Wanderlust

As an American, I can’t claim wanderlust as a unique characteristic. Lots of us living in the “land of free” take advantage of our privilege to roam. But in my 28-and-a-half years, I have learned about myself that I want to live out my freedom, experience my youth, for as many hours a day, as many days a year, as I possibly can. I actively choose not to live 9 to 5. I don’t believe in waiting to do what I love in the present on the bet that I can afford the time to buy it in the future. I won’t sit close to home waiting to travel — until my eyes are too dim to catch the beauty of the landscape, smalling up in a jitney cab becomes unthinkable, or my knees yell out if I try to hike a mountain.

What I’m trying to say is that I’m about to leave the country again. I came back to United States soil to be closer to my parents — which has been a dream — and now I’m taking a quick break, a couple of months to spread my wings. I spent this time in the U.S. saving up to buy a one-way ticket to Portugal — and now that this blog is caught up, I am hoping to post in real-time. (I’ve been really wanting to start calling you readers “fireside travelers” but “global warming” is making that impossible.)

supportive, creative, thoughtful parents

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“Gratitude naturally raises our energy levels to the highest vibration possible which allows the universe to provide abundance.” According to that sentence I just made up, I’m off to absorb more gifts from the universe. I am so grateful for my health, my freedom, that cement puppy Ricky, a generous job that I love, appreciation for this country, and a heightened awareness for opportunity, struggle, and storage space.

Right now is the youngest we’ll ever be.
With gusto,
(Who’s Gusto? And is he helping pay?)
‘mi

P.S. I’m changing my relationship status to “men seeking US citizenship.”
P.P.S. Just kidding, ladies.