Too Young to be Platinum

A few weeks ago, I arrived at XNA to fly home with my usual airline, at the usual check in time, with the same luggage, ID, and demeanor. I didn't recognize the woman who was behind the counter, and she informed me that she was the regional manager visiting the airport for the day. Since the airport is so small, it is sometimes tricky to get help, so she was happy to check me in. I handed her my ID, she looked me up, and gave me a worried look.

"Oh honey, you are much too young to be platinum."

I looked at her, and said, "26?" And she gave me a slight smile.

So, this made me start to think. Am I really too young to be a road warrior? I look at my friends who are at home, with their boyfriends or husbands, their beds, their routine, on a daily basis. They have fresh groceries and pets, happy hours and tv nights. I imagine I'll have that one day. But truthfully, if it wasn't for the long commutes by plane, the grueling hours at work, and the road warrior life, I wouldn't have found my passion for travel. Japan, Brazil, Australia, would still all be dreams. Being a "road warrior" funds my passion and the adventures I'm lucky to have.

The woman said to me, "Do you ever get tired of the travel?" And I thought for a moment. I thought about the miles and the hotel points, the wonderful people I've met who have truly become a part of me, the experiences I've had that all my friends are jealous of, and I smiled.

"No. I'm just waiting for the day the travel life gets sick of me!"

An Inspiration

I recently took my sister to San Francisco for her birthday. Because her chest is almost completely consumed with Hodgkin's lymphoma tumors, she needs to rest a lot during the day, and when forced to be active, usually begins to cough, sweat, and wear out very quickly. Therefore, we spent a lot of time together in our wonderful W hotel room. She has been telling me how depressed, and helpless, she feels that she is at a point where she isn't even well enough to enjoy her life.

After I encouraged her not to give up, I left to purchase something for her, and upon my return, found her fixated on the television. And we met Ami Ankileweitz.

Ami was being featured in National Geographic's Extraordinary Humans, and the specific episode was covering individuals who suffer from extreme muscle deterioration. Ami has Spinal Muscle Atrophy, a condition that has caused his muscles to wither away. Looking at him is heartbreaking, as he is nothing but skin and bones and wide, curious eyes. We watched with bated breath as the doctor's discussed his condition, and his will to live past the 6 years that were estimated to him, as he was now 41 years old. He weighs only 39 pounds and isn't capable of any movement below his neck.

Lo and behold - he attributes his will and years of life to his passion and desire to travel.

The discussion quickly turns to whether or not he should be allowed to travel to Thailand, a dream of his since he was 18. His tremendous passion to live and experience new countries has provided hope for him to continue on, and his family struggles with concern that he will stop breathing while abroad as the muscles in his chest have almost entirely deteriorated.

I almost stopped breathing myself, captivated by his story. Here was a man who looked sick, couldn't move, could barely communicate, yet did not lose touch with his dream to travel the world. The episode ended before the conclusion on whether or not he went to Thailand, but I don't think I will ever forget him. I hope with all my heart he made it, and I imagine I will be thinking of him one day when I walk Thailand's streets myself.

For information on the National Geographic episode: http://channel.nationalgeographic.com/series/extraordinary-humans/4923/Overview#tab-Overview

For more information on Ami: http://rogerebert.suntimes.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20051208/REVIEWS/51205004/1023

Packing Fails

Every year, without fail, I forget to pack something green to wear on St. Patrick's Day. Last year I borrowed a green sweater from one of my coworkers, but this year, I ended up in pink and black with little blue and black bruises (from all the pinching that occurred).

Which made me reminisce about all the other packing fails I've experienced (or heard of), such as:

1. Underwear. I usually don't mind so much if I forget it because I love shopping for it. Bonus enjoyment if it occurs during the Victoria Secret Semi Annual sale. Extra, high roller bonus if you're in a city without a car that only has a La Perla in walking distance!

2. Heels (client was not happy to see me in a skirt and Uggs all day). I was in the middle of Virginia where there was only one department store (and it was closed for rennovations), so I had to borrow a pair from a coworker, one size too big, and stuffed kleenex in the toe so they fit!

3. Makeup. Who looked like a puff fish all week?

4. Airplane pillow. When I forget my airplane pillow, I am a wreck, because it means I will not be comfortable sleeping on my flight. And I cannot stay awake. So forgetting my airplane pillow = most miserable 1.75 hours of my life.

5. iPod. I can fly without it, but not workout. Therefore, if I forget it, I can pretty much chalk up the week to eating way too many calories and drinking way too much, because that's what I'll do with the hour I was supposed to spend at the gym! Or, I'll go the gym, and walk around aimlessly. Either way, it's bad for my waistline.

Who am I kidding? I am miserable at working out during the week... But I am good at eating and drinking...

6. Tights. Which would be terrible in the winter, especially when you packed only 4 blouses for 4 days, 1 blouse only goes with 1 skirt, and now you will freeze to death because it's 30 degrees in the office! My friend Brie told me that if she packs a pair with a hole, and she has to "perform some mcguiver surgery in the hotel room."

7. Socks. Holla at the barefoot girl in tennis shoes, with blisters, leaving the gym.

8. Umbrella. I have countless stories of forgetting it, and looking like a drenched rat at a meeting because I had to walk 20 minutes in the pouring rain from my parking space. But on the upside, I have curly hair so it's not so terrible if it gets wet. However, wet hose, shoes, and pant hems are miserable in air conditioned buildings. 

But let me tell you... I have not forgotten underwear, an umbrella, or tights in a long time. I guess even the best of us can learn right?

My Travel Family: Ryan

I have been stopping by Ryan's stomping ground (aka the bar O'Laughlin's at XNA) for about three years.

But it was probably earlier this year when I was traveling to and from Arkansas alone that we became close. I found refuge sitting at his bar stool, listening to his dirty jokes, funny stories, and women troubles. I learned to see through his tall tales (like about how a shark apparantly bit him in the leg), appreciate his recent eBay purchases (including a Rocky Horror Picture Show costume), and admire the sensible passion he has for fixing up old cars (except for the time I saw him sitting in a car, in the pouring rain, that did not have a roof).

He is far from your usual man. In fact, the first discussion we ever had was about a pie he had just made, and how much he enjoyed baking pies.

Ryan is someone who makes you feel immediately comfortable, happy, and at home. He pours a pretty good vodka soda, and more importantly, he is such a joy and so much fun. I just wish he would bring his weiner (aka dog) into the bar more often! He was specifically a good friend during the difficult days of my sister's battle with cancer, when there were no friends around to talk to about her condition. Without fail, he'd always ask about her, with the most caring and understanding expression. And he's happy to walk back and through security to make sure I get a delivery pizza when I'm starving!

Ryan, you touched my heart. Thanks for all the care you've shown me.

PS You make one sexy Elvis...

My Travel Family: Karissa

Best friends are always fabulous. But combine road warrior and best friend, and I think you've pretty much created a soulmate. That's how I feel about Karissa, a very important person in my travel family!

Karissa and I started our friendship on the road, and have it taken it to many different locations besides our home-away-from-home in Arkansas. We've taken it to:

Santa Monica, California

Sonoma County, California

Denver, Colorado

 (We were unfortunately having too much fun to take photos...)

...and plan on taking it to many more exotic places (Spain, to name one). I've said before that it's the people that travel with you who really get to know you, from how patient you are to how nice you are to strangers to how well you can make the best of any messy travel snafu. They know what you love and what you hate, who you flirt with and who you avoid. No matter how much your personal friends may love you and try to know you, they will never know you as well as those you travel with.

I am lucky that she is both my traveling partner in crime, and my best friend.

The girl knows my Starbucks drink order. She knows if I'm hungover, I'm gonna be a little late to meet her downstairs for work in the morning. She knows she can always pressure me into having a few drinks with her, and she knows that, at times, I can be bossy and gossipy. And I know about the time her bag fell down the escalator and forever slumped to one side, and I know who she hates to sit next to on the plane. But it's nice not having to explain funny situations that happen to me on the road and look at a blank stare... because she was there to experience every moment with me!

Traveling has it's ups and downs. Sometimes you're going to be delayed, or your flight cancelled. Sometimes you'll be on vacation and catch the flu. Sometimes a boy broke your heart and you are stuck in a city without your friends and your bed and your ex boyfriend voodoo doll (just kidding). So it's just nice to know that there's someone who can make you laugh through it all.

Furthermore, she travels really well...

Lonely Planet? Yes Please!

I apologize for being out of touch. I was on an exciting adventure "down under", investigating unexplored terrains, jumping deep caverns, and wrestling against deadly animals... otherwise known as: I took a nice, long vacation in Australia. And it was amazing. Lots of new writing material!

Ecstatic to be near the ocean...

One of my best discoveries while in Australia actually occurred at the Sydney airport. I was feeling a bit perturbed, because sometime between when I arrived in Australia, and prepared to exit, I lost my Dromamine (an absolute essential for me when suffering through long flights). So, I went in search of a drug store that would carry it. Alas, I did not find my precious drug, but I found something much more interesting...

A Lonely Planet Store!

What is this?! I walked into the store, with it's warm lighting and climbing book shelves of travel books, and my eyes widened. The amount of unique and valuable travel accessories was outstanding. I found a book on Cape Town (my next adventure). I found unbreakable water bottles that included their own filters and displayed beautiful Japanese designs. And I found adorable, biodegradable cloth animals (kangaroos, koalas, and a whale) that adhere to a keychain or purse (bought six). I found a travel sanctuary.

I talked to the young woman behind the counter, and she explained that it was a concept store, the one and only of it's kind. I asked if it was successful, and she smiled and said yes, but there were no announced plans to open more. She asked what I did for a living, and when I lied and told her I was a travel writer (actually I said, "I'm a very well known and successful American travel writer"), she suggested I get in touch with their company and apply to do some writing for them.

I figured I'll see how successful my blogging becomes first.

Travel gurus and junkies, check it out:
http://www.lonelyplanet.com/press-centre/press-release.cfm?press_release_id=371

Australian Adventure Begins Unexpectedly

I have been very excited about my trip to Australia, and I had all kinds of adventures planned: climbing the Sydney Bridge, snorkeling trip to the Great Barrier Reef, wine tasting in the Yara Valley... But I was not expecting to start my adventures so early, at O'Hare International Airport!

When I checked in, the agent couldn't get me a seat on the flight which I was confirmed. Once I traveled through security and made it to my gate, the gate agent assured me I would miss my connection. So she sent me to another gate agent to get me on an earlier flight. That gate agent insisted that she could not get me on the earlier flight, and requested that I call the platinum concierge desk to try to rebook me.

Lesson Learned: always use the rebooking centers. They have more power, patience, and are more helpful, than any gate agent.

However, once I was confirmed on the earlier flight, my bag was still on the later flight, and the same gate agent who wouldn't confirm me, had to put in a baggage change order. I waited thirty minutes while she clicked away on her computer, as she continued to tell me it would be another five minutes until she finished her duties and could help me. I was getting impatient.

Well,  fianlly walked away and luckily found a gate agent willing to stop what she was doing to help. But it was too late. No guarantee my bag would be on the earlier flight. So, he put in an order to pull my bag, and I rebooked for the following day, and traveled downstairs to try to get my bag. But the most ironic part? My bag was never pulled, instead it was on the earlier flight (which I was confirmed on) and was on it's merry way to LAX, without me.

Lesson Learned: the baggage guys are the most overworked, misunderstood people at the airport. They are also the funniest and will put the most amount of effort in to help you. They spent more time trying to help me than any of the gate agents combined.

After two hours waiting for them to pull my bag (and then discovering it was already on a plane to LAX), a long taxi ride home, a bottle of champagne, and a few hours of sleep, my bag is still nowhere to be found. The baggage agents on the phone believes it is on a flight to Sydney. But they can't be sure. The woman on the phone explained to me, "We're American Airlines ma'am, not FedEx. We don't know where your bag is located at all times." Well, maybe you should be.

Lesson Learned: If you can help it, always always carry on. And always keep a bottle of champagne in your refrigerator, just for occassions like this.

How I Caught the Travel Flu

Many people explain the sudden, desperate need to travel as a "bug." But due to the feverish pitch, shakes, and sweats I get after spending too many days at home (home being a relative term between Chicago, Indy, and Arkansas), I would rather refer to it as a flu.

Which makes me wonder - when did I catch this wonderful illness? I believe I must go back to 2000, when I was invited, as a cheerleader for the Cathedral Fighting Irish, to travel to Ireland and perform in the millenium St. Patrick's Day parade. That was enough of an opportunity to make all 4 sufferable years at that school worthwhile.

When I think back to that time in my life, I was awkward, unsure how to find my place in a group of twenty girly girls and their mothers. Perhaps that's why I noticed so much about the country. I remember my fascination with the flower stands on every downtown corner in Dublin. I remember, in a smaller Irish town, seeing a newspaper with the Spice Girls on the front, thinking maybe it wasn't so different than home. I remember the castles and the cliffs and the beer and the green hills and the small twisty roads. I think I can even remember the moment I fell in love.

I believe it was in Dublin, on our tour bus, as I was taking pictures of what I saw in the city. I remember seeing a wedding chapel in a corporate building, and parked beside it was a giant flatbed semi with hundreds of kegs stacked up. And I just thought, what a lovely place. That's when I knew that there were lots of lovely places, places much more lovely than Indianapolis, in my future, to be discovered. All I had to do was find a way to afford my adventures and endure long plane rides to new homefronts.

And here I find myself, in my life, at the place I always knew I was supposed to be. With a comfortable plane pillow and plenty of Dromomine.

Another note about Ireland. As fascinated and bright eyed as I was in the country, I never felt more proud of myself, and where I was from. Lots of teenage boys who encountered us would flirt and fawn and make me feel, at the awkward age of 16, like a supermodel. They had never seen a cheerleader before. And I remember as we walked along Dublin, in our cheerleading uniforms, dancing and cheering to our fight song, all the little kids who had never seen a girl from America, smiling up at us with admiration, and I felt like a celebrity. So really, Ireland was the beginning of a more confident, wordly me. It is a beautiful place.

If Lady Gaga Was on my Plane...

In honor of Gagaloo's birthday...

I often wonder (as I'm sure everyone does) what I would say to Lady Gaga if she sat next to me on a plane. After much thought, I have decided on 10 particular questions I would ask her, and estimated what I think her answer would be:

ES: What items do you never leave behind when you travel?
LG: I always travel with the Haus. I always have one suitcase full of glitter that holds my disco stick. And I keep my lovers in a cage in coach. 

ES: If you could only choose one of the following to wear for the rest of your life, what would you choose? Masks. Hair pieces. Sunglasses.
LG: Choosing one would be like muder. But masks. I cannot live without them.

ES: Can I borrow your disco ball bra from Just Dance?
LG: No my love, but I will give you my disco ball mask from Poker Face...

ES: What is your favorite feature on yourself?
LG: My eyes, so I can see my little monsters.

ES: If you could only choose one gay husband, would you choose Perezzy or Elton John?
LG: After I got dirty with Elton at the Grammys, I had to break up with Perezzy, although he ate a chunk of my heart.

ES: I have never forgiven myself for missing your performance at Lollapalooza. How have you evolved since then?
LG: More chains, makeup, and teeth. Less disco. I've become addicted to my fans and the stage, I die without them. More provacative, but never brunette. And because you are a fabulous monster, I will tell you to be sure to attend Lolla this year...

ES: One of my favorite lines from your new album is "raise a glass to mend all the broken hearts of all my f***ed up friends." Did you write that for me?
LG: Yes.

ES: What was your relationship like with Alexander MacQueen?
LG: I don't know how I can survive without him. His art was scary, provocative, like me. He understood me and I would have worn anything he ever created.

ES: Why do you hate pants?
LG: Because I'm slutty.

ES: And if you had to choose between leather and lace?
LG: Nice girls don't kiss and tell.

I would probably close the conversation by inviting her to Costa Rica with my friends Karissa and Will, where we are going teach the monkeys that visit our jungle bungalow Lady Gaga dance moves. Specifically her new dance move from the Telephone music video, the "sandwich dance." We have been practicing.

Now I need to memorize her Monster Ball summer schedule and start looking for her at every airport...

The Heart of a Road Warrior

I am an American Airlines girl at heart. I've got the AAdvantage kind of attitude. And I love when AA runs their "Road Warrior" contest every year. I have actually considered entering, but with only 3.5 years under my belt, and the majority of my locations being "un exotic", I leave it up to the professionals.

You can read bios on each of this year's winners here:
http://www.aa.com/i18n/specialtyPages/business.jsp

Caryn Carson, one of the women featured, really worded it best when asked for her own definition of road warrior: A Road Warrior is someone for whom there does not exist a separation between “home life” and “road life.” It’s all your life — wherever you go, there you are.

I feel like that statement should be followed with an "Hallelujah" or "Amen Sista!" There will always be a physical separation between a life in one city versus another. Different restaurants, different people, but the same thoughts, feelings, interests. Unfortunately there will always be a disconnect between my non road warrior friends and my travel / work buddies. Because the friends that have been on the road with you really know you better than anyone. It makes me sad when I tell my friends stories about my travel life. The light bulb doesn't turn on, there's no empathy, because my travel life isn't real, isn't relevant for them. They haven't physically seen it, can't imagine it. 

But for me, it's my life. Which reminds of a quote: Turns out it's not where you are but who you're with that really matters.

Very true.

On a side note, I once went on a terrible first date with someone I met online. After several conversations, compliments, and laughs, we finally met in person and sat down to share pizza. He looks at me then, quizzically, and asks, "So tell me, why do you think someone would want to date you? I mean, you're never here. You travel every week. What kind of guy would want that?"

The right kind, the kind who understands. A road warrior.