I've got the Yellow Fever

It's time for another Passport stamp!

This summer I'm going to Ecuador for a study abroad program. I'm really excited and can't wait, however, heading on an international trip always means a visit to the Travel Doctor.

Travel Doctor is this fantastic woman I always go to whenever I'm preparing to leave. She has helped me with trips to China, Haiti and now Ecuador.

I made an appointment with Travel Doctor for a Friday I knew I'd be home. We sat down and talked about the trip. I got to color in parts of Ecuador with a highlighter and told her exactly what we'd be doing.

We looked over my records and Travel Doctor let me know that I should get tested for Hep B because I'm half Asian.

Hot Dog. I'd be pretty pissed if I was Hep B + because I paid a lot of money for that vaccine a few years ago. I'm also going to put that test off though because even with awesome health insurance, I can't afford to be diagnosed with Hep B either.

Anyways, I needed to get a few shots for this trip. One being Yellow Fever, a vaccine I've never had before. Travel Doctor tells me the vaccine isn't required to get into Ecuador, but parts of the country have had Yellow Fever outbreaks.

She goes on to share with me that 30-50% of people who get Yellow Fever die an incredibly painful death.

I tell her to shoot me right up.

It was kind of a weird vaccine. She had to mix these two different viles and make one giant shot. Travel Doctor looks at me and suggests I relax my arm.

I do.

Travel Doctor proceeds to stab the back of my arm---a place where no needle should enter. It pinched, but I didn't think it hurt that bad.

Until the next day.

I should actually say later that night.

Good Lord, my arm was in serious pain. I totally couldn't sleep.

It continued to throb for almost 3 days. I was convinced I was having some sort of allergic reaction and was going to die the terrible, horrible death Travel Doctor warned me about.

Then on my way to the airport early morning of day 4, I fell down my apartment stairs.

Needless to say, the arm no longer hurt.

I got the Yellow Fever and this is all I have to show for it:

Lubbock or Leave It....

I have a hard time lying. Always have. Game face you say? Don't have one.

My face gives me away. Every. Single. Time.

So believe me when I say, I actually really like Lubbock, TX.

(Que random looks)

Lubbock was my first stop on the 2012 Southern Loop of Fun and since I've been there before, it was like greeting an old, windy friend.

If your Texas geography is a bit dusty, Lubbock is in the West. Close to New Mexico. A major College town in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by fields, random bars and a whole lot of university spirit.

Sound Familiar? I did hear somewhere that Pullman is the Lubbock of the Pac-10...

Not only do we have the rural connection, but we've now got Mike Leech, the New head Coach at WSU. He's also the Pirate guy I keep hearing about who is going to bring the glory days back to my WSU Cougs and the entire town of Pullman. People were actually excited that I went to Wazzu. I even met a few who had Coug Gear and were very much looking forward to our next Football Season.

I don't think I've heard that when referencing the Cougs in a long, long, long time...It's usually more of a "Dear God, please let us win at least one game this year..."

(That, and "I hate the Huskies").

Other then the severe devotion to football, there are a lot of reasons to enjoy a jaunt to Lubbock. Good beer, Good people, Good eats and Zero Traffic.

Main Reasons for Lovin' Lubbock...

1. The event I was at today was pretty laid back and I met fun and interested students. I heard more 'Yes Ma'am's' and 'Ya'lls' then I have in my entire life. I like being called Ma'am. Maybe it's because it sounds so sweet when its delivered in a Southern dialect.

I'm going to teach myself to talk Texan.

2. TTU has a troupe of All-Male, Cowboy Cheerleaders (don't call them Cheerleaders to their face) who carry around Cowbells and bring the spirit to football games. They came to the event and rang those bells. Loud. Nearly gave me a heart attack every time.

They are called the "Stampede Tramps"

No. That's not a typo.

3. Rudy's BBQ. It's a gas station and a BBQ place all in one. And it is amazing. I'll admit. At first I was a little concerned. I don't have much trust in gas station food.

Really, Why would I?

However, you walk in and are overwhelmed
with the beautiful scent of ribs. Picnic tables are set up underneath Texas, Military and US Flags. There are buckets (literally) of ice tea. You can order meat by the weight and there are troughs of beer and soda. They're known for their banana pudding too.

I don't think it gets any more American than this:



4. My Holiday Inn is located on Avenue Q. The theater nerd in me was tickled by this information.

5. Modern Day Cowboys. They've got the boots, the hat, the jeans. Everything I imagined a Cowboy to be.

But wait. There's more.

They've got Ipads and Starbucks in hand.

Talk about Thoroughly Modern.

6. Really, Really nice people with adorable stories. I met a woman on my flight who was 82 years old. I don't know what her name was, but for all purposes, I'll call her Rose because she totally reminded me of Rose Dewitt-Bukater from Titanic. She was on her way to Kansas City---where she is 'wintering' after having visited her 81 year old boyfriend. They met each other almost 60 years ago when they worked for the Railroad. Both were married at the time and lost touch after he moved away. Just about 6 years ago, he looked her up. She'd been a widow for about 12 years, he almost the same. Now they are dating. She made it clear that they weren't going to be getting married though---just have fun hanging out, eating dinner and going to shows together.

Rose was so worried about me traveling alone. I didn't tell her how often I set off on my own. She has a weak heart, no need for to unnecessary stress out a stranger.

(I stress out my family enough)

7. Lubbock is home to Buddy Holly. I don't know any Buddy Holly songs, but I do like that his glasses are totally popular right now. I stopped off at the infamous Buddy Statue. It's where all the locals recommend. It's here and the Prairie Dog Farm or bust. Next time I'll try and make it to the Museum.




8. Beautiful Sunsets. The night sky sure delivers here in Texas. I swear, this photo has not been altered in any way. It's just that stunning.


***In order for this to be a no bias, no bull kind of post, I have to at least one or two 'Leave-Its' about Lubbock.

(Obviously a result of my fair journalism training at the Edward R. Murrow School of Communication)

1. Airport Security:
Are you kidding me Lubbock? I swear, they're one of the toughest and the slowest I've been through.

I know how many crazies must fly in and out of Lubbock every day, but seriously.

The LUB just got an upgrade in the form on a Security X-Ray machine. After I got scanned (which took a very long time) They needed to check my Right Wrist.

Just the wrist.

There was nothing on my right wrist. No hairband, no bracelet. Not even a tattoo.

Just flesh and bones. But it got its own mini pat down.

Curious cat that I am asked, "What's wrong with my wrist? Did you see something in your little box that I should be concerned about?"

He glared at me with scary Texas eyes. I didn't want to get stuck in Lubbock, so I left it alone.

2. Budget Rental Car:
Conversation:
Man-We have to charge you for a windshield chip.
Me-I completely disagree.
Man-Well, you didn't purchase the extra coverage, so it's your responsibility.

I tried to be a bit more mean, but I couldn't. Like lying, I'm terrible at being intentionally rude to anyone outside of my family.

We go out and look at the windshield. There aren't any chips, damage, bug juice or dirt on the thing.

Man-Sorry.
Me-Liar.

Never again. Thankfully I had them double check. I'm convinced they were trying to take advantage because I was a woman. Or Short. Or Left-handed.

I should totally have done what Californians due best and sue them.

What a Lubbock party foul.

Heartspots #1: New York City

Along with my "stories behind the photos" idea, I also came up with "Heartspots"

You'll notice, it's like Hotspots, but all of the places I plan on writing about a near and dear to my heart.

Hence, Heartspots.

(You know what you signed up for when you clicked on my blog. Cheese, Laughs and Love.)

From time to time, I'll post thoughts and reflections on some of my favorite places.

Again, I have been so lucky in life when it comes to travel. I've had the opportunity to really use my passport, go on adventures, see a small portion of the world. I've been 'at home' on 3 continents, I've made friends around the world. And thanks to Facebook, I've been able to keep them.

There are some places I've been that I literally never need to go to again. Once was enough (Prague). There are other places where I would love to set up shop and never leave again.

So, with that, I bring you Heartspots #1: NYC

Unless you know nothing about me (thanks for reading by the way), no one should be surprised that NYC was the first place I'd give a shoutout to.

It is literally my favorite place in the world. Whenever I breath in the city air (the good scents and the bad) I feel so completely alive.

No other place I've ever been to gives me that freedom and feeling.

I was 18 years old when I first made my way to the Big Apple. It was in July of 2001. I had big dreams of one day visiting New York, but had no plans of ever making it across the country. If you knew me as a child, you'd understand. I was the kid who stuck close to home. I was quiet, not very bold and a bit of a momma's girl. I liked home. I liked where I was at.

Frankly, I didn't know any better.

It wasn't until my Auntie told me about a UMW Social Justice conference for young women in the city that was not only an amazing opportunity, but free.

I applied and got accepted and I was on my way a few weeks later.

I spent a few days alone in the city before my conference started. My parents and I sometimes laugh at how they put me on a plane to a city I had never been to and had no friends in, with no cellphone, and just sort of trusted the Universe would take care of me.

I still remember calling them from a payphone to let them know I made it safety (and that I had just run smack dab into Tom Selleck*** Good story alert---why you may ask is meeting TS so much more then random? For answers: read on at the end of this post.)

I roamed that city on my own. I had never really been independent. I never had to be. I learned how to use the subway (I only got yelled at once) I bought my own Broadway tickets (now a struggling B'way addict) I saw everything my little girl eyes had dreamed of. I even crossed paths my then idol, Katie Couric. It was my own version of 'When Michelle met Manhattan'

I give my semester in Ireland a lot of credit for giving me the travel bug and making me see how small the world can be, but this trip to NYC made me feel like an adult for the first time. It gave me this quiet confidence that I could, and would, be okay as I prepared to leave home for college. It gave me a satisfaction, calmed a lot of fear I had at entering this new stage in my life. I look back at this trip and think, well, number 1. What the hell were my parents thinking?

(I know, I know, pre-September 2001 was a different world.)

And number 2. Thank you parents for letting me go.

There are a few moments in my life that I would consider adding a BC to.

There is BC WSU, BC 9/11, BC Ireland

And of course, there is BC NYC.

It's funny, I've been to NYC many, many times since then and it is still this place that I idolize and crave.

I guess you could say, NYC is my crack.

I've had friends ask me why I haven't just made the move. I don't think I could. I need a place that reminds me life is meant to be lived. A place that I can run to.

And plus, I live off of an educator's salary. And a severe fear of not being able to pay my bills.

Besides, too much crack is never a good thing. But just a dose here and there-----Perfection.

(Note: I have never tried Crack, nor do I use or condone the use of illegal drugs.)

***So, the fact that I met Tom Selleck is actually quite funny. All of my life, my mother had told my brother and I we had different fathers (crazy sense of humor that Mom of ours) For my brother, it was Harrison Ford. For me, Tom Selleck.

I should have just gone up to him and been like...."Hi Daddy!"

That would have been a fun game.

Why Hoarders has Ruined my Life

When I was younger, I had a minor bout with Juvenile OCD. That acronym was attached to me years before it became trendy.

(I was totally diagnosed...not like all you fakers out there).

It's been a good 15 years since I "grew out of it" (Doctor's term, not mine) and although I still have a few obsessions (Hello, Ryan Reynolds), I'm as next to normal as the average awesome girl.

That was until I watched a marathon of "Hoarders" on netflix.

My god.

There should be a warning before that show that explicitly states: May trigger or cause any and all forms of mental illness. May cause sleepless nights and extreme needs to clean. May be the root of itching, twitching and nausea. May ruin your life.

I feel for these people, I really, really do. I don't understand it, but I know what a struggle fighting your mind can be.

Still, after viewing a mere 15 episodes, (The more I think about it, the more I wonder why in the hell is this a TV show???) I literally had to cut it from my viewing cue. As overused and cliched as it sounds, like a train wreck, I couldn't take my eyes off this damn show.

And it really got to me.

I started to obsess over the tiniest bits of dirt. I tore apart my closet, I swept under my bed. I even cleaned the stove (which hasn't been used in over a year. I'm never home, don't judge.).

I facebook updated that I was "Spring Cleaning" a normal, respectable beginning of the year activity. What I was really doing was purging, tossing and getting rid of everything I considered excess.

If you've ever seen my apartment, you know I don't own a lot. With one closet, I don't have the space for stuff...yet I was able to get rid of 4-13 gallon bags of trash/recyclables and 5 or 6 bags of belongings.

It's amazing how much you can get rid of, yet when you look around after wards...it looks exactly the same. To give you a better idea of my struggle:

My Living Room Pre-Hoarders:




My Living Room Post-Hoarders:


Okay, that's a bit of an exaggeration, but I think there needs to be a reality show focusing on people who aren't Hoarders, but have convinced themselves that they are.

It's an illness.

I'm being serious.

Seriously.

Sayonara San Diego.

I'm in mourning right now.

It may be true, I am one for the dramatics (at least internally), but the recent change of my regional travel has finally hit me.

For those of you who don't know, I spend a good amount of my life on the road (cue the oddities of the road I wrote about in my last post). For the past few years, I've been earning frequent flier miles all over California, Washington, Colorado and Alaska. I love the West Coast. I grew up here. My family lives here. There's a reason I moved back to this side of the country. I live for the water, the mountains, the beaches, the sun, the traffic.

And now, due to recent a recent regional rep-mageddon, I'll be focusing my travel talents on the South. No, not Southern California. The real South. The South the Media seems to warn us Northerners all about. I will admit, the few trips I took down South last semester were really fun, sociological experiences that were fantastic Grad School assignment material. I wrote an entire paper on race based on my trip to Mississippi.

So, first, let me explain. I always try to be positive, to see that damn silver lining, to enjoy what life throws at me because essentially I'm a pretty lucky kid.

With that, I've realized a few things:

1. I am looking forward to seeing new places. I've never been to Oklahoma or Arkansas. After people give me funny stares, they always back peddle with saying good things about them. I really enjoy musicals, so I'm counting down the days till I can sing the theme from Oklahoma...(Ok!)

2. I am looking forward to making new connections and getting to know new universities. Everyone I've met so far has been incredibly nice and welcoming. There's something to that whole Southern Hospitality thing.

3. I am looking forward to adding to my growing list of tales from the road. I've already got one or two from Texas. Things really are bigger there.

4.I am looking forward to finally figuring out how to order a meal at a Sonic. (It's way more confusing then you'd think).

5. I am looking forward to being able to proudly use the term "y'all" I just really like how easily it rolls off the tongue. I also think it saves a lot of time and breath during any given conversation.

I am.

However, I'm having a little trouble coping. I realized this week that a whole lot more is going to change for me then just the final destination of my airplane .

I'm trading in this:


For This:

I'm trading in this:

For This:


I'm trading these:

For These:

And although I know I can rock the boots, I'll admit, tensions right now are high. I'm losing my friends and the family I've made on the road. I'm losing the comfort of familiarity. I'm still doing the same job, but having to learn it all over again. I know it'll only take a semester to figure it all out, and by the end of May, I'll totally be in my groove...but until then, I'm working through my confidence issues and holding on tight to my newly acquired cowboy hat.

(I don't actually have a cowboy hat. Part of me wishes I did though.)

There is something a little exciting about starting over. And then, in a reality, there is something that really, really sucks about it.

My Kickboxing instructor inspired me to nickname this semester the "Fake it till you Make it 2012 Spring Relay of Southern Fun".

I totally got this one Chuck.

Life of a Road Weary Road Warrior

I made the realization yesterday that I know the staff of my favorite San Diego Holiday Inn Express better then I know my Landlord.

(For any travellers out there, HIX Seaworld is the best hotel in SD. Not because it’s nice (it’s surrounded by nudie bars), but because the staff are phenomenal. They have had zero turnover in the 3.5 years I’ve been staying there…Shoutout to Luz!)

I've lived in my current apartment for just about a year. Our complex is small, maybe 10 units. My landlord lives on the property. In a normal life, our paths should (and would) cross quite frequently. I see my neighbors in passing two or three times a month. I write them thank you notes on colorful post-its for organizing my mail while I'm gone. I don't even know the name of the man who lives below me.

Is that weird?

For a Road Warrior like myself, nothing is normal. In fact, we try to live the most normal life possible, in the most abnormal conditions.

I started this “Up in the Air” lifestyle almost 4 years ago. It was a job and a position I never really thought I’d end up in.

(Who grows up wishing to be a traveling Study Abroad Rep? I wanted to be a Senator’s wife…or a princess. Neither of which ever came through for me.)

My commute is a little different then most. I wake up, I get dressed, I grab my suitcase and head out the door. Whereas most people return home at the end of the workday, I see my apartment on the weekends.

I have two of everything. Two toothbrushes, two deodorants, two hairbrushes, two iphone plugs.

(I’m kind of sounding like a child of divorce)

I have a suitcase that is always packed. Sundays=Clean Clothes. Thursdays=Dirty Clothes. My belongings rarely see the inside of a dresser drawer. Suitcase to washing machine and right back to the suitcase.

My bags are filled with Southwest drink coupons, old peanut wrappers, crumpled receipts and more often then not some sort of company swag.

My office changes daily. Most of us don’t even have a desk. And if we do, we never see it. One day I could be in LA, the next day I could be in New Orleans. One day I could fall asleep in Oakland and wake up in NYC (those are my favorite days). We take “change of scenery” to the extreme.

It’s a take it or leave it lifestyle.

For now, I’ll take it.

Story Behind the Pictures #1

If you know anything about me or you've ever traveled with me, you know I take a lot of photos. An obnoxious amount of photos. I always seem to take a lot of photos of people. They turn out so beautifully. I wouldn't ever call myself a photographer, but I love clicking away.

A lot of people have asked me to tell them the story behind some of my photos, so I thought I'd post a few here every once in awhile. Starting off with a couple of my favorites.

Photos:

Taken in Feb. of 2007
Banaue, The Philippines




This photo is one of my favorites from my trip to the Philippines. I had been living in Japan for almost 8 months and decided to take a vacation back to the mother land. My Aunt, last minute, decided to join me. Growing up, I always thought it would be neat to go to the country where my mother was from. I never really thought I'd make it happen, but the opportunity arose and I couldn't pass it up. It may have stressed my entire family out, but I'm so glad I went.

I had made a list of all the places I wanted to go and Banaue (famous for the rice fields---also an 8th wonder of the world) had been on the top.

With such a packed itinerary, our little group (including a driver, a tour guide, and a security guy) traveled during the night, we spent more nights in the car then in a bed. We arrived to Banuae early morning and were able to meet a few of the Igorots or aka the Ifugao people. Igorot basically means "mountain people" This group, (clearly out for tourism purposes) was dressed in traditional clothing and were playing various instruments. You can see, the man playing the flute with his nose.

(I tried it once with my tin whistle...Harder then it looks)

The woman though, is the gem of the photo. I love that I caught her winking at me. I love the beauty and the depth of her wrinkles. I love her gorgeous, friendly smile. I can only imagine the life she has lived, the wisdom she holds and I think I even caught a glimmer of mischief she has.

Here are a few more of the Igorots:



This group of women were at a different site. I'm not quite sure their vision was very good. I think at least two of them were blind. You can see the rice fields peaking out in the back.

The fields, all man made and run without modern day tools were amazing. You could see people working in the fields, their backs hunched over the watery land. I can't even imagine the labor and the pain they must feel at the end of the day. Talk about a hard day's work.

My convoy and I were only in Banuae for a few hours, but it quickly became one of my favorite places.

Hello, My Fellow Americans.

First of all, this being a new blog, let me introduce myself so we can dialogue. My name is Michelle...

Yes. I did sort of steal that line from a television show. (Go R&I!)

Yes. If I were to read the title of this entry out loud, I would sound like Sarah Palin. (Or more accurately, Tina Fey playing Sarah Palin.)

No. That SNL skit will never get old.

In case you, the readers (anyone out there??), have yet to pick up a new calendar, are suffering from amnesia or just don't care about the present, we entered the year 2012 just 17 days ago. The world has yet to end, but we've still got 349 days to worry about that.

So with a new year, I thought I'd be stereotypical and start a new blog.

Yes. I'm super trendy. Thoroughly Modern you may say.

I love the scent of a new blog in the making. It's like a fresh piece of college ruled notebook paper. Or a new pack of post-it notes. Just much more environmentally friendly. I feel like blogs these days have to have a purpose. DIY, Mother's to be, Knitting, Cooking, Loosing weight, etc.

I must warn you now. This blog will not be like that. This blog will reflect my inability to commit. It will be messy, and all over the place...with an underlining tone of OCD meets ADD. If I haven't quite figured out my own purpose in life, how can I expect my blog to?

A lot of change has come with 2012, and consequently my 29th year of gracing this planet. It's been an insane few weeks. After what seems like the world's longest holiday season, I go back to being a road warrior, a student and a full-time functioning adult by the end of this week.

I decided during a bout of boredom and the fear of a sedentary lifestyle, that the last year in my 20's should be filled with self-indulgence, self-awareness and a general sense of self-ishness.

I've never really been a me, me, me kind of person, never will, but I also realize that there's a lot I've given up as I've tried to climb all of society's ladders. (No regrets, hommies, no regrets). I figured, no time like the present to figure out new interests and create new stories.

I sat down one quiet Friday night (I'm a bit of a loaner. By choice. Seriously) and made a list of all the things I'd like to try before the clock strikes on year 30. I wanted to do things that would help me develop as a person. I didn't want a list of goals that depended on other people (no love match, no babies, no aisles or rings) but a list that was filled with activities and challenges that will help me grow and give me a sense of fulfillment.

(Note to my mother who may, or may not be the only person reading this: Just because this list of goals does not include marriage or babies or houses...it doesn't automatically mean those things aren't on a different list. I swear.)

I guess you could consider it a bucket list for the year. Maybe Fox Searchlight will turn me into a movie.

(Yes. I do think I am just that interesting.)

So my first two tasks of the year are as follows:

A. Learn how to properly shoot a handgun. And become damn good at it.
B. Learn how to properly belt a show tune without harming any animals, humans or household breakables in the process.

Why, you may ask?

Because, well, I figure there's no time like the present to prepare to play Annie Oakley in Annie Get Your Gun.You never know when the opportunity might arise. There has to be a Broadway revival in the works...

But really, I love the power of knowing how to use a weapon. I'm not all gun crazy, I promise (Go Dems...), but I do love being able to hit that target. I also love singing in the car, the shower, walking down the street and randomly at Target. I really would prefer people giving me looks of admiration, rather then looks of horror.

Laugh as I hope you are, I have a 4 hour how to shooting lesson and a set of SLS vocal classes in the works. (Thank you groupon).