I'm Moving Out of the Country

This couldn’t have come as a surprise to too many people, right? I mean I spend almost half of my time out of the country anyway. I love to travel abroad, take on new adventures, and make traveling accessible to those may not have known how to make it so. It makes absolute sense for me to move out of the country, RIGHT?? This couldn’t be shocking, right? So, who’s the most shocked person to realize they’re moving out of the country? ME.

When I tell people I’m moving out of the United States (and I haven’t told many people), there’s always a list of questions that start as follows:

1. What??? Girl, where you going?

2. Why you leaving?

3. When you leaving/coming back?

4. Why you aint tell noone? Damn!

I’ll attempt to answer these questions here. Bear with me though, it’s currently 4 a.m. and I’m writing this blog post on adrenaline alone. Mostly fear-based adrenaline, but we’ll get there soon enough. *grimaces heavily*

What??? Girl, where you going?

SURPRISE…I’m moving to Malaysia! Where is Malaysia? Hell if I know. I’m just moving there, nothing serious. Malaysia is located in Southeast Asia and is close to countries like Thailand, Singapore, Indonesia, and Vietnam. With a predominately Muslim population, my mom is banking on me coming back with a husband. I think it’s clear she’s SICK OF MY SHIT. LOL! Malaysia is a megadiverse country with a mix of Malay, Chinese, and Indian cultural influences. I already know the food ready to be popping. Let me know if you’re trying to come eat, I’m accepting guests!

Why you leaving?

Well….I WON A FULBRIGHT SCHOLARSHIP! Way to bury the lead, right? LOL I’m going to try to talk about this a little more in-depth, per my friends’ death stares and glances when I say “I just got a scholarship”. HERE I AM CELEBRATING MYSELF Y’ALL…see??? So for those of you who don’t know, a Fulbright is a Cultural Exchange Program funded by the Department of State in efforts to improve intercultural relations, diplomacy, and competence between U.S. citizens and other countries. Some call it ~presitgious~, I don’t know what that means. Either way, I feel very blessed to be part of a chosen few to discover a new country for an extended period of time…on the government’s dime OKUUURT!

When you leaving/coming back?

So…the exchange officially begins in January, but I leave mid-December. I’ll be in Malaysia for about a year. Once I leave, I’m not allowed to come back into the United States per the Fulbright contract. So, I’m really leaving, leaving y’all. For a whole damn year. Wish me luck!

Why you aint tell noone? Damn!

This one is probably the most difficult to answer. I guess I-I’m scared. I didn’t want to believe I was actually leaving, so I’ve ignored it for the past 8 months or so. Now that I’m about a month and a half away from departure, I can’t hide anymore. It must seem weird to you all that I’m nervous about this. Sure, I’ve done my fair share of traveling, so I may be more prepared than the average person, but that doesn’t supersede my fear. Terrified may be the word I’m actually looking for, but I’m trying to be a big girl here. I have never spent more than 2-3 months away from my family at a time, let alone be halfway across the world with a 12 hour time difference between us for a full year.

All of my relationships are going to be long-distance: friends, family, potential boo-thangs. ALLUM. People out here worried about their significant others missing them when they’re in a long-distance relationship and I’m out here concerned that I won’t survive without my lifelines.I know I’m being dramatic here (what’s new), but I think about all the big things I’ll miss and WOOH, the sadness. Has FOMO ever hit harder? Unsure, unclear, unaware.

I’m honestly so thankful that I have this opportunity. I know it’s big. I know it’s good. I know it’ll be worth it. I know! I know that God has been preparing me for this moment. I know this is a part of my calling. I know that this will open doors I hadn’t even dreamed about. I know. I’m so blessed to have a community here that I’ll miss, a family that promises to visit, and friends that swear they’ll keep me laughing thousands of miles away (I don’t doubt it). I’m still scared, terrified, and filled with fear; but more than anything I’m filled with gratitude and faith. I prayed for moments like this. Preparation has met opportunity, and it’s time to step up! Wish me luck my lovely wanderers <3

What scares you? Tell me about an experience where you were scared to take the leap but went anyway! Make me feel better about this move in the comments below!

Happy Wandering…

You Deserve A Vacation, Here's Why

You work hard. You break your back for the man. (Now sis, if you’re breaking your back for your man, you might need to find a new man, ok? But if your man is breaking your back...nevermind, I’ve derailed the conversation already) * Clears Throat *

YOU WORK HARD. You break your back for the man. You are on the job day in and day out. You give your all, smile when required, possibly even hold yourself back from snapping on your coworker because this job is paying your bills, and you can’t afford to not pay your bills. You compose yourself and “woosah” for the sake of keeping your apartment. You carry on.

Most people I know don’t get any paid vacation, but they do get unpaid vacation. What the f*** is that? How can I enjoy myself knowing my next check is going to be short? How will I make ends meet? All valid questions. The reality of the fact is that those with paid vacation rarely take it because they fear they will be seen as less hardworking by their employers. My response to that….BITCH WHERE? BITCH HOW? BITCH HUH?

Did yall know that Austria has required 22 days of paid vacation time and 13 paid holidays? France requires 30 paid vacation days and 1 paid holiday. New Zealand requires 20 vacation days and 10 paid holidays. This is government mandated. Here, in the US, we have ZERO. None. No required paid holidays. No required paid vacation days. I’m honestly thinking it’s time to move.

Stress and burnout cost the U.S. economy over $300 billion each year. Men who do not take regular vacation are 32% more likely to die of a heart attack. Women who do not take regular vacations are 50% more at-risk of a heart attack. Y’all can have that. I’m not ready to die breaking my back for the man. I’m taking my damn vacation time.

It honestly benefits employers when they encourage their employees to take vacations. Employees who regularly go on vacations have increased production rate, increased morale and motivation. They stay longer with the organization and their productivity skyrockets which improves long-term profits for the employer. WHY AREN’T WE GETTING MORE VACATION DAYS?

How many vacation days do you get? Do you get any? Let me know in the comments below.

Happy Wandering…

10 Things I Learned From Heartbreak

Here is the official list:

1. Shits tough bruh. It just is.

2. You are stronger than you think. Consider that you are no longer bawling your eyes out in fetal position.

3. Patiences is a motherfucker. I know I prayed for it, but damn I gotta be tested everyday?

4. Allow the people you love to be there for you. You don’t have to be the strong friend everyday. Let them help you carry this load.

5. Healing is a process; never an overnight fix.

6. You will grow regardless of how broken your heart is. Your light will reach the darkest of corners.

7. Sometimes people are shitty. That’s ok, forgive them anyways. Forgiveness is for you, never for them.

8. Never tie your worth to anyone except yourself. You are worthy because you deem yourself worthy.

9. This is a rollercoaster ride! Some days you’re on top of the world and the next day you’re crying on the verse mic. The duplicitous nature of humans I guess.

10. As long as you are the holder of all the love you require, you will never search for it in anyone else. Your love journey starts with you. Your love journey ends with you. Your love journey is just that, a journey, so be kind to yourself along the way.

Solo Female Travel: Tips, Tricks, and How to Not Die

So you're looking to travel alone, but you're not trying to die? Cool. I literally had the same thoughts before my first solo trip. Was I nervous? YES. Was I on the airplane considering turning around? YES. Did I cry and want to return home? At some point, sure. So why am I promoting it? What's the point? How did I survive? Stay tuned on the next episode of Dragon Ball-Wad. 

I want to make this easy for you to read, so I'll answer some main questions regarding solo-travel. Keep in mind that this is not a comprehensive list. If you have more questions, feel free to ask in the comments below! 

1. WHY IS SOLO TRAVEL MORE FUN THAN GROUP TRAVEL?

Where do I even begin? You are given the freedom to do exactly what you want to do. Museums? Go there! Clubs? Enjoy! Experiment with new delicacies? HELL YES. You have the opportunity to travel as you wish. You are not tied to anyone interjecting with their (undesirable) opinion. You eat when you want to, wake up when you want to, meet people on your accord, and live life on your terms. What could be better? It is a time for self-reflection and an amazing time to learn about yourself as a human being. It challenges you in the best way possible, pushes you outside of your comfort zone, and helps you grow. Want to adult real quick? Travel Solo. You learn to fend for yourself. You learn about the world around you, different cultures, and it makes you more open and susceptible to growth. 

This is not to say that when you travel with a group you don't grow, but you are more prone to fall into routine. More prone to stick to what you know. Less likely to experiment, especially if those you are traveling with are stuck in their ways. Solo travel is a chance for adventure, self-discovery, and has always been a place where I find my inner peace. It is a chance to reacquaint with myself and fall in love with who I am all over again. It is a chance to be proud of myself, a chance to explore what is important to me and ground myself. You can also use it as a chance to get schwasted, go buckwild, and live your best life with no judgement. Whatever works for you.

2. DO YOU EVER GET LONELY?

No. I'm a wanderer. I don't need nobody. Loneliness is for the weak. * EYEEE ROLLLL * Yes, of course I get lonely. There are times where it would be nice to have someone. Overlooking a breathtaking sunset, I wish there was a bae to hold my hand. Seeing something that sparks an inside joke, I yearn for my best-friend. If I start to feel sick I want to reach out for my mama. Loneliness is a normal and natural part of solo travel, but it's also what the whole experience is about. People are great, you love them, you need them, and you want them to experience these wonders with you. But just because you want them there, doesn't mean that you stop being there and it doesn't mean that they won't be there when you get back.

You have to take the good with the bad. In my experience, loneliness white traveling abroad have always been because I've closed myself off to those around me. There are people everywhere, you just have to go meet them. Loneliness is temporary, it fades. The traveling experience is eternal, you keep those memories for a lifetime. 

3. ARE YOU EVER NERVOUS ABOUT BEING TAKEN ADVANTAGE OF?

The simple answer is yes. As a woman, I am in constant fear of being taken advantage of (whether in America or abroad). This is the sad truth of the world we live in. There is a stigma surrounding foreign nations being more dangerous than America. This is something I'll go ahead and debunk. SHITS A LIE. I've been in many places I've felt safer in than I did at home. With that being said, I do usually check the crime levels wherever I go. It helps me feel better comparing the stats to those in the U.S. and understanding what my risk levels are.

All in all though, I suggest taking the same precautions you would at home. Stay cautious, don't get in cars with strangers, and never admit you're traveling alone unless you trust the person or you're in a hostel. I find hostels to be wonderful, welcoming places with seasoned travelers. If I'm looking for people to generally trust, I find those in the area rated highly on Couchsurfing.com and go from there. My best advice is to follow your gut. If something doesn't feel right, DON'T DO IT. Trust your instincts, they rarely steer you wrong.

HAVE MORE QUESTIONS? LET ME KNOW IN THE COMMENTS BELOW!

Family Vacations: The Good, the Bad, and the DONT DO IT!

AAAHHHHHHHHH…..family vacations! What could be better than taking a trip with the people who fed you, burped you, raised you, and annoyed the hell out of you? (I could honestly think of a couple of things, but let’s not go there). For the past couple of years, my family and I have been routinely going on family vacations. Throughout this relaxing and simultaneously stressful time, I’ve come to consider myself an expert at surviving family vacations. As a family vacay connoisseur, I’m here to tell you all about the good, the bad, and the ugly when it comes to dealing with your loved ones.

THE GOOD

It’s a momentous time to create memories with those you love most! You get to explore new places, bicker about what to eat, and compromise on things noone is really happy about. Oh, right, I’m supposed to leave “the bad” for the next section..right, right...moving on… Honestly, there is a lot of good that comes from spending a substantial amount of time with family. You break away from the daily stress of life and remove yourself from the “rat race” for a while. You also happen to be surrounded by people you care deeply about (no matter how often they get on your nerves). Through the hustle and bustle of life, it’s not often you get to sit down with your siblings or parents to ask how they’re doing. I’m not talking about the surface-level talks you get into during your weekly catch-ups, I’m talking about sitting down and asking “How are you?” on a deep and personal level. I’m not sure if you get to do that often, but I don’t, and family vacations give me a real opportunity to really connect. I’m forever grateful for that.

THE BAD

So this is the section where I can rant about the shxt we already know….there are some parts of family vacations that SUCK. It can be unbearable, but you make it through just like you made it through years of living with these people. There will be bickering, a possible fight or two (or eight), and there is almost a guarantee that your privacy will be violated. It’s basically like being a kid all over again, except instead of time-out (or a beating) you get the silent treatment and side-eyes and instead of wishing you could go outside and play, you wish you could go to a bar and drink yourself to oblivion. Outside...bar….same thing, right? Then there is the whole living in close quarters thing, smelling your brothers farts and dealing with their mess...not so fun. Hey, you’re going to argue with your family no matter where you are, so I’d much rather go back and forth on an island than at home, so I’m here for an argument, as long as we're in Jamaica!

THE UGLY

What could the ugly possibly be? I mean, we’ve already been through the bad. Well, for me the ugly was seeing my mom in a bathing suit. WHO AM I KIDDING? THAT WOMAN IS A BAD MAMMAJAMMA! Truly and honestly, the ugly was coming to the realization that as we get older, finding time for one another is going to be harder and harder. It’s understanding that my parents are getting older, my little brothers aren’t so “little” anymore, and we’re each embarking on journeys of our own. The ugliest part of family vacations is the overwhelming vulnerability you migh feel (I certainly did) while you’re surrounded by people who may know you better than you know yourself. The ugly is that there is good, there is bad, but you have to take it all in because it won’t always be possible or available. Life is short, and family vacations are a great time to cherish those you love most. So no matter how bad it gets, remember that these people are your family, and that means unconditional love and support, no matter how annoying and ignorant everyone is. Except for you.  

HAVE YOU EVER BEEN ON A FAMILY VACATION? WHERE DID YOU GO AND WHAT DID YOU DEAL WITH? Let me know in the comments below!

Professor Finesser: A HoodRat Tale

They dubbed me Professor Finesser. Professor because I’m well versed and finesser because I will finesse till the day I die. What is finesse? It’s figuring out how to bend the rules to your liking. I’m the master of bending rules to my liking. It’s a bit of my disdain of authority and a bit of my need to be rebellious. Now, I’d like to preface this story by saying that I am not the same person. I have grown. I have changed. I am transforming.  I’m also lying like hell. I do this stuff all the time. I’m pretty much filled with shenanigans. Now follow along.

The infamous hoodrat

It was a lovely day in Capetown, and me and the girls were out on the town exploring. We headed out in the afternoon and spent all day wandering through the streets. We headed back to our hotel room to change into warmer clothes-it was getting a little chilly. The girls took it upon themselves to sprucen up. Not I. I lounged. Picked up my leather jacket and was ready for our next adventure. They all looked so presentable. Lovely skirts and tops, jewelry, and even some light make-up. Me? Ha! Well, I had on flip-flops and a leather jacket. Casual stunt.
 

We ate, we explored some more, and as the sun escaped us we found ourselves on a randomly popping street. Bars everywhere, clubs everywhere, people everywhere. How did we end up here? I have no idea. Walking through the streets, one of the girls noticed a sign and claimed, “someone told me this place was popping! They have Afro-beats and Caribbean vibes, let’s go in!” I mean, all I had to hear was “Afro-beats and Caribbean vibes” and I was totally game! Now I’m yelling at them, “Come on y’all! The Afro-beats are waiting!”
 

Walking up to the place, we notice a long line forming. I mean it was long. Like long enough to force our group to stop and contemplate whether it was worth it. Now, I would like to say that I am not an avid club-goer, but when I do decide to grace a place with my presence, I refuse to stand in some line. And more than anything, I refuse to pay. I left that in my freshman year of college (before I knew any better). This sounds hella bougie, but this is real life. I’m not pressed enough to wait in line for a club--sorry.
 

So I look at the line, Afro-beats popping on the other side, I look at the excitement slowly draining from my girls’ faces, and I decide to take action. “Have my back and follow me”, I casually said. As I walked past the people in line, the dirty looks I got were comical. I had no idea what I was doing, but what could go wrong? When I reached the front of the line, I casually told the gatekeeper that we were on the list. He checked and didn’t find our names. Duh.
 

I insisted. Gatekeeper insisted. We were shortly transferred to the woman who collects money at the door. Now we all know that it is much easier to finesse a man in these situations than a woman. She gave no fucks. Told us we would have to pay $20 each. To our outrage she graciously changed the price to $15 a person. I wasn’t having it. The girls wanted to pay, I refused. As luck would have it, the club owner came down at this point in time.
 

He asked about the issue and I casually explained that we were on the list and had talked to a promoter earlier in the day. “Who was the promoter?” FAHHKKK  I don’t know! What am I supposed to say? Damn this is going to be so embarrassing. “I forgot, but I think it starts with an J….maybe Jayson?” I said confidently. He thought about it and said “You talking about Jamal?” An olive branch! Dear Lord! Yessssss “Yeah, that sounds right!” He checked Jamal’s list and didn’t find our names. Duh.
 

He looks at his security guard and says “go get Jamal”. I’m shook. Jamal is about to embarrass the hell out of me and I’m standing there just as casual as ever. I turn to my girls and they are all looking at me like I’m bat-shit crazy. And I can’t blame them...I AM. Who the hell does this? I sat there patiently waiting for Jamal to come down and blow my cover.
 

Jamal comes down…
 

The boss looks at him and says, “You know these girls, they said you put them on your list.” Jamal looks at us and I wave to him, “Hey! Remember we met you earlier on this street and you said you’d put us on your list.” He looks at me, looks at his boss, then looks back at me, then looks back his boss. Say something Jamal! SAY SOMETHING!  “Yeah, my bad, I forgot to put them on there”. WWWHHHHAAAAAAATTTTTTTTT. Did this random man just have my back??? What the hell is happening?
 

The boss looks at Jamal and tells him he needs to tighten up. Jamal acknowledges and heads back towards the Afro-beats. Before the boss grants us admission, the gatekeeper says, “they’re not even in dress code”. I look around at the beautiful women in heels and cut-out dresses staring at me in my flip-flops and leather jacket. Damn. I look at the boss and say, “really, after all you just put us through?” He looks at the gatekeeper and says, “I said let them in!”
 

BOSSS UPP!!!!!! He just sonned the gatekeeper on my behalf!
 

My girls looked at me in disbelief. Bitch how? I had no answer for them. I still don’t know. They dubbed me Professor Finesser. I wore the title with pride. We made our way to the Afro-beats and Carribbean vibes only for me to find Jamal hosting! I thanked him profusely and he let me on the mic for .2 seconds. He realized how wack I am and cut my mic. Regardless, we were granted entry. We made it to the Afro-beats! Can’t nothing keep me away from my Afro-beats. Believe me.
 

When was the last time you finessed? Let me know in the comments below!

To check out all my photos from South Africa, check out the Gallery tab

Happy Wandering...

I'm a Hero/Heroine: It's Really No Big Deal (But It Is)

I'm pretty much a heroine. No, not the drug you ignorant cracks... the female hero kind. Not to brag or anything, but I'm a savior, some might call me a prophet of sorts. I'm humbled, really. My humbleness comes from my hero stature. Did you catch that though? I'M A HERO. Please, save your applause. Any of you would have done it if you were in my position. It was nothing really, I just did what I had to do. Just casually hero-ing out here. No big deal. 

So how exactly am I a hero? Well, as the courageous big sister that I am, I stopped a full-on robbery from happening right before my eyes. Ok, this might be a little dramatic (but not really). Here is how I saved a life on a casual Saturday....

 

Heroines Need Sleep

As the heroine that I am, I needed my beauty rest. If I wasn't rested, I might not have been able to save my brother, so this part is important. I guess it would also be important to mention that about a month ago, my brother went on a solo-trip to Thailand. I told him to go to Indonesia, but he didn't listen to me. You'll soon see what happens when y'all don't listen to me. So he's off in Thailand, and I'm gaining my beauty rest, unaware that I'm about to save the world. It's early Saturday morning, and I get a call from my brother. I see it and ignore it...heroines can do that. I just figured I would call him back once I was up, alert, and aware. I never get to sleep in anymore *whining* I hate adulting.

When this man called me again, my spidey-senses started to tingle. He never calls twice unless its an emergency. I arose from my slumber ready for action, "what's wrong?!" I worriedly asked. As the gracious brother that he is, he apologized for waking me up early, I assured him it's a heroine's job to be there, not on the first, but the second call. He agreed. Formalities aside, I came to understand that my brother had been robbed in Thailand. Concerned, I asked if he was alright to which he claimed he was fine, just broke.

 

Heroines are Understanding

To understand how exactly my brother was robbed, you'll need to understand my brother. He's a wanderer, just like me, so he's adventurous enough. I know I'm on here giving you all tips on how to travel lightly, but this man is the epitome of a minimalist when it comes to travel. I usually venture off with a carry-on, but this man will leave the country with a backpack. Think a Jansport, a NorthFace, you know, the thing you carried throughout your 12 years of schooling. Yeah that. He literally gives no F***s. Inside he might have a pair of shoes, a couple shirts, a couple undergarments, and possibly another pair of pants...possibly. He's just out here living his best life, and I love him for it. 

So I can't necessarily tell you the details of the robbery because it's still under investigation. I'm totally lying; I barely remember the details because I was half asleep when he told me. Here's what I do recall: He was about to go on an excursion of sorts where you leave your bags with an attendant (maybe it was a water sport?). When he came back to grab his backpack (you know, the one with his whole life in it), everything seemed in order. It wasn't until he took a ferry to another island and attempted to rent a motorbike that he realized he had no money. All of his money was gone, although all of his other possessions were still in tact.

The attendants at the excursion had rummaged through his bag and stolen his money. Where was this money? Two zipper pouches deep in the bookbag. You have to unzip two zippers once you open the bookbag to actually find the money. Homies weren't playing no games. Since my brother travels like I do, with a good amount of cash, so as not to use ATM's and endure those annoying fees: he was truly broke. Attempts to use his Credit/Debit cards proved worthless as he didn't inform his bank he was travelling. 

 

Heroines Save the Day

Sensing concern in his voice and sensing my own concern, I jumped into HeroineWad mode. We needed a solution. He wondered whether he should just fly back to the States. He'd honestly had an interesting run on this trip (getting sick upon his arrival, little rest, and now getting robbed). It was a legitimate question, but one only he could answer. He was hungry with about $5 in his pockets. Should he use it for food? How was he going to get money? How long would that take? Where does he go from here?

He was riddled with questions and I was riddled with answers. I would send money via Western Union. I'm not sure how long it'll take, but I'll check. He should go to the closest Western Union. While trying to figure out how to use Western Union, my brother told me that he considered selling his clothes for some money. Mind you...the two shirts and possible extra pair of pants that he has packed. I laughed. He was serious. My heart grew in love for him, he's such a soldier! I advised that if push came to shove, he can always ask the hotel for a temporary job...HE ALREADY HAD. I love this guy. 

Meanwhile I began on my journey to understanding the Western Union process. After an hour and a half online and on the phone with customer support, I decided to just go to a brick and mortar location. Walgreens provided Western Union services, so I left my comfy house to embark on this journey. Hero. After reaching the check-out counter, I was informed that I can only use debit or cash. I lost my debit card a week ago. Off to Wells Fargo I went to get a temporary debit card. Hero. An hour later, I walked out to the ATM. Hero. The ATM told me to see a representative inside for the withdrawal, so I walked back in and stood in line. Hero. Shortly after, I made my way back to Walgreens and paid at the check-out counter. Hero. Within minutes, the money was available to my brother. Hero. 

The applause really isn't necessary y'all...I appreciate it though. As we can see, I've saved the day yet again. I don't do this for the fame or the recognition, I just casually enjoy saving my brother when he's in danger. Like I said, any of you (or none) would do the same if you were in my situation. It's been a pleasure to be your HeroineWad. 

When did you save someone? Let me know in the comments below!

Happy Wandering...

    

How to Plan a Trip with People Who Suck at Planning

I’m assuming you’ve clicked this link because, like me, you’ve also experienced putting together an excursion with people who aint shit. Don’t get me wrong, we love these people, we want to spend time with these people, and most importantly, we want to travel with these people! You know! Do something unique! Something out of the ordinary for a change! Expose ourselves to adventure! Let these thoughts ruminate. Ahhhhh paradise…

NOW WAKE THE HELL UP! This is not a drill! SOS, 911, all of that. This is a state of emergency, because you are realizing that these lovely people, although babbling about venturing off, have no skills when it comes to putting together the plan that will get y’all there. In a perfect world, I would think that responsibilities are divvied up, tasks assigned, and trips seamlessly booked. In the reality I live in, I’m running around like a chicken with my head cut off trying to make sure that everyone has this (passport), that (visa), and the third (some damn sense).

So, what’s the solution to planning a trip with people who suck at planning? Well….DON’T. It’s really simple. If you’re attempting to go somewhere with people who are not putting forth effort, maybe just don’t go with those people. Maybe find new people. Maybe find new people who will put forth effort. Maybe find new people who will put forth effort and appreciate your effort in the process. Maybe find new people who will put forth effort and appreciate your effort in the process and who won't drive you crazy! Yeaaaahhhhh….maybe that! That’s possible solution number one.

Possible solution number two takes a little more effort. If you’ve come down to read this, more likely than not, you’re pressed to go with these people. Maybe it’s your boyfriend who can’t get his shit together or maybe it’s your best friend who “never has time” to assist in the planning. Well...all yall “aint got my shit together” “aint got time to plan” heauxs, listen up! If you want to go on this trip, then you damn sure aren’t about to have me do all the work. Get your shit together or get lost, find some time because you’re not going to waste mine (aaayyyy that rhyme pattern though.. Trademark of WanderlustWad, All Rights Reserved).

Moving forward, if you’re hell-bent on taking these people, making this trip, and exploring with the “aint shits” as I’ll refer to them from now on, the first thing you’ll need to do is TAKE CHARGE. You’ll have to come to the understanding that the “aint shits” aren’t going to do much without a Commander in Chief! A President! A Leader! They need you. And since it’s become evident that you need them too, go ahead and assume that role. Understand that with great power comes great responsibility, and most of that responsibility is going to be annoying as hell. Hey, you signed up for this, not me.

Once you assume your position, you’ll be the one assigning tasks. “Aint shit number one, you’ll be finding us a place to stay for these dates.” “Aint shit number two, you’ll be researching activities for our stay.” Give them a due date on their assigned work and follow up with them regularly. If that means weekly, daily, hourly...whatever works best for you. Don’t give them too much time to lollygag because you know they will. You have to be on them!

Pro tip: Pick up a burner phone because the aint shits will start to ignore your phone calls and texts

Once you assume your position, assign tasks, and follow up with your aint shits, you’ll be well on your way to planning a trip to people who suck at planning. I mean what’s the worst that could happen? They’ll block you, make excuses for not doing the work, and you’ll end up on this trip alone. They are the “aint shits” after all.

Happy Wandering...

If You Don't Have A Passport CLICK THIS!

Many of you have kept up with my adventures, but when I ask about your adventures, one too many people have exclaimed that they don’t have a passport yet. When I inquire as to why, they usually say the same thing: “I don’t know how to do all that”, “It just seems like such a long process”, or my personal favorite “Aint nobody got time fo dat”. Well listen up sweetheart, you better make time if you’re considering traveling the world.

So, since y’all all lazy as hell, and need me to do everything for you, and refuse to google “passport”, I’ve arrived with some Primetime, Grade A, Valedictorian-level advice. Ok, it’s really simple as hell, but bear with me as I break down the 3 step process. Yall stay trying to make simple things beyond difficult.

STEP 1: Get An Application

You gotta start somewhere, so why not start with grabbing an application. Don’t know where to find one? Don’t worry, I’ve linked it for you here. I know if you scroll through, you’ll see that there are 6 pages filled with text...daunting. Have no fear, Wad is here! I’ll explain everything to you in a second, and it’ll only take a paragraph or so. Click that link and print it out. Once you do that, you’re almost halfway done with getting your passport! Was that so hard?

STEP 2: Fill It Out

Alright, so you’ve printed it out! I’m so proud of you! Now check out the last two pages and fill that out with your information. I don’t know what your social security or address are so I unfortunately can not do that work for you. This is something you’re going to have to do yourself. You can do it sweetheart, I promise it’s not hard. As you’re filling the application out you’ll see a place where there is a stick figure head. Your picture goes here. No, do not draw a self-portrait here. Go to a CVS, Walgreens, or maybe a Wal-Mart and get a passport picture taken. This should only cost about $10-$15.

To complete this application you’ll also need proof of U.S. citizenship (read: copy of front and back of birth certificate); proof of identity (read: copy of front and back of driver's license); and lastly a fee. You thought it was free? HA! Think again, this is the government we’re talking about. Go ahead and click here to see how much money you’ll need to cough up. Remember that you can only pay via check or money order. Do not...I repeat DO NOT consider cash or a credit/debit card. You will be turned away, denied, exiled, all of the above. Ok, not exiled, but you catch my drift.

 STEP 3: Find A Post Office

At this point you’ve completed the application, gotten a copy of your birth certificate and driver’s license, gotten your passport picture taken, and your check or money order together. All that is left is to go to a post office to turn in the application. There are certain offices that have passport services, and some even require appointments. I was able to find many with walk-in availability in my location. Not sure how to find out which post office near you has these services? Click here. Go with you full application and turn in your documents. You’ll be asked to sign verifying you are the applicant.

Sign that bish and then DIP! You OUT! YOU DONE!

I don’t want to hear any more of you complain about not having a passport. These are step by step instructions. It is easy. It is simple. I have made your life a breeze. Quit your whining. Cough up that $110 (if it’s your first passport and you don’t want it expedited) and call it a day. You literally pay this much to get your hair done. You pay twice this much to purchase shoes. Get yo life and your priorities in order. #thatisall

**NOTE: This info is primarily for those getting AMERICAN (U.S.A.) passports 

Happy Wandering...

Where in the World Am I?

If we're speaking literally, I'm currently sitting at my internship bored out of my mind. Trying to understand Excel, in hopes that learning this skill will one day be of use to me. I hate numbers, I have no idea how I ended up here. Give me some research and I'll finesse my way into understanding what's going on. Give me numbers and I'm stuck looking dazed and confused trying to figure out why Arabs invented Algebra. I'm letting down my people as we speak. 

So this summer, I imagined myself on beaches, on mountain tops and in caves, instead I'm stuck in an office with no walls, and a supervisor hovering over my shoulder. Don't get me wrong, the people here are nice enough, it's just not as I imagined my summer to go. How did I end up here instead of there? Well, you see, I'm in grad school. In some fatal attempt to understand my life, goals, and figure out a path, I willingly signed up for two years of mayhem. Two years that I'll never get back. I've met amazing people along the way, but I can't say that I don't think about quitting just about every other day. I end up not feeling as bad because a good number of my classmates actually feel the same way. They also, in an attempt to figure out life, have signed up two years of their life, in hopes of figuring it out along the way.

I've come to the conclusion that school is just a socially acceptable way to waste time, or postpone adulthood, or if you're lucky like ME, you're doing both at the same time! Want to drink till you're plastered on a Tuesday afternoon? That's unacceptable! You're a drunk! But when you're in school it's completely fine because "you're in college". Want to sleep till noon and ignore your responsibilities? How irresponsible! You're wasting your life! Step into a university and it is the norm. What is this "college" that we're speaking of? Sounds like a Narnia where real rules don't apply. 

Honestly, when we're putting it this way, school sounds really great! You ignore responsibilities, party till you're worn out, and sleep all day! You probably eat a bunch of junk at odd hours and binge watch a lot of television. It really IS Narnia.

Except then you graduate and realize you're tens of thousands of dollars in debt with no real plan because you didn't take the time to utilize career services, and now they're trying to charge you for their services, even though they were just free like a week ago when you were enrolled (or was that a year ago?). Anyways, the bottom line is that there is no bottom line. This is just the reality folks. Can I get myself out of this rat race? Sure, but that means I would have to trust in myself and my abilities...

AND I'M SCARED.  That's just the honest truth. I would love to quit college today, take all my savings that I have and travel the world, but I'm scared out of my mind. Scared of failure, scared of the unknown, scared of everything that might go wrong, scared I'll miss my family and friends, scared that it won't work out and I'll have wasted my life. But then I look around, and I see these people in their suits and briefcases, I see this building that I enter and this desk that I sit at, and it still feels like I'm wasting my life.

I don't know where I'm going, but I'm going to have to leave wherever I am pretty soon. If you feel the same way, stay tuned and maybe we can figure this out together!

Where are you, and where would you like to be? Let me know in the comments below!

Happy Wandering...

The Time I Met God

"When we go out there, put your head on my shoulders!" I looked at him eyes wide, then down at my hands...they were shaking. He gave me a thumbs up. You idiot, what are you doing? Who told you to do this? Trying to hold back vomit, I managed to whisper "ok" and muster a smile. He hooked his harness to mine and began the countdown "4..." Oh pleaseeee God no! "3..." Wait...wait a minute...hold on!! "2...." Just give me a second! I'm not ready!!! "1..." HOOMMAAAHGGAAHHDD!!!!

And just like that I was jumping out of an airplane 10,000 feet in the air. For a second, I forgot to breathe. The stranger latched to my back yelled out "WOOOOOOHHH" just in time for me to realize that I wasn't dreaming, I was really free falling...from 10,00 feet in the air...with nothing attached to me except a white man...sounds legit. 

Once he pulled the parachute, I flailed around a bit before settling into my harness. The view....breathtaking. This is where I met God. Reflecting in his image, I asked all the important questions...you know the ones. The ones you dare not say out loud, but constantly ask yourself. Where should I be right now? What am I doing with my life? Is he the right one? 

Cruising at 7,000 feet in the air gives me some sort of privilege. In a literal sense, I'm closer to God, so I'm sure He can hear me better. On another level though, I also just feel closer to Him. It's something about facing fears that feels enlightening or even spiritual. It's like you came, you looked danger in the face, and you trusted God to have your back. Lo and behold, HE DID! He had my back as I jumped out of that plane, off of that bridge, or into that ocean. It was at these moments that I felt closest to Him.

People always ask me whether I'm crazy, an adrenaline junkie, or searching for death. My response is that I'm searching for God, just on my terms. Because at the face of danger is where I have the best conversations with God, where I find the answers to the hard questions, and where I find perspective. My advice? DO EVERYTHING THAT SCARES YOU!

Want to watch the full video? CLICK HERE

What scary things have you done? Let me know in the comments below!

Which 1 of these 5 Travel Types are You?

You remember my article about group travel? (No? Check it out!) I outlined the do's and dont's of group travel, and the importance of making sure you have a similar (or at least bearable) travel style as those you're adventuring with! Also, it's just nice to know what kind of person you are when you travel. Check out the descriptions for each of these travel styles and self-actualize! Get to know yourself below...

1. Cameron the Cultural Connoisseur 

"That art museum looks cool! Let's go check it out!" Cultural connoisseurs love to learn, especially about the culture they're attempting to immerse themselves in. Always down to wander into the closest temples, synagogues, or mosques, these individuals might be interested in history. A lot of foodies tend to be cultural connoisseurs as they leave behind their home environment in a desire to become a part of the culture they visit-and a part of joining any culture means diving into all sorts of food, music, and dress. Rest assured that this individual will be checking you on your shit throughout your travels, ensuring you're using the right language, terms, and customs of the country. As the culturally sensitive one of the group, they will constantly check themselves and those around them to refrain from cultural appropriation. This person is usually very knowledgeable, might listen to Lauren Hill, Erykah Badu, or Kendrick Lamar and consider themselves "woke". 

Note: This person is not a culture vulture nor do they participate in cultural appropriation

2. Aisha the Adventurer

"It's Victoria Falls, we have to bungee jump!" Sound familiar? Your crazy friend who wants to jump out of airplanes, off of cliffs and bridges might be the adventurer of the group. This individual is always searching for an adrenaline rush. Something dangerous to get their blood going (and yours) always seems like the perfect idea. Their idea of a good time involves running with bulls, cliff diving, bungee jumping, sky diving....take your pick. These individuals laugh in the face of danger, and are naturally curious beings. They want to test limits and see how far they can go before something bad truly happens. "What are the chances of that?" might be a common saying among adventurers. This person loves to live life on the edge (literally and figuratively) and tends to have high energy. Adventurers tend to make friends easily and are likable in nature. They might describe themselves as "carefree" and their curious nature will probably get you in some sort of trouble (or fun) by the end of the trip.

 

3. Pam the Partier

"Ok, I just need a drink first." The partier is always down for a...you guessed it, party. They are looking for the closest bar to shake their tail feather at. They might be looking for love in all the wrong places, and usually find happiness at the bottom of a bottle of Jack or a glass of Rum and Coke. Since they are usually partying all night, they tend to sleep the days away. Don't ask this friend about daytime activities, they are not here for it. Find them a concert, a club, a bar and watch them come to life. Partiers know all the best music, know how to make the best drinks, and find the coolest spots to hang at nighttime. They are usually very well connected and come across a promoter, a club owner or a party friend wherever they are. Even in foreign countries, they are able to get you into VIP without much hassle (or money), find the hottest parties, and help you back it up against that cute guy or gal in the corner. They are essential, but steer clear of their drunken tirades and afternoon hangovers-not their best moments. 

4. Liam the Lounger

"Imma just chill." Loungers want to chill all day. The best part of their day is laying in bed, reading a book, taking a nice leisurely swim or something of the sorts. This traveler just wants to relax, their experience is one large vacation. This individual might like to blow down some green, wants peace and serenity at all times, and is easily uncomfortable when it comes to confrontation or imbalance. Possibly in tune with their chakras, possibly a lazy slob, loungers don't want to do much when travelling. They are quite fine sipping a pina colada on a beach, getting a massage, or getting into their newest novel from the point of arrival until departure. Don't talk too much to the lounger, they might want to hear about your adventure, but definitely not your drama. They came to relax, and anything disrupting that quiet time is not welcome into their sphere. Loungers might love long walks on the beach, romance, and flower petal filled hot-tubs......low-key they might be on a baecation. Let them live their best life. 

5. Collabo Chloe

"I want it ALL." Collabos are the most well-rounded of the travel types. They may be down to hit the club tonight, but wake up early to catch a museum opening before going to cliff-dive. Collabos are not just one type, but they embody two or more of the travel styles listed above. Collabos probably know themselves well and can gauge what they need at what time. When they're feeling drained, they might decide to get the massage, sip the pina colada, and read the Nicholas Sparks book. Collabos might want to go to a party right after coming back from the X-sports park, they are not limited. These individuals might be the most self actualized as they know that they need to tap into more than one aspect of themselves to get the most out of their travel experience. 

Note: Most of you are going to want to say that you're collabos, but not all of you are...so go ahead and be real with yourself...and me.

Are you really Collabo Chloe? If so, what are you a collabo of? If not, what's your travel style? Let me know if the comments below!

Happy Wandering....

New York: The City of NEVER GOING BACK pt. 3

When we last left off, I had just sprinted through a safari to try to make it to my flight on time. I ran up on the train panting out of breath and sweating like a hog. I looked at the lady next to me-composed, poised...she clearly has her shit together. So I ask her, "Hey, this train goes to Newark Airport right?" She stared into the depths of my soul and replied, "I'm sorry, I don't think so."

If you have no idea what I'm talking about, go ahead and check out part 1 and part 2 to get caught up on all of my shenanigans.

I looked at this woman with tears in my eyes, knowing I had limited time to catch my flight. I started freaking out internally. "Where is this train going?" "How am I going to make it home?" "What the hell is this life?"

As I was drowning in my invisible tears, the woman looked at me with the warmest smile and said, "Actually this does go to Newark Airport, I usually get off on the first stop so I wasn't sure." I smiled and thanked her for checking. I was so grateful man, this woman just took me to hell and brought me back. I'm not gonna lie, I was tainted with a bit of anger. "BITCHHHH WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST TELL ME YOU DIDN'T KNOW! YOU PUT ME THROUGH A WHOLE DAMN EMOTIONAL ROLLERCOATER (shoutout Vivian Green)"

I thanked God up above for his guidance, and sat on that damn train praying that I would make it to my flight on time. I knew that once this train stopped, I needed to not sprint, but literally hit a Usain Bolt to my gate. The train stopped, and I hit that bolt y'all, I was out. Me and little blue (my suitcase, in case you don't remember) were weaving through all sorts of people. Making it through an airport in a rush should be an Olympic sport-I'd win gold every time. Try me. 

I made it all the way to security, took my jacket, shoes, and laptop out with the quickness! I was in first place in my Olympic mind game. Made it through and low and behold, who's bag gets "randomly checked"? Haha, you guessed it! ME! I'm look up at the sky (ceiling) and audibly say "Yo, G... is this a joke?" People look at me and I don't care. 

I wait for a TSA agent to come and check my bag out. I promise I'm not smuggling drugs or dates this time. (Check this post out about my smuggling adventures) I'm waiting...and waiting...and waiting. The TSA agent finally arrives, after about 10 minutes (but remember that time is of the essence here, I have a plane to catch!). There are about 2 bags in front of me, and I look at this man with desperation in my eyes and say "Sir, I am about to miss my flight, can you please check my bag first? It's the little blue one." He turns around, looks at my bag and dryly says, "No. Sorry." 

"NIGGGGG....wooosahhh" I sat on the bench, waiting for him to reach my bag fuming. I'm surprised people couldn't see steam coming from the top of my head. I'm brown, but I'm sure that my skin turned red in that moment. I sat patiently, waiting for this man to rummage through my bag. I wanted to reach in and throw tampons at him to make him uncomfortable, but I didn't. I sat there, seemingly calm, and waited for him to pull out my tube of toothpaste. 

He threw the toothpaste away and left me with a rummaged little blue to put back together. I didn't have time to worry about that man. I put little blue back together and booked it to my gate. I was yet again in the Airport Olympics. Dodging, weaving, and possibly pushing people out of the way. Passengers were boarding, and I had little to no time to make it. I'm talking to God like "G..please, PLEASE, I need to get out of New York...you know I'll die here....PLEASE".

I finally made it to my gate, sweating, out of breath, tears on the verge of breaking the barrier, only to find that MY FLIGHT HAS BEEN DELAYED. So I ran, pushed, stomped and shoved for no reason. "I mean...this wasn't what I had in mind, but thanks G." Life is funny.

When I boarded that flight, I made a promise to myself...I WILL NEVER GO BACK TO THAT RAT INFESTED, BAD-LUCK CONJURING, DISRESPECTFUL-ASS CITY! I made it back to North Carolina in one piece (barely), and cried in rejoice for making it back to this simpleton-ass place. Thanks G!

Long story short, y'all can have New York and all of its mess. I don't want it. I don't want anything to do with it. I will chase my dreams from the comfort of my simpleton home. Thanks!

What city are you never going back to? Tell me about your story in the comments below!

Happy Wandering............except to NY.......

New York: The City of NEVER GOING BACK pt. 2

Well I've had enough of you ask me to finish the story that I brought my sorry behind back to let you all know what happened after life brutally laughed in my face. If you last recall, I'm standing in the middle of the United Nations, after 3 days of hell, to find out that there was a BIG OL lunch break scheduled from 1pm-3pm. It was currently 1:03pm and 3pm also happened to be the time I needed to head out to catch my flight. So a full flight, Airbnb, stress and panic for....no reason. YUP!

If you have no idea what I'm talking out, and haven't checked out the first part to this three-part series, click here to get caught up!

So, all I can do is laugh. I look at my friend and bust out laughing. She's visibly irritated, but how can you not laugh at the irony? There's no way I can make this life of mine up. I mean, it's real, it's happening. So being my optimistic self I repeat my mantra to myself, "everything happens for a reason". Now, whenever I say this mantra, I try to come up with reasons that the Universe, God, and any and all other energies came to the conclusion that this needed to happen. 

Me to myself: Well...maybe if you would've attended a conference you would've died
Myself to me: No....these other people didn't die sooooo.....
Me to myself: Right, right, well...maybe there was no one here of value to you
Myself to me: Really? Do you know where you are right now? It's the UN! What're you even saying?
Me to Myself: Right, right, well...it wasn't meant for you. Can we live with that?
Myself to me: *eye roll* fine. We'll live.

So I decided I would live with it, it wasn't meant for me, and that was ok...I GUESS. As my friend and I walked out of the building, I took one last look at what was once my dream...it wasn't that great anyways. Y'all know I'm lying, it was everything and so much more, but I digress.

We get on the bus back towards our luggage drop-off location to pick up our bags. My friend is nervous about riding the metro without getting lost, but I reassure her that she'll be fine. I show her how to utilize Google Maps and send her on her way. Her confidence in me made me believe I was some kind of pro, and off to the airport I went!

Let me back up a little here and give you all some context. When I first arrived in New York, I flew into Newark. To get from Newark to NYC, you can buy a cheap train ticket to NYC, and if you're really trying to save money, you can buy a round-trip train ticket. So y'all k now what I did right? I bought that damn round-trip ticket! Problem is, as I'm standing at this luggage-drop-off location, I'm thinking to myself: How the hell do I get back to that train? 

I did what any sane person would do, I asked the store owner (to no avail), random people on the street (to no avail), and finally I asked Google. Somehow I ended up at Grand Central. It didn't look familiar, but I followed some signs that had trains on them. When I finally showed an attendant my round-trip ticket, I was informed that none of the trains at Grand Central took you to Newark. SHOCK.

I freaked out a bit, calmed down, and found a bus that departed every 15 minutes to Newark for $20. I'm blown, but it's cool, I was still on track to catch my flight. 

PRO TIP: When travelling, make sure to always include buffer time in your departure!

I waited 15 minutes...no bus....20 minutes....no bus....30 minutes....you guessed it! NO BUS! I didn't know what to do, but during the time I was waiting for the bus, I finally discovered that my train to Newark leaves from Penn Station! I run to catch a metro to Penn Station (only to find out I don't have enough money on my MetroCard). I'm now forced to put money on a MetroCard I'm fairly certain I'll never use again because F*** NEW YORK! 

I make it to Penn Station, and it is a literal zoo. No, no, a zoo is too contained. This shit was a damn Safari, you know, where the animals run wild, and you can literally get eaten by a lion? Yeah. This was a SAFARI. So I'm looking around in amazement, admiring all the animals, hoping none of them bite me. I quickly snap out of it and hit a dash to the train station. It wasn't actually a dash, but more of a push-get pushed back-push more forcefully through-type of situation. The reason for the crazy amount of people: y'all remember that crazy blizzard that cancelled the conference? Well guess what? It also cancelled all the trains. So all the people who missed their trains yesterday were now at Penn Station trying to find a way home. Just my luck.

My rolling suitcase was doing pretty well, I couldn't complain. She stuck by me through it all. I can't say that was the case for everyone at Penn that day. When I finally reach the train booth, I show the man my round-trip ticket and he tells me that I'm in the right place HALLELUJAH! This is the first sign of good news since I'd arrived in that God-forsaken city. He told me that my train was leaving in 2 minutes, and the next train to Newark Airport wouldn't be back until 9pm. Mind you my flight leaves at 8pm, I HAVE to make this train. Remember...there is a Safari, and now I have to run through the giraffes, monkeys, lions, tigers, and bears (shoutout Jazmine Sullivan) to catch my train.

When I tell y'all that I literally picked up little blue (my rolling suitcase) and stormed through the damn Safari. Have any of you ever seen the move 300 where the main character yells "THIS IS SPARTA!!!" 

Me...running to catch my train

Yup! That's pretty much me, running through the Safari, carrying little blue over my head, waves of people pushing against me. I run up to the train literally sweating from my adventure. It feel like I've just ran a marathon, given birth, taken over the world, your pick. Point is, I've made it on the train! I'm gonna make it to my flight! Right? I sit down, sweating, panting, and ask the lady next to me, "Hey, this train goes to Newark Airport right?". She stares into my defeated eyes, looks at my furrowed brow, my sweat stains and says, "I'm sorry, I don't think so." I wanted to cry. 

Do I ever make it home? Do I kill this lady? Do I give up my life and become homeless? Find out next time on....DragonBa.....no, that's not it. Find out next time on...THE WANDERLUSTWAD CHRONICLES!

Let me know if you want to hear the rest in the comments below!

Happy Wandering...

New York: The City of NEVER GOING BACK

Hey Y'all!

G'day wanderers! I've missed you lovelies, but I needed to come back to share a story with you all. We all know about New York, "The City of Dreams" where "The Big Apple" resides. Youngsters move there from far and wide to pursue dreams, job opportunities, and live their best lives. Me? I went there starry-eyed and in pursuit of my dreams for a United Nations conference. But you didn't click this to learn about some boring conference, you clicked this to learn how my dreams were crushed, squashed, and pulverized right before they were obliterated. Dramatic much? Possibly, but bear with me. 

Before New York...

I found out about this conference promptly 3 days before the actual date. This meant I had 3 days to find a flight, a place to stay, and mentally prepare to represent an organization I knew little about. My checklist soon read: Flight: ✓ , Airbnb: ✓ , Mentally Prepared: TBD. 

All that was left to do was pack, but I decided I needed a break. Fast forward a couple hours to being passed out on my couch from exhaustion. I woke up frantic as I only had two hours to pack and get ready for my red-eye flight to New York. Imagine my shock when I found out that on this day (at approximately 2am) the time changed! It was daylights savings time ladies and gentlemen, and my frantic state turned into a full on panic. I had one hour to pack clothes, get ready and get to the airport on time. BISHHHH DID YOU MAKE IT??

Barely y'all, I barely made it, but by the grace of God himself, I found myself on this flight. After arriving in NY at 7am, I see a message from my Airbnb host (in Brooklyn) saying that I need to pick up the key to the apartment at 3pm in Manhattan. So I have to lug my bags around Manhattan for 8 hours. It's fine, no big deal. I made it to NY without missing my flight, and this is a great opportunity to network, I'm just going to make the best of it. So I did!

In New York...

3pm rolls around, no sign of host, 3:15...3:30....3:45...... This man doesn't show up until 4pm. I'm pissed and starving at this point, but figure I will find some real food once I get settled in. I arrive at the Airbnb, and see a couple that looks familiar. We realize that we are headed to the same Airbnb, but staying in different rooms. I walk into my room to see nothing but filth and used bed sheets y'all. FILTH AND USED BED SHEETS. I go see what the couple's room looks like, but before I can reach them I hear the girlfriend raging (at this point I know I'm not alone). 

We decide to cancel our booking, call Airbnb to make a formal complaint, and book another Airbnb together to save on costs. We finally arrive at our new Airbnb around 7pm and I am famished. Instead of heading out into the cold with my sorry excuse of a jacket, I decided to order something from GrubHub and rest for the night to start my conference the next day on a positive note. HAHA, I'm so naive. Positivity? What's that?

I order from GrubHub at 8pm with an anticipated hour wait. 9pm rolls around, no sign of food, 9:30...10pm....10:30. After many calls and many empty promises of food, I fell asleep. Do y'all believe that around 11pm the delivery driver calls me to tell me he's outside. It took every ounce of my being not to curse him smooth TF out. I told him to go on with his food, I was in bed for the night (in retrospect, I see that my anger and petty left me hungry still...I'm working on myself, ok?). 

Day 1/3 of the Conference

So I woke up the next morning going on almost 24 hours without food, starving AF and cold. So, flashback to me taking all of my winter clothes back to my parents house and picking up my spring clothes because North Carolina (where I live) had some promising weather. I left a light jacket here and there, but nothing heavy duty. Fast forward to me in NY with a light jacket in 20 degree weather. I was freezing. When I woke up in the morning, I decided the first order of business was to invest in a jacket (that I would promptly return upon leaving NY because financial responsibility DUUHHH). Although I had a friend to pick up from the bus station (as she was joining me for the conference), I assumed I would get a jacket to refrain from frostbite, get some food and head to the conference to begin my sessions before picking her up. 

I got a jacket! I got some food! All was going well for the day until I realized I had some papers to print out to gain access to the UN Headquarters. Do y'all know how expensive it is to print something out in NY man? I went to a FedEx and to use the computer was $2/minute plus a printing fee. I was shook. Who pays these prices? THOSE SCAMMERS! By the time I went on this adventure, I had exactly enough time to get on the metro and reach not the conference, but my friend at the bus stop. The day was over. I spent my day riding metros, getting lost, printing expensive papers, and trying to stay positive (HAHA! POSITIVITY? WHAT'S THAT?)

Day 2/3 of the Conference

I woke up the next day, friend in hand, ready to take on the new day...this time with a partner in crime! I had forgotten my woes from the past two days, had a couple great laughs, and woke up with a smile on my face. I pull back the curtain to find A F***ING BLIZZARD. The conference was cancelled for the day. It's ok, we'll wake up the next day and try it all over again. HAHA, there I go with that positivity shit.

Day 3/3 of the Conference

On this day, we needed to check out of our Airbnb, meaning that we had to take all of our luggage with us. Here's the thing, the United Nations does not allow luggage into the premise for security reasons, so now we need to find a place to keep our luggage. Furthermore, my friend accidentally took a pair of car keys that she needed to overnight back to Virginia. So, we began our adventure lugging our suitcases through New York to a luggage dropoff zone in Manhattan, dropped off the keys, hit a couple of road blocks (i.e. missed bus, wrong metro time, soaked socks from the snow on the ground, etc.), but we finally made it to the United Nations. 

We arrive at the main building, show our papers (that cost an arm and a leg to print), and get directed to another building a couple blocks away. We reach that building, show our papers, and get directed to another building in the same direction we just came from. So we're playing hide and go seek with the damn conference at this point. After about an hour, we get find the correct building, get our badges made and FINALLY enter the United Nations Headquarters.

There I am, at the United Nations, with a jacket I'll soon be returning, a smile thats an inch away from a cry, and ready to get all my dreams crushed.

After taking some pictures, looking around, and taking in the pure beauty that is that building, we picked up a program to see what workshops we could partake in. Since it was already 1pm, we knew we only had a couple hours to spare before needing to retrieve our luggage before we needed to be on the road for our bus and flight respectively. A good look at the program showed that right there, between 1pm and 3pm was a scheduled LUNCH period. 

I could honestly do nothing but laugh. It was purely comical. I came all this way, wasted all this time, and all this money to go to the United Nations for a conference that I never even attended. BAHAHAHA, life is hilarious!

I wish I could say that was the end of my New York adventure, but lo and behold life always has plans of its own for you. If you're interested in what happens next, let me know in the comments below and I'll make a follow-up post!

WHAT CITY ARE YOU NEVER GOING BACK TO? Also let me know in the comments below!!!

And as always....

Happy Wandering....

Group Travel: Are You Sure You're About that Life?

What could be better than sipping piña coladas in Puerto Rico, skiing in the Alps, or scuba-diving in Thailand? Going with your friends! Imagine living your dreams and having your crew there to experience it with you. Those are real #friendgoals #crewgoals #travelgoals. Group travel sounds like a blast! Especially with everyone posting pictures with their friends, the age of social media has not only popularized travel, but popularized group travel. When we consider going on extended trips with our friends we seem to focus on all the potential fun. Don't get me wrong, I'm a truly positive person, and so I ascribe to this tendency. Before embarking on my first #grouptravel, I daydreamed of laughing on beaches, taking pictures underwater and enjoying the company of those closest to me.

While this left me counting down the days, I wish I would have taken some time to consider some of the implications of this trip.  I wasn't too worried, I mean friends always make everything better...right? What could possibly go wrong? Haha...Where do I begin?

 Let's start by mentioning that the people you choose to travel with can either make or break your trip, so make sure you're confident in your choices. Whitney the whiner, yeahhhhh....you might want to leave her ass at home. Negative Natalie might also want to sit this one out along with inconsiderate Isabel. The point is to create the vibe that you want. If you want laughs and flexibility don't bring the anal Amy of your crew. If you want structure and planning then tell whimsical Wade he can come through next time. Create the space that you wish to live in.

Moving forward, you're going to have to prepare to ask yourself some questions. These are all questions I wish that I would have considered before agreeing to go on my group travel experience. Hopefully they get you thinking about the implications of galavanting with your gals and guys. 

How many people are in your group?

When you're thinking of how many people you want to be with you at your destination, how many do you picture? Two, four, seven, or even seventeen? The choice is yours, but if I were you, I would stick with the magic number. What is this magic number? It's 4! I believe to get the most of your trip you should invite three people, and when you include yourself, you have four, the magic number. 

Why Four?

1. Taxis and Ubers
   There are many countries that charge you extra, even in vans, for more than four passengers which is an inconvenience and annoying as hell. I'm all about saving that paper. Get hip or get lost. Also, four people fit together perfectly in a taxi in just about any country. Four is the perfect number. 
    
2. Restaurants
   When you're hungry and roll into a restaurant with a crew of hungry hippos, the last thing you want to be doing is waiting. People get agitated, HANGRY (a deadly combination of hungry and angry which I've been diagnosed with numerous times), and are not usually in a good mood when they are required to wait around for a table. And guess what you'll be doing if your group is over four people? Waiting. Sure, not always, but the 'hole in the wall' magical realms are usually small and can only accommodate but so many. For the best chance of immediate seating, zero hangry fits, and 'hole in the wall' acceptance, go ahead and choose that magic number: Four. 
    
3. Drama
   Four people gives little room for drama, although depending on your friend group, it is always possible. The more people involved in the trip, the more cliques tend to pop up. She doesn't like her, and he doesn't like them and their energy doesn't flow, and vibes are off. Do yourself a favor and stick to the magic number. With a smaller group, it is easier to reconcile arguments and come to conclusions. Also, with a group of four, you can tailor the type of energy and vibe you want for your trip.
    
4. Hostel/Hotel Rooms
   Most hostels and hotels have rooms that accommodate either two or four people. If it accommodates four, you can all share the room and split the costs. If the hostel/hotel accommodates two, you can split up and still end up splitting the costs. This buddy system has never let me down and ensures everyone is safe at the end of the night. Issues begin to arise if you have an odd number of people or too many people. You may not be able to find a place to stay if it wasn't pre-planned, and who wants to be constrained by a schedule? Keep your life simple and find you a nice group of four to split costs with and stay safe with!

Are you ready to be frustrated?

No matter how many people you bring or leave at home, get ready to be frustrated. I don't say this to dissuade you from traveling with others, I say this to be frank. There will be a discussion about everything, which sounds great, because "communication is key"...NOT. Before every meal there will be a "so, where should we eat" conversation. Three meals a day = three times this question will be asked. Multiply that by the number of days you're vacationing and that equals too many damn times.

"Where should we go?" is another common one. If not everyone in the group has the same travel style, then some could leave without getting what they wanted out of the trip. There are party-goers and culturalists and adventure-junkies and historians and those who want to eat crickets and others who want to stay in the hotel/hostel by the pool. Make sure that the group you're traveling with has a good mix of people who are interested in multiple things so that everyone can at least do some of the things they anticipated doing. 

Are you ready to compromise?

What it comes down to is that you are not going to be able to do everything you wanted to do on your trip. You can plan from today until tomorrow through next week and you will still not be prepared for all the curveballs that group travel throws you. If you travel with someone with the same travel style as you that might make things a little easier, but it is also great to get out of your comfort zone and try new things. 

You may be outnumbered by your group in terms of food choices, parties to attend, or landmarks to see. Learn patience, something that I mention many times throughout this blog. You will have to compromise, there is no getting around it. Compromise is hard for a lot of us (myself included), but remember that you're the one who wanted your friends around. Whatever happened to #friendgoals...not feeling it so much anymore?

WANDERLUST TIPS ON GROUP TRAVEL

• PATIENCE, it's a reoccurring theme.
• Go with the flow, don't let things get to you.
• Leave the group if you're not feeling it, no one is forcing you to hang with these people.
• If there is something you really want to do, but you're outnumbered, do it by yourself. 
• Learn to breathe.
• Don't take anything they say drunk seriously. Let that shit roll off your shoulders.
• Remember that you love these people (most of the time).
• Drink lots of tea, it sort of fixes everything.

So, while you want to post all of the #friendgoals #grouptravel #meandmyfriendstravelandyoudont pictures available, you might want to consider the consequences of a group trip. Your friends are amazing people, and you love them dearly, so of course you want to see the world with them. Just know that it's not all shits and giggles. For all you "I'm not with the shits" individuals...get ready for the shits, because it's a lot of shit. Enjoy!

Have you ever traveled in a group? What was your experience like? Where did you go? Let me know in the comments below!

 

HAPPY WANDERING...

The BadAss Who Dodged Airport Security

What's the worst part of going to the airport? AIRPORT SECURITY. You have to wait, and wait....and then wait some more. You finally get to the security belt and realize you have to strip naked in front of strangers. No Coats! No Shoes! No Belts! No Wallets! No Spare Change! For goodness sakes, if you want to see me naked just ask! We don't need to go through these formalities. 

Well one badass found a way to dodge airport security. Who was this wonderful woman? ME! Twas I. I am the badass. So, I'm sure you have many questions as to how I made this possible, hoping that one day, you too, could become a badass like me. Well, let me tell you, it's not easy. Also kids, don't try this at home, it's dangerous. But you know, badasses like me don't fear danger.

HOW IT HAPPENED:

I was in Sudan waiting at Gate 2 to board the plane. As they started calling up groups to board, I realized that I didn't have my iPod. I had a 4 hour flight to Turkey and an 8 hour layover before taking a 10 hour flight back to Washington, D.C. How was I going to survive without any music? I couldn't! There was no way. It was impossible. My iPod was at my aunts house, and she lived 10 minutes away from the airport. "I CAN MAKE THIS HAPPEN", I thought to myself. I called my cousin who initially dropped me off and begged him to find my iPod and bring it to the airport.

The way the main airport in Sudan works is that unless you're actually flying out, you aren't allowed to go inside. Consequently, there is a mob of people standing outside the airport wishing their loved ones farewell. I was concerned about time, but when my cousin texted me minutes later saying he found the iPod and that he was on the way to the airport, I knew I had a chance to save myself from complete and utter boredom. All I had to do was find a way to run from Gate 2 to the entrance of the airport and back without getting stopped in about 2 minutes. 

The announcements called for group 4 to board the plane. Group 4 was the last to board this flight, and I was on group 4. Simultaneously, my cousin was outside waiting for me. The time was now or never. I had a decision to make, and I decided to choose the iPod. I was literally willing to risk missing this flight back to the United States for my iPod. Could you all last 22 hours with no form of entertainment? I didn't think so. This decision was justified. 

I picked up my bag and booked it! I ran through security, customs, and ticketing, stopping for no one. The security guard began to chase me at one point, but gave up once I reached customs, probably assuming someone down the line would catch me (welcome to Sudan). As I reached the entrance door, I saw my cousin reaching for me with an iPod in hand. I grabbed it, pivoted, and turned around to race back to Gate 2. On the way there, I held my hands up in victory, waving my prized possession at the customs official, at the security guard, and at the empty lobby at Gate 2. 

On that day, I was the last person to board the plane, but the first person to run through security, customs, and ticketing without officially getting stopped. As I sat in my chair, sweaty, tired, and victorious, I fell into a deep slumber. The running wore me out! I'm in no shape to be running like that! 

I woke up in Turkey 4 hours later with iPod in hand and headphones missing. Life is funny that way. The moral of the story is, be a badass, you actually might get away with it. Just remember that life is also a circle, so it always catches up with you!

What badass things have you done? Did you get away with it? Did life catch up with you? Let me know in the comments below! And as always..

Happy Wandering...

I Refuse to Fly

I refuse to fly. Wait, you're WanderlustWad! What do you mean? Oh, I'm sorry, was I not clear? What I meant to say was I'm not flying anymore. I've had a horrible experience, and I've made a final decision. What horrible experience?

So glad you asked!

I was recently in Sudan for my cousin's wedding, and what a fancy shmancy soiree it was. She looked lovely, it was lovely, I wore a ball gown, I posed next to a vintage Rolls Royce, everything I expected and so much more. Ok, I wasn't expecting the Rolls Royce, but what a plus!

In my ball gown posing next to the vintage Rolls Royce. Shoutout cuzzo for providing the car, the pose, and the awkward smile!

I'm currently in graduate school and took a week off to attend this wedding. This was a big decision because it's my first year of grad school, I honestly have no idea what's going on in my program, I've just moved to a whole new state where I know no one, and I'm dealing with imposter syndrome. Needless to say, I decided I was going to swing it! My cousin wanted me to be there, I wanted to be there, and this meant a lot to my family. So I took the risk, hoping that a sufficient plan would rid me of any mishaps. As you can tell by the title of this blog post...I was mistaken.

I meticulously planned my flights. I picked a flight leaving on a Friday and returning the following Sunday around 2 p.m. This was going to give me just enough time to come home, decompress, possibly unpack (ha, yeah right...but I was optimistic), and prepare to get back in the swing of things at grad school. I was going to figure out what I missed, get notes for those classes, and hit the ground running. I had this all planned out. I was ready. I was prepared. I was confident in my planning. What a sham.

The week started out great! I saw my haboba (grandma in Arabic), I visited relatives, I attended the wedding, danced my little tail off, and had a ball. It was when I was attempting to head back to the United States that things slowly started to unravel.

Haboba showing me all the love

I just finished saying bye to my grandma, and my parents and younger brother Lofy were taking me back home to finish packing my bags before dropping me at the airport. I insisted we stop at Tweety (a fresh juice bar) so I could get a "nus darba". For all those unaware, "nus darba" is the most delicious fruit salad you'll ever taste. Made with all fresh fruit and ingredients (as most things in Sudan are), this is a must if/when you visit Sudan. As my dad made his way to Tweety, my mom began fussing about missing my flight. I literally laughed. I had ran through security at the airport in Sudan before, I was completely unconcerned about "missing a flight", and we had ample time. If you know my mom, she's a bit dramatic, and so to Tweety we went. 

It took me possibly 15 minutes to shove all my clothes in my suitcase and head out the door to begin my journey to the airport. I got to the airport an hour and a half before takeoff. An hour and a half. Just to be clear, that's almost two hours before takeoff. As I make my way to the Ethiopian Airlines stand and begin to wait in line to check my luggage, the middle-aged woman in front of me begins to argue with the attendant. Everyone in Sudan argues, so I paid them no mind until I heard the attendant tell this woman that "the scale is closed". 

The woman had tears in her eyes, was explaining to the attendant that she had four kids, and this was her second day missing this flight. My eyes almost bulged out of my face. I rudely interrupted their conversation to ask what exactly a "closed scale" means. The man behind this counter looked me dead in my eyes and told me that it means I can't get on the plane. Now if you know me, and if you know Sudan, you know that I used every tactic I knew to finesse this process. I asked to speak to a supervisor, then a manager, I asked him how much money it would take to get on the flight. I HAD A PLAN. I needed to be on this plane. Everyone in Sudan takes bribes, but this man was not having it. I was at the airport an hour and a half early, and this man was truly playing with me. How is the scale closed? I didn't understand. Honestly, I still don't.

I eventually told him that since the scale was closed I would leave my luggage. I just needed my person to be on the next plane out of Sudan, so that I could make it back to America on time. I couldn't miss any more school, I was already falling behind, and I had a plan. He was so sick of me. He said no. I spoke to his supervisors and managers who also said no. I was fed up. Fuck Ethiopian Airlines!

When I finally came to accept that I wasn't leaving Sudan, and that my plan was ruined, I had to figure out my next steps. The lovely attendant (heavy eye roll) told me to go around the back of building where I would see the Ethiopian Airlines offices. They would be able to help me there. When I finally found these offices, thanks to the help of no signs or knowledgeable airport personnel, I was told that the staff was out. Where were they? They were busy checking people into the airplane that I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE ON. You want to talk about livid, I was on the border of bursting.

After waiting for my flight to leave me (oh, the irony, I had a MF plan), the Ethiopian Airlines personnel decided to come back to their offices only to tell me that they couldn't help me. Their office didn't handle missed flights and I needed to go to their headquarters the next morning to rebook. IF YOU COULDN'T HELP ME THEN WHY DID YOU HAVE ME WAITING AROUND FOR YOU! These pricks y'all. THESE PRICKS!

So of course I had to hear my mother's mouth the whole time about how I should have listened to her, how we could have gotten there earlier, and her annoying "I told you so" eyes. Ugh. It killed me.

You want to know what's worse than missing a flight you meticulously planned to no fault of your own? When your mom is right and gives you "I told you so" eyes. UUUUGGGHHHHH. THOSE EYES. THE WORST.

The next day, I woke up at the crack of dawn, and headed to the Ethiopian Airlines headquarters. Much to my surprise, I was not the only one who encountered this. There was at least 11 other individuals (including the woman with her four kids from the previous day) who had "missed" their flight. What we came to find out is that the airline is overbooking their flights, and when enough people have checked in to fill the plane, they "close the scales". PRICKS!

Even at this headquarters, they refused to help a majority of us rebook without purchasing a whole new ticket because our original tickets were bought from travel agents or companies. My mind was so blown. The lovely Ethiopian Airlines attendant (eye roll) behind this desk at this headquarters was telling me that she couldn't help me with my ETHIOPIAN AIRLINES ticket? Does this make sense to anyone? Anyone at all? 

After ANOTHER trip, this time to the travel agency the ticket was booked from, I finally had a ticket sending my black ass back to the United States. All to go to a Master's program that scares the crap out of me, to a state where I know no one, and to a school that had me feeling like an imposter. I was drained. 

So I made a decision. I'm not flying anymore! At least not Ethiopian Airlines, those..you guessed it..PRICKS! 

But while you're out wandering for the both of us...

Happy Wandering...

Have you ever experienced such inconsistency? Ever dealt with imposter syndrome? Ever planned and your plans fell through? What happened? Let me know in the comments below!

"All Black People are Scared of the Police" WRONG.

I saw him and instinctively froze, my heart beating fast. His demeanor was very casual, he had a smile spreading across his face, and he even resembled me in color: unapologetically black. These characteristics did not stop me in my tracks, but the words boldly printed across his chest did: POLICE. He was an officer, a protector of the law, and my initial reaction was...fear.

As I looked around the car, I realized I was the only one who had had this frightening moment. The other passengers (all people of color) looked unaffected by the presence of the officer, and the driver of the vehicle even went passed the policeman on the road; she didn't look back to see if he would pull her over. An unprecedented act for any person of color in the United States. When I asked everyone why they were so nonchalant, the simplicity astonished me. Someone uneasily said, " This isn't America you know, you don't have to be scared of them here." It dawned on me that I was in Trinidad. Police aren't feared like in the States. The statement was followed up by a question. "Why would we be scared when we weren't doing anything wrong?"

Great question. Why was I scared? Could it be the ongoing genocide of African Americans in the United States of America? Possibly.

Just as prey live in fear of their predator, similar to the Jewish living in terror because of Nazi officials, African Americans generally live horrified at the sight of police. The difference is that while the identifying marker for Jews was a badge in Nazi Germany, they were able to take it off at the end of the day. It was a badge they could look in their closet and see. One they could store away, not having to deal with it until leaving their home. For an African Americans to find their marker they don't need to look in a closet, they just have to look in the mirror. Their skin is not stored anywhere except on their body. In the "land of the free" the wrong skin color is enough reason to compel an authority figure to insensibly fire bullets in your direction. 

Lightbulb moment: I've been conditioned to fear those appointed to protect me. 

As a black person, you don't wake up in the morning and choose to put your skin on. You don't need to alter your clothes for people to know that you're black. You don't even need to speak for people to know that you're black. You don't need to do anything, because you were born black. You can't remove your skin color, nor should you want to.

You are not the problem. Your skin is not the problem. You should not have to fear for your life. You should not have to explain injustice to your child. The color you were endowed is not threatening. But in America you are, it is, you do, you are, it is.

The system was not built for your success, it was built for your failure. SUCCEED ANYWAYS. The unjust killings, the systemic demise of African Americans, and the justice system are the problems. The solutions are complex, but in the efforts to create sustainable change, one thing is evident: we need to be united. There is power in numbers. Revolutions start with one person, a couple of people, but real change is seen when the masses gather. 

It's unfortunate that it struck me as odd that many people of color around the world don't fear the police. I'm not saying they don't get tickets, fines or pulled over; I'm saying that their interactions with policemen are justifiable, regardless of color. That isn't the case in the States. For the first time in my life I feel that where I live is the third world country, and not the places I am traveling to.

The world is a scary place on its own without genocide, racism or police killings. There is no reason that present day America should feel like Nazi Germany. If you want to "Make America Great Again" (even though it's never really been that great), why not start with ending the senseless killings of the second largest demographic in the country. 

#BLACKLIVESMATTER

This is usually where I ask you to leave a comment. Don't bother this time. I said what it was.

Do I Have Zika?

As you all know, this Summer was filled with Caribbean flavor. From Barbados to Trinidad to Guyana, I consciously ignored the travel warnings about Zika floating throughout the tropical region. I never thought I would contract the disease and imagined dousing myself in mosquito repellent. I knew there was still a probability of extracting the disease, but considered the risk minimal.

Lesson #1: You are not immune.

So many of us think that we are invincible; that things can not touch us. So we are reckless. We allow ourselves to be reckless. To do reckless things. To give in to our inner desire for danger, and adventure. 

I loved Trinidad most, of the places I visited in the Caribbean. It felt like home. A place that seemed to fit in places you didn't know could heal you, love you, and feed you (and boy, could they feed you!). Trinidad was magical like that. I stayed at Pearl's Guesthouse. It's a beautiful Victorian home with hospitable hosts and kind, enlightening travelers. There I met a friend who showed me around Port of Spain, took me to eat Bake and Shark, and introduced me to how Trinidadians live. 

After some time, I left Pearl's Guesthouse and began my first Couchsurfing adventure (read here) with Phyllis. Phyllis showed me a whole new world. We explored a good part of Trinidad and she introduced me to the warmest of her friends. In the weeks I stayed with Phyllis, I heard of 2 individuals who had contracted Zika: my friend from Pearl's Guesthouse, and a friend of Phyllis'. This got me thinking heavily about my chances of getting Zika. 

Was I being careful? Was I using the right mosquito repellent? Had I even been wearing repellent? Sometimes, but not consistently enough.

Thankfully, neither of the individuals who contracted Zika were women of child bearing age. But I am. I had researched and found the best mosquito repellent spray before embarking on this adventure to the Caribbean, I had just been failing to apply it regularly. It seems that I planned to have this amazing repellent, but never put it on. Lazy girl issues. 

Lesson #2: When you adequately prepare, make sure you follow through with your plan, especially if it's life or death

So I started to regularly wear this repellent, dousing myself in it every morning after my shower. It lasted me all day, was never sticky or oily, and had no foul smell. Deet was the best! It saved my life. As it turns out, I DIDN'T get Zika, but that doesn't mean that I couldn't have. I put myself in a risky situation that could have permanently altered my life or my future child's. Which leads me to lesson number three.

Lesson #3: The universe always has your back.

Sometimes you make dumb decisions, take a big risk and regret it after the fact. Sometimes you have unprotected sex and you end up pregnant, other times you don't. Sometimes you make an illegal U-turn and no cop catches you, other times they do. Sometimes you fly to a Zika infested region, don't use mosquito repellent and still don't contract Zika, but other times you do.

No matter where you end up, there is a reason you are there. I was blessed, but others weren't as fortunate as I. There is always a time to take into consideration the risks and benefits before making careless decisions. It wasn't till recently that I've noticed the long-term effects Zika can have on people, and it's particularly difficult when the individuals suffering are people you have grown close to. So spray that Deet! 

What risky behavior have you participated in? Did it work out? Did the risk outweigh the benefits? Let me know in the comments below!

Happy Wandering...