“So, when’s your next adventure?” My mom asked as I unpacked my luggage from my week-long trip to Puerto Rico. This was my third time to the surfer-village of Rincon and second time visiting my best friend and neighbor, Jens, who has lived there every winter for the past few years.
I laughed in response to my mom’s question because she knows me and understands my crazy wanderlust. I had already started to plan my next get-away before I even exited the plane. I was thinking I’d go to Costa Rica in March or April with Stefanie (one of my best friends/travel partners who I went to PR with). We want to teach English there this fall and our friend, Sandra, who is one step ahead of us, would show us around.
But could I even wait that long?? The second day I was home I was already depressed from the cold weather, fed up with my hooptie car and, to make things worse, I started getting sick. I also felt like I broke up with my significant other… Stefanie didn’t fly home with us!
I was back in twenty-degree weather turning from Tan Aykroyd into Pale Earnhardt while she was vagabonding around in Rincon with our new friends… Within one week she scored a cute, cheap place to live and an awesome job to fund her rent and coconut drinks until her summer workplace reopens here in New York. “How can I get back to Rincon?” I thought to myself as I cried into my pillow that night.
“Come back and share a twin bed with me,” Stefanie enticingly texted me from 1600 miles away. Now, I’ve been known to slack on the decision making, ask anyone. But this one was easy. All it took was a head-cold and a text message.
Fast forward two weeks. My countdown is at two days until I board the plane to my personal paradise. Let me preface this trip with: It’s not (really) a vacation for me. I’m going to work! Most importantly, I’m going to finish my online TEFL course with Stefanie and blog about my time there. Hopefully I’m inspired to finally do what my five-year-old self wants: write my heart out. I’m also going to do yoga,
learn to surf, make hemp necklace’s, eat amazing new food, help foster puppies, meet hundreds of new people (locals and tourists), trade my treadmill for hilly streets, budget, cook, go to bonfires, watch reggae bands on the beach…and who the hell knows what else?
And let’s face it, when you still live at home, you’re single and your best friend tells you to come live with her and two amazing new friends for $200/month, where it’s always eighty-something degrees, wouldn’t you go?
Peace-out, snowy boots and hand warmers. Hola, utopia.