing a list something we should always be actively working towards? If I write down that I… want to go to Africa, then shouldn’t I start saving up money now and looking at plane tickets and talking to people and working to make it happen? Lists are things worth striving for, and promising yourself that you’ll do things is just too much.
All that being said, tomorrow I’m about to complete something I’ve wanted to do for a very long time. On Monday morning I catch a flight back to the USA from Dublin, my last stop on a 5 month tour of Europe, and the end of a lifelong dream will come true.
This trip has been crazy, filled with ups and downs, friends and strangers, cities and landscapes, and it’s completely surreal to think that in a little over 24 hours I’ll be done. I don’t know quite how to process it, because, really, what happens after a dream comes true?
And it wasn’t really just one dream that came true either. I got to do tons of things I’ve hoped to do my entire life. I got to travel alone, visit Stonehenge, watch a show at the Globe, go to Denmark, cheer a friend’s ski race in the World Cup, see a band I love play to a crowd that doesn’t speak English. And while I don’t really feel like I’ve checked these things on my list, I do feel like I’ve added them. I want to do them again, do them in different ways, do things that make me feel as good as they did. Doesn’t it make more sense to add things to a list of happiness than to cross things off of a list of death?!
But the argument for making goals and working to make them happen must still be worth something, even if the idea of a bucket list is problematic. On an overnight train a few months ago I met a woman who was on her way home from a Dixie Chicks concert that she’d saved and planned for since 2001. As we talked she explained that she’d left her child and husband at home for the weekend and purposely chose to see this concert alone, so she could better live in the moment without worrying whether her friend or husband was enjoying it as much a she was. By going to see her favorite band play she’d completed a tiny goal she’d had for a while, and it was moving to listen to her tell me that life is about little moments like that, where you find something worthwhile and make it happen. She said she was excited to think of a new one now, that having something to work towards makes the rest of life so much more beautiful.
I have no plan or idea what comes next in my life. I’ll arrive in the states tomorrow and move back in with my parents, jobless and exhausted. But I’ll have completed a life long dream, and really for all the plans and goals and lists, all that matters is how I feel right now. And you know what, I feel happy.
So about a year ago when I was planning this whole travel through Europe adventure, I invited everyone I talked with to come along. And when I say everyone, I mean everyone. In normal, everyday life this over invite plan works out well since half […]
I feel like I haven’t been posting on the blog much recently. Of course I can give the excuse that I’ve been “busy”( refer to my many posts about the chaos at my work), but that excuse is lame. What I’ve started to realize over […]
You know what I mean? Isn’t it just the most irksome thing when somebody has the nerve to do something that affects ME negatively? Obviously there’s sarcasm here, but this is also a real-life emotion I’m struggling with right now. I don’t want to be selfish, but clearly, I am, and I see this most when other people disappoint my expectations.
For instance, what about when you make plans with people only to have them bail? That is always a sucky feeling, whether it was a simple study date in the library back in college or an international vacation. Speaking of international vacations, I just took one recently to rendezvous with Sleeping Booty in Spain. For months and months, ever since SB started talking about taking her big trip, I had wanted to join her for part of that journey, and I promised to make it happen. When life circumstances changed and I wouldn’t be able to go during the dates I had originally wanted, I made sure to make it work during a different month. Sleeping Booty even changed her route a bit to accommodate me, when she wouldn’t have had to. We both made it a priority, and it worked out great.
Then there’s my sister-in-law and brother-in-law, who are, by all accounts, fantastic people. I love them dearly. I also hate that I can’t count on them to make long-term plans, or even short-term ones sometimes, because something inevitably gets in the way. Usually that something is their children…you know how it goes trying to be friends with people with young kids…usually pretty difficult when you don’t have kids yourself and want/are able to do completely different things with your time. So here’s the latest story of how my extended family has let me down when it comes to making my dream vacation plans come true.
Almost two years ago I floated the idea of a family cruise to Alaska. Fun, right? None of us had ever been there, and as a relatively new member of the family I loved the idea of a big family trip where we could all make memories. Family cruise, summer 2014! Everybody seemed on board at first (get it? On board?!) But at that point the family consisted of 8 adults and four children. Flash-forward to the actual summer of 2014, and two more kids have joined the group. Last summer my other brother-in-law and sister-in-law, expecting their third child, decided they wouldn’t be able to make it. But I wasn’t too bummed, because I had half expected them to bail anyway (they’d had qualms about the money from the start). Then, a few months later, the other couple bailed, but they had a good reason—they wanted to save money and vacation time to come visit us in the Middle East in February 2015. Fantastic. Totally understandable. I would much rather have them come to visit us than to come on a cruise where, to be honest, their kids probably wouldn’t enjoy themselves much anyway. But…
You can probably see where this is going. This morning they called to tell us that (surprise!) they were pregnant with baby #4, due February 2015, and wouldn’t be able to make the trip to see us.
With that news I immediately felt a mix of emotions. Of course I was excited for the prospect of a new niece or nephew, but my annoyance overshadowed that joy. I don’t even think I said congratulations, because I was all wrapped up in what it would mean for ME. It’s not really the fact that they can’t come in February (that wasn’t the best month for me, work-wise, anyway); it’s the fact that I have a strong suspicion baby #4 will be canceling the trip for good. They didn’t say that, of course, they said things like, “Maybe in April,” or “Maybe in 2016,” but I know how these things work. Another kid means another plane ticket to buy, another passport to apply for, another complicated visa to process. It also means that their lives are about to get even more hectic and complicated than they already are, and international travel usually doesn’t mesh well with that. We’re not going to live in this part of the world forever, and their window of opportunity may have just closed.
So I’m kind of ticked. I’m frustrated that, having semi-firm plans to come in February (they were already looking at plane tickets), they couldn’t manage to delay a fourth pregnancy another few months (Natural Family Planning Fail). But I’m also irritated that I’m feeling this way at all. My family is growing by one precious member, and I should be overjoyed for my sister-in-law and brother-in-law, not bitter about how their baby threw a wrench in my vacation plans. I mean, seriously, no one is required to plan their family, or their life, around me and my desires. I think I’ll be a better person when I can wrap my head around that fact and curb my innate selfishness. Any tips about how to do that?
Life goes on, doesn’t it? Back in December I had to say goodbye to my husband, knowing I wouldn’t see him again for 4+ months. At the same time, I had 16 weeks of student teaching stretching out in front of me, an experience I […]
Being in your twenties is generally a time period in which you move around a lot. So this month, we thought we’d talk about our places of residence. What we like, what we don’t like, and what makes the ideal environment for a 20 something. The ideal […]
Hello! It feels like forever since I last posted, funny how that seems to be the theme we’ve got going lately, all of us princesses sort of putting this old blog on the back burner while real life takes all our attention. We’ve been at this blogging thing over 18 months now, can you blame us for falling a bit behind? After all, this started as an experiment anyway, really it is surprising that it has lasted this long at all.
But then I think again and remember how much I love this place, that it exists in addition to ‘real’ life. How important it is to the specific friendships I have with my fellow princesses and how cool it is to feel part of a 20-something collective, all of us in it together as we struggle to figure out where we go next.
The last few weeks I’ve been traveling, staying in hostels and hotels, with friends and strangers, and I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about our little blog and been proud it exists, glad that if I ever need it’s here to support me and support others. Snow’s post helped me more than I can say and Cindy’s struggles with SAD make my struggles with tiredness seem more normal. Even reading about Merskank’s old english work helps me feel closer to her and simultaneously sad and glad I’m not a student anymore.
This blog, and so many others, are places we can go to supplement our reality. As much work as it is to maintain, there hasn’t been a moment I’ve thought it wasn’t worth it. So there you have it, my post for now. All I really want to say is I’m so glad you exist.
Hey kids! Turns out I’ve been wandering Europe for two weeks! Only 18 more to go! Every day so far has been nonstop packed with sightseeing or friend making so I’m appreciative to be sitting on a relaxing 9 hour bus ride from Edinburgh to […]
OH MAN. So I’m leaving in a few days for what can only be described as an epic adventure (5 months traveling around Europe just because I can) and while excited, I have to admit the planning process has been slightly overwhelming… and I’m almost […]
So this one time I spent 21 days with 10 other people river rafting the Grand Canyon and it was epic.
Long story shortish: Due to the 17 day government shutdown all the National Parks were closed and all hikers, visitor center people, bikers and river rafters were not allowed to enter. Those with permits that were already in by 12:01 am on October 1, 2013 got to stay in but day or weekend hikers and campers and hotel stayers were all rounded up and kicked out. The state of Arizona stepped in on October 13th and paid to reopen parts of the park but river trips were not included, leaving over 21 groups of 15 or so people with $20,000+ of wasted money and 5 times as much time spent preparing for nothing.
Our boats were in the water on September 30th so we were the LAST group on the river for the 17 days the canyon was closed. This is unheard of in one of the most sought after rivers in the world, especially since we were warned that battling other groups for the best campsites would dominate our trip. We had beautiful waterfalls and pristine stream hikes all to ourselves and we didn’t see a soul other than our group members (and two illegal backpackers) for the last 9 days of the trip. Two days we didn’t even get on our boats at all, choosing to lounge at our campsite and go on a long hike just because there was no rush. It was absolute bliss, and it is crazy to think that a mere matter of hours separated us from the ultimate adventure experience and not having one at all.
I don’t know how to talk about it really. How do you explain a trip that you feel so guilty for being allowed to take but still so grateful for anyway? How do you talk about something that was so incredible and also just another part of your daily life? How do I really want to remember it?
The days got shorter as we went, leaving us with 7am mornings followed by 8pm bed times. We’d get up and mill around the stove sipping coffee until 8 or so and then pack up the tents and kitchen onto our boats. The hours spent on the river varied from large foreboding rapids to lazy floats in the sunshine, often worrying more about tan lines than throw ropes.
Around noon we’d stop for lunch at an appealing beach or overhang, rolling out the table and emptying the dry box and cooler of the planned meal, milling about like birds because taking the chairs off the boats was too much work for a lunch stop. Some days we’d pull over for a waterfall hike or to explore a slot canyon for a few hours, returning to our boats to float another few miles before settling on a camp that looked good.
We usually arrived around 4pm, pulling our 4 boats up next to each other and beginning the process of unloading the boats and setting up the kitchen. By 5pm we usually had cocktails in our hands, facilitating conversation and making the wait for dinner pass quickly. Each trip member was in charge of two nights of dinners and we all rotated with dishes, though inevitably certain people were more proactive than others. Some nights we’d sing songs around the guitar and other nights we’d just watch the stars come out, repeating serene exclamations of wow and holy shit to each other as we drifted off to our tents or cots.
It was a wonderful trip, full of adventure and relaxation, hard work and easy laughter. Our group got along well (mostly – there were about 18 days in the middle where I avoided one guy. Some people just don’t click) and we were lucky not to have any major boat flips or injuries. We couldn’t have asked for a better trip or imagined a more wonderful outcome.
Yesterday, talking to my dad about the adventure, I mentioned that I wasn’t sure I’d want to say yes if I ever got the chance to take this trip again. These circumstances were so unique and perfect and amazing that I wasn’t sure anything would ever compare. It would suck to attempt to recreate an experience and have no chance of coming close.
Instead of answering he told me about his brother’s trip a few years ago and how it had rained so much in the days leading up to it that the water level was twice as high as usual, making rapids that we didn’t even stop to look at much, much more dangerous and exciting. With that story I was reminded that every experience is different and worthwhile; we never seek to recreate the past, only use those moments of familiarity to heighten the present.
This trip was once in a life time for a hundred reasons, but the things I choose to do in the future will be even more unique and wonderful in a hundred other ways. At least I hope so.